Capelli’s Captive Virgin

by Sarah Morgan

  His eyes gleamed. ‘You want to tell the press how well you know me?’

  Lindsay blushed. ‘Maybe not. And anyway, you weren’t wrong. You were right about everything you said.’ She gave a tiny shrug and a painful smile. ‘You were honest. Was that difficult to hear? Yes, it was. But it was also important. You’ve made me see things more clearly.’ She was thinking not only of Ruby, but her mother. ‘I need to do things differently. And one of those things is not calling Ruby every five minutes. My hands are itching to pick up that phone and just keep dialling until eventually she picks up, but I know I’ve got to let go. She’ll phone me when she’s ready. And when she does, I’ll just listen.’

  ‘Why don’t you try encouraging your sister and see if that helps?’

  ‘You mean tell her that it’s fine to have an affair with Dino? I’m not sure I can go that far—’

  ‘She’s having one anyway,’ Alessio said dryly, ‘with or without your consent. I’m no expert on human behaviour, but it seems to me that the more you try and rein her in, the more she rebels.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ Lindsay said humbly. ‘I’m just worried about her. Worried that she’ll be hurt. I don’t want that to happen.’

  ‘Being hurt is part of growing up,’ Alessio said unsympathetically. ‘She’ll be hurt—then she’ll toughen up.’

  Lindsay hesitated, wondering how much to tell him. ‘Not everyone is as strong as you.’

  ‘She won’t discover how strong she is with you protecting her all the time. Learning how to get yourself out of the trouble you’ve created is part of growing up. Why do you feel so responsible for her?’

  Lindsay picked at her fruit. ‘I’m older than her.’ And she knew what Ruby was capable of doing.

  ‘And being older than her means that you have to act like her mother?’

  ‘Not just because I’m older.’ Lindsay picked up her coffee cup and took a sip, too confused in her head to try and articulate her feelings about her parents. ‘Ruby—trusts me. She talks to me. Or she used to. And I’ve seen her in this situation before. I’ve seen her so head over heels in love with someone that she can’t think straight—that the whole of the rest of her life just seems to go out of the window.’

  ‘That’s also part of growing up.’

  ‘Maybe. But last time—’ Lindsay broke off, her instinctive discretion warring with a strange desire to confide in him.

  Why? Why was she finding it so easy to talk to him? It wasn’t as if he were pushing her for information. On the contrary, he was lounging in his chair, totally relaxed, just contributing the odd remark.

  The odd, extremely astute remark.

  He was a good listener—

  ‘She took pills,’ Lindsay said flatly, her hand shaking suddenly as she returned her cup to the saucer. ‘Ruby swallowed the contents of a bottle of tablets that a doctor had given her to help her sleep after the break up. And she took them while she was staying in the flat with me. That’s how I managed to find her and act so quickly.’

  ‘And you’re worried that if it happens again, you won’t be around to bail her out.’

  ‘Yes.’ It was the intimacy they’d shared, she decided, that made it so easy to talk to him.

  ‘So what are you going to do?’ His voice was level. ‘Live your life glued to her side so that you can grab her wrist before she opens another bottle?’

  Lindsay flinched. ‘That’s a very lawyer-like response. Hard and factual.’

  ‘Pragmatic,’ he drawled softly. ‘And you need to stop feeling responsible for her. You can offer support, but you can’t live her life. If you try and do that you’re just going to be hurt, over and over again.’

  ‘I just hate to see her walking into trouble.’

  ‘How do you know she’s in trouble?’

  Lindsay glanced at him helplessly. ‘Because she didn’t turn up to work. Because she’s with your brother and it’s obviously just about sex and—’ She broke off, realising that she could just as easily be describing her relationship with Alessio and clearly he was thinking it too because suddenly the tension in the atmosphere snapped tight. ‘That sort of relationship is asking for trouble.’

  ‘Is it?’ The soft emphasis left her in no doubt that they were no longer talking about Ruby.

