The Chatsfield: Series 2. Кейт Хьюит
but she assumed the pilot was taking it back to Rome.
Something skated over Keelin’s skin to think of Gianni and how angry he’d been last night. And of facing him this morning. Recalling the events of the previous day felt a little dreamlike. Had it really happened?She looked down and saw the enormous diamond of her engagement ring and the slim wedding band.
Oh, yes, it had happened. She’d exchanged vows with the man in front of witnesses. And even now she could recall the strange kind of paralysis that had gripped her.
Knowing she’d have to face him sooner or later, Keelin went back inside and found that her things that had been sent on ahead were hanging up or in drawers. Along with a lot of clothes that looked brand-new. Her blood boiled slightly to think of him instructing someone anonymous to pick things out for her.
After a quick shower she dressed in worn jeans and one of her favourite plaid shirts and thought to herself that if Gianni didn’t like it, then he’d have to get used to it because this was the real her.
But as she found her way downstairs she had the uncanny sensation that Gianni wasn’t here. And until now she hadn’t even realised she’d been so aware of his whereabouts at any given time.
Lucia the housekeeper appeared as Keelin got to the bottom of the stairs looking a little worried. She spoke fast and made some kind of gesture with her hands, as if something was flying away. It was the unmistakable concern mixed with pity in her kind brown eyes that sent the knowledge into Keelin’s gut.
Gianni had been in the helicopter. He’d gone somewhere and left her here. For a second she almost couldn’t breathe. Her belly lurched. Lucia was taking her by the arm, still speaking unintelligible Italian, guiding Keelin to a gorgeous outdoor terrace where a table was set for breakfast.
Lucia fussed around her but Keelin was struggling to compute what that might mean, if Gianni had left. Mechanically she ate what was put in front of her and drank hot strong coffee.
She didn’t like the awful creeping sensation of isolation, of being somehow powerless. She was in a villa in the middle of nowhere—it seemed—with not a word of Italian and no idea why Gianni had left or when he’d be back.
She tried to ask Lucia if he’d left a note but Lucia just shook her head, clearly not understanding. Smiling at Keelin apologetically, she seemed to make some more motions as if to say that Gianni would return.
When she’d bustled off again, Keelin decided to try his office in case he’d left a note there, but there was nothing but blank paper.
She sank down into his chair. Maybe this was it? She’d pushed him so far that he’d just left her here? So why didn’t that evoke some sense of satisfaction or triumph? A kind of hysteria bubbled up but she pushed it back down. But she couldn’t stop the edges of panic from gathering in the wings, ready to pounce and drag her back to her childhood.
Telling herself that he must have left momentarily and that there had to be some explanation, Keelin got up and forced herself to explore the villa. It was only when she returned about an hour later after having seen not another soul that the panic started to grip her in earnest.
Lucia couldn’t be found now. It didn’t even occur to Keelin to try and phone Gianni. He’d given her that card with his numbers when they’d met but she had no idea where it was now. And in any case her mobile phone battery was dead and she couldn’t find her charger.
She was entirely alone in this vast villa somewhere south of Perugia and as the day wore on with no sign of Gianni returning, Keelin wasn’t in Italy any more. She wasn’t twenty-three. She was back in her past, at some indeterminate age, and she knew that there was not one person in the world who cared remotely where she was. Or that she was alone.
And slowly, the walls that she’d so painstakingly built over the years started to crumble, because she’d sworn she’d never allow this to happen again.
* * *
As Gianni drove back to the villa late that night the anger he’d been feeling all day was still there. His eyes were gritty from fatigue, and frustration pounded like a pulse in his blood.
Damn her. His wife, who he should have bedded last night. His wife. He’d almost been tempted to stay in Rome for the night but some very unwelcome sense of guilt had stopped him. Even though he shouldn’t be feeling guilt.
When he thought of Keelin now though, all he could see in his mind’s eye were the lurid images from last night, and how feral he’d felt as he stood in front of her. How badly he’d wanted to just rip that dress apart completely, baring her to his gaze.
And then Keelin had spouted the latest lie from her pretty mouth. A virgin. Ha! Virgins were as extinct as the dodo as far as Gianni was concerned. He’d stopped believing in virgins right about the time that the sixteen-year-old girl he’d been in love with had said to him patronisingly, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. It’s your first time, isn’t it?’
The memory faded...last night he’d felt as if he was climbing an interminable mountain. He’d also felt raw and exposed in his desire for Keelin when she kept pulling back, denying her own desire. A shudder of disgust went through him, to have been reduced to something almost mindless. Again. It had been enough to make him leave, get some space.
He cursed softly as he drove into the forecourt of the villa. No lights shone. Irritation surged, along with a sense of panic at the thought that Keelin might have gone. Disappeared.
A faint sense of unease prickled over his skin. He got out of the jeep and went up the steps, opening the door, flicking on a light. There wasn’t a sound. But somehow Gianni sensed that she was here and something eased inside him, even as that irritation remained.
He took off his jacket and made his way up to the bedroom. It was dark up here too, and for a moment Gianni thought Keelin might be in bed asleep but then he saw a shape by the window.
He flicked on a light and Keelin was illuminated sitting in the window seat, legs drawn up under her chin, hair long and wild around her shoulders. And just like that, lust gripped him with a force that almost made him sway.
But something wasn’t right about the picture. She wasn’t moving. Gianni came further in. Feeling afraid now and not liking it, he rapped out, ‘Keelin?’
Slowly she turned to look at him and he sucked in a breath at how pale she was and how huge her eyes looked. And as he watched, she seemed to come back to life, emotion making those eyes flash and burn like bright jewels.
She got up from the seat and came straight over to him, and lashed out, landing a blow to his chest before he could deflect it. It had enough force to make him take a step back.
‘Don’t you ever, ever, leave me alone like this again. Do you hear me? Never.’
Gianni stared at her. The anger in her voice was palpable. She looked haunted. Not piqued that he’d left her for a day. Haunted.
He said slowly, ‘I would have thought that’s exactly what you wanted since the day we met.’
KEELIN MIGHT HAVE agreed with Gianni if being abandoned wasn’t her particular pyschological demon. Sensations were rushing into limbs that had been locked tight for hours, giving her shooting pains and pins and needles. Her hand throbbed from where she’d hit him. His chest was like a steel wall.
And worse, emotion was rising. Just to see him again. He’d come back. Damn him.
‘You said nothing.’ Keelin was accusing. ‘You didn’t even leave a note.’
Gianni’s jaw tightened. ‘I thought Lucia would tell you.’
Keelin let out a short harsh laugh. ‘Via sign language? I don’t speak Italian and she doesn’t speak English.’
‘You