Love Islands…The Collection. Jane Porter

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And so into it.

      ‘I feel like this when I’m running.’ She glanced up at the sails.

      ‘Like what?’

      ‘Free. Powerful.’

      And she didn’t feel like that the rest of the time? She should. She was amazingly powerful.

      ‘And at the mercy of the elements,’ she added with a laugh as a spray of water got her.

      ‘You’ve not had enough?’ he asked. ‘Not feeling seasick at all?’

      ‘No,’ she answered swiftly.

      ‘And no morning sickness?’

      ‘No.’ Something flashed on her face as she shut down the pregnancy talk.

      ‘You must do something other than running for fun?’ he asked, trying to remain relaxed. But her self-containment was irritating the hell out of him.

      ‘I do lots,’ she said. ‘Anything outdoors—walking, cycling—’

      ‘Sex on the beach...’ he interpolated.

      ‘That too, yes.’ She owned it with a glint in her eye.

      ‘So why me? Why not some guy in your battalion?’ His body thrummed. ‘Why did you wait so long and then say yes so quickly?’

      ‘This was your ploy? To take me miles out into the ocean and launch twenty questions at me?’

      He let silence do its thing.

      She gripped a rope more tightly. ‘Why should I tell you all my secrets when you won’t tell me yours?’

      Did she think this was some game of chicken? Couldn’t she understand he was trying to help her?

      ‘What do you want to know?’ he demanded. ‘Ask me anything.’

      ‘What is it that you don’t want to tell me?’

      She didn’t shout. She just asked softly—all wide eyes and petite strength. And she got to him in a way no one else ever had.

      ‘You really know how to torture a man.’

      And she really knew how to challenge him.

      She frowned. ‘Tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done, aside from getting me pregnant.’

      ‘That’s not the worst thing I’ve ever done,’ he snapped. ‘We’re growing a baby. That’s amazing.’

      Her cheeks lost colour. ‘Well, what can you tell me that would make me like you less?’

      ‘So you like me?’

      ‘That would make me want you less.’

      At that admission something broke within him. He wanted to know her thoughts. Because what she thought suddenly mattered.

      ‘I let my brother down,’ he said bluntly. ‘Many times. Too impulsive...too unreliable. Too hot-headed—’

      ‘You’re not that bad,’ she interrupted. ‘You’re just under greater scrutiny than most. Everyone screws up.’

      ‘Not the way I have.’ Soft words tumbled from him. The culmination of hurt and guilt and desperation to stop his mistakes spiralling into a mess meant he couldn’t hold back. ‘I was studying in England when our parents were killed.’

      Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything at his change in tone.

      Eduardo couldn’t look at her any more, so he looked across the blinding blue water instead.

      ‘Antonio needed to concentrate on his coronation. I wanted to return home to help, but he refused. He said it would be better for me to stay studying abroad while he handled it. He didn’t want to have to worry about me.’

      He glanced at her when she made a small sound and shook his head at the pity he read in her eyes.

      ‘Matteo was with me. I wasn’t alone. Not the way Antonio was. His girlfriend, Alessia, was already studying at Cambridge when I got there. They’d been secretly engaged since school. He wouldn’t let her come home either. He delayed announcing their engagement. He didn’t think it right to celebrate so soon after our parents’ death.’

      ‘I know about Alessia,’ Stella said softly.

      Everyone knew about Alessia now. And that was Eduardo’s fault.

      ‘What is it that you know,’ he asked bitterly. ‘That she got sick? That Antonio buried his heart with her when she died?’ The old guilt and helplessness surged inside him. ‘Do you know why you know all that?’

      Stella waited silently. And, stupidly, that made him madder.

      ‘Alessia hadn’t told Antonio how bad it was because she didn’t want to bother him at such a difficult time. She swore me to secrecy and I promised her I wouldn’t tell him.’

      ‘You cared about her?’

      ‘She was the big sister I’d never had.’ He nodded. ‘The one person who made Antonio smile. He was always serious, always burdened, but she brought him joy. And he pushed her away. I was so angry with him.’

      He hadn’t been able to understand why Antonio had kept her at a distance, and he’d been angry when his brother had pushed him away too. Because he’d been too young, too impulsive, not really necessary—which was pretty much the sum total of his life. ‘Special’ but not needed.

      ‘I didn’t tell him and I should have. I should have made him come and see her.’

      Stella frowned. ‘What happened?’

      He regretted this already. But he saw the look in Stella’s eyes and the words fell from him anyway. ‘I was dating a girl from my law class. She saw me with Alessia and was jealous. I told her the truth—that Alessia was Antonio’s fiancée and that she was sick, and that was why I was visiting her. But I hadn’t realised just how sick Alessia was. And then Antonio learned that his fiancée was dying through the media.’

      ‘Because your girlfriend sold the story?’

      The look of outrage and disgust on her face made him smile bitterly. ‘Alessia refused to see him, but he got in to see her anyway. She refused to marry him. She couldn’t give him heirs. She was too ill. He said he didn’t want children—he wanted her for as long as they had left. But she still refused. She sent him back to San Felipe and in the end he had to go. He had to rule. She died a few weeks later.’

      He reached past Stella to steer the yacht back on course.

      ‘He won’t marry now, won’t have children. He promised that to Alessia and he’s determined to keep it true. That is his decision. Duty above all else.’ He glanced up at the flapping sail and pulled on a rope. ‘He could have had a chance with her...even just more time. But I let him down by not

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