  The breath caught in her throat. Trouble? Oh, yes, she was in big trouble and she knew it. Those ominous clouds that were currently just a shadow on the horizon of her mind would build and build. Sooner or later she was going to have to confront them, but it wasn’t going to be now. For now, she was still in the sunshine.

  ‘I’m not the same person as Ruby. I can separate sex from love.’ She hoped she sounded convincing, but she was horribly aware of his thoughtful gaze lingering on her face.

  Agitated, she stared out across the bay and he watched her for a long moment and then poured himself another cup of coffee.

  ‘Tell me more about what happened with Ruby the first time.’

  ‘The guy she was seeing—well, he suddenly announced that he was marrying someone else and the end of that relationship was nearly the end of her. Ruby always expects too much of relationships. As soon as a guy looks at her she starts imagining weddings and—’ Lindsay broke off and folded her arms around her body, horribly conscious of his penetrative gaze. ‘It’s my fault. I should have tried harder to persuade her to come back to London.’

  Alessio was silent for a moment and then he stirred. ‘It sounds as though my brother might have his hands full,’ he said dryly, an ironic gleam in his eyes. ‘It will do both of them good. And now I don’t want to talk about them anymore. I’m tired of my brother and I’m tired of your sister. You’ve barely eaten anything—are you feeling ill?’

  ‘No.’ She flashed him a quick smile and shook her head. ‘It’s all delicious, I’m just not that hungry.’

  ‘With the amount of physical activity we indulged in last night and this morning,’ he drawled softly, ‘you should be starving, tesoro.’

  No one had ever spoken to her in such an intimate way before and she felt herself colour.

  ‘I’m fine. So will you take on the actor as a client?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet.’ He stretched his legs out in front of him, staring at the clear ocean.

  ‘Well, he’s worth a lot so it would be lucrative.’

  ‘I don’t do it for the money.’

  ‘No.’ Lindsay spoke quietly. ‘I know you don’t. You do it for other reasons.’

  He turned his head and looked at her, his expression suddenly thoughtful. ‘And you think you know those reasons?’

  ‘Well, you obviously don’t need the money.’ Lindsay glanced round their island paradise with a faint smile. ‘You’re a very intelligent man and you obviously find being a lawyer intellectually stimulating. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?’

  ‘Is there?’

  ‘Alessio, you could have chosen to specialise in any number of different areas, but you chose to be a divorce lawyer. And you only act for men. Never women.’

  His eyes held hers. ‘Clients approach me.’

  ‘But you’re very selective about who you act for. Sometimes it seems as though you’re trying to get revenge on the whole female sex. And yet I know you don’t hate women. I think you just hate women who try and benefit from marriage.’ She hesitated. ‘Were your parents divorced?’ Seeing the sudden tension in his shoulders, she cursed herself softly. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘None of my business.’

  ‘I come from a tiny village in Sicily, which is still living in another time,’ he said evenly. ‘Divorce doesn’t happen. They handle marital disharmony in an entirely different way.’

  ‘You mean they have affairs.’

  ‘Two people are not meant to be locked together for ever. The best that anyone can hope for is serial monogamy.’

  ‘If your father had lots of affairs, then I can understand why you might come to that conclusion.’

  He dragged his gaze f
rom hers and concentrated his attention on a yacht that skimmed past them, the wind inflating the sails. It was a full minute before he responded.

  ‘It wasn’t my father who had the affairs,’ he said flatly. ‘It was my mother. And I can’t imagine for a moment why I’m telling you this.’

  Lindsay stared at his hard profile, feeling incredibly stupid and exasperated with herself. ‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘Of course. It would have been your mother.’

  ‘Of course?’ He turned then, his eyes glittering dangerously, his face more impossibly handsome than ever. ‘Why “of course”?’ His tone was brittle and she knew that they’d sailed into dangerous waters, but she still felt warm inside because he had confided in her and she knew enough about him to realise the significance of that.

  He trusted her.

  ‘How do I know it was your mother? Because you refuse to create an emotional bond with women. Because you rescue men from bad marriages to women who aren’t in love with them.’

