Page 49 of Italian Baby Shock

‘You do have all of me,’ he insisted, fighting his anger. ‘But there are some things that you don’t need to see.’

‘What things, Cesare? What is so very bad about you that I shouldn’t have to see it?’

He gritted his teeth. He kept on telling her what kind of man he was, but she didn’t seem to believe him. Perhaps he needed to drive the point home. ‘You know what my parents did to me,’ he said flatly. ‘You know how sick they were, how they let their anger consume them. Well, I’m no different. I was furious with them after they died, for the hell they made of my childhood, and for a long time I let that fury take charge. And I nearly let it consume me the way it consumed them. But then I decided I’d had enough of letting them control the course of my life, and so I decided to break up their legacy and finally move on. Then you came along, Lark. You and Maya. And you both gave me hope that I could do something different.’ He found his hands had curled into fists and he tried to relax them. ‘But that doesn’t change who I am. I’m what my parents made me, Lark. Angry, and bitter, and selfish. That’s the part of me that you don’t need to see.’

‘No.’ Lark’s eyes suddenly burned, her voice fierce. ‘No, you stupid man. You might be angry and bitter, and God, if anyone’s got a right to that, it’s you. But you’re not selfish. You’re the opposite. You put your daughter first, every time, and you’re caring and kind and supportive. Why do you think I fell in love with you, you idiot?’

‘It’s not for her,’ he insisted, an odd pain starting up inside him. ‘It’s for the new—’

‘Legacy, yes, so you keep saying,’ Lark interrupted furiously. ‘But I don’t believe that and I don’t think you do, not for a second. You’re doing all that for her, because you love her. Becauseshematters to you, not your stupid legacy.’

His heart was beating far too fast and he felt like a man drowning and trying to grab onto a life vest as it floated past. And missing.

She’s not wrong.

She was, she had to be. Love was toxic. Love had killed his parents and it had nearly killed him. And he didn’t want any part of it. Ever.

This time it was he who pushed himself off the bed and reached for his clothes. ‘I’m not having this conversation,’ he said in a hard voice. ‘In fact, we will never speak of it again.’

Lark didn’t move as he dressed, sitting on the bed naked and so achingly beautiful she stopped his heart.

‘That’s too bad, Cesare,’ she said, still fierce. ‘Because I can’t have half-measures. I’ve given you all of me, but if I can’t have all of you, then I have to do something. I don’t know if I can do friendship, but that’s all I’ve got to offer you right now.’ Tears gleamed on her cheeks even as anger glittered in her eyes. ‘I’d like to tell you I’m sorry, but I’m not.’

He had no answer to that. It was a futile argument anyway, and he knew how those kinds of arguments ended. Very, very badly.

So he said nothing and strode from the room instead.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LARKDIDN’TKNOWwhat to do after that. She didn’t know where that left them, she only knew that while he still believed those terrible things about himself, there was no hope for them. No hope for their marriage at least.

Eventually, her heart tearing itself apart in her chest, she slept, but he didn’t join her.

And she didn’t see him the next day at breakfast either. Apparently, according to one of the palazzo staff, he’d gone in to the office and didn’t know when he’d be back.

Three days later, he still hadn’t returned, and Lark began to wonder if he ever would.

It wasn’t fair. She didn’t care about herself, but denying Maya his presence was a terrible thing to do. She tried calling him to tell him so, but he wouldn’t answer. He didn’t respond to her texts either.

Eventually, after much thinking and then some hunting around, she found Aristophanes’s private number and called him instead.

‘Lark?’ Aristophanes’s deep, cold voice was full of surprise. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’

Lark took a breath. ‘I need you to talk to Cesare. He won’t answer any of my calls and I’m getting desperate.’

‘Oh?’ This time Aristophanes sounded wary. ‘Why?’

She swallowed. ‘I...um...told him I loved him and I couldn’t be his wife any more, not in the way he wanted, and we argued. Then he left.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Aristophanes said, his voice very neutral. ‘That does sound...difficult.’

‘He seems to believe he’s some terrible person,’ Lark said, fighting tears and quite unable to stop herself. ‘But he’s not. He’s the most wonderful man I know and I just want him to believe—’

‘Yes, yes,’ Aristophanes interrupted, sounding distinctly uncomfortable now. ‘I see your point. Well, we can’t have that. I’ll give him a call.’

After he’d disconnected, Lark sat with her phone in her lap, staring at it, only for Maya to come running into the salon the next moment, closely followed by Emily.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Emily said, looking apologetic. ‘Maya was trying to find Signor Donati.’

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