A Sicilian Husband - Kate Walker [65]
Until now.
Now she knew for certain. Wild and rash as her behaviour with Gio had been on that first night, it had not had any permanent consequences. She was not carrying Gio’s baby.
‘How would you feel if I said that I don’t want you to go? I want you to stay here?’
Gio’s words, whispered to her in the dark of the night, came back to haunt her, whirling round and round in her head, impossible to get a grip on.
How had he meant them? Had he really meant them at all?
She knew she didn’t dare to put any great reliance on anything that had been said in the heated intensity of the night they had just shared. Adrift on a sea of emotion and passion, she suspected that Gio could have said anything, his grip on his tongue lost completely.
But would he still keep to what he had said in the cold light of day?
Especially when he discovered that there was no baby. That the whole reason for her being here at all did not exist.
He would never have asked her to come to Sicily if he hadn’t feared she might be pregnant. And she had seen enough of him with Paolo to understand why. He was a wonderful father, loving, devoted, caring. And he would have been the same with any child they had created between them.
But did he care enough about her to want her without that child?
‘Teresa!’
Gio was calling to her, his voice coming up the stairs from the hallway below.
‘Are you coming down? I made coffee—again.’
The joke snagged on a raw spot on Terrie’s nerves, tugging painfully. She didn’t need any reminder of the fact that, once again, they had left their coffee made and poured but growing cold in the mugs as they lost themselves in the inferno of passion that had reached out to swallow them up. She knew already, better than anyone, just how her desire for Gio, the hunger that he could awaken with just a touch, a kiss, a look, could sweep anything and everything else from her mind and leave her incapable of any rational thought.
And it had the same effect on Gio.
So there was no way she could trust the words he had whispered to her. Not until he repeated them to her in totally different circumstances. And when she had told him her news about the baby.
‘Teresa!’
‘Yes! I’m coming!’
She was already dressed in a pale blue sundress, her hair freshly washed and drying naturally in the warmth of the morning, so she had no excuse to prevaricate any longer. And the note of impatience in Gio’s voice told her that if she didn’t go down to him then he would come up here to find her.
Gio felt a rush of relief when he finally heard Terrie’s footsteps on the stairs and knew she was on her way down at last. She had spent so long delaying upstairs that he had begun to wonder if something was wrong. If there was some reason that she didn’t want to face him.
While he couldn’t wait to see her. Last night had been a major turning point for him. He hadn’t slept so well in a very long time—two years, in fact—and he had woken clear-headed and alert, ready to look at the future in a whole new light.
‘Come on, it’s getting cold!’
The ring of the doorbell sounded through his shout and with a muttered curse he dumped his own coffee mug down on the table and went to answer it.
Terrie was just reaching the bottom step as he passed in the hall.
‘Hi!’
His greeting, like his wave, was swift and offhand. All he was interested in was getting to the door, dealing with whoever was there, and sending them on their way again. He wanted no interruptions, no one else intruding on his plans for Teresa and today. ‘Breakfast’s in the kitchen. I’ll be with you in a minute.’
As he opened the door the sun streamed into the hall, blinding him for a moment, so that he had to blink hard before he could make out the small, stout black-haired woman who stood outside. But when he did, his heart sank.
‘Rosa…buon giorno…’
Of all the times for Lucia’s mother to decide to pay one of her infrequent visits, this had to be the worst she could choose. They had never got on well together, even when her daughter