Читать книгу Modern Romance September 2017 Books 5 - 8 - Кейт Хьюит - Страница 15

CHAPTER FIVE

ALLEGRA BLINKED SLEEPILY in the early evening gloom of the hotel suite’s master bedroom. She’d fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep almost as soon as her head had touched the soft, feather down pillow, and judging by the twilight settling softly over the city sky she’d been asleep for several hours.

She stretched and then snuggled under the soft duvet, tempted to stay there for ever. When they’d arrived at the hotel suite, Rafael had been graciousness itself, insisting she take the master bedroom, ringing for some juice when she said she was thirsty, and telling her to sleep for as long as she’d liked.

When she’d crawled into the king-sized bed Allegra had realised just how exhausted she really was, and her last thought before she drifted off was that she was, in the end, glad Rafael had insisted she come here. Not that she intended on admitting as much to him.

Now, as she struggled to a sitting position with a wide yawn, she wondered what exactly she was supposed to do here. What they were supposed to do. An afternoon was one thing, but did Rafael really expect her to stay here for two weeks, kicking her heels, until the amnio results came back? And what was he going to do while she waited? How were they supposed to get along? Battling deeper unease, Allegra rose from the bed.

She treated herself to a long, lovely soak in the sunken marble tub and then dressed in her summery trousers and top before heading into the main living area of the suite in search of Rafael.

He was sitting at a desk in a study alcove off the sumptuous living room, frowning down at his laptop, but he looked up quickly as she stepped from the doorway of the bedroom.

His gaze scanned her searchingly from her damp hair curling about her face to her bare feet. ‘You slept well?’

‘Yes, very well. It’s been ages.’ It was, she’d seen as she’d dressed, nearly seven o’clock at night.

‘Are you hungry?’ Rafael rose from the desk. ‘I ordered a variety of dishes from room service. I hoped something might appeal to you.’

‘That’s very kind of you.’ After months of barely managing a mouthful, she knew she needed to eat more.

‘Come into the dining room.’

Allegra followed him into the dining room that adjoined the kitchen, which was just as elegant as every other room in the suite. The place was twenty times the size of her studio, decorated with silks and satins, antiques and exquisite paintings. She felt almost as if she were in a museum—a very comfortable, luxurious museum.

‘Wow,’ Allegra managed, surprised and touched by the spread of food left in warming dishes on the table. She saw clear broths and simple pasta dishes, fresh fruit and half a dozen different salads. Amazingly, despite the constant nausea she’d been battling for the last few months, she felt a little hungry. ‘This looks amazing.’

‘Take whatever you like. We can eat out on the terrace.’

‘Thank you.’ He was being so kind, and yet she was afraid to trust it. Reluctant to start depending on his charity and consideration, when it all could change so suddenly...just as it had before.

Rafael handed her a plate and Allegra took it and began to serve herself from some of the dishes. ‘How were you able to book the penthouse suite of this place?’ she asked. ‘I’ve heard it’s booked months in advance.’

Rafael shrugged one powerful shoulder. ‘Considering I own this hotel, it was not a problem.’

He owned this hotel? It was one of the city’s best. Allegra had known Rafael was wealthy and powerful, but it was brought home to her yet again in that moment—along with the realisation of how he could wield that power, if he so chose. How he already had, taking over her father’s business. This was man who was ruthless, brutal in his determination to get what he wanted...whatever that was. She needed to remember that.

Allegra finished filling her plate and then took it outside to the terrace overlooking Central Park. The air was a balmy caress, and the terrace was decorated with potted plants and fairy-lights, making it feel like a little bit of the park had been brought thirty floors up.

‘This is lovely,’ she said as she sat on a chaise and picked at a few mouthfuls of pasta salad. ‘Thank you.’

Rafael sat across from her, his plate balanced on his lap. He was wearing the dark trousers and crisp white shirt he’d worn earlier, the shirt now opened at the collar, revealing the strong column of his throat. Stubble glinted on his jaw and the whiteness of the shirt was a perfect foil for his burnished, olive skin. He looked, Allegra acknowledged with a pang, as devastatingly attractive as he had that night in Rome. As irresistibly desirable...except, of course, she would resist him. She had to, because the situation was fraught enough, dangerous enough. She couldn’t let herself depend on him any more than she already was. She certainly couldn’t start to care for him.

‘I’ve arranged for you to take the next two weeks off work,’ Rafael stated as he forked a mouthful of pasta.

‘What? How?’

‘I spoke to your employer and landlord, Anton. He understands.’

Allegra’s head was spinning. ‘But you... Two weeks?’ She blinked at him. ‘But—’

‘You have exhausted yourself, whether you realise it or not. You need a proper rest, both for your own health and our child’s.’

