St Piran's: Italian Surgeon, Forbidden Bride (14 page)

BOOK: St Piran's: Italian Surgeon, Forbidden Bride
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His breath caught. ‘I
have
to kiss you,’ he whispered roughly.

A tremor ran through her but she didn’t move away. His hands fisted in her hair as he closed the gap millimetre by millimetre, his heart thudding a rapid tattoo. Finally, their lips met. He felt heady with excitement and yet incredibly nervous as he kissed her for the first time.

They were both tentative, finding their way, learning, savouring, exploring, but the passion quickly flared out of control. Jessica’s lips parted and he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. She tasted like heaven. Sweet and sensual, and so addictive. He couldn’t get his fill of her. Tongues met, stroked, tempted, and he heard her soft, needy whimper as she clung to him. One hand left her hair and he wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her into him as he stepped up between her parted thighs. She wriggled closer, pressing herself against him.

Jessica was with him, taking and giving, meeting and matching the blaze of passion that flared so intensely between them, demanding more. Gio was all too aware when instant panic set in and she began to withdraw. With a sharp cry she pulled away from him, clearly distressed.

‘What is it,
fiamma?’
he asked between ragged breaths, confused and concerned as tears spilled from eyes full of torment. ‘What’s wrong?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. So sorry. I can’t do this.’

Before he could respond, she pushed away from him, slipped awkwardly off the stool and ran. He heard her footsteps on the stairs and, moments later, the sound of her bedroom door closing. What the hell had happened? Running an unsteady hand through his hair, he took a moment to gather himself together and get his body, so unused to the fiery passion that had ignited between them, back under control.

No way could he leave Jessica in such a distressed state. He wanted to know what had gone wrong, but more important was his concern for her well-being. After checking the house was secure and the kittens were settled, he finished making the hot chocolate and carried two mugs upstairs, anxious about what he might find. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

‘Jessica?’

There was silence for several moments, a silence that hung so heavily around him that he could hear each beat of his heart. ‘Yes?’ The word was so soft that had he not been listening so intently he would not have heard her.

Cautiously, he opened the door. Dressed now in unflattering but comfortable pyjamas, Jessica was sitting in the middle of the bed, her arms wrapped around herself as she rocked slightly to and fro. She looked so lost, vulnerable and scared that his heart, which he’d thought could never feel anything again, squeezed with pain for her… and such deep affection and longing he didn’t dare examine the emotions too deeply.

‘May I come in?’ His heart was in his mouth as he waited for her decision.

She didn’t meet his gaze, but finally she nodded. He
sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to crowd her. He handed her a mug, noting that her hands were shaking as she reached for it, but she cupped it in her palms and sipped, a soft sigh escaping as she savoured the thick, chocolaty treat.

Gio followed her lead, hoping she would begin to relax. She even managed the ghost of a smile when he handed her a teaspoon so she could copy him and capture the final bits of chocolate.

‘Good?’ he asked, nearly having heart failure as her tongue peeped out and she licked the remains of chocolate from her lips.

‘Amazing.’ Her voice was still soft but sounded stronger. Popping the spoon in the empty mug, she handed it to him. ‘Thank you.’

Gio set the mugs aside, feeling a growing tension now the moment had come to seek answers to some questions.

‘Jessica, we need to talk.’ Once more she wrapped her arms around herself, lashes lowering to hide her expression, but not before he had seen the fear in her eyes. ‘I need to know. I know you guard your personal space and avoid being touched. At first I thought it was me, then I noticed it was the same with everyone. Including your clever ruse using all that stuff you carry round the hospital so you can avoid shaking hands.’

The blush that brought colour back to her too-pale cheeks was confirmation that he was right.

‘My imagination is running away with itself. I’m scared to ask but… has someone hurt you in the past?’ He could hardly get the words out but knew he had to. ‘Were you raped or abused?’

‘No.’

The denial was firm and he knew she was telling the truth. The relief was
huge.
But there was still something major and important. He knew it. She looked so alone, and the despair and hurt in her eyes tore him apart.

