And now he had a lot of making up to do. He was fully aware that it was going to be a long, hard slog and that he mustn’t go too quickly—even if at times like this she actually seemed to welcome his advances. It was pure sex, she’d said, and although he didn’t want to believe her he sometimes felt that she was right. And this was one of those occasions.
With reluctance he drew away. He stepped back a pace and felt virtuous that she looked surprised and a teeny bit disappointed. No, hugely disappointed. She was totally aroused, he could tell by her flushed cheeks and shining eyes, and if he had pushed his luck he could have taken her to bed. Which he wanted to! Very much so! His testosterone levels had risen to danger point. But it was good that he had stopped. It would show her that sex wasn’t the only thing he wanted from their relationship.
‘I think we ought to finish our dinner,’ he said gruffly.
‘I’m not hungry.’
Nor was he—except for this woman, his wife. He clamped his lips and nodded, only the slightest movement of his head. Megan didn’t even notice. But that was what she was, his wife. She belonged to him. She could run but he would never divorce her. One day they would be a happy and contented couple again. With perhaps another child to keep Charlotte company. It was only a matter of time.
Megan went to bed with a heavy heart. Luigi was doing his best and she appreciated that, but in her eyes it wasn’t good enough. And letting him make love to her was no answer either; it distorted her judgement, it reminded her of all that had been good in their marriage. It made her forget the long hours of neglect. So, although she had felt bereft when he backed away, she was now glad of it, and determined not to let herself be swayed into such a position again. Easy to say but difficult to do! Even the thought of kissing Luigi had her aching inside and she wasn’t sure that she could be strong enough to deny him.
But she would give it a good try. Luigi needed to reform; he needed to put his wife and daughter before his business interests. And when he did that—then perhaps their marriage would stand a chance.
His idea of taking her away for a few days was a sound one in principle. In fact it would be heaven—if it weren’t for Charlotte, and the fact that Megan knew unequivocally that once they were back he would revert to his old ways. Who was it who said that a leopard never changed its spots? Luigi would never change. Working was his way of life; his wife and now his child came second. They always would.
She was almost asleep when her door slowly opened. At first she thought she was dreaming when she saw Luigi’s shadowy shape in the doorway, but as he began to make his way softly over to her bed she sat bolt upright. Her heart stampeded as her need for him rose like a phoenix from the ashes.
But fear overrode her desire. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Her voice was low but shrill and there was panic inside her. He was a danger to her system—and he probably knew it. He knew that relaxed in bed she would be at her lowest ebb, and it would be easy to take advantage.
‘There’s something I need to ask you.’ He came to a halt at her side and looked fiercely down. And Megan didn’t see desire, she didn’t see a deep-seated need of her body, instead she saw something that sent a chill through her entire system.
Chapter 7
‘I’ve just discovered that you haven’t been entirely truthful with me,’ Luigi spat.
Megan frowned. ‘What do you mean?’ She had no idea what he was talking about. And she’d never seen him look at her so coldly or accusingly. It set her teeth on edge and made goose-bumps rise all over her body.
‘The fact that you indulged in an affair with another man and lied to me about it,’ he shot at her harshly.
‘What?’ she shrieked, jumping up from the bed. ‘You’re not making sense. Who, for pity’s sake, am I supposed to have slept with?’ She dragged her dressing gown on over her nightie and hugged it closely around her. ‘Where did you conjure up that piece of fiction?’
‘Straight from the horse’s mouth, if you must know,’ he thundered.
Megan shook her head. ‘This is nonsense.’
‘I knew you’d say that,’ he scorned. ‘I was expecting it.’
‘So why don’t you tell me who’s made these accusations?’ she asked him coldly, an icy shiver beginning to take over. It was all she could do to keep herself still.
‘Your dear friend, Jake.’
‘Jake?’ Megan echoed dazedly. ‘You have to be joking. In any case, when did you speak to him? Jenny hasn’t rung to say they’re back.’
‘They are, I assure you. I phoned them myself.’
‘Why?’ she questioned loudly.
‘I needed to make sure she wasn’t out of pocket with you moving out so suddenly.’
‘And you spoke to Jake, and he told you that he and I had had an affair, is that what you’re saying?’ Megan couldn’t comprehend. Why would Jake make such a statement when it wasn’t true?
‘He hinted that you’d been friends before Jenny came on the scene, and the emphasis he put on the word “friends” made me realise what he was trying to tell me.’
‘So he didn’t put it in as many words?’
‘He didn’t need to. I got the message.’
It was true; she had known Jake before Jenny did. She had worked with him when she first came to London, and he’d sort of taken her under his wing. But she hadn’t had any kind of relationship with him, even though he would have liked to. She hadn’t felt ready to commit to any man. One day he’d gone back to the flat with her to borrow a book and she’d been delighted when he and Jenny struck up a close friendship.
‘Why should it bother you that I might have seen other men during our separation?’ she asked him coolly, at the same time thinking that this could work in her favour. Luigi had had other girls, she knew, but he seemed incensed when it came to her doing the same. This could be a way to keep him at a distance.