  ‘You’ve clearly spent a lot of time analysing me,’ he drawled and Lindsay shook her head, sensing his immediate withdrawal.

  ‘Of course I haven’t. But we’ve been together these last few days so it would have been impossible for me to not notice certain things about you—’

  ‘Then you’ve probably also noticed that I’m not into talking about myself—’ he rose to his feet, walked round the table and scooped her into his arms ‘—and that I have a limitless appetite for sex where you are concerned.’

  ‘Alessio—’ Breathless, she wrapped her arms round his neck, but he was already striding back into the bedroom and she gave a low moan as his mouth came down on hers.

  Alessio lay staring up at the ceiling, his arms locked around Lindsay’s sleeping form. Her body was pressed against his, her head nestled in his shoulder and her silken hair tumbling over his chest.

  He hadn’t thought about his mother for years—hadn’t allowed himself to go there.

  And before today, he’d never discussed his childhood with another person. He’d never revealed intimate secrets to another person.

  And yet, for some reason, he’d told Lindsay Lockheart. Lindsay, with her deeply ingrained sense of responsibility and her unshakeable belief in the existence of love.

  And what had that confession achieved?

  It had left him feeling naked and bare, and it had left her feeling as though their relationship had turned a corner.

  And it had, he thought grimly. Just not in the direction she was expecting.

  As far as he was concerned, it was time to make an exit.

  His mounting tension must have transmitted itself to her because she stirred, her thigh sliding against his as she shifted slightly in the bed.

  Lifting her head, she looked at him, her eyes sleepy. Then she lifted a hand and touched his face. ‘I love you,’ she murmured and he felt every muscle in his body tense.

  ‘I know you do.’

  And he felt a stab of guilt because he knew he should never have let it get this far. A woman like Lindsay, who believed in relationships, who believed in marriage—he should have avoided her like the plague.

  ‘It’s late,’ he said in a cool tone, extracting himself from the affectionate circle of her arms and springing from the bed like a tiger who had spotted a trap. ‘I need to have another meeting with my client. Why don’t you have a bath or something? Relax.’

  Her blue eyes went from sleepy, to wary, to hurt and she slowly pulled the sheet up over her body, covering herself. ‘Fine. I’ll do that.’

  Her quiet dignity dug into his conscience like a thousand knives and he turned and strolled into his dressing room, anxious to escape. But the guilt followed him and he gritted his teeth and cursed himself for breaking his one unbreakable rule. Never confide in a woman. Never make it personal.

  And what had he done?

  He’d made it personal.

  And now he was paying the price.

  Lindsay slipped into the navy skirt, pulling a face as she zipped it up and realised just how hot and uncomfortable she was going to be in such an unsuitable piece of clothing.

  A few days ago this outfit had seemed perfectly comfortable. It had suited the way she felt. The way she approached life.

  Now it just felt—well, wrong.

  But what choice did she have?

  Once again, her tiny overnight bag was in the centre of the floor and when Natalya appeared in the doorway, she looked surprised to find Lindsay packed and ready.

  ‘Oh—I came to tell you that you have an hour to pack because Signor Capelli is flying back to Rome this afternoon. But clearly someone has already given you the message.’

  Oh yes, someone had given her the message.

  He’d given her the message loud and clear.

  And she’d been blaming herself ever since because it was all her fault. What had possessed her to think he might like to talk to her about his past? What arrogance had made her think that she could be different?

  And what had possessed her to tell him that she loved him?

  The moment she’d said those words, Alessio had removed himself from danger faster than a fighter pilot hitting the eject button on a doomed plane.

  ‘Thanks, Natalya.’ She managed a smile. ‘I’ll be at the jetty in an hour.’

  An hour.

  Alessio Capelli didn’t hang around, did he?

  But what had she expected?

  She’d said, ‘I love you.’ Half asleep and softened by the intimacies they’d shared, she’d said, ‘I love you.’ And from that point she’d watched their relationship unravel with supersonic speed and hideous inevitability, like dropping a ball of wool from the top of the Empire State building.

