Modern Romance September 2017 Books 5 - 8. Кейт Хьюит
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and ploughed on. ‘So why can’t I even take a walk?’
Rafael’s nostrils flared. ‘These are simply measures to ensure your safety.’
‘I’m not made of glass,’ Allegra burst out. ‘I’m not going to break.’
For a second Rafael’s face contorted, and then he looked away. ‘You don’t know that,’ he said quietly. ‘Anything could happen, Allegra.’ His voice went hoarse. ‘Anything.’
Allegra stared at him in confusion, her heart twisting at the look of bleak despair on his face. ‘Rafael...’ she asked softly. ‘What is it that you’re so afraid of?’
‘I’m not...’ he let out a shuddering breath, wiping his hand over his face ‘...losing you. Losing our child.’ He turned away, dropping his hand, the set of his shoulders resolute once more, that brief glimpse of raw vulnerability gone. ‘We came close to losing this baby, Allegra, or at least thinking we were going to lose it. Him. I don’t ever want to feel that again.’
She stared at him, wishing she understood more. Wishing she knew how to reach him. ‘You can’t control everything, you know,’ she said quietly. ‘You can’t prevent accidents from happening, or just life. I need to live, Rafael—’
‘You are living,’ he cut her off dismissively. ‘Enjoy the villa and all it has to offer. Lounge by the pool.’
‘I don’t want to spend every day lounging.’
His expression closed up. ‘I really do not know what you are complaining about.’ And with that he angled his body away from her, pulling a sheaf of papers towards him. So she was being dismissed, like some unruly servant. He wouldn’t even look at her any more. This was how Rafael dealt with people. He wasn’t overprotective, he was compulsively controlling. And it hurt to realise she was just a cog to him, something to move and manipulate accordingly. Stupidly it hurt, because she hadn’t wanted to let herself care. Yet here she was, caring. Hurting.
She stood there for a moment, watching him work, seeing the way he’d completely blanked her out. It was as if she no longer existed. His gaze didn’t flick to her once.
She felt the fury rise again, but with it something far worse. Despair. She couldn’t fight this. Arguing with Rafael, just trying to have a reasonable discussion with him, was like battering her head—her heart—against a brick wall. Because now that she was here, now that she’d come into his life and brought him into hers, she wanted more than this. And she had no idea how to get it.
Without a word she turned on a heel and left his study, slamming the door behind her. The loud thwack as it crashed against the doorframe was satisfying even though she knew the gesture was pointless and childish.
She walked downstairs, fury still pounding through her, along with the despair. She wrenched open the French doors to the terraced gardens, causing Maria to bustle in from the kitchen, her expression alarmed.
‘Signorina—’
‘I’m just going for a walk.’
Maria frowned. ‘Signor Vitali—’
‘I don’t care about Signor Vitali.’ Allegra cut her off, wishing it were true, and she walked out of the house.
FROM THE WINDOW of his study Rafael watched Allegra stride through the gardens, her entire body rigid with affront. He fought the urge to run after her, insist she return to the villa. Keep her safe. He couldn’t control everything, but he’d damned well try. The alternative was unthinkable.
His gaze narrowed as he saw Allegra make her way through the garden to the latticed gate in the high stone wall. He’d forbidden her from leaving the formal gardens, didn’t want her to navigate the steep and rugged mountain terrain surrounding the estate. Cursing under his breath, he saw Allegra wrench open the gate and then stride through the forest, swallowed up by the trees and the dark.
He waited an hour before he went out looking for her, just to show how reasonable he could be. A tense, endless hour when his mind raced with worst-case scenarios and he did his best to stave off the panic he felt skirting the edges of his mind, blurring rational thought. Memories danced like shadows in his mind, of his mother, his sister, his father. Their faces, their words, closed doors, shattered hope.
With a muttered curse Rafael flung open the door to his study. He yanked on a pair of hiking boots and headed outside, the air hot and dusty and dry, the sun beating hard on his head. She shouldn’t have been out in this heat. He didn’t even know if she’d put on sunscreen. And what about a sunhat and proper walking shoes? What if she’d tripped or fallen? His stomach clenched hard and he tasted the metallic tang of fear as he followed her path through the gate, picking up her trail through the broken ferns and grasses along the mountainside. With each step his anxiety grew and his fists clenched at his sides. He felt deep in his gut that something was wrong, that something had happened on his watch. Again.
For a second he could see his mother’s empty eyes, his sister’s wasting body. His father...
Dammit, he couldn’t keep opening the door to all that remembered pain. What was it about Allegra that brought it to the surface? He needed to lock that door tightly, so tightly, before the memories surged around him and he drowned.
He’d been walking for about fifteen minutes, calling Allegra’s name, his voice starting to grow hoarse with panic, when he saw her. She was crumpled up at the bottom of a large boulder, one leg awkwardly angled beneath her, her head lolling back. Her eyes were closed but they fluttered open as Rafael ran towards her, cradling her head in his lap as he said her name over and over again, tears of grief and self-recrimination springing to his eyes.
Her eyes fluttered open and fastened on his. ‘Next you’re going to handcuff me to my bed,’ she murmured. Her face was pale and waxy with a pearly sheen of perspiration but her tiny smile made Rafael’s heart turn over. ‘Just spare me the I-told-you-so, please.’
‘Are you hurt?’ Rafael demanded, his hands shaking as he ran them lightly over his body, looking for bruises or broken bones.
‘My ankle,’ Allegra answered on a shuddery sigh. ‘It’s not broken. At least, I don’t think it is. But I tripped on that stupid rock and went sprawling.’ She pressed one hand to her bump, her voice trembling and her face crumpling as she added, ‘I think the baby’s all right.’
Rafael’s insides felt icy as he bundled her in his arms. She felt light and precious, a treasure he wanted to cling to for ever. The mother of his child. ‘Let’s get you home,’ he said, and, scooping her up, he started back towards the villa.
* * *
The trip back to the villa was a blur; Allegra curled into Rafael, resting her cheek against the hard wall of his chest, taking comfort from the steady thud of his heart. The last hour she’d spent trapped in the woods, the trees dark and menacing all around her, her ankle throbbing, had been truly awful. She’d been afraid for their baby, afraid for herself, and she’d cringed to think of what Rafael’s reaction would be. Yet it wasn’t her freedom or lack of it she was worried about, she realised—it was Rafael. Something was driving him to act in so domineering a manner, something dark and desperate, and she feared in her impetuous folly she’d made it much worse.
To his credit, Rafael didn’t lambast her then. He treated her tenderly, carrying her through the woods, and then calling to Maria to bring cool cloths and compresses and tea as soon as they arrived back at the villa.
The doctor came and looked her over, pronouncing the baby well, the steady thud of his heart on the Doppler wonderfully reassuring. Her ankle was sprained and the doctor bound it up and then gave her strict instructions not to put any weight on it for at least a week, which would undoubtedly please Rafael.
After the doctor had gone Allegra fell asleep, grateful to retreat into oblivion for a little