‘Because you’re my woman,’ he snarled, practically bouncing on his feet. His dark eyes glittered in the light from the bedside lamp, and his face was angular and savage—and gorgeously handsome.
Megan shook the thought away. Luigi was her number one enemy. She must remember that. She must never see him as an expert lover, as a man who could melt her bones by a mere glance or a touch. He had never treated her fairly, not once in all the years of their marriage. He was self-centred and egotistical. She dismissed the fact that he was an excellent provider and an expert businessman. It was the unadulterated love of a good man that she desired. And love wasn’t high on Luigi’s list of priorities. In fact she doubted it even existed.
‘I am not your woman,’ she told him tersely. ‘You gave up all rights to me when you chose work over your marriage.’
‘I did it for us!’ he exclaimed loudly.
‘So you keep saying. But it wasn’t what I wanted.’
‘And did Jake Whatever-his-name-is give you what you wanted?’ he demanded fiercely.
‘That’s my business.’ She saw the angry glitter harden in his eyes and his body swayed dangerously towards her. But she stood her ground, her eyes fierce in their determination, even though there was a part of her that couldn’t dismiss the sensations playing on her nerve-ends—excitement and hatred bundled into one.
‘And I think it’s my business now to remind you, in a very personal way, that I don’t want any other man to touch you ever again.’ They were so close that Megan could feel his breath on her face, feel the warmth of his body, and she could even smell the male sexiness that had at one time driven her insane. ‘You are my woman,’ he continued grimly. ‘You can deny it all you like, but you belong to me for the rest of your life.’
If that wasn’t a warning she didn’t know what was. For the rest of her life! In her present frame of mind it sounded like a death sentence and she wanted to lash out, to pound her fists on his hard, muscular chest, to kick his shins, to let him know in no uncertain terms that he was mistaken.
But she was afraid to make too much noise in case she w
oke Charlotte. So she maintained a reasonable decorum. ‘Carry on like that and I really will divorce you,’ she said quietly. ‘Marriages aren’t built on threats, nor on absentee husbands. And if you can’t live with the fact that you believe I’ve had an affair with Jake then I’ll willingly move out.’
‘No!’
The boom of his voice sent her eyes fluttering towards Charlotte’s door, fortunately closed. Sometimes she left it open, but tonight she’d been reading and was afraid the light might waken her daughter. She thanked her lucky stars now for her foresight.
‘I’ve told you, I will never let you go.’
‘Unless you change your ways you won’t be able to hold me,’ she declared vehemently. ‘Threats won’t work.’
‘I’ll threaten you all I like,’ he snarled, ‘since you don’t seem to be prepared to even meet me halfway.’
‘Meet you, when you are the one laying down the rules?’ she questioned heatedly. ‘You are the one who insisted I stay here. You are the one who insisted on employing a nanny for Charlotte. You are the one who’s insisting we go away for a few days. My opinion has never counted.’
‘Because I know what’s good for you.’
Megan’s anger boiled over. ‘There you go again. When are you going to get it through your thick skull that a happy marriage means give and take? All you do is take, and I’m heartily fed up with it. Change that attitude and we might get somewhere.’
She watched as his mouth folded into a grim line and his eyes narrowed until she could see nothing through the slits of his lids. A quiver of unease tracked its way through her limbs. It looked as though she’d gone too far. Yet he deserved it. Why shouldn’t she toss him a few home truths?
‘I’d appreciate it if you’d meet me halfway, Megan.’
It was not the response she’d expected and although it was delivered in hard, terse tones she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt. She dismissed it immediately. Guilt had no place to play in this scenario. Not on her part anyway. Luigi was the one at fault—every inch of the way.
She had thought that meeting his daughter would soften him up, but that hadn’t happened. He was no nearer to being a caring husband or father than he had been all those years ago. He was in charge and he expected everyone to jump at his command. Well, not this girl!
‘Why should I?’ she asked with a toss of her head. ‘Why should I subject my daughter to a tyrant of a father?’
‘Tyrant?’ he exploded. ‘Is that how you see me?’
‘All the time.’
He closed his eyes and his fingers curled into tight fists, and Megan had the feeling that it was taking all his self-control not to lash out at her. She was tired of this confrontation. She wanted him to go. He had come here ready for a fight and because she hadn’t caved in and eaten humble pie he was still spoiling for one.
She wouldn’t give him that pleasure.
‘Fortunately Charlotte doesn’t see it that way,’ she added. ‘Perhaps because she hasn’t been here long enough and you’re on your best behaviour in front of her.’
Luigi snorted derisively. ‘You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re blinded by hatred. In fact you’re the one with the problem. If you’d jump down off your high horse occasionally you’d see how much I’ve changed.’
Megan gave a tight, brittle laugh. ‘Then I must be blind. Have we finished this conversation? I really would like to get some sleep.’ Not that she expected to drop off now. She was far too uptight.
‘Maybe it is finished, but not satisfactorily,’ he barked, swinging on his heel and heading for the door.
