Page 63 of The Housekeeper and the Brooding Billionaire

There was nothing he could have done, they’d said. Nothing anyone could have done. But he knew, and he knew Antonia knew too, that if he’d been at home, she might have rested more, letting him look after her as he always did, soothing her fears and reading to her in the evening until she fell asleep.

Gentle fingers touched his and he wanted, so badly, to turn his hand to hold Charlotte’s, clinging to her as if she could eradicate the dark maw of guilt.

Instead he slipped his hand away.

It was time to end this. ‘After that, Antonia gave up, and I watched her waste away before my eyes, mentally even more than physically. It was hell. Then suddenly she seemed to rouse. She looked almost like her old self, with a determination I hadn’t seen in ages. She talked of reconnecting with friends and making the most of the time she had left. I’d been asked to visit an estate to advise on an auction of rare heirlooms, but I’d refused. Antonia urged me to go, said I needed a break from her and thecastello.’

He looked away, unable to hold Charlotte’s eyes. ‘She waited until I’d left. Then she somehow found the strength to walk out into the lake and drown herself. She’d planned it all along.’

He heard Charlotte’s muffled sound of distress, but wisely, this time she didn’t reach for him. He couldn’t blame her.

‘The only thing I could do was manage the public narrative to make it seem like a swimming accident. I owed her that much.’

Especially as he’d failed her and the baby. He’d sworn to protect her, but he hadn’t been able to stop her descent into depression and suicide.

‘You poor man.’

He caught Charlotte’s troubled gaze. ‘Poor Antonia, don’t you mean? I promised I’d look after her. I should have suspected—’

‘How could you have known that’s what she planned? You said yourself she seemed better, talking about connecting with friends.’ She leaned in, her expression earnest. ‘You did your best to care for her, Alessio. And at least she had the solace of knowing you loved her.’

He jerked back then, and found himself on his feet, towering over Charlotte. His voice, when it came, was harsh. ‘But I didn’t. I cared for her as a friend, a good friend. I tried to be a decent husband, but I never loved her or she me. Maybe if I had...’

Alessio shook his head and turned away, his gaze turning inevitably to the island that was his beloved home and at the same time, his prison.

He turned back to Charlotte, drinking in her gentle beauty and, even now, her sympathy. As if his revelations hadn’t proved how undeserving he was.

‘I know the situation’s different now.You’redifferent. But I can’t go there again.’ His throat closed convulsively. ‘I can’t be a father and husband. I can’t be the man you and the baby deserve. I’ll support you both. Anything you need, you can count on from me, and I won’t interfere with any decisions you make about the child. But that’s all I can offer. Nothing more.’

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHARLOTTESLEPTALONEthat night for the first time since the ball when Alessio had swept her into his arms, carried her up to his bed and taken her to heaven.

It seemed a lifetime ago.

She stared at herself in the mirror, seeing the evidence of a sleepless night. But there was some small comfort in pulling on familiar work clothes. For years her work uniform had been a concealment, useful when she wanted to keep her distance, especially from men.

She shrugged into a jacket, feeling the need for extra armour in case she saw Alessio at breakfast. But instead of wearing her usual navy or black, today she’d chosen her one colourful outfit. The dark crimson lent colour to her cheeks and made her tired eyes sparkle. Or maybe that was anger at the way he’d cut himself off from her so completely.

They’d talked on the way back to thecastelloyesterday, and later. Rather, she’d talked and Alessio had politely listened. But it was like addressing a brick wall. Not quite that bad, for he’d nodded from time to time, acknowledging her words. But nothing she’d said had made any difference.

She blinked fiercely as her eyes prickled, and she concentrated on yanking her hair up into a businesslike bun.

She’d considered leaving it down around her shoulders, knowing Alessio liked it that way. But this wasn’t a problem to be solved by using her femininity or trying to seduce him.

She grimaced. If anything,she’dbe the one seduced, for even furious and hurt by his rejection, she was still weak as water around him.

To her shame, she’d spent the night missing his lean strength. Not even for sex but for the comfort of being held close and that sense of blissful intimacy where it felt everything was right in the world.

Alessio was the most stubborn man she’d ever known to believe himself responsible for two tragic deaths when it was clear to any impartial observer that neither had been his fault. Antonia had planned her suicide carefully, getting him out of the way so he couldn’t stop her.

But his guilt showed him to be a man who cared deeply and who took his responsibilities to heart, even if he hadn’t loved Antonia.

Guiltily Charlotte recalled how her heart had jumped at that news. As if that meant he was free to love her.

She spun away from the mirror, unable to meet her haunted eyes.

He doesn’t love you and never will.

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