The Platinum Collection. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
off for work wearing sensible clothing and driving her opulent new car with her dogs confined behind a special screen in the boot area, she was conscious that, no matter how she looked at it, Cesario’s response to the news of their baby had still fallen very far short of her fondest hopes.
Jess was convinced that Cesario had not been pleased. Something had altered since their marriage. Had he changed his mind about having a child with her? Admittedly she had conceived more easily and quickly than either of them had expected and he had been unprepared for her announcement. But could that simple fact have caused him to have second thoughts about fatherhood? She kept on picturing his expression at the instant she had given him her news. He had looked bleak, disturbed…guilty? Her brow furrowed. From where had she received the impression that he felt guilty? That had to be her imagination because why on earth would he feel guilty about her having fallen pregnant just as he had planned?
Over the next four days Jess was exceptionally busy both at work and at the sanctuary. She received an influx of unwanted dogs from the council dog pound. People often surrendered pets because they weren’t allowed to keep them in rental accommodation and, these days, more and more because they couldn’t afford to feed them or cover veterinary care. Cesario rang her twice, brief, uninformative calls that might have come from an acquaintance rather than a husband. Jess tormented herself with recollections of the reality that theirs was not a real marriage and never had been and maybe only now was she seeing proper evidence of the fact. Possibly the passionate nature of their relationship had blurred the boundaries and confused them both, only Cesario did not appear confused any more, she acknowledged unhappily. Cesario now seemed to be putting more than physical distance between them because he was treating her with detached and impersonal formality. She felt as if she was losing him and it unnerved her, for intelligence warned her that she had never had a normal claim to him. He had never loved her and lust was not an advantage now that she was carrying his baby.
On the sixth day after his departure, the estate manager called up to the hall to ask her to get in touch with Cesario on his behalf as he was having trouble reaching him. Jess could not get an answer on Cesario’s mobile phone, which went automatically to his messaging service, and finally she rang his head office in London, only to be told by his PA that he had taken a few days off and would not be back at work until the start of the following week.
‘Is he still in Milan?’ Jess pressed.
‘Mr di Silvestri is in London, signora,’ the woman responded in audible surprise. ‘I’ll let him know that you want to speak to him.’
Jess was shaken. Cesario had allowed her to believe that he was in Italy when he was actually in London? Her heart sank at that awareness because she could not think of an innocent explanation for such behaviour on his part.
‘There’s no need for you to contact Cesario now. I’ll see my husband before he receives any message you could give him.’ Frowning, Jess replaced the receiver and then she used her mobile to try and contact Alice. The other woman’s phone also went straight to voice-mail and when she called the landline at Stefano and Alice’s Italian home she was told that Alice was visiting friends in England.
For the second time in the space of two weeks, Jess was eaten alive by cruel and wounding suspicions. Fear flung her mind wide open to the worst possibilities. Was Cesario having an affair with Alice? Were her husband and his former girlfriend together in London? The sheer gut-wrenching pain of that apprehension ripped through Jess and suddenly she could not bear not knowing the truth. Blinking back tears she couldn’t hold back, she decided that she would go to London immediately, visit Cesario’s apartment and confront whatever she found there head-on. Would she find him there with Alice? She had to know what was going on. How could she live otherwise? How could she even get out of bed tomorrow if she didn’t know whether or not their marriage was still alive?
Although Jess was aware that Cesario owned an apartment in London, she had not previously had a reason to visit it. She drove to the local station and caught the city-bound train, thinking it was ironic that she felt nauseous for the very first time during that journey. Her emotional state of mind seemed to be seeking a physical outlet. She took a taxi to an ultra-modern apartment building and travelled up in the lift, squinting at herself in the reflective steel walls, wondering if she could possibly be as pale and miserable as she looked.
Rigo Castello let her into the apartment and there was no sign of reluctance or discomfiture on his part, which warned Jess straight off that she was not about to surprise Cesario in flagrante delicto. Straightening her spine and throwing back her stiff shoulders, she told herself that she had every right to ask awkward questions of the father of her unborn child before she walked into the airy reception room with splendid views over the city.
Cesario was outside on the rooftop terrace, striding towards the sliding doors that were wide open at the far end of the room. His black hair was blowing back from his lean, darkly handsome face. Unusually he was not wearing a business suit, but jeans and a black T-shirt that enhanced the sculpted lines of his lean, muscular body. He did not seem surprised by her sudden appearance, a reality that led her to assume that his PA had given him prior knowledge of her phone call.
‘Jessica…’ he murmured, his rich accented drawl rather flat in tone and delivery, brilliant dark eyes shrewd and distinctly wary.
‘I guess the phrase, “Fancy seeing you here” really belongs to me!’ Jess quipped loudly, determined not to show her distress either through tears or temper. ‘After all, I was still under the impression that you were working eighteen hour days in Milan!’
Cesario surveyed her levelly. ‘I’m sorry that I lied to you—’
‘But why did you lie? That’s what I want to know.’
‘I don’t think you will want to know once I explain,’ Cesario countered. ‘And that’s the main reason why I kept you out of the situation.’
Refusing to engage with that baffling forecast and assurance, Jess snatched in a steadying breath and then asked bluntly, ‘Were you ever in Milan?’
‘No. I’ve been in London throughout the week.’
‘With Alice?’ she prompted jerkily.
Cesario regarded her with frowning force and a tangible air of bewilderment. ‘Why would Alice be here?’
‘I thought perhaps you were having an affair with her,’ Jess advanced rather reluctantly, because it was so patently obvious from his pained expression that sexual shenanigans with his cousin’s wife had played no part in his pretence about his whereabouts.
‘No,’ he proclaimed in blunt dissent. ‘You thought wrong.’
‘Maybe not with Alice, but possibly with someone else?’ Jess persisted, unable to quite let go of her suspicions regarding his fidelity.
‘Dio mio, sex with anyone other than you has to be the last thing on my mind right now,’ Cesario responded with an impatience that dispelled her concerns in that field better than any heated denial would have done.
‘Well, I don’t know what goes on in your mind, do I?’ In reaction to the sudden release of her tension, because the spectre of Alice and that past affair had loomed like a very large threat in her mind, Jess threw up her hands in an unusually dramatic gesture and stalked over to the window. Ebony curls danced on her slim shoulders as she swivelled back to look at him, her profile taut and pale. ‘You told me you were in Milan and you were lying!’ she reminded him fiercely.
‘I have to confess that since we met I have kept a lot from you, piccola mia,’ Cesario declared.
‘Stop hinting and start telling!’ Jess flung in direct challenge, angry grey eyes bright as silver stars above her flushed cheekbones.
‘I really thought we could do this without anyone getting hurt,’ Cesario breathed in a raw undertone. ‘But with hindsight I can see now that I was depressed when I asked you to marry me. I was looking for a way out and a means of distraction—’
‘Just