Page 39 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

Didn’t matter now anyway.

Retrieving her small suitcase from the giant wardrobe, she began to pull out the few clothes she’d brought with her. Into her suitcase went the plain underwear and the handmade silver jewellery he hadn’t wanted her to wear to his fancy function. Next, the functional jeans and ‘best’ dress. As for the rest of them—the silks and satins, the cashmere and the wretched diamond earrings—they could all stay here, for they had no place in her life back in England.

Lastly, she peeled off Romano’s oversized shirt—replacing it with the clothes she’d originally travelled in. But it was only when she was bending over to zip up her case that she felt the first low tug deep in her belly and crammed her fist in her mouth to silence her involuntary gasp of pain.

It was quiet in the apartment when Romano let himself in and for a moment he wondered if Kelly had gone.

His brow furrowed.

Had she?

But his intended search halted at only the second room because there she was, standing in the smallest reception room and staring out of the window, her shoulders hunched. She turned as he entered and something about her expression set his senses on edge, because this was a version of Kelly Butler he didn’t recognise. Not just because her features were so pinched, but because her eyes were shuttered and wary. She looked…lost…

A sudden flicker of conscience began licking at his heart but he blocked it ruthlessly, for he never allowed himself to feel regret. Or pain. Been there. Done that.

Unbuttoning his cashmere coat, he withdrew a paper package from the inside pocket. ‘Here,’ he said gruffly and placed it on the black marble coffee table.

She stared at it uncomprehendingly. ‘What is it?’

He supposed he could have made a clipped suggestion that she open it to find out but her appearance was sofragilethat he couldn’t contemplate such an offhand response. ‘A pregnancy test,’ he said, the words sounding thick against his tongue.

He hadn’t been expecting her to laugh until he registered that no humour was involved in the sound she made. ‘I don’t need one,’ she said dully.

‘What do you mean?’

Another laugh, only this time even more hollow. ‘Oh, come on, Romano—I appreciate that you’re operating out of your comfort zone here, but surely you did enough biology at school to realise that I don’t need one because my period has come.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m not pregnant. Okay? You’re safe.’

His mind was swirling with so many thoughts that it took a while before her words made any sense, but there was no answering rush of relief. He felt… He shook his head and glared at her as, unexpectedly, his heart clenched.

He didn’t know what he felt.

‘Obviously I would like to go back to England as soon as possible,’ she continued woodenly. ‘I’ve had a look at flights and I should easily be able to make the four o’clock. And no—before you offer—I don’t want to go home on your private jet. Though I would appreciate a lift to the airport because I don’t really know my way around Turin’s public transport system. And I would like to go alone.’ She forced a smile. ‘I think that would be better for both of us—well, certainly for me—if we went our separate ways as soon as possible.’

He shrugged, his gaze briefly flickering to the green cross on the front of the pharmacy bag before lifting his eyes to hers. ‘If that’s what you want,’ he said.

‘That’s what I want.’

She was staring at him and it seemed strange to have her so close and yet not have her close to him. And she was chewing on her lip, like somebody in an examination hall. As if she were deciding whether or not to speak and then she nodded, bright curls rippling down her back as she obviously came to a decision.

‘Would you answer me one question before I go, Romano? As honestly as I answered yours?’

Only one? he wondered as he looked at her enquiringly. ‘If I can.’ And in an odd kind of way this request reassured him, because now he was on familiar territory.

Did you ever love me, Romano? Will you miss me—even a bit?

But, as usual, Kelly Butler defied his predictions.

‘Did you deliberately take me to the opera,’ she said slowly, ‘knowing Silvano di Saccucci would be there?’

‘Scusi?’He frowned. ‘Why on earth would I do that?’

She shrugged. ‘To play the part of a man completely captivated by his new girlfriend. Because you gave a wonderful performance, I must say. You weren’t behaving like a playboy at all.’ She was biting the words out as if she had rehearsed them. ‘Even I was a little taken aback by all the hand-holding and the way you gave my tears your unexpected seal of approval. In fact, it was a display so convincing that Silvano actually suggested you marry me. Which meant you’d hit the jackpot, didn’t it? He had tacitly approved you as a potential family man and actually rang up the very next morning and offered to sell you his business. Bingo! Result!’

The accusation took his breath away. It hung between them like a spider’s web—almost invisible to the naked eye but strong enough to capture every toxic fear and suspicion and leave them dangling there. ‘You really think that of me, Kelly?’ he breathed. ‘That I am capable of such deceit and manipulation?’

‘Well, why wouldn’t I?’ she countered quietly. ‘Because isn’t that exactly what you think about me?’

For a while there was silence, broken only by the sounds of their breathing as they surveyed each other from opposite sides of the room, like two prize-fighters in a cage.

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