The Millionaire Tycoon's English Rose

assuring Francesco that she could manage that little distance alone. It was half an hour before she returned, having got caught up in cheerful gossip.

‘There was a phone call for you,’ Francesco informed her. ‘A journalist wanting to know when you’d be ready to go skydiving. He says he has a space in the paper all ready, and it can be a good story, but it has to be you, not Sandro.’

‘What did you tell him?’ she asked.

‘I told him I thought you were free any time, and you’d call back tonight to fix the date.’

Astonishment held her silent, staring.

‘You told him I’d go skydiving?’ she echoed in disbelief.

‘Yes-and could you call him back quickly? Because he’s going out, and he wants to get it settled.’

He left the room abruptly, before his resolve weakened and he said what he really thought-that she must commit herself quickly before he broke down and begged her not to do it.

It was his mother who had given him the clue, saying, ‘Sometimes the only way you can show how much you love someone is to let them go.’

He’d heard the words without truly realising what they meant. Now he discovered the reality for himself, and it was terrible. Sweat stood out on his brow, and he had to call on all his stubbornness.

Stubbornness had never failed him before, he thought wryly.

After a while she came to find him.

‘Is it all settled?’ he asked with forced brightness.

‘Yes, I’m going tomorrow. But, Francesco, did you mean it?’

He managed a laugh. ‘It’s a bit late if I didn’t.’

‘But why?’

‘Does it matter why? I won’t fight you any more about anything you want to do. I give in. Do what you feel you must. I’ll see things your way.’ He added with light irony, ‘You’ll observe that I make better jokes about it these days.’

She wanted to cry out a protest at the pain she could sense beneath the wit. She didn’t want him to give in. That wasn’t his way. But neither did she know how she did want it to happen.

He increased her discomfiture a moment later when he said, ‘All those years of watching Toni with Hope have taught me a few things about graceful yielding.’

‘No,’ she said at once. ‘Not like that. You’re not Toni. He’s happy that way, but you never could be.’

‘You know your trouble?’ he said. ‘You don’t know how to accept winning.’

‘But-’

‘I’m hungry. How about something to eat?’

Francesco made it impossible for her to pursue the subject. Only when they were getting ready for bed did he say, ‘You can send your driver for tomorrow away. I’ll take you to the airfield myself.’

‘Is that really a good idea?’

‘You mean, you don’t trust me?’ he asked, as lightly as he could manage. ‘You think I’ll back off at the last minute?’

She had briefly wondered. But while she sought for an answer, he said softly, ‘I think I’ve earned better than that by now.’

‘Oh, darling!’ She reached for him. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean to suggest-’

‘Yes, you did,’ he said without resentment. ‘You always do. And maybe I deserved it once. But I’ve learned a lot. The trouble is, I don’t think you’ve noticed.’

‘Yes, I-’ She stopped as the truth of this hit her. She had noticed how much easier it was to relax with him these days, but only in a vague way. Preoccupied with herself, she had missed much that she should have seen.

‘Never mind,’ he said, drawing her close. ‘I’ll drive you down there tomorrow-if I may?’

‘I’d love you to come-if you’re sure you won’t get too upset.’

‘I won’t make any trouble,’ he said, interpreting her correctly.

Celia kissed him again and again, full of contrition and love and something that was more than either. She didn’t understand it at first, but then she sensed his heart beating against hers, so close together that it was one beat. And suddenly she felt everything that he was feeling-sadness, dread, the fear of losing her, but most of all the fear of offending her.

Pain for him was so intense that it almost deprived her of the power of speech. She could only murmur, ‘Darling, darling…’

But words weren’t enough. Only actions could express the depth of her love, and she tried to show him with ardour and tenderness.

That night their lovemaking was like never before. It was as though they were open to each other in new ways, speaking silently of secrets never shared.

The first time they had loved had been a night of discovery as they’d explored each other’s bodies and hearts. Now it was as though they were discovering each other again, with new intensity and sweetness, but also with a new knowledge that cast doubt over the future. The time was coming when a final decision must be made, and the thought of what that decision might be made every movement and caress mean a thousand times more.

When at last they lay quietly together, he whispered, ‘Promise to come back to me-until the next time.’

So he understood about the next time, and recognised that it was inevitable, she thought. That should be a help, but mysteriously it was a new source of pain.

‘Of course I’ll come back,’ she said. ‘I always do.’

He didn’t answer, and she reached out to caress his face, relishing the details, the high forehead and the strong jaw, the mouth with its unexpected sensitivity.

‘Darling?’ she murmured. ‘Darling?’

Then she realised that he had gone to sleep, his arms still about her, and she felt a curious sense of delight.

‘It’s all right,’ she whispered. ‘Just stay there. I’ll take care of you.’

She stroked his hair, relishing its springy feel in her hands, wondering at the surge of protectiveness that went through her.

Blind in one way, blind in another, she thought, condemning herself. If you can’t see other people it’s easy to forget their needs.

It would have been so easy to do the dramatic thing and tell him that she had changed her mind and would stay safely on the ground. But she knew she couldn’t do that. All her life she’d fought for her precious independence, wounding herself in the process, but never until now seeing the wounds of others. Even now something that was essential to her true self wouldn’t let her yield, though he’d generously shown her the way by yielding first. That was the truth of it.

And yet something had changed. Now she understood how much he was in her hands, how cruelly she could make him suffer-far more than he could ever inflict on her.

She leaned down, kissing him gently, not to awaken him.

‘Forgive me,’ she whispered. ‘Forgive me for what I can’t help.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

AS THEY drove to the airfield next morning Francesco asked lightly, ‘Why are you and Mamma thick as thieves these days?’

‘Not just us. Olympia and Polly, too, and Della, when she’s here instead of hunting backgrounds for her series. There’s a big party to be planned for the wedding anniversary.’

‘I’d forgotten. How many years is it?’

‘Thirty-five. Hope says she and Toni always celebrate in style, but this year it’s going to be special. It’s all being planned well in advance, so that everyone has time to get here, wherever in the world they live. It’s going to be the party to end all parties.’