Page 20 of The Convenient Cosentino Wife

“Why not now?”

“He’s still very young, not yet three.”

“Children benefit from friends at all ages.”

She nodded out at the sea, and then glanced to the right and left, which was all her property. “Where would these playmates come from? The village is four kilometers away, but it wouldn’t be comfortable having strangers here.”

“I agree. But Adriano is very bright. If he can speak three languages now, he’s ready for playmates. The bonds of friends and family are important to emotional growth and well-being.”

Clare had grown up very alone, and her loneliness had been like a wound, festering, aching, and it wasn’t until she’d been sent to a boarding school in Europe that she finally met girls her age, and made her first friends, and with time those friends became a makeshift family. “I don’t disagree. But as a single mother it’s not easy, especially as I’ve no interest in dating let alone remarrying.”

“But you were never married,” Rocco said softly.

Clare flinched, going hot then cold. “Semantics,” she choked. “And you know what I meant.”

“I do.” Rocco walked a little way down the beach, his back to her as he stared out at the ocean, hands thrust into the front pockets of his jeans. His shoulders were wide. His posture was erect. He reminded her of a Roman general surveying his troops.

“I have tried to give him everything,” she said, raising her voice to be sure he could hear. “Adriano is not deprived of anything.”

“But a father,” Rocco replied, turning to face her.

She inhaled sharply, eyes widening. “That’s cruel,” she said, “even for you.”

He held her gaze, expression inscrutable. “Am I cruel?”

“You can be, and you were, putting so much pressure on Marius, trying to break us up—”

“I didn’t,” he gritted.

“You did. Maybe you never said to him, ‘she’s not good enough for you,’ but you implied it in a dozen different ways. I still don’t know why you objected to me, but let’s not pretend now that you supported our marriage.”

Rocco’s faint smile faded, his silver gaze disturbingly intense. “You’re right. I did not.”

“Why?”

“I wanted—”

Whatever he was about to say was interrupted by Gio’s shout. She couldn’t hear what he was saying but she glanced at her phone which was buzzing on her wrist.Urgent, read the text.A call from the States.

“I’m needed in the house,” she said looking at Rocco, meeting his silver gaze and holding it. “But this conversation isn’t finished.”

Rocco watched as Clare hurried across the sand, the breeze picking up tendrils of her dark hair, the full skirt of her pale blue sundress with the tiny embroidered daisies swishing around her legs as she rapidly climbed the stairs to the villa’s terraced garden. He’d come so close to telling her the truth, to sayingI wanted you for myself.

He wanted her to know how strongly he felt about her, but it’d blow up in his face. It’d be a disaster. She wouldn’t be comfortable with the truth, or him. No, some things were best left unspoken.

But that didn’t change how he felt, and it didn’t change his desire. The years apart had only made the want and need stronger.

There would never be another for him now. It was Clare or no one. That’s all there was to it.

Two hours later he was in the spacious library on the first floor reviewing financials when he received what could only be called a summons to meet Clare in her office. In Rocco’s world no one summoned him so it intrigued him to be at Clare’s beck and call. She was comfortable in her villa. She felt safe here. He wondered, though, what it would be like to have her feel a little less controlled, a little bit out of control, her mind and body overwhelmed by pleasure.

Her office was on the second floor in the wing opposite where his rooms were. A bodyguard was positioned at the top of the stairs and he escorted Rocco to Clare. When she opened the door, afternoon sunlight poured in through the tall windows, creating a halo of light around her. She’d changed into trousers and a black knit top, her long hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. She looked businesslike and no-nonsense and even more beautiful.

She stepped back to let him enter the room before closing the office door behind him. “Thank you for not keeping me waiting,” she said crisply, returning to her desk and sitting down. She gestured at a chair on the opposite side of her desk. “Please.”

He sat, trying not to feel like a schoolboy called before the headmistress.

“I shouldn’t have called you cruel,” she said, not wasting time getting to the point. “You’ve spent your life devoted to your family, and you were an exceptional brother to Marius. He would be so happy you’re here now, spending time with Adriano. He would love to see you and Adriano playing football, and just talking about things. I’m grateful, because as you say, Adriano doesn’t have a father, and I don’t want to deprive him of anything—”

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