‘Come on, Rilla, come with me,’ Luca whispered as he felt her muscles grip him hard and knew she was about to go over the edge. And he was right there with her.
‘I hate it that you can still do this to me,’ she sobbed as her orgasm rushed forward, unable to be held back after so much denial. She bucked against the door, her back arching.
He hated her power over him too. But then his own release joined hers and he couldn’t think any more. He held her tight as for one elusive moment the world stopped and pleasure erupted around him, rained down on him. Then he rode it, rocking her against the door, stoking her release and his until there was nothing left, until they were breathless and spent.
The house was silent except for the sound of their uneven breathing. He stirred, raining gentle kisses over her face, whispering endearments in Italian, still locked inside her. ‘Are you OK, cara?’ he whispered.
Rilla could barely speak, never mind wrap her head around the explosion of passion she’d been at the centre of. ‘I … don’t know.’
‘Shh,’ Luca soothed, adjusting them so he could swing her into his arms. ‘You’re tired—we both are.’ He carried her into his room and lowered her gently onto the bed, lying beside her, pulling her against him spoon fashion.
‘Go to sleep,’ he murmured into her hair, his own eyes unbearably heavy, post-coital fatigue melding with days of inadequate sleep.
Rilla knew she should be protesting the intimacy. Having sex against the front door was one thing. But spending the night in his bed, like lovers, like husband and wife, was another. But the intense orgasm had sapped what little reserves she had and she could feel the lure of sleep pulling her under even before her head hit the pillow.
She was out cold in seconds.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE sun, already high in the sky, finally penetrated Rilla’s closed lids. She opened them slowly, taking a moment or two to orientate herself, last night returning in full Technicolor detail. She was alone and she didn’t know whether to feel relieved or annoyed.
She looked down at her fully clothed form. Well, sort of fully clothed. Her red shirt was still undone and gaping open, revealing her bra. She blushed, thinking about how it had gotten that way, and wondered what Luca had thought when he’d woken this morning to see her goods on full display.
Had he tried to wake her? Her slumber had been so deep she doubted whether she’d even moved overnight. A nuclear explosion probably wouldn’t have woken her this morning. Three days and nights of little sleep, the stress of Bridie’s illness and a bone-melting orgasm had certainly taken their toll.
Rilla stretched and felt the ache of internal muscles that hadn’t been used in a long time. Her teeth worried her bottom lip as she thought about their next meeting. Would it be awkward? Would they know what to say to each other? What were his expectations? Hell—what were hers?
She didn’t know. She didn’t know what it meant or how it would affect them working together or their looming divorce. She did know that last night hadn’t been the wisest thing she’d ever done. In fact, muddying the waters that way had been incredibly stupid. And if she could undo it, she would.
Really.
Rilla turned her head to check the time. The red numbers told her it was eleven o’clock.
Eleven o’clock!
She vaulted into an upright position. She’d had no idea it was so late. Why had Luca let her sleep so long? Where was he? The house was as silent as a cemetery. Damn it! She should be at the hospital. He should have woken her. She needed a shower and a change of clothes and her car was still at the hospital. Argh!
An hour later, Rilla strode into the parents’ lounge to find Gabe and Beth eating lunch.
‘Afternoon, sleepyhead,’ Beth teased.
Rilla felt the tension ooze out of her. Beth was looking rested and was showing some sass—Bridie must have had a good night. ‘I take it everything’s still going well?’
‘By leaps and bounds,’ Beth confirmed. ‘Luca’s in with her so we could eat together.’
Her heart gave a loud thud at the mention of Luca’s name. So he was there? ‘Oh,’ Rilla said, trying for nonchalance. ‘Has he been here long?’
‘Couple of hours.’ Gabe shrugged.
‘Why don’t you go and keep him company? We’ll be another fifteen minutes or so,’ Beth suggested.
Rilla’s pulse reverberated through her entire body, her heart banging against her ribs as if it was trying to escape her chest as she approached Bridie’s room. She was more nervous seeing him now than she had been the other morning at work with an audience of colleagues.
She drew level with the doorway to the isolation room and stopped short. Luca was stroking Bridie’s head and murmuring to her in his native tongue, calling her his little bush bambina. He was looking at her with such compassion it sucked Rilla’s breath away.
Was he thinking about their baby as he stroked Bridie’s downy wisps? As she was? Wondering how different it could have been had she managed to carry their baby to full term. As she was? Fantasising about dribbly smiles, early-morning cuddles and soft baby skin? As she was?
Why had they let things go so cold between them?
Bridie’s nurse spotted her in the doorway and told her to come in. Luca raised his head and she held her breath, unsure of what she would see in his eyes.
‘Hello, Rilla.’
Rilla saw the same wariness she knew was reflected in her gaze. Did he regret their impulsiveness too? ‘You should have woken me, Luca,’ Rilla chided, as she walked to the other side of her niece’s cot.
He was looking devastatingly casual in a polo shirt and jeans, and she wondered if they were the ones he’d been wearing last night. The ones she’d helped him out of.
Luca watched her approach, trying to gauge her state of mind. He noticed she’d showered and changed her clothes. Her hair was still wet and pulled back into a sleek ponytail. A sudden memory of him brushing her newly washed hair for her on their honeymoon reared up at him and he looked down at Bridie, unprepared for the mix of emotions it evoked.
‘You were exhausted,’ he dismissed.
She hadn’t been too exhausted to cross a line that had been decisively drawn seven years ago.
Rilla also averted her gaze to her niece. Bridie was awake and looking around, her breathing tube and the brown tape holding it secure marring her cherubic features. Her tiny fingers grasped Luca’s forefinger and Rilla was pleased for the distraction.
‘Hello, sweetie,’ Rilla crooned at her niece, because it was easier to talk to her than to face Luca.
After a few minutes of babbling to Bridie, aware of their pregnant silence, Rilla said, ‘Beth was saying she had a good night.’
‘Yes. They’re talking about extubating her tomorrow.’
They made awkward small talk for the next ten minutes, talking to the nurse and to Bridie to avoid having to talk to each other.
‘We’re back,’ Beth announced, entering the room holding Gabe’s hand.
Rilla envied her sister’s relationship. Gabe and Beth hadn’t been together that long either, but Bridie’s crisis had only strengthened their union. They were leaning on each other. Unlike them. First sign of a problem in their marriage and they’d fallen apart.
‘Why don’t