LITMIR.BIZ

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death.’ There was a smile in his voice. ‘Do you want me to prove that you’re still very much alive?’

      She looked at him demurely from under her lashes. ‘You think you could?’

      ‘Not at this moment, perhaps.’ He grinned at her lazily. ‘But soon.’

      She was silent for a moment. ‘Rome—is it—always like that?’

      ‘It was like it for us,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that all that matters?’

      ‘Yes.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘For what?’

      ‘For the lessons—all of them.’ She forced a smile. ‘I think I’ve just undergone a crash course. And I’ll always be grateful.’

      He propped himself on an elbow and looked down at her. He said slowly, ‘What we had just now was beautiful, and sensational, and totally mutual—as you must know. So gratitude doesn’t enter into it.’

      She played with the embroidered edge of the sheet. ‘But it’s not the same for you. It can’t be. You can’t possibly pretend it was your first time…’

      He took her hand and carried it to his lips. He said, ‘It was my first time with you, Cory. And you blew my mind. And if you’ve got it into your head that I made love to you out of sympathy, I have to tell you I’m not that altruistic.’

      She said, not looking at him, ‘Would you have made love to me if I hadn’t told you about Rob?’

      ‘You hadn’t told me about Rob when we walked home from Alessandro’s—and I could barely keep my hands off you.’ His voice was cool and considering. ‘Nor at Blundham House this afternoon. We went up in flames together, Cory, and you know it. We could fight it as much as we liked, but it was really only a matter of time before we ended up in bed with each other.’

      He paused. ‘But, in the interests of frankness, I’ll admit I wanted to make it good for you so that it would drive that poisonous bastard out of your mind, once and for all.’ He framed her face with his hands, speaking very distinctly. ‘He can’t damage you any more, carissima, do you understand? He’s gone—finished with—so forget him.’

      He dropped a kiss on her nose. ‘Are you hungry?’

      A gurgle of laughter welled up inside her. She said, ‘That’s quite a change of subject.’

      ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘Because I no longer have to fight to keep my hands off you, and the time is fast approaching when it won’t be enough for me to simply look at you and talk to you.’

      He kissed her mouth softly and sensuously.

      ‘We have a long night ahead of us, mia bella,’ he whispered, ‘and we need to keep our strength up. So—I’ll ask you again—are you hungry?’

      And, to her own astonishment, she was.

      Rome ordered smoked salmon sandwiches and champagne from Room Service, and she ate and drank, propped up on pillows in the crook of his arm, and knew she had never felt so happy or so much at peace.

      The awkward girl, she told herself, had given way to a woman with her own sexual power.

      And then, like a frost to blacken her mood, came another thought.

      How in the world, she asked herself with anguish, was she ever going to live without him?

      He said, ‘You’re very quiet.’

      Cory started slightly, banishing the unhappy reverie that she’d conjured up some five minutes before. She said lightly, ‘Just conserving my energy.’

      Rome took her chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted her face so he could look into her eyes. ‘Truly?’

      ‘Of course,’ she lied. ‘Try me.’

      His face was solemn, but his eyes were dancing. ‘Mia cara, I thought you would never ask. Just let me get rid of these plates.’

      When he came back, his expression was oddly brooding, as if he too had been having unpleasant thoughts.

      She said, ‘Is something wrong?’

      ‘I hope not.’ He sat on the edge of the bed, studying her. ‘But I don’t know.’ He was silent for a moment, then said abruptly, ‘Cory, mia—are you on the Pill?’

      ‘The Pill,’ she repeated wonderingly, then grasped the implication. ‘Oh.’ She swallowed. ‘No—no, I’m not. I—I never have been.’

      ‘That,’ Rome said grimly, ‘is what I was afraid of.’ He shook his head. ‘Dear God, how stupid—how irresponsible can I be?’

      She put a hand out to him. ‘It’s not your fault. I’m just as much to blame. I wasn’t thinking…’

      ‘Nor was I,’ he said. ‘But I should have been.’ His tone was bitter with self-reproach. ‘I should have taken care of you.’

      She watched him in silence for a few moments. She said, her voice quiet, ‘Would it matter so much—if it happened? If I was—pregnant?’

      He said roughly, ‘Cory—you’re not a child. You know it would.’

      She’d hoped for comfort, and instead there was pain. He was telling her, she realised, that they had no future together. That sex, however wonderful, was not enough to make a lasting relationship—and a baby would just be an unwanted, indeed an impossible complication.

      And you, she thought, are all kinds of a fool to have hoped for anything different.

      She found herself praying that she hadn’t given herself away too seriously, and wondering, at the same time, what she could do to retrieve the situation.

      One thing she was sure of. If this was all she was to have of Rome, then she would make it memorable—for both of them.

      She lay back against the pillows and smiled at him composedly. She said, ‘If the horse is gone, there’s little point in worrying about the stable door—is there? So why don’t we do as we planned and—enjoy the rest of the night?’

      He groaned. ‘Carissima—be sensible.’

      She said softly, ‘Oh, it’s much too late for that.’ She let the sheet fall away from her breasts. She heard the small sound he made in his throat, and her smile deepened. ‘Besides—I’m getting impatient…’

      Hours—perhaps aeons—later, she lay beside him as the early-morning light began to penetrate the room and watched him sleep. His breathing was deep and peaceful, his skin dark against the white bedlinen.

      He deserved his rest, she thought, colour warming her face as she remembered how one act of love had seemed to flow naturally into the next. As she recalled the things he’d said to her—the things he’d done.

      Their bodies had moved together with such harmony, she thought. There’d been laughter too, and, once, tears.

      And now it was over.

      Moving carefully, she slid out of bed, collected her clothing and went to the bathroom.

      She looked in on him again before she left. He was still sleeping, but he’d moved into the space she’d vacated as if unconsciously seeking her.

      The porter was not on duty when she went down to the foyer, but there was a friendly girl at the reception desk, who told Cory the nearest station with a direct link to London, looked up the time of the next train, and ordered her a taxi to take her there.

      ‘There’s no need to disturb my husband,’ Cory said calmly. ‘He’s planning to spend the day locally—do some walking. But unfortunately I have to get back.’

      ‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ the other woman sympathised. ‘Particularly as it looks like being a nice day. I hope you’ll stay with us again some time.’

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