‘And you’ve been eating, haven’t you?’
‘I’ve been eating. I know you’re fully engaged with the pregnancy but you don’t have to caretake me. You’ve phoned a thousand times since you left Ireland.’
Rocco flushed. ‘What’s surprising about that? You’re having my baby. I’m concerned for your well-being. Naturally, I’m going to phone to find out how you are.’
‘Yes, it’s very sweet.’
‘I’m not a sweet person. Anyone would tell you that.’ Sweet? Never a description that had been applied to him. ‘Have you missed me?’ he asked in a husky, lazy voice which matched thelook he shot her from under his lashes. ‘Because I’ve missed you.’
‘It hasn’t been very long… How was New York?’
‘My libido doesn’t keep tabs on time, and New York was New York.’
He stroked the side of her face and smiled when her eyelids fluttered and her lips parted. Their kiss was soft and sweetly captivating. Sliding gently between his lips, her tongue was a lingering caress that did amazing things to his body.
He tugged her closer so that he could feel her against him and he knew that she could feel his stiff erection pushing through the jogging pants he was wearing. ‘Want to take this further?’ he growled. He guided her hand to his erection and encouraged her to massage it.
‘Rocco…’ she breathed.
‘I like it when you say my name. Your accent…turns me on.’
‘Just my accent?’
‘Everything about you turns me on. Why do you think this is going to work so well? This thing between us…this chemistry…makes what we have more than just an arrangement because you’re pregnant.’
But, Ella suddenly thought, that was it, wasn’t it? It was just an arrangement in which the added bonus was sex. She now had so much more of a complete picture of the man he was, the man with the background that had shaped his beliefs, who was quietly convinced that to love and to be vulnerable in love was something he could never do. This would be a marriage on his terms and, if she hoped that she could reach inside and slowly guide him to a place where he would give without thought the love he now felt he couldn’t give, then she would have to be wary of losing herself in the process.
She might have put Steve into perspective, downplayed the heartbreak she had felt because he had been so insignificantcompared to Rocco, but the disappointment in that relationship, in the why and the how it had failed, was very real. He had let her down, and she had to protect herself against being let down by Rocco.
Yes, there was a sincerity about him that Steve had never possessed underneath the glib charm, but there was a lot of road to be travelled before she could fully trust him.
He had concealed the truth from her once, whatever genuine excuses he had made about that.
But how she was tempted to toss in the towel and go for broke on the trust front…
‘We have time for…you know…all of that. And, actually, I’m quite hungry.’
‘Yes. Dinner.’
‘You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble,’ was the first thing she said when she was confronted with the elaborate French meal that had been prepared by one of Rocco’s favourite chefs of a Michelin-starred restaurant a stone’s throw away.
‘What trouble? Everything was delivered in heat-proof containers, ready for the oven. I didn’t have to do anything.’ He shrugged. ‘Jean Claude is a personal friend and, whenever I want something, he’s always happy to help out.’
‘TheJean Claude?’
‘The very same.’ Rocco nodded at his granite-topped table and watched as she warily sat down, looking around her all the while.
He suddenly realised that he was so accustomed to the very pinnacle of luxury that he rarely noticed his surroundings. Now, though, he looked at his own house through her eyes: a sprawling London townhouse in one of the most expensive postcodes in the capital. Close to eight-thousand square feet ofprime real estate. He had originally bought it because it was conveniently located for his offices, and because it was light and airy, and that reminded him of Spain.
Every room had soaring ceilings. The artwork was priceless, the sort of artwork many people might keep locked away for insurance purposes, but for him, what was the point of that? The furnishings were pale and minimalist, every single piece bespoke, and had been chosen and sourced globally by the most expensive interior design team in the city.
When he remembered her father’s cosy place—the Christmas tree with the hand-made decorations; the old, comfortable sofas; the weathered kitchen table and the feel ofloveimbued into everything—Rocco felt something pierce him deep inside. Ella would be entering his highly refined, wealthy orbit. It was a world to which he was wedded and she would be as well. The comparison to the one she inhabited now, the one she had grown up around, and his own could not have been more stark.
Another reason to make sure that they didn’t start this very important next step with her harbouring any romantic illusions that he would ever become the sort of cosy, homey guy she had probably been brought up to seek out as a mate. He couldn’t change his destiny, and experience had taught him that it was best served with rigorous discipline and control. He was who he was and she would, essentially, have to fall in line.
He served the food, waving down her offers of help. Then, when they were facing one another at the table, he said, gently but in a businesslike voice, ‘To recap what we briefly touched on before, Ella—documents have to be signed. I can make an appointment for us to see lawyers first thing tomorrow so we can get the ball rolling on the financial front.’
‘I’ve only just got here!’ She dived into the food and glanced up at him from under her lashes. ‘What’s happened to the guided tour?’