‘May I hold you, Jessica… please?’

She raised her head and met his gaze. What she was searching for, he had no idea, but whatever it was, she apparently found it as, after the longest time, she bit her lip and nodded. The air trapped in his lungs was released in a rush of relief. He moved onto his knees and edged towards her, needing the physical contact as much as she did. When he was as close as could be, he sat back on his heels and drew her into his arms with infinite care, cradling her tense and shaking form against him.

As she gradually began to relax, she rested her head against his chest. With one hand he stroked the unrestrained glossy copper-red curls as they tumbled with abandon around her shoulders.

‘Can you talk to me now?’ A breath shuddered out of her in response. Her casual shrug belied the tension that poured from her and the tremble he felt ripple through her whole body. ‘Jessica?’

‘I don’t know. I…’

The whispered words were husky with emotion and he sought to discover the cause of her hesitation and reluctance. ‘What worries you,
fiamma?
Do you think I won’t understand? Do you fear it will change how I think of you and feel about you?’

‘I know it will,’ she responded, the humourless laugh and bitter edge to her voice speaking volumes.

‘Listen to me,’ he instructed gently, seeking the words to reassure her. ‘I don’t know what experiences you’ve had with other people, but
nothing
you tell me will make
me turn away or reject you.’ Whatever route their relationship eventually took, he was unable to envisage any circumstance that would change the basic friendship and bond that had formed so quickly but so intensely between them. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. ‘Trust me. I won’t let you down.’

The sincerity in Gio’s voice was beyond question but Jess still hesitated. He might believe
now
that nothing would make him reject her but would he feel the same when he knew?

She recalled Luca’s words. He’d advised her to give Gio a chance, pointing out that only by confiding in him would she discover the depth of his friendship and the kind of man he really was. Deep in her heart she knew. And she
so
wanted to believe. But her former friends and colleagues had turned her away and her family had disowned her.

The last few weeks with Gio had been the happiest she had known for such a long time and she was terrified that revealing the truth about herself would change for ever the nature of their friendship, maybe even end it. She didn’t want to lose what she already had, but every day things were becoming more complicated because her heart and emotions were ever more entangled and it was no longer enough just to be his friend.

Those moments in the kitchen when she had allowed herself to wallow in the pleasure of being touched, followed by the most explosive and incredible kiss she had ever known, had proved that. He had breached her defences so completely and she’d been so lost in Gio and her desire for him that she’d forgotten why she shouldn’t have been doing it. Reality had hit like a thunderclap and
she’d run. They’d crossed the boundaries of friendship now. And in reaching for more, would she destroy what she already had?

She wouldn’t know the answer unless she did as Gio asked and trusted him. Cocooned in his embrace she felt safe and protected and, for the first time in over four years, she didn’t feel alone. She sucked in a deep breath, inhaling the warm musky-male scent of him that had become so familiar. And arousing. Drawing back just far enough, she looked up and met his steady, intensely blue gaze. While the arm supporting her cuddled her close, his free hand caught one of hers, raising it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her palm before he entwined their fingers, linking them and giving her his support.

‘I don’t know where to start,’ she admitted with a nervous laugh, feeling sick inside now the decision was made and the moment had come to share her shameful secret.

‘Take your time. I’m not going anywhere,’ he promised. ‘Is it something that goes back to the time before you came to St Piran?’

‘Yes. It started just over four years ago when I was still in Scotland,’ she admitted, closing her eyes as the memories flooded back. She paused, unsure if she could continue, but Gio’s support and strength gave her the courage to face what had to be faced. ‘I was working in a hospital there,’ she explained, ignoring for now the information about her former career. ‘I was living with my fiancé, Duncan. He was my first and only proper boyfriend. I was happy. I thought I had everything I wanted, and I was busy planning the wedding, which was only eight weeks away.’

