A Sicilian Husband - Kate Walker [27]
A second later, a hasty, instinctive rethink had her pulling the covers up too, covering her exposed shoulders and breasts. Still not entirely sure why, she only knew she felt too exposed, too vulnerable like that.
‘Wh-when are you coming back?’
‘Never.’ It was cold and flat and totally unyielding.
‘Never? But why? What have I done…?’
‘It’s not what you’ve done, Teresa. It’s what I didn’t do. Or, rather, what I didn’t say.’
‘I don’t understand.’
He was speaking in riddles, making her mind whirl in confusion. But all the same her blood ran cold simply at the sound of his words, her heart filling with dread at the prospect of what might be to come.
‘I never said there would be any tomorrow. Or any sort of future, come to that. I never promised you anything beyond one night. We had that night. Now it’s time to say goodbye.’
‘But…’
Terrie’s eyes would not focus and when she looked at his face it was just a blur. Blinking hard, she forced them back into clarity and immediately wished she hadn’t. She had seen more emotion on the carved stone face of the Sphinx, and her blood ran so cold in fear that she shivered in spite of the cosy quilt.
‘Goodbye?’ It was just a low, desolate murmur.
‘Goodbye.’
To her horror she realised that he had taken it as agreement. As if she was saying farewell to him.
And it seemed that that was exactly what he wanted. He was getting to his feet, reaching for his shoes, stamping his feet into them.
He truly hadn’t expected it to be quite that easy, Gio reflected thankfully. She must have known it was coming, but all the same he had anticipated some sort of protest, a touch of complaint at her swift dismissal. She had tried to cajole him back into bed at first, he recalled, thankful that the need to fasten his shoes meant he had to bend his head, so avoiding looking into her face, and hiding his own expression from her.
If she tried again he wasn’t totally sure he would be able to resist her. He hadn’t been prepared for how difficult it had been the first time. The struggle he had had with his most basic instincts not to toss off his clothes again, fling back the covers and join her once more in the indolent warmth of the big double bed. Even now, in spite of the fact that he couldn’t see her, his body was recalling the sensual delights of the night, hardening in nagging demand and yearning for a repeat indulgence. The clutch of hunger deep in his gut made his hands disturbingly unsteady on his laces.
The sooner he was out of here the better. All he had to do was to get out the door—close it between them…
‘No!’
The cry came unexpectedly, shocking him into stillness just as he caught up his jacket from the chair.
‘Che?’
‘I said no!’
Terrie didn’t know what had brought this on; what had made him suddenly so determined to leave. She only knew that she wasn’t going to stand by and let it happen.
Launching herself out of the bed, heedless now of her total nudity, she flung herself at Gio as he turned towards the door. His arm was beyond her reach, no matter how hard she stretched, but she did manage to catch hold of his trailing jacket, her fingers tangling in the fine material and clutching hard.
‘You’re not going anywhere!’
Her gasping protest, and the sudden catch on his jacket forced Gio to halt abruptly. Whirling round, he directed a furious glare into her uneasy face. One that shook her right to the roots of her soul and almost had her releasing her hold on the jacket again, fearful of possible retribution.
But a moment later she had collected herself, drawing in some sort of courage with the rough, unsteady breath that she struggled for.
‘You’re not going,’ she repeated stubbornly. ‘Not without some sort of explanation.’
If that glare had been terrible, then the look of pure contempt that raked her from the dishevelled, tangled cloud of blonde hair and down over every exposed and vulnerable inch of her naked body was even worse. It seemed to scour her sensitive skin, stripping away a