was a pause. ‘Certo,’ he said, raising his shoulders in a non-committal shrug.
His momentary hesitation jarred, as did the less than welcoming look on his face and Nicole wanted to forget about her promise, but she couldn’t. Deliberately choosing the far end of the seat, she sat down, her heart racing as she watched a butterfly hovering over some little white flowers and tried to work out how she could possibly phrase this without looking a complete...
No.
She’d been there and done that. It didn’t matter what this did to her reputation or how it made her look. And besides, caring about that kind of thing was shallow. What mattered was getting to the truth, no matter what that might be.
‘Turi had some interesting things to say,’ she said slowly.
Was there something in her tone which made his face grow guarded? Was that why he slanted her a thoughtful look which was followed by one of slight boredom? ‘Do I really want to hear them?’ he drawled.
She suspected not, but he was going to hear them anyway. ‘He told me to ask you why you left Sicily. So I’m asking.’
It was not what Rocco had been expecting and Nicole’s words hit him like bullets from a gun. He could feel his body tensing as every instinct urged him to shut this topic down. To tell her it was none of her damned business—nor Turi’s either. His laugh was short and, infuriatingly, his curiosity stirred. ‘No doubt he had a few ideas himself—a few explanations why that might be?’
She drew in a breath which wasn’t quite steady and he could see the doubt written on her face. ‘He did, but I’m not sure I believed them. He told me lots of things. He seemed to feel guilty about the way he treated you.’
At this Rocco held up his palm to silence her, wanting her to know that she was in danger of crossing a forbidden line. ‘My grandfather stepped in when my parents were killed,’ he said coldly. ‘How could he possibly feel guilty about something like that?’
‘That wasn’t what I meant,’ she persisted. ‘He told me he’d insisted you never show your feelings or emotions after they died. That because you were the oldest he forced you to be strong for the sake of Olivio and Romina.’
‘And I was damaged as a result? Is that it?’ he questioned, before giving a dismissive flick of his hand. ‘Madonna mia, I had no idea that Turi had taken such an interest in amateur psychology in his advancing years.’
But Nicole doggedly ignored his sarcasm and kept her gaze fixed firmly on his. ‘So why did you leave Sicily?’
He could feel a muscle beginning to work at his temple and once again he wondered how she had the ability to make him feel so damned angry. ‘Maybe I found it intolerable to stay once my darling wife had disappeared without any warning, leaving the whole of Sicily buzzing and the international press camped out on my doorstep. You can’t blame me for wanting to escape all the speculation after you’d gone. And since we’re on the subject of raking up the past—just why did you go, Nicole?’
‘I thought it was what you wanted,’ she said dully.
‘You thought it was what I wanted?’ he repeated. ‘Then that just shows how little you really knew me, doesn’t it?’ He picked up the sheaf of papers as if she were keeping him from something very important and raised his eyebrows. ‘Look, I’m grateful to you for coming here and seeing Turi, and I’m glad he’s been able to get what was clearly bothering him off his chest since undoubtedly that will aid his recovery, but there isn’t any reason for you to stay any longer. We’re done here, aren’t we? I’ll sign the papers and you can have your divorce. My plane will take you back to England as soon as you’re ready—and since you’re pretty much packed, I don’t think there’s any reason for you to hang around. Capisce?’
The words rolled smoothly from his tongue as if he couldn’t wait to get rid of them. To get rid of her. Nicole met the sapphire glitter of his eyes. This was her cue to make a dignified exit. To go back to the house and gather her few things together. She would say a rather awkward goodbye to Maria and then be whisked away from here in Rocco’s private jet—one last taste of luxury before she returned to her newly single life in England.
Wasn’t that what she’d wanted all along?
She could feel the painful pounding of her heart.
No.
It might have been what she’d thought she wanted when she’d first filed those papers, but not any more. Because being with Rocco made her world come alive in a way it didn’t do with anyone else, whether she liked it or not. Didn’t matter that logic was urging her to get out while she still could, because all the logic in the world couldn’t change the fact that her heart ached whenever she was with him. She’d loved him from the start and she loved him still—and love was an emotion which defied logic. She had never known what had made Rocco Barberi the unfathomable man he was, but she did now. She thought how lonely and bewildered he must have been as a bereaved teenager—unable to show his own grief because he was too busy being strong for his siblings. Couldn’t she help break down the wall he had built around his heart? Couldn’t she try? She’d learnt to articulate her own emotions—maybe she could help him do the same.
Because she didn’t want a divorce. She really didn’t. She wanted a reconciliation—a real one this time, not one which was just for show. One which might or might not work, but surely they could give it a try.
But only if he wanted it, too.
She sat up very straight, the wooden slats of the bench pressing into her back. ‘I don’t want to fly back in your private jet, Rocco,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I want to stay here, with you. Or go back with you to Monaco—whichever you prefer.’
His features darkened. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
He snarled the question rather than asking it and, stupidly, that gave Nicole a glimmer of hope. Because Rocco was cool and measured and controlled, wasn’t he? He didn’t snarl. ‘I want to give our marriage another go,’ she said calmly. ‘And I’m hoping you might feel the same.’
‘Are you insane?’
The snarl was even more pronounced now and that gave Nicole the courage to carry on, because now she had nothing left to lose. She was laying it all on the line and pride was pointless. She was fighting for her future, she realised—a future which suddenly seemed empty without Rocco. ‘Perhaps a little,’ she admitted huskily. ‘But I want to tell you a few things I’ve discovered since you came back into my life.’
‘Nicole—’
‘Please, Rocco. At least do me the courtesy of hearing me out. Because I’ve discovered I am as much to blame for what happened as you were,’ she said, cutting across his words in a way she would never have dared do before. ‘I can see that now. I was just so...grateful...that you’d married me. Relieved that I wouldn’t end up like my own natural mother—so desperate for money and support that I’d dump my own baby and leave them crying feebly on a snowy hospital step. Only I would never have let that happen,’ she added fiercely, flaring her nostrils to suck in a shaky breath. ‘No matter what happened, I would have kept our baby...’
Her words tailed off and as she struggled to contain herself, Rocco shifted awkwardly on the seat. ‘Nicole,’ he said again, only this time his voice sounded almost gentle—like a
