he began to peruse the list.
‘I’d better stick to mineral water,’ she said, fidgeting with her purse. ‘I don’t want to trigger a headache.’
He lowered the list to look at her, a shadow of concern in his dark gaze. ‘Have you had more migraines than usual lately?’
She found it hard to keep her emotions in check with his coal-black eyes on hers. ‘Yes…’ she said, dropping her gaze from his. ‘It’s stress related mostly. I’ve got some pills to take now…they help a lot…’
Just then a man approached with a camera, a woman at his side with a notebook and pen.
‘Mr Trelini—’ the young woman spoke first ‘—we’ve heard a rumour today that you and Mrs Trelini are resuming your marriage.’
‘Yes, that is true,’ Patrizio said with an urbane smile. ‘We are indeed resuming our marriage and are both very happy to be together again.’
‘So does this mean you’ve forgiven your wife for her affair with Garth Merrick?’ she asked with a meaningful glance in Keira’s direction.
Keira felt her face fill with colour as if her shame had overflowed from deep inside to find a more public place to showcase itself.
‘But of course,’ Patrizio said. ‘We are all entitled to one mistake, no? Many men have strayed in the past and their wives have been expected to not only forgive but to turn a blind eye. What is sauce for the goose and all that, right?’
‘Er…right,’ the journalist said, madly scribbling.
The man with the camera came closer and asked them to pose. Keira stretched her mouth into a semblance of a smile, the tiny fine hairs on the back of her neck lifting one by one as Patrizio’s hand cupped her nape.
‘Thank you both,’ the journalist said. ‘Enjoy your evening.’
‘We will,’ Patrizio said with another charming smile.
Keira blew out a ragged little sigh once they had left. ‘I’m not very good at this…’
‘You did fine,’ he said. ‘Now, what are you going to eat?’
Keira had never felt less like eating in her life. She stared at the menu for endless minutes, chewing at her bottom lip, wondering if he had any idea of how much this was affecting her.
He reached across the table and lifted her chin with his hand, the pad of his thumb moving over her savaged bottom lip. ‘You will draw blood if you keep doing that, cara,’ he said.
Tears shone in her eyes as she held his dark fathomless gaze. ‘I c-can’t help it…’ She choked back a tiny sob.
She heard him draw in a sharp breath, his fingers moving to cup her cheek in a touch so gentle and tender that the tears she was desperately trying to hold back began to spill from her eyes.
‘Please do not cry, Keira,’ he said. ‘Does my presence upset you this much?’
She nodded as another little broken sob escaped. ‘Sorry…I’ll be fine in a minute…’
‘You need feeding,’ he said, signalling for the waiter.
Keira mopped at her eyes as she heard Patrizio order her favourite dish for her, the fragile hold she had on her emotions threatening to slip away again. He might not love her but he hadn’t forgotten what she liked and disliked. Somehow she found that comforting.
‘How are your studies going?’ he asked once the waiter had left. ‘You must be close to finishing.’
‘Yes…’ she said, conscious of the steadiness of his dark gaze. ‘I’ve finished my thesis and it’s been assessed. I’m working on my final portfolio. There’s an exhibition for Masters students held at one of the galleries. It’s a chance to get noticed by the art world.’
‘You have enjoyed the course?’ he asked.
‘Yes, very much,’ she answered. ‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.’
‘Are your parents a little more resigned to your career choice?’
She gave him a grim look. ‘I think you know enough about my parents to know they would have preferred me to be doing something a little less controversial.’
‘Controversial?’ His brow creased slightly. ‘What is controversial about being an artist?’
‘You obviously haven’t seen any of my recent work,’ she said with a wry grimace.
His dark eyes twinkled. ‘So you have been milking some very sacred cows have you, cara?’
‘That’s not quite the expression I would have chosen but I guess it will do,’ she conceded. ‘I painted a rather subversive political work. It caused a bit of furore.’
‘With your father or the public?’
‘Both,’ she said. ‘I was at a demonstration and took it with me. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it in the press.’
‘I must have been interstate or overseas at the time,’ he said, frowning slightly. ‘Were you arrested?’
‘Not this time,’ she said. ‘But my father threatened to disinherit me if it happened again.’
Patrizio examined her features for a lengthy moment. ‘Our separation has not helped your relationship with your parents, has it?’ he asked.
She shook her head and began toying with the meal the waiter had set before her moments earlier. ‘No…but then that’s my fault and I accept total responsibility for it.’
Patrizio wondered if she really had. She seemed intent on sticking to her story of not remembering that night, which annoyed him immensely. She had wilfully gone to Merrick’s flat with the intention of resuming her relationship with him. There was no point in pretending she didn’t know how she’d ended up in bed with him. She couldn’t have chosen a more lethal blow to their marriage than that.
‘You do not look like you are enjoying your meal,’ he remarked. ‘Did I choose the wrong thing for you?’
She shook her head and put her cutlery down. ‘No, I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought. My appetite is still not back to normal since I had that bug.’
‘Come,’ he said, pulling her to her feet. ‘We have achieved what we set out to achieve. The press has got their statement from us. We will go home.’
‘But what about your meal?’ Keira asked. ‘Aren’t you going to finish it?’
He handed her his handkerchief, his expression wry. ‘I seem to have lost my appetite as well,’ he said. ‘Besides, it has been a long day. I am ready for bed.’
Bed.
One word.
Three letters.
Keira shivered as his arm came around her waist as he led her from the restaurant.
If trying to get through a meal with him had been hard, what on earth was it going to be like spending the next six weeks lying in his bed beside him?
CHAPTER FIVE
‘I HAVE some emails to see to on the computer in my office,’ Patrizio informed Keira once they had returned to his house. ‘I will leave you to prepare for bed. I will try not to disturb you when I join you later.’
She swallowed. ‘Which side do you want me to sleep on?’
His eyes hardened slightly as they meshed with hers. ‘What is your preference these days?’ he asked. ‘Right or left, or do you still lie right in the middle?’ Sprawled like a whore, he added silently, his gut twisting all over again with the venomous vipers of jealousy.
‘I don’t have a preference.’
His