LITMIR.BIZ

       CHAPTER TEN

      SHE HAD TO say something. She had to. She couldn’t keep pretending nothing was wrong or that there weren’t still a million questions buzzing around in her head which needed answering.

      Keira turned her head to look at the face of the man who lay sleeping beside her. It was a very big bed, which was probably a good thing since Matteo Valenti’s naked body was taking up most of it. Morning light flooded in from the two windows they hadn’t bothered closing the shutters on before they’d tumbled into bed the night before. From here she could see the green of the landscape which spread far into the distance and, above it, the endless blue of the cloudless sky. It was the most perfect of mornings, following the most perfect of nights.

      She hugged her arms around herself and gave a wriggle of satisfaction. She’d never thought she could feel the way Matteo had made her feel. But the clock was ticking away and she needed to face reality. She couldn’t keep pretending everything was wonderful just because they’d spent an amazing night together. He’d said he wanted to explore the possibility of them becoming a couple but there was more to being a couple than amazing sex. How could they keep ignoring the gaping hole at the centre of their relationship which neither of them had addressed? He for reasons unknown and she...

      She turned her attention from the distraction of the view to the dark head which lay sleeping beside her. Was she too scared to ask him, was that it?

      Because the most important thing was all out of kilter and the longer it went on, the worse it seemed. Matteo acted as if Santino didn’t exist. As if he didn’t have a son. To her certain knowledge, he’d never even cuddled him—why, he’d barely even asked after him.

      It didn’t matter how many boxes the Italian ticked—she could never subject Santino to a life in which he was overlooked. And trying to compensate for his father’s lack of regard with her own fierce love wouldn’t work. She’d grown up in a house where she had been regarded as an imposition and no way was she going to impose that on her darling son.

      Which left her with two choices. She could carry on being an ostrich and ignore what was happening—or rather, what wasn’t happening. Or she could address the subject when Matteo woke and make him talk about it. She wouldn’t accuse him or judge him. Whatever he told her, she would try to understand—because something told her that was very important.

      Quietly, she slipped from the bed and went to the bathroom and when she returned with brushed teeth and hair, Matteo was awake—his black gaze following her as she walked back towards the bed.

      ‘Morning,’ she said shyly.

      ‘Is this the point where I ask whether you slept well and you lower your eyelids and say, not really?’ he murmured.

      Blushing like a schoolgirl, Keira slipped rapidly beneath the covers so that her naked body was no longer in the spotlight of that disturbingly erotic stare. It was all very well being uninhibited when the room was in darkness but the bright morning light was making her feel awfully vulnerable. Especially as she sensed that Matteo wasn’t going to like what she had to say, no matter how carefully she asked the question. He drew her into his arms but she gave him only the briefest of kisses before pulling her lips away. Because he needed to hear this, and the sooner, the better.

      ‘Matteo,’ she said, rubbing the tip of her finger over the shadowed angle of his jaw.

      His brows knitted together. ‘Why does my heart sink when you say my name that way?’ he questioned softly.

      She swallowed. ‘You know we have to go back to Umbria soon.’

      ‘You think I’d forgotten? Which is why I suggest we don’t waste any of the time we have left.’

      He had begun to stroke a light thumb over one of her nipples and although it puckered obediently beneath his touch, Keira pushed his hand away. ‘And we need to talk,’ she said firmly.

      ‘And that was why my heart sank,’ he drawled, shifting his body to lie against the bank of pillows and fixing her with a hooded look. ‘Why do women always want to talk instead of making love?’

      ‘Usually because something needs to be said.’ She pulled in a breath. ‘I want to tell you about when I was growing up.’

      The look on his face said it all. Wrong place; wrong time. ‘I met your aunt,’ he said impatiently. ‘Over-strict guardian, small house, jealous cousin. I get it. You didn’t have such a great time.’

      Keira shook her head as uncomfortable thoughts flooded into her mind. She needed to be completely honest, else how could she expect complete honesty in return? Yet what she was about to tell him wasn’t easy. She’d never told anyone the full story. Even her aunt. Especially her aunt. ‘I told you my mother wasn’t married and that I didn’t know my father. What I didn’t tell you was that she didn’t know him either.’

      His gaze was watchful now. ‘What are you talking about?’

      Keira flushed to the roots of her hair because she could remember her mother’s shame when she’d finally blurted out the story, no longer able to evade the curious questions of her young daughter. Would her mother be appalled if she knew that Keira was now repeating the sorry tale, to a man with a trace of steel running through his veins?

      ‘My mother was a student nurse,’ she said slowly, ‘who came to London and found it was nothing like the rural farm she’d grown up on in Ireland. She was quite shy and very naïve but she had those Irish looks. You know, black hair and blue eyes—’

      ‘Like

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