helplessly as both men went down on their knees beside Sandro. Her heart was pumping very slowly now and she had a vague suspicion that she might be going into shock because she couldn’t seem to feel anything else at all.
Even when Sandro showed signs of coming round she still didn’t feel anything. Eventually he sat up, holding his head in his hands. His brother was murmuring something to him and Sandro was answering in low, thick Italian. All three men seemed to understand what had happened, which left only Cassie without a clue. A severe shock could make a woman faint, she knew that. It could make a man black out. But she knew that what she had witnessed with Sandro was much more than that.
Then she heard Marco murmur in English, ‘We need to get you to bed, Alessandro.’
And she came alive like a phoenix rising up from the ashes of numbed senses. Without saying a word she just leapt up and ran out of the living room and into Sandro’s bedroom, then began rushing around it, madly trying to tidy the evidence of their recent activities in there before the others came in and saw it and guessed what had been going on.
She found her stockings and Sandro’s socks then remembered with a sharp jolt that he wasn’t wearing any shoes. Gio and his brother had to be curious as to why he wasn’t, which meant…
Oh, shut up! she slammed at the riddling squirm of her own guilty conscience and was just straightening the rumpled blue coverlet when a sound by the door made her look up then go perfectly still.
Sandro was leaning heavily against the doorframe. ‘I see we are both on the same wavelength, which makes a change…’ he drawled, glancing around the hastily tidied bedroom.
‘You look dreadful,’ Cassie breathed, slowly straightening up.
‘I feel it.’ He grimaced. ‘I’m sorry. Did I scare you again?’
Her throat felt so thick she couldn’t get any words out, so she swallowed tensely and nodded. Then because he looked as if he was going to keel over again she went and slid her arm around his waist.
‘Y-you need to be in bed.’
One of his arms arrived heavy across her shoulders. ‘So I do,’ he agreed.
‘Let me call your brother and Gio to come and help you—’
‘You can’t. I sent them packing.’
‘But—why?’ Cassie gasped out.
‘Their presence here embarrassed you.’
‘What has that got to do with anything?’ She flashed a sharp green look at him. ‘Your health is more important than my embarrassment. Not five minutes ago you were lying unconscious—again!’
‘Now I’m not,’ he responded with cool logic, ‘though I cannot guarantee to remain upright for much longer, so if you think you could…’
‘Oh.’ Cassie tightened her grip on his waist. ‘Let’s get you to bed, then.’
‘Best invitation I’ve had all day—’
‘Don’t you dare make a joke of it!’ she choked out. ‘Have you any idea what it’s like to watch you drop like that? I thought you were dead! I thought you’d suffered a m-massive heart attack or s-something and I…’
‘OK—OK,’ Sandro cut in soothingly. ‘Don’t start weeping on me, brave Cassie. Just help me across the room so I can fall on that bed.’
Pinning her trembling lips together, she did as he bade her. Brave Cassie indeed. She hadn’t felt brave while she’d sat beside him. She’d felt helpless and useless and scared.
As they reached the bed Sandro swung his arm off her shoulders and sat down heavily, then just keeled over like a drunk.
Still without allowing herself to say another word, Cassie busied herself doing the mothering thing and placed a knee on the bed so she could reach across to the other side of him and catch up the cover so she could flip it over his length.
‘I’m not cold,’ he told her, his ink-dark eyes fixed on her pale profile.
‘You feel it,’ she insisted.
‘I thought you did not want to come near me again.’
It was a taunt, a soft and husky-voiced kind of taunt that made the muscles around Cassie’s heart flutter in response. She opened her mouth to insist that she didn’t want to be near him, then on a heavy sigh she changed her mind and sank down beside him on the bed, slumping her shoulders in a weary gesture of defeat.
‘Tell me what’s wrong with you,’ she requested.
He was silent for so long that she thought he must have gone to sleep but when she turned her head to look at him he was still watching her through those unfairly captivating, fathom-dark eyes and a lump formed in her throat because—oh, dear God—she knew deep down inside her that she was still in love with him.
‘They knew what was going on—Gio and your brother the doctor,’ she prompted. ‘I saw it in their faces the moment I opened the door to them. For ninety-nine per cent of the time you’re so strong and vital I would challenge a tank to try and knock you over…’ without knowing she was doing it, she reached out to rest her hand against his chest above his beating heart ‘… but I’ve seen you drop twice now, and you usually rub your brow and frown just before it happens as if—as if—’
‘I’m in pain, which I am,’ Sandro finished for her. ‘The car accident left a—pressure on my brain which makes itself felt now and then.’
‘So it isn’t just m-me that causes it?’
She sounded so vulnerable when she said that, Sandro released a small sigh and his hand arrived to cover hers. ‘It can be bad sometimes…’ He hedged the question.
‘Bad enough to make you pass out—a lot?’
‘No,’ he denied. ‘Occasionally—rarely. I get these flashes of memory which hit me out of nowhere. They’re sometimes followed by…’
‘A complete shut-down.’
‘Sí.’
‘Can anything be done to ease the—pressure?’
‘Can we talk about the twins instead?’
The twins…! Once again, Cassie was hit by a jolt of reality. ‘Oh, heck,’ she gasped, jumping to her feet. She’d done it again and forgotten all about the twins! Flicking a glance at her watch, ‘It’s late. I’ve got to go…’
‘To relieve the babysitter?’ He sounded grim again.
‘Yes.’ Looking around her, trying to remember where she’d stashed her stockings in her rush to hide the evidence of what they’d been doing in here, she explained, ‘Jenny is very good but I promised her I would be back home by midnight—’
‘Like Cinderella.’
‘No…’ impatience added bite to her answer ‘… like a single mother who cherishes a reliable babysitter so does not take advantage of her time!’
Sandro frowned at his watch then, noted what Cassie already knew—that she had only fifteen minutes left to her midnight deadline—and with a lithe stretching movement he discarded the cover and rose up off the bed.
‘I will take you—’
‘No!’ Cassie cried out. ‘You should have stayed where you were! I can call a cab—’
He turned on her, scowling now as if she’d offended his masculinity. ‘Either I take you home or you will use my driver!’ he slammed out with a force that made Cassie blanch.
‘All right!’ she shot back in quivering reaction. ‘I’ll let your driver take me! I don’t know why you needed to shout.’
‘Grazie,’ he teethed out, and reached over