was concerned enough to argue with her husband. ‘You’re obviously not well! You need to see a doctor…’
‘I tripped on the corner of the rug and I must’ve struck my head,’ Cesario countered, dismissing Rigo, who shot him a troubled look before leaving the room.
Her brow indented as she glanced at the rug, which seemed to be lying perfectly flat. She had only seen him fall and it had looked more like a collapse or a faint to her than a moment of clumsy inattention. Not only did his interpretation not make sense, she could think of no reason why he should lie about it. She studied him worriedly, grateful to see that he had regained colour and looked more like himself. It shook her to recall that just months ago he had meant very little more to her than a stranger in the street, while now he meant the whole world to her.
‘You said you had spoken to my uncle?’ she prompted, her curiosity about the painting overtaking her concern now that he seemed to have made a recovery.
‘Yes, and he didn’t want any trouble. He was even less keen on the idea of the police being called in. He told me that if his sons had my painting he’d have it back here within the hour and presumably they did,’ Cesario pointed out drily.
‘You intended to bring in the police if you didn’t get anywhere with him?’ she pressed.
‘Rather than let your cousins get away with robbing me blind? Fes,’ Cesario confirmed without hesitation, his lean strong face stamped with resolve. ‘I warned your father but, fortunately for him, I’ve got my property back and the matter can be forgotten about now.’
‘Well, I’m glad you got it back but you didn’t really play fair, did you?’ Jess commented, light grey eyes full of reproach. ‘To keep my father safe, I married you and agreed to give you a child, which was a pretty tall order. But in spite of that, today you were ready to sacrifice my father.’
‘Why worry about what didn’t happen, piccola mia?’ Closing the distance between them, Cesario spread his long fingers either side of her anxious face and gently smoothed her skin in a soothing gesture. ‘Your father is innocent of any criminal intention and he was not at risk. I accepted that after speaking to him personally following the robbery and if the police had got involved they would have reached the same conclusion that I did, moglie mia.’
Jess trembled, more affected than she was prepared to admit by his proximity and words of understanding. He’d called her ‘my wife’ and instantly everything seemed lighter and brighter. She wrapped her arms round his neck and within seconds he was kissing her with a hot, driving hunger that left her dizzy with its intensity. Her body quickened, desire rising embarrassingly fast so that she pushed against his hard, muscular frame, her breath ragged in her throat, her nipples tight and throbbing.
‘Bed,’ Cesario muttered thickly, grasping her hand and urging her out of the room and up the stairs.
‘It’s time for dinner,’ she muttered.
‘Non c’è problema! Tommaso won’t let us starve, bellezza mia.’
And the hunger he roused in her with his second kiss was fierce and relentless, every plunge of his tongue sending a responsive quiver through her slight body. It was as if there were a flame desperate for fuel burning at the heart of her as she hauled off his jacket and pulled open his shirt. He laughed softly and then crushed her mouth almost savagely beneath his. As he removed her clothes with impatient hands she knew that, somehow, the same overwhelming urgency and need for fulfilment was driving him.
He sank into her hot, wet sheath hard and fast and released a groan of pleasure that acted like an aphrodisiac on her. She felt wild as she craved every thrust of his lean, muscular hips, her body jolting and straining towards a climax even while he paused to savour the moment. She came apart in the circle of his arms, ravished by the exquisite pleasure that washed through her in a sweet drowning tide, so that even afterwards all she was conscious of was the race of his heartbeat against her breast and the damp, reassuring solidity of his big powerful body against hers.
‘I’ve never needed anyone the way I just needed you, cara mia,’ Cesario framed heavily, both arms wrapped round her as though he was still reluctant to let her go.
And in the fading light she smiled and touched a loving hand to his shadowed jaw line, admiring his fabulous bone structure and the inky darkness of the long lashes that framed his bronzed eyes. She loved to be needed, lived to be needed by him, and his passion for her made her feel special. It would have been the perfect moment to tell him that she was pregnant but she was quick to discard the idea, preferring to concentrate on their togetherness rather than on an announcement that might well bring their current living arrangements to an end. She would share her news in the morning instead, she decided, and she stayed silent, even though they later got out of bed to enjoy a late dinner.
What remained of the night was long, since they made love until dawn. Cesario was tireless and his hunger for her seemed both ravenous and unquenchable. When exhaustion finally overcame her, she slept deeply and wakened to find that she was alone. She had planned to make her announcement over breakfast with Cesario but the morning was already well advanced.
Clad in cropped trousers and a silk top, she hurried across the imposing landing of the mansion that was now her home and sped downstairs. She found Cesario in his office talking in Italian on the phone. Weed and Magic were curled up together below his desk. Eyes tender with love, she watched Cesario unnoticed from the doorway for the space of minute, revelling in the memory of the closeness they had shared and proud of the intimate ache that was the penalty for such passion…
‘JESSICA…’ Cesario perceptibly tensed the instant he saw her there, his lean strong face pulling taut and shuttering. ‘I’ll be with you in a moment.’
A little hurt by the reserve she sensed in him, Jess asked Tommaso to bring them coffee and took a seat. ‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ she said as soon as Cesario had finished his phone call.
Tommaso created a welcome hiatus with his return with a tray and Cesario wandered over to the window with his cup cradled in one lean hand, sunshine glinting over his black hair and adding reflected light to his charismatic dark eyes. ‘What is it?’ he asked casually.
Jess lifted her head high. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she told him quietly.
Cesario looked revealingly stunned, as though that was the last piece of news he had expected to hear. His ebony brows pleated in a questioning frown. ‘You can’t be.’
‘I am.’ A confident smile of achievement illuminated her face. ‘I saw the doctor yesterday and had it confirmed, so there’s no mistake.’
‘But so soon, so, er, quickly?’ Cesario breathed in stilted English, his surprise still lingering in spite of her explanation. ‘We’re both in our thirties and I believed it might take months.’
‘No. We’ll be parents by the end of January next year,’ Jess told him excitedly, wanting to infect him with some of her enthusiasm because he was standing there so still and quiet.
‘January next year,’ Cesario repeated slowly.
She thought he looked pale beneath his bronzed skin and more like a man who had been dealt a severe shock than a man given news he should have been eager to hear. His strong facial bones were