‘You mean that it hurt when I didn’t deny having a fling with Jake?’ she taunted. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. I’m not worrying about the girls you bedded while I was busy bringing up your daughter. We were free agents at the time. Why drag up the past?’
Again his mouth thinned but to give him his due he didn’t retaliate; he simply wrenched open the door and stepped smartly outside. She half-expected him to slam it, was thankful when he didn’t. She didn’t want Charlotte or even Kate wondering why he was storming out of her room.
The thought occurred to her that Kate might not know they slept in separate rooms. Had Luigi told her anything about their circumstances, or did she think they were a normal happily married couple? It could be embarrassing if she ever came in to see to Charlotte and saw that Megan slept alone. Luigi had been spitting fire when he sought Megan out. He had phoned her friend on the spur of the moment, not really knowing whether she was back from France. Jake had answered. And when Luigi stated his business he had gone into a long tribute to Megan. So much so that Luigi had begun to gain the impression that more had gone on between them than Megan had ever admitted. He’d felt an indescribable jealousy. The very thought of another man touching his wife was sickeningly abhorrent and he’d been prepared to shake the truth out of Megan.
And now when he thought back on their conversation he realised that he hadn’t won at all. Megan was tougher than he’d realised and she had fought back with admirable qualities. He still didn’t know whether she’d actually slept with Jake and the thought drove him crazy.
So much so that he couldn’t sleep. In the end he dragged on a tartan dressing gown over his boxer shorts, went downstairs to his den and sat at his computer. There was work that needed to be done but, dammit, he couldn’t do that either. He kept seeing images of a fired-up Megan as she stood before him.
How he had fought the urge to pull her hard against him he didn’t know. He’d wanted to forget everything Jake had told him and make love to her. With her hair tousled and her face flushed, and nothing on beneath her cotton nightdress, his virulent male hormones had sprung into life. He loved Megan so much that it tore him apart when she rejected him. Was he really as bad as she painted?
It was true that no one ever saw themselves as other people did, but a tyrant? Always taking, never giving? He wasn’t like that. The presents he’d bought both her and Charlotte should have proved it. And she had this huge house to live in, no more worries about rent. He was prepared to give her anything she wanted. He’d even cut down on his working hours; hadn’t she noticed that?
The more he thought about it the more confused he became. He picked up the whisky bottle and poured himself a generous measure, tossing it down his throat in one swallow before refilling it. This time he set it on the desk in front of him, fingering the cut-glass, twisting it absently round and round. But the more he thought about the situation the more he failed to understand it and fury rose once more inside him. He gulped down the rest of the whisky and in a fit of rage threw the glass at the fireplace, shattering it into a thousand tiny pieces.
The next moment his door was pushed open and there stood Megan, pale-faced and questioning, still in her nightdress and dressing gown. With nothing on underneath! This was the first thought that registered. The second was, what was she doing here? Why wasn’t she in bed? And his third, perhaps she’d had a change of heart, realised that she’d been too hard on him, and had come to make amends.
His entire body throbbed in anticipation.
Megan looked from him to the fragments of glass in the hearth and then back again, a faint frown dragging her brows together. ‘So you’re still angry about Jake?’
Damn! She wasn’t supposed to have said that. He felt his sudden hope draining away. ‘What are you doing here?’ he enquired gruffly.
‘I was on my way to the kitchen to heat some milk.’
‘Your conscience troubling you?’ he sneered. He couldn’t help himself. His optimism had been so miserably dashed.
‘Not as much as yours, obviously,’ she riposted, backing away from the doorway, ready to carry on her journey.
‘Wait!’ he said, though he didn’t know why. He wanted her company and yet he knew it would be volatile. But better that than nothing.
She looked boldly and questioningly in his direction. ‘For what? More of what you’ve just p
ut me through? No, thank you.’ And this time she walked away.
But Luigi wasn’t prepared to let her go. He couldn’t get through this night without her. ‘Megan, please.’
She faltered and stopped.
‘Come and talk to me.’
‘Why should I?’
‘It’s silly us both being wide awake. We may as well keep each other company.’
‘Not if you’re going to pick another fight.’ She half turned towards him but still looked prepared to flee.
He held up his hands. ‘Truce.’
‘How can I believe you? You already have me hung, drawn and quartered. Why should I escape more misery?’
‘Because I don’t feel like my own company at this moment.’ He was exposing his feelings in a way he never had before. He always liked to give the image that he was in complete control—which he usually was. It was only Megan who managed to instil doubt into him—doubt and despair.
‘You mean you might throw a few more glasses? Is it an image of me that you’re throwing them at or disgust with yourself?’
He winced, but refused to give her the pleasure of seeing how accurate her second guess was. ‘Perhaps it’s a bad idea. I wasn’t intending it to be a re-run of what happened upstairs. I simply thought we might both enjoy some company. But if it’s too much for you…’ He saw her hesitate, the doubt in her eyes, then the reluctant decision that he might be right.
‘Very well,’ she answered quietly, ‘but I’d still like some hot milk. How about you?’
On top of whisky! But if it helped keep her at his side…‘I’d like that, shall I—?’
‘Come and help? No thanks! I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
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