Page 29 of Bound by a One-Night Vow

His eyes darkened with desire and he brought his mouth closer to hers. ‘Not right now.’

* * *

The next two weeks passed in a sensual haze that Izzy never wanted to come out of even though she knew at some point she must. It was always lurking at the back of her mind that none of this was going to last—that this dream of living with Andrea at his gorgeous villa on the Amalfi coast was temporary. No amount of Izzy’s words to the contrary could convince his housekeeper, Gianna, to believe Izzy’s marriage to Andrea wouldn’t magically turn into the real thing. Gianna smiled knowingly every time she saw Izzy coming out of the master bedroom and Izzy had to remind herself that, no matter how passionate his lovemaking, Andrea was not in love with her and didn’t want their marriage to last any longer than it needed to in order to fulfil the terms of her father’s will.

As for her feelings about him... Izzy sighed and tried not to think about how much she enjoyed being with him. Thinking too much made her want too much. Want things she hadn’t even realised she wanted. Had never wanted until now.

But for now she tried to be content about being in a relationship that was mutually satisfying, not just physically but intellectually. He never made her feel she was a high school dropout. He engaged in debates and discussions with her about current affairs and, while he didn’t always agree with her on every topic, he never made her feel embarrassed or foolishly naïve for holding a different view.

Andrea somehow juggled his demanding work while leaving enough time available to spend time with her. He took her shopping for clothes and took her to wonderful local restaurants where the food was as divine as his company. On Gianna’s days off Izzy took over the cooking and, again mentally apologising to her feminist self, actually relished every moment of preparing meals for him as if she were channelling a nineteen-fifties housewife.

The day before they were to leave for Andrea’s business colleague’s wedding in Venice, Izzy woke during the night to the familiar twinge of period pain. Not wanting to wake Andrea, she quietly slipped out of bed and into the en suite bathroom, where she’d left some tampons in her toiletries bag. There was no paracetamol in her toiletries or her tote bag, so she went downstairs to the kitchen to a first aid cupboard where she had seen Gianna take out a Band-Aid a couple of days ago. She found the tablets and poured herself a glass of water and swallowed the pills, hoping it wouldn’t be too long before they kicked in.

But as she stood looking out at the moonlit view over the coast she felt a strange twinge of disappointment. She placed a hand on her cramping abdomen and allowed a thought to slip under the locked door in her brain. The thought of carrying Andrea’s child—a child conceived in love, not just in lust. A child they would raise as a married couple, invested in their relationship, not for material gain or to fulfil the terms of a will but because they truly loved each other and wanted to bring up a family together.

Izzy’s hand fell away from her stomach. She was being silly allowing such a thought to take a foothold. What on earth would she do with a baby? She had never even held one. She didn’t know the first thing about being a mother. She had watched her mother struggle all through her childhood to stand up for herself let alone her children. Who was to say Izzy would be any better at motherhood than she had been at anything else? She hadn’t even completed school. What sort of mother would she make?

‘Cara?’ Andrea’s deep voice shocked her out of her reverie. ‘What are you doing down here at this time of night?’ His gaze went to the paracetamol packet still lying on the kitchen bench. ‘Are you unwell?’ He came up close and placed a gentle hand on her forehead. ‘You do look a little flushed but I don’t think you’ve got a temperature.’

Izzy dipped away from the press of his hand and crossed her arms over her stomach. ‘It’s nothing. I just needed some paracetamol.’

He was still frowning. ‘Do you have a headache?’

‘No.’ She let out a tight breath. ‘Period cramps.’

He placed his hands on the tops of her shoulders. ‘What can I do for you?’

Fall in love with me...

Izzy was terrified he would see the longing in her eyes so kept hers averted. ‘Nothing. I’ve taken the painkillers so it’ll ease soon enough.’

He brought up her chin with his finger. ‘You should have woken me, mio piccolo. Do you often have painful periods?’

Izzy was aware of a thickness building in her throat—emotion that threatened to spill over the sandbags of her self-control. His tender care reminded her of all she would be missing out on once their marriage was over. Who had ever held and comforted her while she had period pain? Who had ever comforted her and looked at her with such concern? She blinked a couple of times and swallowed. ‘Now and again.’ She forced her lips into a stoical smile. ‘I’ll be fine, Andrea. You can go back to bed. I’ll come up in a minute.’

He cradled her cheek with one of his hands, his eyes dark and intense as they held hers. ‘Can I get you a hot pack? I’m sure Gianna has one somewhere.’

‘Please don’t fuss.’ Izzy pulled out of his hold and put some distance between them.

‘Stop pushing me away, Isabella. I’m concerned about you.’ His tone was still gentle but underpinned with a hint of frustration.

Izzy turned to the sink and poured herself another glass of water, chancing a sideways glance at his frowning features. ‘You should be feeling relieved.’

‘Why’s that?’

She turned and waved a hand in front of her belly. ‘I’m not pregnant.’

Something flickered over his face. ‘Were you concerned you might be?’

Izzy shrugged. ‘Not really.’

There was a loaded silence, as if he was thinking through an alternative scenario—the one she had been thinking about moments earlier. Was he imagining her belly growing round and heavy with their child? Was he picturing a dark-haired, dark-eyed baby with chubby limbs and tiny dimpled fingers?

Andrea cleared his throat and sent his fingers through his bed-tousled hair. ‘I’ll get you that heat pack.’ He turned and went to a drawer at the other end of the kitchen and took out a microwavable pack and placed it in the microwave. ‘Go up to bed. I’ll be up with it in a couple of minutes.’

Izzy turned to leave the room, but when she glanced back from the doorway he was standing staring fixedly at the heat pack as he turned on the turntable.

* * *

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