Even as he watched her eyes darkening, and saw the tip of her tongue dart out to moisten her lips, Alessandro knew it wasn’t enough. Even if Emily agreed, a sexual relationship with his beautiful new wife would only leave him more frustrated than ever. And he wanted more. He wanted much more. He wanted her love. He knew he had to do something…say something…or he might tip them both headlong into a situation from which neither of them would ever recover. He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender.
‘Forgive me, Emily. I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m very tired—’
Yes, he was tired, Alessandro acknowledged. He was tired of all the play-acting, tired of pretending he didn’t feel the most urgent need to consummate their marriage and ease the physical torment he was certain now that she felt every bit as much as he did. He longed to make Emily his wife, and in more than name only. He wanted them to be bound together, body and soul, for the rest of their lives.
But the weariness dragging at his mind had another cause, he accepted restlessly as he started to pace the room. What exhausted him the most was the secret he was forced to keep. The secret he bound so close because it was the one thing in the world that could take her away from him. And, in spite of the physical desire that raged through his body, he couldn’t—he wouldn’t—run the risk of losing her.
‘We’re both tired—and no wonder,’ Emily observed gently, trying to hold her husband still from his angry pacing when she knew she had little more to soothe him with than her voice.
‘I know,’ Alessandro said, shaking his head as he stopped dead to look at her, as if for the first time. It was as if she understood everything…and nothing, he realised, passing a single finger down the side of her face. But it wasn’t her fault…none of it was her fault.
Emily longed to grab hold of his hand then, and kiss it, and hold it against her cheek to warm him with her strength…her love…But the moment had passed, and now he was tense again. She could feel it in the air without looking at him.
‘My behaviour just now was unforgivable,’ Alessandro said, moving away from her. ‘I’m sorry if I frightened you. The last thing I want is to make this any harder for you than it already is.’ Reaching the door, he turned to face her again.
‘Is there anything…anything at all, Emily…that I could provide for you here in Ferara to make you happy?’
‘I am happy,’ she protested quickly.
‘Don’t give me a glib answer because that’s what you think I want to hear,’ he warned. Leaning back against the door, he said softly, ‘I mean it, Emily. Whatever you want—whatever it takes to make you happy—just name it.’
You, she thought, meeting his gaze steadily. That’s all I want…you. First, last and always.
‘You mentioned an idea for upgrading the palace apartments for staff—we could set up weekly meetings—’
‘Yes,’ she said quickly. Even a regular business meeting with him would be better than nothing at all. ‘I think that’s a wonderful idea.’
‘I’m pleased you think so.’
Emily returned his smile. The first real smile she had seen on his face all day. But if he’d wanted her half as much as she wanted him they would have been setting up a very different sort of assignation, she reminded herself sadly.
One thing was sure: he wouldn’t have been leaving her to spend their wedding night alone.
ALESSANDRO’S father sat up in bed to stare at his son in tolerant mystification.
‘You come to my rooms at dawn to ask an old man like me what to do about the state of your marriage? Is this really my son Alessandro talking? I would hardly have believed it possible—before Emily came into your life,’ he added, shaking his head. ‘And had it not been for the nonsense you have told me about this—contract—’ he spat out the word ‘—had it not been for that misplaced kindness to me, you would never have found yourself in this mess in the first place. How could you do such a thing, Alessandro? And how could you imagine such a travesty would work?’
I did it for you, Father…only for you, Alessandro thought, taking the rebuke in silence. And in spite of everything he couldn’t find it in his heart to regret a thing…except that by trying to help his father it seemed that he had only succeeded in causing him more pain.
‘Emily is like a tender bud—’
‘I know, Father! I know!’ Alessandro exclaimed impatiently, swiping the back of his neck with his hand as he sprang to his feet to pace the room like a tiger with a thorn in its pad. ‘She is like no other woman I have ever met,’ he went on, shaking his head in utter incomprehension. ‘She shows no real interest in the priceless jewels she is entitled to wear, or the designer clothes I arranged to please her. She chooses instead to devote herself to the needs of our country, and to the small improvements she can make here at the palace. These…these are her passions.’
‘Are you complaining, Alessandro?’
‘No, Father! No. It’s just that I am having to learn a whole new way of dealing with a woman. I feel like a youth embarking on his first love affair—’
‘Perhaps this is your first love affair,’ the old Prince murmured sagely.
‘So, help me, Father. Tell me what to do.’ Alessandro stopped, and levelled a blazing stare on his father’s face. ‘You must help me. Before I lose her.’
‘You know what to do,’ his father told him calmly. ‘You know in your heart what is right, Alessandro. And if you want to make me happy, you will forget all about this foolish contract. Make this marriage work, Alessandro, or spend the rest of your life wishing that you had. It’s up to you.’
Alessandro stopped pacing and stared unseeing into the distance.’ Monte Volere,’ he murmured to himself. ‘I shall take her to Monte Volere.’ Then he turned around.’ Monte Volere, Father!’
‘September…harvest-time in Monte Volere,’ his father commented thoughtfully. ‘A very good place to recharge the batteries of the heart.’
Alessandro felt the tension leave him as he watched a smile of contentment curl around his father’s mouth.
‘I think you’ve redeemed yourself, Alessandro. It’s an excellent idea,’ the old Prince declared with satisfaction.
‘How soon can you be ready to leave?’
‘Leave?’ Emily said, still reeling from being shaken out of her slumbers by an Alessandro she had never seen before—black jeans, black tight-fitting top, black leather jacket slung across the broad sweep of his shoulders, tousled hair and yesterday’s beard throwing shadows across the harsh planes of his handsome face.
But they were man and wife now, and her husband seemed to need her. ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked, instantly alert. ‘Is it your father? Has something happened?’
‘Yes. No. And, no—not yet,’ he said, warming to her concern. ‘My father’s fine; don’t worry.’
Alessandro was all tension and energy, like a coiled spring about to unwind—fast, Emily realised. ‘So…?’ she began curiously.
‘How long?’ Alessandro repeated, not troubling to hide his impatience now.
‘Er…not long,’ Emily admitted. ‘I’d have to shower and—’ She broke off uncertainly. ‘Do I need to pack anything? Bring anything with me?’ she elaborated, drawing up the sheet when the intimacy of his stare brushed something savage in both of them.
‘You can shower when we get there. Come as you are.’
‘In my nightclothes?’
‘Why