stop paying me as your housekeeper, and hire me straight out as your whore. No, I get it.” Holding up her hand, she said coldly, “I’m sorry, this is awkward for you, isn’t it? Usually I’m the one who handles this, who puts out your trash the morning after.” She looked past the tangled mess of bedcovers at the foot of the bed, still surrounded by an explosion of money, to his platinum watch lying on the floor. “You even gave me a watch. Just like all the rest.”
His own personal watch was even more expensive than the Cartier ones, but he sensed telling her that wouldn’t impress her. “Emma, you’re being idiotic....”
“I really am just like the rest.” She threw the sheets aside and stood up from the bed. “I’ll just collect my things and buy myself some roses on the high street, shall I?”
But as she started to walk away from the bed, Cesare grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t do this,” he said in a low voice.
“Do what?”
“This.” He looked up at her, his eyes glittering. “I want you in my bed. For now. For as long as it’s fun for both of us. Can’t that be enough? Why do you need false promises of more? Why can’t you just accept what I freely offer you?”
Their eyes locked. He could see the pain in her gaze.
“I want more. I want it all,” she whispered. “Love. Marriage.” She swallowed, looking up at him. “I want a baby. Our baby.”
The air around him suddenly felt thin. He shrank back from her words. Literally. “Emma...”
“I don’t need a wedding proposal. Or for you to say you’re ready to be a father.” Her eyes met his. “I just need to know you might want those things someday.” She blinked fast. “That you might be open to the possibility...if something ever...”
“No,” Cesare choked out. Still naked, he scrambled back on the bed, putting his hand to his neck, feeling as if he had something tight around his throat. He took a deep breath, forcing his hands down, trying to calm down, to breathe. “Either this is a fun diversion, a friendship with benefits, or it’s nothing. You decide.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her face as pale as marble. Then, violently, she grabbed her white bra and panties off the floor and yanked them on her body. Walking to her closet, she pulled out big armfuls of clothes. “What was I thinking—” she kicked open her old suitcase “—to believe—” she tossed the clothes inside “—in miracles!”
Cesare rose to his feet. Still naked, he padded across the hardwood floor. Without her warmth next to him, the bedroom felt chilly in the autumn morning. He heard traffic noise from the street outside. Soon, the house’s day staff would arrive. He desperately wanted this settled before they were interrupted. He felt Emma was slipping away from him. He didn’t understand why. With a deep breath, he tried once more.
“Why are you throwing everything away for the sake of some distant future? Think about today.” Wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, he nuzzled the side of her neck and said in a low voice, “Let tomorrow take care of itself....”
Her skin was cold to the touch. She pulled away. Her beautiful face looked more than forlorn now—she looked frozen.
He sucked in his breath. He searched her face. “You’re still going to leave, aren’t you,” he breathed. “You’re still going to throw everything away for dreams of love, marriage and children. For a delusion. I can’t believe you’d be such a...”
Emma’s eyes were stony. She looked as if her soul had been shattered.
“...fool?” she finished.
He gave a single stiff nod.
She shook her head, wiping her eyes. “You’re right. I have been a fool. A stupid romantic fool who believed a man like you could ever change.”
Kneeling down, she gathered all the piles of money off the floor and dumped it into her suitcase. Picking up the platinum watch, she tossed it inside, then closed the suitcase with a bang. She looked down.
“Thank you for your offer,” she said in a low voice. “I’m sure some other woman will take you up on it.” She looked up, her eyes luminous with tears. “But I’m going to have a baby, and a home. And a man who loves us both.”
Her words, spoken with such finality, hit him like a blow. He’d just offered Emma more than he’d offered any woman in ten years. And this was his reward for letting himself be vulnerable. Though he stood in front of Emma right now in flesh and blood, she was still rejecting him for some ridiculous fantasy of love and a child.
Something Cesare hadn’t felt in a long, long time—something he’d thought he would never feel again—sliced through his heart.
Hurt.
His arms dropped. He stepped back.
“Bene,” he said stiffly. “Go.”
She pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. She picked up a few errant fifty-dollar banknotes off the floor and tucked them securely in her pocket, then lifted her chin. “Don’t worry. I won’t bother you again. I’ll leave you alone to live the life you want. I give you my word.” She held out her hand as if they were strangers. “Goodbye, Cesare.”
His lips tightened, but he shook her hand.
“Arrivederci, Signorina Hayes. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
Her green eyes shimmered, and she turned away without a word. Gathering her suitcase, her coat and her bag, Emma left the tidy bedroom. Cesare listened to her suitcase thump, thump, thump down his stairs. He listened to the front door open—and then latch closed.
She’d really gone. He couldn’t believe it.
Going to the window, he looked down and watched her walk away, down the sidewalk toward Kensington High Street, in the drizzling rain of London’s gray morning. He watched her small, forlorn figure with an old suitcase and a beige mackintosh, and felt a strange twist in his chest.
It’s better this way, he told himself fiercely. Better for her to go, before the small hole in his heart had a chance to grow any larger. He watched her get smaller and smaller.
“Go,” Cesare said aloud in the empty room. “You mean nothing to me.”
But still, his hands tightened at his sides. She’ll be back, he thought suddenly. No woman he wanted had ever been able to resist for long. And the sex had been too good between them. Emma wouldn’t be able to stay away.
She’d soon be back, begging to negotiate the terms of her surrender. He exhaled, his shoulders relaxing. He allowed himself a smile. She’d be back. He knew it.
Within the week, if not the day.
Ten months later
CESARE LOOKED OUT the window as his driver pulled the Rolls-Royce smoothly through the traffic of the Quai Branly, past the Pont de