  And that was what happened when you indulged in a wild, crazy affair with no future.

  That was what happened when you let physical chemistry dictate choices.

  It would have been very easy to wish she hadn’t delved into his background, or said those three little words—but she knew that it wouldn’t have changed anything. The ending had always been coming.

  And she would have done the whole thing again.

  She’d made that choice.

  Lindsay relaxed in the soft leather seat, pretending to be absorbed in the file on her lap. To add authenticity to the pretence, she occasionally scribbled something in the margin. But she was scribbling nonsense and her mind wasn’t on the contents of the file—it was on the man seated opposite her.

  Gone was the sexy lover. Alessio Capelli was once more the ruthless divorce lawyer. Since boarding his private jet, he’d been on the telephone, speaking in rapid Italian to a non-stop stream of people who were clearly desperate for his advice.

  After one such call he glanced up at her, his handsome face blank of expression. ‘There’s a message on my phone from Dino. It seems that he and your sister are back in Rome.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’

  ‘He says they’re engaged.’

  Lindsay wondered why she felt so numb. ‘I’m so pleased for them.’

  ‘Pleased?’ His dark brows locked in a dangerous frown. ‘How can you be pleased? I would have thought it was the last thing you wanted for her.’

  ‘One thing you taught me was that you can’t live someone else’s life for them,’ she murmured, turning her head and looking out of the window. He’d taught her other things too, things she was never going to forget. Like the fact that sometimes the right choice wasn’t obvious. ‘I hope they’ll be happy.’

  ‘They’ll probably drive each other up the wall.’ He gave a faint smile. ‘And I suppose you’ll end up counselling them.’

  ‘And if I fail, you’ll end up doing their divorce.’

  ‘Stay with me in Rome.’ His blunt command was so unexpected that for a moment she simply stared at him.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘This doesn’t have to be over, Lindsay.’

  His words were so unexpected that for a moment she didn’t breathe.

  He
was offering her more.

  He wanted to extend their relationship into the future. Sexually, intellectually they would be good together—

  Willing to agree to anything that would give them a little more time together, Lindsay opened her mouth to say yes. But she couldn’t do it.

  How could she say yes, knowing that he didn’t feel anything for her? For him, it was all about the sex and she knew that marriages based on sex didn’t last.

  She wasn’t like her mother. For her, the price was too high.

  ‘You’re offering me that coveted position as your mistress?’ Somehow, she managed to make a joke of it. ‘Well, I can certainly see some advantages. For a start I’d be given that phone number. At least I’d be able to contact you when I wanted to without having to doorstep you in your office.’

  ‘So is that a yes?’

  She blinked several times, frustrated that tears should threaten now. ‘No, Alessio, it isn’t a yes. How can it be a yes?’

  ‘Because it’s what you want.’

  ‘No,’ Lindsay said quietly. ‘It isn’t. I don’t want a relationship that’s based on sex. This morning I slipped and said “I love you” and that’s something that you just don’t want to hear.’

  ‘You’re probably more comfortable with those words than I am. I expect you heard “I love you” when you were growing up,’ he said gruffly. ‘I didn’t.’

  Lindsay was silent for a moment. ‘Let me tell you the truth about my parents’ relationship.’ She took a deep breath and plunged. ‘They weren’t happily married at all. In fact, I don’t have a single memory that involves them being happy. I didn’t hear “I love you”. They shared a powerful chemistry and very little else.’ She gave a painful smile. ‘That chemistry seemed to stop them from acting sensibly. They’d separate and then get back together and then separate again—they couldn’t stop having sex, but they couldn’t bear each other’s company outside the bedroom.’ She broke off and glanced at him, but his handsome face was expressionless as he listened.

  ‘Go on.’

  She shrugged. ‘Even at the age of seven I used to think to myself, “Why don’t the two of you try talking to each other?” But they just never did. It was hideous. For five minutes it would be delirious happiness because Daddy was home—then they’d vanish to the bedroom and a few hours later the rows would start again.’