Latin Lovers: Italian Husbands: The Italian's Bought Bride / The Italian Playboy's Secret Son / The Italian Doctor's Perfect Family. Кейт Хьюит

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as his own.

      Wouldn’t.

      He’d been down that road once before, knew where it ended, and it was nowhere he wanted to be.

      He leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. He’d kissed Allegra because he’d wanted to; he’d wanted to feel her lips under his, her body against his. He’d wanted to discover if the reality lived up to his dreams.

      And did it? he wondered with a cynical smile.

      Perhaps, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to kiss Allegra again.

      She was Lucio’s therapist, nothing more.

      Never, he told himself savagely, anything more again.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON FOUND Allegra in her office, Lucio’s case notes scattered on her desk. She gazed unseeingly out of the window at a dank, grey London sky and waited for Stefano’s call.

      She’d been quite determined, after that shocking, shattering kiss, not to take Lucio’s case. The personal conflict was obvious and overwhelming.

      There were plenty of other art therapists, she told herself. Ones who were more experienced as well as not personally involved.

      Yet was she personally involved? Her mind staunchly said no, but the rest of her, her body still remembering that tide of desire, spoke differently.

      Yet she wanted to take the case, she realized. She was professional enough to separate any feelings for Stefano from her work with Lucio, and she wanted to help this boy whose case notes spoke of a tragic, silent eight months. She wanted to help him for his own sake as well as for her own.

      The idea of working intensively with one child for a prolonged period of time was inspiring, exciting. No more forty-five minute slots while parents waited, desperate for her to have made a difference.

      No endless slog of case after case without hope or happiness.

      She wanted this change, this chance.

      Even if Stefano was involved.

      Especially if Stefano was involved.

      For while this could be an opportunity with Lucio, it was also an opportunity to put the past to rest. Redeem it, even.

      And show Stefano, once and for all, that she was not that girl any more, the girl he thought he knew, the girl who’d loved him.

      The phone trilled, startling Allegra out of her thoughts. She picked it up.

      ‘Hello?’

      ‘Allegra.’ It sounded like a caress somehow, even though his voice was brisk. ‘You’ve seen Lucio’s case notes?’

      ‘Yes.’

      There was a moment of pulsing silence and Allegra realized how hard her heart was beating.

      ‘And?’

      ‘Yes, I’ll take the case, Stefano. Although …’

      ‘You have some reservations.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Because of our kiss the other night.’ He spoke steadily, without apology or concern, yet Allegra found her hand gripping the telephone receiver far too tightly.

      ‘Yes,’ she said after a moment of tense silence. ‘Stefano, as we’ve said, I’m coming to Abruzzo in a professional capacity. There can’t be—’

      ‘There won’t.’

      She blinked, swallowed, strangely, stupidly stung that he sounded so certain. ‘Even so,’ she forced herself to continue, ‘I don’t want there to be any … tension … because of what has happened between us. It would be best for Lucio, as well as for ourselves, if we could be friends.’

      ‘Then we will be.’

      Allegra gave a shaky laugh, for she knew it wasn’t that simple, and surely Stefano knew it as well. You couldn’t will yourself into being friends; you couldn’t will feelings or memories to disappear.

      You could just put them in a box.

      ‘You never kissed me like that when we were engaged,’ she blurted, and then wished she hadn’t. Stefano was silent although she could hear him breathing.

      ‘You were nineteen,’ he finally said, his voice flat. ‘A child, as you pointed out to me. I was taking my time with you, Allegra.’ He paused, she waited. ‘You weren’t, however, a child last night. But have no fear. It’s an incident that will not be repeated.’

      He spoke so firmly and finally that Allegra was left with nothing left to do but accept.

      ‘All right, then,’ she finally said. She knew there was no point trawling old ground over the telephone.

      ‘I’m flying to London next Friday,’ Stefano said. ‘That should give you time to hand off any cases, and you can return to Rome with me. From there we’ll go to Abruzzo.’

      ‘All right.’

      ‘Email me with anything you’ll need for your work,’ Stefano said, ‘and I’ll arrange for it to be there when you arrive.’

      ‘Fine …’

      He gave her his email address and then, when the only thing left to say was goodbye, he surprised her.

      ‘Allegra,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘You’re welcome,’ Allegra said. ‘I’m looking forward to it, Stefano. I want to help Lucio.’

      ‘So do I.’

      More silence, and Allegra longed to say something, but she didn’t know what it was. What did you say to someone you’d been planning on spending the rest of your life with? Having his children?

      Loving him?

      What did you say to someone who had never loved you back, who had planned to marry you for your name and your status and nothing else?

      What did you say to someone who had broken your heart?

      ‘Goodbye,’ she finally said quietly, and put down the telephone.

      In the end, it was remarkably easy to hand off her few cases. Since she freelanced, her work wasn’t permanent anyway, and within a week she’d cleared her desk, sublet her flat and packed two suitcases with the things she thought she’d need.

      It was strange and a bit disturbing to realize how easily she’d dismantled her life, a life she’d built with her own sweat and tears over the last seven years. None of it had been easy, and yet now, for the present, it was gone.

      It was a cloudy day in mid-September, the leaves drifting down in lazy circles under a wispy blue sky, when Stefano arranged to pick her up.

      Allegra waited outside since it was warm, felt nerves leap to life as she gazed down Camberwell Road for the first sign of Stefano’s luxurious black car.

      When it finally pulled sleekly into view, she was calm, focussed on the firm purpose of her journey and its destination.

      Stefano exited the car. He was dressed in a dark suit, a mobile phone pressed to his ear, and his manner was so abrupt and impersonal that any anxiety Allegra had felt about seeing him again since their kiss trickled shamefacedly away.

      At the moment, he looked as if he didn’t even remember her, much less their kiss. She wondered if he’d spared it a moment’s thought, while she’d given it several hours’ confused contemplation.

      Stefano was still on his phone as the driver put her bags in the boot and Allegra climbed into the car.

      They pulled away from her street, her home, her life, and Stefano hadn’t even said hello.

      Twenty minutes into their journey, Stefano finally finished


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