She tensed as she heard a firm tap on her bedroom
door and Lorenzo calling out, 'I’ve ordered you some
supper. I’ll bring it in for you.'
It was too late to tell him that she didn’t want it.
He was already opening the door and pushing a
heavily laden trolley into the room.
'It’s just a cold salad and a pot of tea. I remember
you said you liked to drink tea when you had a headache.
Or is your pain that of a heartache?' he asked
her dryly.
Jodie bit her lip and struggled to sit up, whilst holding
on to the protective cover of the bedding. Taking
a deep breath, she said huskily, 'Lorenzo, I haven’t
thanked you yet for…for…for supporting me with
what you said to Louise.'
'You are my wife. When it comes to the validity
of our marriage being questioned, naturally you have
my support. Equally naturally, I could not allow that
foolish woman to make her ridiculous accusations unchecked.'
Jodie shook her head. 'We both know it wasn’t
your idea that we should come here.'
'No, it was yours, because you wanted to see your
ex-fiance.. You are better off without him, you know,'
he told her coolly. 'The impression I gained from the
people I spoke with is that he is a rather weak and
shallow young man, very much still dominated by his
mother.'
'Louise’s family are quite well off, and I suppose
that, coupled with Sheila's concerns about my health,
would have made her think Louise would be a better
wife for John — not that I want him. He means nothing
to me now. I can see him for what he is, and I think
I’m lucky not to be marrying him.'
Lorenzo frowned. 'You sound as though you really
mean that.'
'I do. I’d stopped loving him before I left England.
Coming back has just confirmed what I already
knew.' In more ways than one, she admitted, but of
course she couldn’t tell Lorenzo that coming back and
seeing John had shown her just how strong her love
for Lorenzo was compared with the feelings she had
once thought she had for John. She still had her pride,
and that pride was stinging badly now from Louise’s
attack on her.
She chewed on her bottom lip and then said unhappily,
'I should have realised that people would
guess that our marriage isn’t real and that you Don’t
want me.' She laughed a little wildly. 'I suppose I
must have ''unwanted virgin'' written all over me,
what with my leg, and—'
'What nonsense is this?' Lorenzo demanded, putting
down the cup of tea he had been pouring for her
and coming over to stand beside the bed.
'It isn’t nonsense,' Jodie persisted miserably. 'John
rejected me because of my leg, and It’s because of it
that I’m still a virgin. I hate knowing that other people
pity me, and…and look down on me because of it,'
she told him fiercely. 'And I just wish that…'
'That what?'
'That when Louise looked at me she had seen a
true woman.'
Lorenzo sat down on the bed next to her.
'If that is really what you want, it is achieved easily
enough,' he told her smokily. 'Because, far from sharing
your idiotic ex-fiance.'s opinion, I happen to desire
you very much.'
Jodie swallowed and squeaked uncertainly,
'You…you do?'
'Yes. And, what’s more, I’m more than willing to
prove it to you. We’ve got tonight,' Lorenzo told her.
'And if you wish tomorrow you can witness their
wretched marriage with all the bloom of a woman
whose sexual curiosity has been answered and whose
sexual hunger has been satisfied.'
Lorenzo was offering to make love to her?
A little apprehensively, she wetted her lips with her
tongue tip. 'But…but before you said that we
couldn’t because—'
'The hotel management here are most forward
thinking.'
When Jodie looked puzzled he explained, 'There is
a pack of condoms with the other toiletries they have
supplied.'
'Oh. Oh, I see…'
'The choice is yours,' Lorenzo told her.
His willingness to have sex with her meant nothing
in any real sense, Jodie knew. It was sex he was offering
her, that was all. Not the love she longed for,
and certainly not the future and the permanence. But
still she wanted what he was offering.
Jodie swallowed hard and looked at him.
'Then I choose to say yes.'
When he got up off the bed and walked away from
her all she could think was that the pain was a million
times worse, in a million different ways, than it had
been when John had walked away from her. But then
she saw that instead of going to the door Lorenzo had
stopped beside the trolley. He had removed a bottle
of champagne from an ice bucket and was opening it