Allegra couldn’t deny that, but she still chafed against his commands. She was used to being independent. She needed to feel strong. ‘That was not your call to make. This is my life, Rafael.’

‘And as I said before, I know you want what is best for the baby.’

It was a trump card he could play every time, and there was nothing she could do about it, because he was right. She enjoyed her job, but it had been exhausting and she knew she couldn’t keep it up for ever. A rest, even one that was enforced, had some merit, as reluctant as she was to admit it to him.

But a rest here with Rafael? Allegra still couldn’t imagine spending the next two weeks with him. There was so much they hadn’t discussed...his heartless dismissal of her after their night together, her hiding her pregnancy, even the business his father had had with hers. Her father’s death. There was so much tension and latent anger and uncertainty—and now they were meant to get along?

And beyond that, she didn’t even know Rafael. She’d intentionally tried not to think of him since they’d parted, wanting to forget about him completely. She’s resisted doing Internet searches, even though she’d been tempted to know more about him.

And now here they were, sitting across from each other, their baby nestled inside her. Allegra didn’t know what to think of any of it, how to respond, how to feel. Part of her was clamouring for retreat, while another part recognised that that was no longer an option, not with a child to think of. A child to love.

In any case, now certainly wasn’t the time to tackle any of those difficult issues. They just needed to get through the next two weeks and see what the results of the amniocentesis were.

They spent the evening, incongruously, sitting next to each other on the sumptuous silk-covered sofa, watching TV on a huge flat screen that had been hidden behind an oil painting. After the first few tense minutes Allegra started to relax, enjoying being able to turn off her brain and watch reality TV fluff. And she enjoyed the feel of Rafael’s strong body next to her, his thigh touching hers, his arm stretched along the back of the sofa. She could almost imagine this was normal, that she was normal, with a baby and a husband and a life like so many women wanted and had.

Which was a very dangerous way to think.

The next morning Rafael suggested they go to her flat to pick up her things, and they rode in silence down Park Avenue to her little studio. It felt strange to have Rafael in her personal space, his inscrutable gaze flicking over her belongings—her framed concert posters, her few personal photos—even the shelf of well-thumbed cookbooks in the tiny alcove kitchen felt revealing of her somehow.

‘I didn’t realise you actually played.’ He nodded towards the cello on its stand in the corner.

‘I don’t, not really.’ She looked away, not wanting to talk about her cello playing, or lack of it. She hadn’t played since she was eighteen years old.

‘Do you wish to bring it to the hotel?’

‘No,’ she said after a moment, her tone reluctant but firm. ‘I won’t play it.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’

He stared at her for a moment, his gaze narrowed, as if he was trying to figure out what was going on in her head. Allegra looked away. She couldn’t explain her complicated relationship to music, how much it meant to her, how it had provided something she knew instinctively people were meant to provide. She certainly didn’t want to go into the reason why she’d stopped playing the cello, the dismal failure she’d been. Thankfully Rafael let the subject drop.

After gathering her clothes, books, and a few personal items, they headed back to the hotel. Allegra knew she couldn’t put off something she’d been dreading—calling her mother.

Although they lived in the same city, she and Jennifer rarely saw each other. Her mother had her own life on the Upper East Side, tightly enfolded in a clique of aging socialites and impoverished divorcées, trying to live in the manner she preferred with the help of boyfriends and benefactors, and an endless diatribe of high-strung negativity.

Allegra understood the reason for it, knew her mother had never recovered from her father’s divorce and abandonment, his decision to end their marriage so abruptly and cut them off with barely a cent, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with her.

Jennifer hadn’t been much interested in Allegra’s pregnancy so far, except to remind her repeatedly that single motherhood was no picnic, thereby launching down an endless memory lane trip of her own struggles and regrets until Allegra had tuned her mother out. But the mention of a wealthy father to her grandchild was sure to prick Jennifer’s ears up and have her asking all sorts of questions. Questions Allegra didn’t feel much up to answering right now.

After she’d unpacked in her room, and with Rafael installed in the study on his laptop, Allegra made the call.

‘You’re what?’ Jennifer asked sharply when Allegra had explained she was staying at the hotel.

‘Just for a little while.’ Allegra took a deep breath. ‘Rafael Vitali is...he’s the father of my baby. We...we got together when I was in Italy.’

‘Rafael Vitali? This is the son of Marco Vitali?’

Startled, Allegra said, ‘I... I suppose so. I don’t know. Why? Do you know his father?’

‘Your father did business with him a long time ago,’ Jennifer said after a pause. ‘It didn’t work out.’

