Wish Upon A Star. Sarah Morgan
goodness for the children, she thought miserably as she opened her car door. Because of them, they wouldn’t have to spend time as a couple and clearly Alessandro didn’t consider them to be a couple any more.
She strolled over to him, glad of the cashmere jumper. It was cold. Significantly colder than London.
He was still hugging the children but their eyes met over the top of two dark little heads.
‘Christianne.’ His voice was cool, his handsome face blank of expression, and suddenly she wanted to leap at him and claw him just to get a reaction.
How could he seem so indifferent?
How could he call her Christianne in that smooth, formal tone when he only ever called her Christy?
After everything they’d shared—a fierce, perfect passion—how could he be so cold towards her?
‘Alessandro.’ Rat. Snake, she thought to herself. How could you do this to me? To us?
‘Good journey?’ He had a trace of a Spanish accent that he’d never lost despite the fact he’d lived in England for the past twelve years. She’d always loved his accent but suddenly it just seemed like a reminder of the differences between them.
‘Fine, thanks. Traffic was pretty heavy coming out of London, but I suppose that’s to be expected at this time of year. First day of the Christmas holidays.’ She almost winced as she heard herself talking. She sounded so formal. As if they were strangers rather than two people who had shared everything there had been to share for the last twelve years. Any moment now, they’d be shaking hands.
Fortunately Katy grabbed Ben and started to dance a jig. ‘No more school,’ she sang in a delighted voice. ‘No more vile, horrid school with demented, stinky, bullying teachers.’
But Alessandro wasn’t looking at the children. He was looking at her, with those hot, dark eyes that were a symbol of his Mediterranean heritage.
She saw his gaze slide down her body and rest on the high-heeled shoes; the shoes that had seemed so pretty in London and now felt utterly ridiculous with snow on the ground and the cold bite of winter in the air. In London, it hadn’t felt like winter. It had just felt wet and miserable. The shoes had cheered her up. Given her confidence. Reminded her that she was a woman.
Noting his disdainful glance, her confidence evaporated and she knew instinctively that he was thinking about all the people he’d had to rescue from the mountains because they’d been wearing ridiculous footwear. Suddenly she wanted to defend herself. To tell him that she wasn’t walking anywhere but that the shoes made her legs look good and she’d wanted him to notice.
Suddenly nervous and not understanding why, she waved a hand at the fells. ‘When did it snow?’
‘A week ago.’ His wry tone said it all and she looked back at him, noting the dark shadows under his eyes with a flash of surprise.
She knew that Alessandro had endless stamina. Why would he look tired?
‘I suppose you’ve been really busy, then.’ She almost laughed as she listened to herself. What a stupid thing to say. When was Alessandro ever not busy? Work was his life. As she’d discovered to her cost.
‘The weather isn’t helping.’ He strode over to her car and retrieved the cases from the boot. ‘I’m afraid I have to go back to the hospital after you’ve settled in.’
Katy groaned an instant protest. ‘Daddy, no!’
‘Sorry, niña.’ Alessandro stooped and dropped a kiss on his daughter’s head. ‘There are lots of staff off sick, but I’m sure they’ll be better soon. I’ll have more time next week and we’ll go climbing, that’s a promise.’
Christy frowned as she followed him into the barn. ‘You’re not taking her climbing in this weather, Alessandro.’
‘You used to climb in this weather.’ His sardonic gaze made her heart tumble.
They’d argued about it so many times. When they’d first met, she’d been young and reckless. He’d been fiercely protective. Possessive. Hadn’t wanted her out there in the mountains where danger might exist. And she’d teased him and gone anyway, loving the fact that he cared enough to want to stop her from doing anything remotely dangerous. Provoking him. Pushing him to the edges of patience.
‘Well, I don’t climb now.’ Her life was so safe and boring that it was enough to make her scream. She frowned at the thought. It was funny, she mused, how your lifestyle could change so gradually that you didn’t even notice it happening. One day you were hanging from a cliff by your fingernails and the next you were wading through a pile of ironing, listening to the radio.
How had it happened?
There’d been a time when she would have tugged on her walking boots and her weatherproof jacket and headed out into the hills without a backward glance. But all that had changed once the children had arrived.
Pushing aside the uncomfortable thought that her life was posing some questions she didn’t want to answer, she walked past him into the house. ‘Perhaps we’ll talk about it later.’ She tossed her hair out of her eyes. ‘When you eventually come back from the hospital.’
The atmosphere snapped tight between them and Christy cursed herself. She hadn’t intended to irritate or aggravate him. She’d wanted to be super-cool and indifferent in the same way that he was clearly indifferent to her.
If he wasn’t indifferent, he would have followed her to London and talked about their problems.
He would have dragged her home where she belonged.
But he seemed to hurt her at every turn. Even now, by going straight back to the hospital, by not wanting to be with her, he was hurting her.
His eyes narrowed, his mouth tightened and his shoulders tensed. ‘I’ll take the cases up to your room.’
He sounded like a hotel concierge, Christy thought miserably as they trailed their way upstairs. Showing her around. Any minute now he’d be wishing her a pleasant stay. She’d expected anger and hostility, but what she hadn’t expected was his coldness. She didn’t know how to deal with coldness.
The children ran ahead, whooping and shrieking, excited about seeing their rooms again, oblivious of the rising tension between the two adults.
Envious of their carefree, uncomplicated approach to life, Christy watched them go. ‘They’re so pleased to be here,’ she said softly, and Alessandro turned to her with something that was almost a growl.
‘Of course they are pleased to be here. It’s their home. They never should have left. And you never should have taken them!’
She inhaled sharply, shocked by the sharp stab of pain that lanced through her. He’d said that ‘they’ never should have left. He hadn’t said anything about her. He didn’t care about her. The only reason that he cared that she’d moved out was because he missed his children.
It was all about the children.
She felt a lump building in her throat and swallowed it down with an effort, reminding herself that she had to behave like an adult even though she wanted to break down and cry like a child.
‘You’re blaming me for this situation, Alessandro?’
‘You’re the one who decided to move out of the family home.’
It was only supposed to be temporary, she wanted to shout. You were supposed to come after me. But pride stopped her saying what she wanted to say. Pride and the knowledge that he hadn’t cared enough to come after her.
Her eyes blazed into his. ‘And that makes this my fault?’
‘I missed one lousy anniversary.’ His eyes flashed dark with frustration and he ran both hands through his hair. ‘And you walked out.’
Christy