She nodded slowly. ‘And I’d told you it was safe. I’m sorry.’
He shook his head, annoyed and exasperated by the whole conversation. He didn’t want to tread over this old ground yet again. He didn’t want to be reminded of how he used to be, either. He was different now—just not that different.
‘My point,’ Halina said after a moment, ‘Is that my pregnancy is what precipitated your proposal. How’s that for an alliteration?’ She gave him a teasing smile but Rico didn’t have it in him to respond in kind.
His fury was fading, replaced by a far more alarming confusion as he realised that Halina was right, at least in part. He never would have married her if she hadn’t been pregnant. He never even would have seen her again. It was blindingly obvious, but it didn’t sit well with him. At all.
‘I should go back to my own bed,’ Halina said, starting to rise. Rico stayed her with one hand.
‘You’ll sleep here.’
Even in the darkness of the room he saw the surprise flash across her face. ‘I thought you never slept with a woman—’
‘You’re going to be my wife,’ Rico interjected fiercely. ‘And we’ll sleep together from now on. It’s time,’ he added, drawing her towards him so she was nestled snugly against his chest, ‘That we started to plan the wedding.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘THIS DRESS IS very discreet.’ The sales assistant gave Halina a knowing smile as she gestured to a gorgeous dress of ivory satin with a convenient empire waist to hide Halina’s small but growing bump. She was fifteen weeks pregnant and only just starting to show.
It had been three weeks since she and Rico had re-consummated their relationship, three weeks of virtually living as man and wife, even if they weren’t going to say the vows for another fortnight. Three happy, hopeful yet so uncertain weeks, and with every passing day Halina felt more and more anxious.
She had spent every night in Rico’s bed, as well as in his arms. He was a tender and attentive lover, awakening her body to sensations and desires she’d never experienced before.
As she’d grown in experience, she had also grown in confidence, daring to touch and explore his body as he did hers. It had brought an intense intimacy that left Halina breathless with longing for Rico to feel the same as she did...even as she forced herself to acknowledge that he didn’t, he couldn’t, not when he’d gone through a woman a week for most of his adult life. Sex was just a physical exercise for him, not the emotional, soul-shattering experience it had become for her.
As for out of bed... Rico was attentive then, too. Solicitous to her every need and comfort—often coming home with some treat she’d been craving, accompanying her to her doctor appointments and helping with the planning of their wedding which, according to the city’s tabloids and gossip magazines, was going to be the event of the year.
Halina wasn’t sure how she felt about that; in the weeks since that first, awful party they’d gone out on several social occasions and she’d managed to hold her head up high, despite several women’s sneering looks and whispering comments.
‘They’re just jealous,’ Rico said blandly, and Halina had laughed.
‘That’s a rather arrogant comment, you know.’
‘But it’s true.’ And she knew it was.
As the wedding loomed closer, she veered between excitement and a growing terror. Excitement because part of her was looking forward to being part of a family again, to starting a new life with Rico. She’d enjoyed these last few weeks with him, more than she’d ever expected to, but the terror came from the creeping fear that it wasn’t enough and it never would be.
His care, his solicitude, his thorough attentiveness in bed—none of it would be enough, because he didn’t love her. He’d made that very clear in a thousand painful ways. He would never love her, and she had to accept that, learn to live with it, because she had no choice. As much freedom as she felt she had now, she still lived under the worst restriction of all.
‘Would you like to try it on?’ the assistant asked, and Halina nodded, needing a distraction from her circling and increasingly unhappy thoughts. She also needed a wedding dress; the church and reception hall had been booked, the meal planned, the champagne ordered and the guests, all six hundred of them, invited. Although she’d been looking for a while, she hadn’t yet found a dress she liked—and it was getting late.
Halina went into the dressing room and slipped into the empire-waist dress. The bodice shimmered with crystal jet and diamanté, and the skirt fell in a drop of exquisite ivory satin, swirling around her ankles. It was simple and elegant and, as the assistant said, very discreet.
Halina tried to picture herself walking down the aisle in the huge church and inwardly trembled. She’d be walking alone; her father had refused to attend the wedding, or let her mother or sisters attend. Their absence made her relationship with Rico feel even lonelier and more lacking. He was all she had in the world, and he didn’t love her.
‘What does signorina think?’ the assistant called, and Halina gazed at her pale face, her wide dark eyes.
‘It’s fine,’ she called back tonelessly. ‘Perfect. I’ll take it.’
Her fingers shook as she fumbled with the hook-and-eye fasteners at the back of the dress. What was wrong with her? She’d been happy these last three weeks; she really had. There had been so much to enjoy, and yet...
Marriage. A loveless marriage. For ever. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool mirror. Why did it matter so much? Why did it make her ache so?
‘Signorina?’ The assistant peeked through the curtain and Halina jerked back, embarrassed to be caught looking as if she were about to fall apart.
‘I’ll be straight out.’
The woman smiled sympathetically. ‘Everyone gets cold feet, no? It is normal.’