She couldn’t, Allegra knew with a pang of true fear, be sure about anything.
ALLEGRA GAZED OUT the window of the passenger jet at the hard blue sky, not a cloud in sight, and tried to bolster her courage as well as calm her seething nerves. They were due to land in Palermo in less than an hour, and after a sleepless night in the first-class cabin she felt exhausted and overwhelmed.
‘Do you need anything?’ Rafael asked as he looked up from his tablet where he’d been scanning the morning news. ‘Herbal tea? A hot compress?’
‘I’m fine.’ He’d been all solicitousness for the flight, but it was a formal, distant concern that set Allegra’s nerves on edge. She felt like his patient, or perhaps his possession. Maybe both. And she was conscious, more than ever, of how much she’d left behind. Her job. Her life. Freedom and independence.
‘How far is your villa from the airport?’ she asked, and Rafael put his tablet aside.
‘About an hour. A limo will pick us up.’
She nodded, gripping the armrests, wishing she felt more at ease. More confident that she was doing the right thing. She’d be living in the lap of luxury after all. Rafael had promised her just about anything she wanted. And yet...he could be such a hard man. Even when he was being kind there was a distance to him, a remoteness that made her uneasy. And she knew no one in Sicily other than him. Their baby wasn’t due for over four months. What would she do all day? Could she be happy?
‘Please don’t worry,’ Rafael murmured, resting one long, lean hand on top of hers. ‘It will all be fine.’
Allegra nodded again. Rafael squeezed her hand, and the simple touch had the power to affect her, reminded her that despite all their differences they did have chemistry. Chemistry Rafael no doubt expected them to act on...but when? She couldn’t even begin to think about that. Sex seemed like an impossibility, although the doctor had, with a smile and a wink, given them the all-clear.
‘There’s no reason,’ he’d said, looking at them both, ‘why you can’t have a normal pregnancy from now until your delivery...and a normal sex life.’
Allegra had blushed and stared down at her lap. Rafael had said nothing. She had no idea what to expect from him, from anything, and it made her feel uncertain. Vulnerable. Which was a feeling she hated.
‘Please prepare for landing.’
Allegra put her seat up as the steward went through the cabin and the plane began its descent. Below she could see Sicily spread out in a living map: dusty, rocky hills and towns with red-roofed buildings that looked as if they were clinging to the mountainside. It was unfamiliar and yet it struck a chord, reminded her suddenly and sweetly of her childhood in Italy. A soft sigh escaped her and Rafael gave her a sharp look.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes, I was just thinking about when I lived here. That is, in Italy.’ She gave him a small smile. ‘It feels like a lifetime ago.’
‘You lived in Rome?’
‘I lived in Rome during the school year,’ she answered, ‘and spent summers at our estate in Abruzzi. I loved it there.’ The land had been harsh and rugged and unrelentingly beautiful, snow-capped mountains piercing a brilliantly blue sky. She’d loved the quiet, the sense of solitude and stillness and peace. It had spoken to her shy, solitary spirit.
‘You missed it?’ Rafael asked after a moment.
‘Yes, especially because my first year in New York was so awful.’ She shook her head at the memory, her mouth twisting.
‘What was so awful about it?’
‘Everything. My English was terrible, and the school was big and rough—I felt lost. I was teased too, but it helped when I kept myself to myself. Then I was just invisible.’
Rafael frowned. ‘That doesn’t sound like much fun.’
‘No, but I’ve always liked my own company.’ She paused. ‘It’s easier, isn’t it, not to depend on anyone? Not to care.’
Rafael didn’t respond, merely frowned and looked out the window. Allegra wondered what he was thinking and decided not to ask. Better not to share any more feelings than she already had.
The plane touched down with a bump, and for the next hour they were kept busy clearing Immigration and collecting their luggage.
By the time Allegra slid into the limo she felt exhausted, and although she’d meant to take in the scenery on the drive to Rafael’s estate, she ended up falling asleep as the limo climbed narrow, twisting roads, making the steep ascent into the mountains.
When Rafael nudged her gently awake she discovered she was lying on the seat, her head in his lap, her cheek resting on his powerful thigh. Rafael’s hand rested lightly on her hair. It felt wonderful and alarming at the same time, and she scrambled up to a sitting position as quickly as she could. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled as she pushed tangled hair away from her eyes. She felt thick-headed, her body clock completely out of synch, and she had a feeling she looked like a disaster. ‘I didn’t even realise I’d fallen asleep.’
‘You were tired. We’re here now, and after the doctor checks you out you can have a proper rest.’
Allegra looked at him in confusion. ‘The doctor?’
‘I’ve put a doctor on retainer for the duration of your pregnancy. He’s living in one of the estate’s cottages. It seemed sensible, considering the remoteness of our location. Of course, Palermo’s emergency medical facilities are less than an hour away, and I have a helicopter on the estate.’
She stared at him in surprise. ‘But the doctor in New York said my pregnancy was normal, Rafael. This seems a bit excessive.’ Which was massive understatement. She didn’t need a doctor on call, surely. And yet Rafael looked obdurate.
Rafael flicked a glance at her. ‘There is no harm in taking precautions. You want what’s best for our son, don’t you?’
Once again he was playing that trump card. Allegra decided not to argue. She was too tired, and she supposed there was no reason to mind having a doctor around.
Rafael opened the door to the limo and ushered her out, one hand resting on her elbow as he guided her towards the villa. Allegra paused on the portico, breathing in the warm, fir-scented air as she took in the curving drive that snaked through dense trees, the rolling, rocky hills visible beyond.
She turned to the house, a sprawling and imposing villa of weathered stone, its double doors of ancient, scarred wood now flung open. A smiling, red-cheeked woman, her greying hair piled on top of her head in a round bun, gave them both a wide smile while next to her a tall, lanky man nodded and bowed.
‘This is Maria and Salvatore, my housekeeper and groundsman,’ Rafael explained to Allegra. He spoke in Italian, which he hadn’t done with her all the time they’d been in New York, and even though it was her native language, after so many years in America it took Allegra a moment to make the adjustment.
Maria
