Wish Upon A Star. Sarah Morgan
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How had it happened?
There’d been a time when she would have tugged on her walking boots and her weatherproof jacket and headed out into the hills without a backward glance. But all that had changed once the children had arrived.
Pushing aside the uncomfortable thought that her life was posing some questions she didn’t want to answer, she walked past him into the house. ‘Perhaps we’ll talk about it later.’ She tossed her hair out of her eyes. ‘When you eventually come back from the hospital.’
The atmosphere snapped tight between them and Christy cursed herself. She hadn’t intended to irritate or aggravate him. She’d wanted to be super-cool and indifferent in the same way that he was clearly indifferent to her.
If he wasn’t indifferent, he would have followed her to London and talked about their problems.
He would have dragged her home where she belonged.
But he seemed to hurt her at every turn. Even now, by going straight back to the hospital, by not wanting to be with her, he was hurting her.
His eyes narrowed, his mouth tightened and his shoulders tensed. ‘I’ll take the cases up to your room.’
He sounded like a hotel concierge, Christy thought miserably as they trailed their way upstairs. Showing her around. Any minute now he’d be wishing her a pleasant stay. She’d expected anger and hostility, but what she hadn’t expected was his coldness. She didn’t know how to deal with coldness.
The children ran ahead, whooping and shrieking, excited about seeing their rooms again, oblivious of the rising tension between the two adults.
Envious of their carefree, uncomplicated approach to life, Christy watched them go. ‘They’re so pleased to be here,’ she said softly, and Alessandro turned to her with something that was almost a growl.
‘Of course they are pleased to be here. It’s their home. They never should have left. And you never should have taken them!’
She inhaled sharply, shocked by the sharp stab of pain that lanced through her. He’d said that ‘they’ never should have left. He hadn’t said anything about her. He didn’t care about her. The only reason that he cared that she’d moved out was because he missed his children.
It was all about the children.
She felt a lump building in her throat and swallowed it down with an effort, reminding herself that she had to behave like an adult even though she wanted to break down and cry like a child.
‘You’re blaming me for this situation, Alessandro?’
‘You’re the one who decided to move out of the family home.’
It was only supposed to be temporary, she wanted to shout. You were supposed to come after me. But pride stopped her saying what she wanted to say. Pride and the knowledge that he hadn’t cared enough to come after her.
Her eyes blazed into his. ‘And that makes this my fault?’
‘I missed one lousy anniversary.’ His eyes flashed dark with frustration and he ran both hands through his hair. ‘And you walked out.’
Christy bit her lip. He just didn’t get it. He couldn’t even understand why she was so upset. How had they come to this?
She swallowed hard. ‘It wasn’t about the anniversary, Alessandro.’ Although that had hurt badly. ‘It was so much more than that. And we can’t talk about this now. The children will hear us.’
‘You didn’t talk about it at any time,’ he said roughly, his eyes dark and dangerous, his accent thicker than ever. ‘You just left, ripping all the important things in my life away from me.’
She winced at his description and forgot her resolutions not to argue with him. ‘I tried to talk to you but you were always at the hospital or out on a rescue!’
‘It’s my job, Christy.’
And he’d been avoiding the issue. ‘We never communicate any more, Alessandro. When did you last spend time with me?’
‘You were in my bed every single night.’ His arrogant declaration brought a flush of colour to her pale cheeks.
‘That was just sex,’ she muttered. ‘The only place we ever spent time together was in bed.’
Right from the first moment they’d met, they’d been unable to keep their hands off each other—to exercise anything even remotely resembling self-control.
Awareness throbbed between them and as she caught the passion and fire in his eyes, only partially concealed by thick, dark lashes. Painfully aware of his vibrant masculinity, she turned away, trying desperately to ignore the agony of need that flared inside her body.
It didn’t mean anything, she told herself miserably. Alessandro was a red-blooded Mediterranean man and sex had always been important to him. It didn’t mean that he loved her. Sex was not a way to solve problems.
But maybe it would be a start, she thought to herself.
If they shared a bed tonight, perhaps they’d feel closer and could start talking.
‘When did we last spend time together, Alessandro?’ she said in a choked voice. ‘Wasn’t I important? Do strangers in trouble matter more than your own wife?’
A muscle worked in his jaw and he let out a long breath, but before he could speak, the children came barrelling out of their bedrooms. ‘We’re going outside to play in the snow,’ Katy yelled, ponytail flying as she took the stairs two at a time with Ben close behind her.
‘Don’t forget your coats,’ Christy called after them, suddenly desperate for them to stay, to breathe life and fun into the place. She didn’t want to be on her own with Alessandro. Didn’t have the energy for the confrontation that was brewing.
Reading her mind, he took a step towards her. ‘So—I’m here now. If you want to talk, then talk.’ He looked remote and unapproachable and she felt everything sink inside her.
She knew that some of the nurses and junior doctors found Alessandro intimidating, but she’d only ever loved the fact that he had no tolerance for anything less than perfection. It was what made him such an excellent doctor. So why did she suddenly find him so formidable?
‘We can’t talk about this in five minutes with you due back at the hospital. It’s too important for that.’
‘If you’ve got something to say, say it.’ His mouth was grim as he moved towards her. ‘You’re trembling. Do I make you nervous, Christy?’
If he kissed her, she was lost.
She backed away and hated herself for it. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you don’t make me nervous.’
‘Feeling