Unease prickled along Allegra’s spine. She thought of Rafael’s cold remark. ‘I am not the only one with blood on my hands.’

‘What do you mean, it didn’t work out?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Jennifer dismissed. ‘It’s in the past. But be careful,’ she added in an unusual display of motherly concern. ‘Your father didn’t trust his, and I... I wouldn’t trust him either.’

She didn’t trust him. Didn’t want to trust him. And yet... ‘I trust Rafael to care for his child,’ Allegra said, because that, at least, was true.

Out in the living area Rafael looked up from his laptop when she emerged from the bedroom.

‘You called your mother?’

‘Yes.’ Allegra paused, wondering how much she wanted to probe the past. ‘She mentioned that your father did business with mine, and that it didn’t work out.’

A lightning flash of emotion sliced across Rafael’s face, too quickly for her to discern what it was, and then he carefully closed his laptop. ‘Yes, that is true. They worked together on a mobile phone technology that would now be considered laughably obsolete, and they fell out over it.’

‘Fell out?’ Allegra regarded him uneasily, sensing something dark flowing beneath his calm surface, and nervous to dip a toe into it. ‘Is that why you decided to take over my father’s company? Some kind of revenge for what happened before?’

‘Justice,’ Rafael corrected swiftly. His face remained bland, but Allegra saw that his eyes were watchful and hard.

‘What do you mean, justice? What are you not telling me? And why... why did you make that comment about blood on your hands?’

Rafael’s jaw tightened, his eyes like chips of amber. ‘Now is not the time to delve into the past.’

‘But it’s obviously important—’

‘What is important is your health and well-being.’ He rose from the desk. ‘I have booked some spa treatments for you this afternoon to help you relax. They are aimed specifically at pregnant women.’

‘Oh...’ Allegra blinked, startled all over again. ‘Thank you.’ She felt as if her head was spinning. One moment Rafael seemed as hard and unyielding as granite, and the next he was all softness and solicitude. Which was the real man? Who did she dare trust...if either?

* * *

Rafael paced the living room of the hotel suite, waiting for Allegra to return from her afternoon of spa treatments. He felt anxious, and he didn’t even know why. At least, not exactly why. Since Allegra had catapulted back into his life he’d been struggling with a tidal wave of fury that she’d attempted to hide her pregnancy from him, and a stronger surge of both protectiveness and fear to keep both her and their child safe.

The memory of when he’d failed his family, his fists beating on his father’s study door, his useless words. And then the aftermath. His mother’s wan face, his sister’s desperate defiance...their whole family falling to pieces, disintegrating before his eyes. It tormented him, when he allowed himself to think of it. The thought of failing Allegra and their child in a similar way or even at all was appalling. Unacceptable. And he wouldn’t let it happen. He would do everything in his power to keep Allegra and their baby safe and well. Everything...for her well-being as well as his own.

He knew Allegra had questions about his father. His past. The deception and death that still haunted his nightmares and could ruin things between them. She still loved her father—that much was obvious—even though the man had abandoned her. He couldn’t tell her the truth about him, not without jeopardising their own situation and Allegra’s barely-there trust in him. The past, he determined, would have to stay buried.

* * *

The door to the suite opened and Allegra stepped inside, and the clear purity of her smile, the ivory blush of her skin made something twist hard inside Rafael’s gut. He suddenly felt breathless, which was entirely a new feeling and made him feel poleaxed, reeling from the strength of his own reaction. He forced a smile.

‘How was it?’

‘Wonderful. I feel more relaxed than I have...well, ever.’ She let out a little laugh, her grey eyes sparkling like silver. ‘I’ve never even had a massage before. And look at my nails!’ She held out her hands to him, her nails painted pale pink, and as a matter of course Rafael caught them up in his, drew her to him.

Allegra came easily, caught up in the moment, and he wasn’t even thinking as he bent his head to kiss her, already anticipating the sweet, soft taste of her. Her lips parted soundlessly, her eyes fluttering closed, her golden-red lashes fanning onto her porcelain cheeks.

His lips brushed hers and Allegra let out a little sigh. Rafael pulled her closer and then he felt her stiffen in his arms. Her eyes flew open, filled with confusion. She shook her head and then drew away.

‘No, I’m sorry...we can’t...’

Of course they couldn’t. The last thing they needed was this kind of complication...except he wanted it so badly. Rafael raked a hand through his hair, desire surging through his body. He was shocked by his instantaneous and overwhelming response, his heart thudding.

Allegra was still looking at him in dazed confusion, her pupils dilated with desire even as her mouth twisted with uncertainty.

The time would come, Rafael decided. Maybe not yet, not when everything was so uncertain, when their child’s future hung in the balance. But the time would come. It had to.