imagined any of the pop stars or film stars rescuing her on a white steed. Only Christian.
He hadn’t rescued her. He hadn’t saved her. All he’d done was unlock her heart.
She’d always wondered how his women could swallow his lies, had assumed he must have lied to them to get so many of them into his bed.
He didn’t lie. He didn’t need to. Women wanted him regardless. She wanted him regardless.
She always had.
‘Alessandra?’
She darted her eyes to him.
‘Is something the matter? You’ve gone very pale.’
She shook her head with vigour, part in denial and part to clear the burn scratching the back of her retinas. ‘Will Kerstin come to Tokyo with us?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.’
‘Have you slept with her yet?’ The question escaped before she could contain it.
‘Ochi! What kind of question is that?’
‘An obvious one.’
‘No, I have not slept with Kerstin, and I am insulted you would think I have.’
‘Don’t be insulted. It’s only a matter of time.’
A dangerous silence followed.
When she looked at him, Christian’s eyes had darkened and fixed on her, a pulse throbbing at the junction where his earlobe met his jaw.
Not taking his eyes from her face, he put his knife and fork together on his half-eaten meal and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, which he then screwed into a ball and released onto his plate.
‘Get your things together,’ he said, rising to his feet and throwing some euros onto the table. ‘We’re leaving. I’ll wait outside for you.’
She watched him retreat, her heart hammering so hard she could feel the beats in her mouth.
Even her legs were shaking, her whole body one mass vibration of cold fear and misery.
Their waiter appeared with her jacket. ‘Is something wrong with your meal?’ he asked anxiously.
‘No, it’s delicious. My husband’s remembered an appointment, that’s all.’
As promised, Christian stood outside on the pavement with his arms folded.
His car pulled up in front of them. Christian didn’t wait for the driver to get out, opening the back door himself and indicating for Alessandra to get in.
She waited until the car was in motion before attempting to apologise. ‘I’m sorry if I…’
‘I am not prepared to have this discussion in the back of a car,’ he said grimly.
‘But…’
‘Ochi!’ he said with such finality she clamped her lips together lest she say anything else.
ONCE INSIDE THE APARTMENT, Alessandra hurried to hang up her jacket and remove her boots. ‘I’m going to make myself a camomile tea. Do you want anything?’
‘No.’ Christian’s answer was curt. She could feel his anger rippling beneath the surface, just as it had on the drive back from the restaurant when he’d sat beside her with arms folded so tightly she could see the muscles bunched beneath his shirt.
Now his hands were rammed firmly into his pockets.
She headed straight for the kitchen area and with shaking hands filled the kettle. Camomile tea, while not the most palatable of hot drinks, was famed for its calming abilities. Maybe it would help soothe the tumult of emotions shredding her.
Dio l’aiuti, she loved him.
‘I’m struggling to understand some things,’ Christian said in a tone calm and reasonable. She could hear the undercurrent of wrath beneath it, though. ‘I took Kerstin on at your behest.’
Keeping her back to him, she took a teabag from the container. ‘You wanted her anyway.’ How could he not? Kerstin was perfect. She was everything that she, Alessandra, was not. For a start, Kerstin would never be so careless about contraception. If Christian was to have a family with the German woman it would be because they both chose it and not out of a sense of duty.
‘Not in the way you’re implying.’
‘You should.’
‘What should I want? To sleep with her?’
Did he really expect her to believe his incredulity? This from the man who hadn’t touched her, his wife, since the night they’d exchanged their vows. He hadn’t laid a single finger on her.
‘Why not? She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘That doesn’t mean I want to have sex with her.’
‘Of course you do. She’s exactly your type, all long legs and blonde hair.’ Deliberately, she tossed her hair back and flashed a smile. Hold it together, Alessandra, please; just a few more minutes, keep it together, then this conversation will be over and you can breathe again. Her fingers dug into the palm of her hands so tightly she could feel her nails pierce the skin. ‘Honestly, Christian, I think you’re mad for not wanting to sleep with her. She’s perfect for you.’
‘I’m married to you. I chose you.’
His words cut through her, slicing through her heart and deep into her marrow.
Lies. Lies. Lies.
‘You chose me?’ she asked slowly, her ears ringing, her heart thundering so hard it reverberated through her skin.
‘You know I did. I made my vows to you.’
Alessandra twisted round so quickly Christian could have sworn she’d performed a pirouette.
The smile she’d been wearing since their return to the apartment had been nothing but a mask that now ripped away to reveal the savagery beneath the surface.
‘You chose me?’
‘Alessandra…’
‘You chose me?’ Her husky voice rose with every syllable. Before he knew what was happening, she’d grabbed her cup and thrown it at the far wall. White china exploded upon impact, large chunks flying onto the wooden floor, smaller shards landing like darts around the larger pieces.
‘What the…?’
‘You
