with the depth of his conviction.
Raoul had been taking slow deliberate steps towards her as he spoke, but he stopped now that his dark eyes fastened on her face.
Could it be true?
Unable any longer to hold it in, she said the words he had ached to hear again. ‘I love you, Raoul. I love you so much, I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I thought all you wanted from me was an heir, and I wanted so...so much to give you one because I thought you didn’t want me—’
The rest of her confession was lost in his mouth. Raoul crushed her to him, drinking in the taste of her, his hands moulding her body to his.
He framed her face with his hands and looked down into her eyes. ‘I can’t believe I just stood there. I can’t believe I thought it would be easier to be alone and lonely than risk my heart. When I think what I could have lost... When I came back and found you gone I— Never, ever do that to me again. If you knew the things I have been imagining...’
‘It was awful,’ she admitted. ‘It tore me apart...’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’ve decided against the IVF.’
A shade of caution flickered into his dark eyes.
‘I found out yesterday that I’m pregnant.’
Joy filled his face. ‘Perfect!’ He kissed her and added throatily, ‘You are perfect, and you must not worry this time—’
She pressed a finger to his lips. ‘I am not worried, not while I have you,’ she said simply. Whatever life threw at her, with Raoul at her side they would come through, together.
Neither heard the noise as the front door swung open.
Lily stood there pulling on her coat, blocking the way of Ben, who wielded a pushchair containing a sleeping child.
‘We have to go back out!’ she whispered.
‘Why?’
‘Lara is in there—’
‘Oh, God, is she drunk again?’
‘No, you idiot, she’s not drunk. She’s in love!’
* * * * *
Lucy Gordon
AFTERWARDS ELLIE ALWAYS remembered the day when things really started to happen, when the sky glowed, the universe trembled to its foundations and nothing was ever the same again.
It began gloomily, a cold February morning with the traffic in a jam, delaying her as she drove to work. Drumming her fingers against the steering wheel, she drew in sharp breaths of exasperation.
The world would call her a successful woman, a highly qualified lawyer employed by one of London’s most notable legal practices. To be late for work should have been beneath her. But it was happening.
When she finally arrived, Rita, her young secretary, greeted her with agitation.
‘The boss has been asking about you every minute.’
The boss was Alex Dallon, founder and head of Dallon Ltd. He was an efficient, demanding man, and it was no small achievement that Ellie had earned his favour.
‘Is he annoyed because I’m late?’ Ellie asked.
‘A bit. Signor Fellani called to say he was coming in this morning and Mr Dallon doesn’t have time to see him.’
‘I wasn’t aware that Signor Fellani had an appointment.’
‘No, but you know him. He just announces he’s coming.’
‘And we all have to jump to it,’ Ellie groaned.
‘I wouldn’t mind jumping for him,’ Rita declared longingly. ‘He’s gorgeous!’
‘That’s not the point,’ Ellie told her, severely but kindly. ‘Looks aren’t everything.’
‘His are,’ Rita sighed.
‘No man’s are,’ Ellie said firmly.
Rita’s response was a cynical look that Ellie understood. She knew exactly how she appeared to her secretary. Rita was a pretty, vivacious young woman with an eager interest in finding ‘the one’. Ellie was a successful, efficient woman in her late thirties, with no husband or lover. Rita would clearly see that as a fate to avoid. To her, a man as attractive as Leonizio Fellani was not merely a client, but a dream to sigh over.
Ellie could understand how naïve Rita could fall for him. He was a man nobody could overlook, in his early thirties, with black hair and dark eyes that drew instant attention. He had a tall, athletic build and moved with a masculine grace that drew many eyes towards him. His face, she conceded, was handsome, although too often marred by tension.
Just once she had seen him smile, and there had been a glimpse of the kinder man he might have been. But it was over in a moment as the unyielding side of his nature took over again.
She herself ignored male attractions. There had been moments in her past when she had weakened, which was how she thought of it. But things hadn’t worked out and she’d gathered her defences again.
Her appearance disappointed her. Her face was pleasant but not strikingly pretty. She possessed only one outstanding feature. Her hair. If she wore it long it could appear lush and wildly wavy. But she chose to scrape it back, tying the length into a bun at the back.
Businesslike, she often thought, regarding herself sadly in the mirror. Nobody is going to sigh over those looks.
She tended to judge herself severely. Many women would have envied her slender figure, but she considered herself too thin and overly angular. It was her nature to be realistic about her own lack of conventional attractions. Unlike Rita, she would never sigh over a handsome man like Signor Fellani.
He was an important client, wealthy, Italian, strong-minded. Curiosity had inspired Ellie to look up his name and she’d discovered that Leonizio meant ‘lion-like’. It suited his commanding ways, she reckoned.
He had made a fortune manufacturing shoes. His luxurious, elegant products sold all over the world, especially in the UK. Just across the road from Ellie’s office was a large store that sold them in great numbers.
His base was in Rome, but he employed this London firm to handle the divorce from his English wife. Alex Dallon liked Ellie to deal with this client often because her grandmother had been Italian and she had a basic knowledge of the language. Not that she ever needed to use it. Signor Fellani’s command of English was like everything else about him: precise and efficient.
‘Has there been any more mail from his wife’s lawyers?’ Ellie asked. ‘The last I heard was that she was refusing
