Modern Romance September 2017 Books 5 - 8. Кейт Хьюит
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in their seats as the music began. Rafael wasn’t that much of a connoisseur of music, but he loved seeing the look of rapt attention on Allegra’s face. She was utterly arrested, a pearly sheen in her eyes, her hands clasped to her chest. He’d never seen someone look so thoroughly enthralled, and it touched a place deep inside him, a place he hadn’t accessed in a long time. It made him yearn and mourn, just as he had when they’d listened to Shostakovich. Watching Allegra, he wanted to feel as much as she did. He wanted to let himself.
The concert came to an end, the last notes of music fading away into an aching stillness, and Allegra rose from her seat, dashing the tears from her face with an embarrassed laugh. ‘Sorry, music always affects me like that.’
In the space of a second he was catapulted back to that night in Rome when she’d said the same thing. When he’d felt as powerfully as he did now, wanting this woman with an intensity that both thrilled and terrified him.
He’d wiped away her tears then, and she’d let him, and then they’d made love. It had been the most incredible sexual experience of his life, and he could remember every exquisite detail of that evening, of Allegra’s response, of the way she’d felt under his hands and mouth.
He watched a rosy blush sweep across Allegra’s skin and knew she remembered it all too. They stared at each other for a prolonged moment, eyes wide, hearts beating hard, the moment spinning on and growing in strength. The desire was still there, and more powerful than ever. More dangerous too. Would they act on it as they had before?
Neither of them spoke in the limo on the way back to the hotel. Rafael couldn’t keep from imagining himself reaching out one hand to tangle in Allegra’s hair, drawing the diamond-tipped pins out one by one and then anchoring his lips to hers. He pictured sliding his hands under her gown, hauling her onto his lap so she was straddling him. With a suppressed groan he shifted on his seat, trying to ease the now persistent ache in his groin. He was torturing himself with these kinds of thoughts.
Allegra was quiet, her face pale, her expression thoughtful as she gazed out at the traffic streaming by in a bright blur of light. He thought she was feeling what he was, but even now he couldn’t be sure. She’d drawn away from him once already. Even if she desired him, he knew that she didn’t want to.
It was a pertinent reminder that, no matter what, sex would be complicated between them. Fraught and maybe emotional. And he didn’t need or want to feel more for this woman than he already did. Then his leg brushed hers and an electric current zinged through his body. He couldn’t help but feel.
They rode up the lift in silence, and then he was swiping the key card and they were in their suite, the rooms dim and hushed, as if everything was waiting for this moment.
It would be so easy to take her into his arms. To plunder her mouth. To peel the dress away from her body. All the things he’d been imagining, wanting...
Everything, anything, felt possible. He heard Allegra draw a shuddering breath and knew she felt it, just as he did. Just as much.
‘Allegra...’ His voice was an ache in the darkness, and he reached out one hand, fingertips brushing her shoulder. Her skin was as soft and silky as he remembered. She shuddered again, a ripple of longing that went through her whole body, and he knew, he knew she would yield. And he wanted her to, desperately. So desperately.
Then Allegra’s phone pinged with an incoming message and in a split second the mood shattered. She slipped away from him, taking her phone out of her clutch and then frowning as she looked down at the screen. A new, different kind of expectation tightened Rafael’s gut.
‘What is it?’
She swallowed audibly. ‘It’s a voicemail from the doctor.’
‘He called in the evening? While we were out?’ His voice was sharp and tense.
‘No, this afternoon. I missed the phone call and the voicemail just came in now.’ She slid him a quick, worried glance. ‘My phone’s old. The messages don’t always come in right away. I should have checked...’ He heard the recrimination in her voice, along with the fear.
‘What does he say?’
Allegra swiped a few buttons and then listened to the call. Rafael watched her face, noticing the way her lips pursed and her eyes clouded, pale red-gold brows drawing together.
‘Allegra...?’ he prompted when she ended the call. Everything in him felt coiled tight, ready to snap.
‘No real news.’ She let out a shuddering breath. ‘Just that the results from the amnio are in and he wants to discuss them with us tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.’
‘All right.’ They stared at each other, the weight of the information pressing down making it hard to breathe. The insistent desire Rafael had been feeling had vanished, leaving only cold trepidation in its wake. ‘At least then we’ll know.’ And then what? What would happen to their child, to them?
‘Yes.’ Allegra tossed her phone and clutch on a chair and wrapped her arms around herself. With her tumbled, fiery curls and her ice-blue gown she looked like a slender, burning flame, and Rafael wanted to wrap her in his arms, not out of desire now but to offer her comfort. The compulsion was so strong it felt like a pain, breaking open a scar deep inside him, a barely healed wound from when he hadn’t been able to help. To save anyone.
‘I should go to bed,’ Allegra said softly. ‘It’s late.’
‘Allegra...’ He wanted to say something of what he felt, desperately needed to offer her some comfort—and yet what comfort could he give? Tomorrow would bring whatever news it did, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
A shudder racked her body and it felt like a wound to his heart. He hated seeing her suffer, knowing she was afraid, just as he was. Then she lifted her head, regarding Rafael with tear-damp, pain-filled eyes. ‘Goodnight, Rafael,’ she whispered, and walked out of the room.
ALLEGRA COULDN’T GET to sleep. She lay on her bed, staring gritty-eyed at the ceiling, everything leaden inside her. It had been such a magical evening, going to the concert with Rafael. All night excitement had been fizzing like champagne through her blood, bubbles popping inside her head. The music. The mood. The moment when Rafael had looked so sexy and intent...and then the realisation, cold and hard, that this was all ephemeral and tomorrow reality would return with a dreadful thud.
She pressed one hand against the soft swell of her bump. Oh, baby. Stay strong. Be safe. Yet she knew it wasn’t in her baby’s power to be healthy. It wasn’t in hers either.
Around two in the morning she finally rose from bed, knowing sleep wasn’t going to come. She was planning to make herself a cup of herbal tea and then sit out on the terrace, watching the city settle down to sleep, but she stopped on the threshold of her bedroom door, for Rafael was sitting in the living room, dressed only in a pair of loose, drawstring pyjama bottoms, a tumbler of whisky cradled in his hands.
He looked up at her quick intake of breath, giving her a smile that was both sad and wry. ‘You couldn’t sleep either?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I was going to make some tea. I’d ask if you wanted some, but I see you’ve got something stronger.’
‘I need it.’ Rafael’s voice was hoarse, and pain flashed like lightning across his face.
It surprised her, because although Rafael was doing what he saw as his duty by her, Allegra had assumed, rightly or wrongly, that he didn’t really want this child. He’d said as much back in Rome, and he’d refused to talk about the what if? scenarios until they knew more. She realised she’d assumed he hadn’t really cared, not the way she did, and yet now, looking at the set of his jaw, the slump of his shoulders, she wondered if he shared her fear, her agony. If he longed for their child to live and be strong and healthy as much as she did.
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