The Italian's Love-Child. Emma DarcyЧитать онлайн книгу.
The physical pleasure she knew he would give could not be allowed to cloud her mind again. ‘I want you to get dressed and go, Luc.’
‘Let me answer your needs, Skye,’ he promised temptingly.
‘You can’t answer all of them,’ she retorted. ‘And please do as I ask. This wasn’t in our agreement. If you have any integrity at all…’
He moved, swinging his legs off the bed. Fear of him coming at her choked off any further speech and drove her into instant recoil. She shrank back against the doorjamb, hugging herself even more tightly.
Luc sat on the edge of the bed, absolutely still, frowning at her. Every nerve in her body screeched with tension as she waited for his next action. The silence was electric with barely contained emotions and challenges she was too frightened to acknowledge, yet the strong sense of them pinned her to the wall, draining her of any further initiative.
‘Integrity…’ The word fell from his lips, heavy with guilt and regret. ‘I lost faith in yours so you have no belief in mine.’ He lifted deeply pained eyes, probing her soul with searing intensity. ‘Did it ever occur to you that I cared too much about integrity, Skye? That seeing you…in bed with my brother…was such a killing blow…’
‘I was never in bed with your brother!’
‘Goddammit!’ He rose to his feet, towering up to his full height, pumping out waves of violent energy as he hurled out his truth. ‘It wasn’t just the photos! You were charmed with Roberto’s wit and you didn’t stop him from flirting with you. Every time the three of us were together, Roberto would claim your attention and you gave it to him. Willingly!’
‘He was nice to me, Luc. Your parents looked at me as though I was trash, treated me with icy politeness. Why wouldn’t I warm to your brother?’ she flung back at him.
‘Warm…’ His hands lifted, fingers outstretched like upturned talons, left empty and frustrated because what he’d wanted to hold on to had been ripped away. ‘Where does warmth turn into heat? Roberto swore it was so…swore I was making a fool of myself for loving you…and there were the photos to prove it, to prove there was no integrity in your love for me…’
‘It wasn’t true,’ Skye cried, deeply agitated by the pain pouring from him and the artful lies that had been woven around her behaviour.
‘He was my brother! We’d shared all our lives together! Why would he confess to such a divisive and destructive truth if it wasn’t the truth?’
A killing blow…she could see it now, feel how it was for him.
‘You were the light of my life and he tore it out of me and left me in darkness. A darkness so black I couldn’t see you any more. Not the person you were.’ His hands dropped in a helpless fashion as the raw anguish on his face fell into a terrible bleakness. ‘All in the name of integrity…which he sacrificed…to please my father.’
He shook his head and slowly bent down to pick up his clothes as though there was nothing left to do and there was certainly no joy to be had from any more exposure. On any level.
A poignant sense of loss permeated the sudden silence and Skye’s heart felt as though it was being wrung by merciless hands. The hurt was too great—his hurt and hers—what had been done to both of them! Her mind was a chaos of confusion. Was it wrong of her to keep blaming him for turning traitor to their love when he had suffered the devastation of a double treachery? The woman he loved…the brother he loved…
‘Don’t be frightened of me, Skye,’ he said softly, looking at her with an expression of rueful appeal. He was putting on his shirt, doing up the buttons. ‘This time around… it’s not about taking from you. It’s about giving.’
She couldn’t bring herself to speak. She wasn’t so sure of her ground any more. All she could think of was how much she had loved this man and maybe she could love him again if…but weren’t there too many ifs? And Matt was in the middle of them. Her precious son whom she had to protect against the Peretti family. She mustn’t forget Matt, just because Luc could still get to her, twisting her around, making her feel…
Watching him pull on his underpants and jeans, everything within her quivered, not from fear but from the freshly awakened sexual memory of how it had been with him…the intimacy they’d shared on the very bed she had to sleep in tonight. Alone…as she’d been alone all these years. She had Matt but a child’s love—her love for him—was different. Being a mother did not fulfil everything she wanted as a woman.
Luc tucked his shirt in, did up his zipper, shot her a look that mocked the security she’d wanted from him being clothed again. ‘It won’t go away—the chemistry between us, Skye. No matter what you’re telling yourself, it will still be there next week, next month, next year, and all the years to follow.’
The relentless beat of his prediction struck chords of truth that twanged through her entire body. Her mind could produce no answer to it. She simply stared back at him, silently demanding the distance she needed right now, telling herself not to concede anything more at this point.
He sat on the bed to put on his socks and Reeboks, doing it with commendable alacrity, not dragging out his time with her. He stood up and she stiffened her backbone, determined on an air of self-containment as he walked over to the doorway, emanating a dynamic energy that would not acknowledge defeat.
He paused beside her, his dark brilliant eyes engaging hers in an intense battle of wills. ‘I can’t give you back the years that were taken from us but we can make a future together,’ he said quietly.
They had to…around Matt. But she now knew Luc was intent on pushing for more, and even as she thought it, he laid it out to her again.
‘I doubt any marriage is perfect, but I promise you this. I’ll work damned hard at making it as good as I can for you. Think about it, Skye. I’ll be back next Saturday…as agreed.’
He walked on into the hallway. She heard the front door click open, then shut behind him.
Gone.
Air whooshed out of her lungs on a huge sigh of relief. She sagged against the wall, staring at the bed where she had wantonly surrendered her independence. Was it possible to claw it back? Did she want to? Did she have to?
She needed to know the answers before Luc came again.
Next Saturday.
As agreed.
Because he was Matt’s father.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘DADDY’S here!’ Matt yelled from the front porch. ‘And he’s come in his red car!’
The Ferrari! The excitement in her son’s voice shot Skye out of dallying in the kitchen. He’d been outside, waiting and watching for his father in a fever of impatience, and the double attraction of the Ferrari spelled danger! She raced down the hallway to the opened front door in time to see Matt unlatching the gate and Luc emerging from his car on the other side of the street.
‘Don’t run onto the road, Matt!’ she called.
It alerted Luc, who instantly spotted him and held up a hand. ‘Wait on the sidewalk.’ Commanding authority.
Matt obeyed, but he literally jiggled with pleasure as Luc strode across the road towards him, smiling his own pleasure in this obvious welcome from his son. He swooped down, picked him up and hoisted him up against his shoulder, laughing as Matt laughed—the sound of mutual happiness. ‘So how did it go at soccer training?’ he asked.
And Matt bubbled over with news of the two after-school sessions he’d attended during the week. No shyness. A quick and easy rapport with his father, plus unadulterated delight in his interest and company.
Which put a little hollow in Skye’s heart. It was hard, realising she couldn’t supply all her son’s needs. Not even years of loving him, doing everything she could for him,