As Jessica gathered her thoughts, Gio struggled with the unreasonable jealousy that assailed him at the knowledge she had been in love and about to be married, already disliking the man she spoke of without knowing any more about him. But he hid his reaction, needing to give her all his understanding now that she had done him the honour of trusting him. He couldn’t?wouldn’t?let her down.

‘Did Duncan work at the hospital, too?’ he asked, keeping his tone neutral.

‘No. He worked for a company that supplied equipment and aid for relief charities out in the field and his job took him all over the world. He was away a lot. I missed him, but I supported what he did.’

He was unsurprised by her selflessness and the sacrifices she’d no doubt made. ‘It’s not easy maintaining a relationship long distance.’

‘No.’ Another shiver ran through her and he tightened his hold, wanting to protect her from the hurt she was reliving. ‘I hadn’t been feeling well for a while,’ she continued, and his concern for her increased. ‘There was nothing specific I could put my finger on, and I put it down to the pressures of work and the excitement and lack of sleep as the wedding drew closer. Duncan had to take several trips away during those weeks and so everything fell to me. A colleague noticed how off colour I was and suggested I see a doctor. I didn’t think anything of it, but because I wanted to feel right for the wedding, I made an appointment to see my GP.’

Gio felt his gut tightening with the premonition that something dark and of huge importance was about to be revealed. Looking into green eyes shadowed with fear and pain, it was the dart of shame that confused
him. He raised their joined hands, pressing a kiss to her fingers.

‘What happened,
fiamma?’
he prompted.

‘My GP didn’t think there was anything serious going on, but he organised some tests to be on the safe side. And…’She halted, her voice breaking, tears shimmering on long sooty lashes.

Gio steeled himself for whatever was to come. ‘And?’

‘The results came back.’ A sob tore through her, ripping him to shreds. ‘It t-turned out that D-Duncan hadn’t been the f-faithful, loving fiancé I’d imagined,’ she continued, the words stuttering through her tears. ‘He’d slept with countless women during his trips abroad and thanks to him I h-have a lasting legacy. The tests, unlike Duncan, didn’t lie. I…’Again she broke off, drawing in a shuddering breath, her fingers instinctively tightening on his as she raised her head, tear-washed eyes bleak. ‘Gio, I was… am… HIV positive.’

CHAPTER NINE

‘Madre del Dio.’

The words escaped on a whisper of breath when all Gio wanted to do was rage and swear at the man who had done this to Jessica. He listened as she told him how she had been diagnosed with a seroconversion illness and although it was not his branch of medicine, he knew enough to understand that this was often the first sign of illness people had after they had been infected, when the body first produced antibodies to HIV.

‘I had many of the usual symptoms… a fever, aching limbs, headache and a blotchy red rash… which could have been linked to a variety of conditions,’ she explained, the matter-of-fact tone of her voice belied by the shadows in her eyes. ‘It was such a shock and not something I had ever anticipated.’

‘Of course not. You trusted the man you were about to marry,’ Gio reasoned.

She nodded, and he tightened his hold as a fresh shudder went through her. ‘I must be a really bad person because I can’t forgive him—not just for what he did to me but I keep thinking about the unknown number of other women out there he infected, as well, and what
they might be going through. I can’t even feel sorry that he was diagnosed, too,’ she whispered.

‘No, no, no! You are not remotely a bad person! How can you think that?’ Gio swore in Italian, wishing he could let Duncan know what he thought of him. ‘You are an amazing woman, Jessica. Even struggling to come to terms with what has happened to you, through no fault of your own, your thoughts are still for other people. You have the generosity of spirit to worry about the women with whom your ex-fiancé—’ he stumbled over the word, choked by his anger and disgust at the man ‘—had been unfaithful.’

‘It wasn’t their fault. I’ve no doubt he lied to them, too.’

‘And now,’ he made himself ask, needing to know so much but anxious not to stress her more, ‘how are you? Are you taking medication?’

‘I’m OK. And I’m not taking medication yet,’ she told him, and the relief was immense. ‘I have regular tests to monitor my CD4 cell count, which gives an idea of the strength of my immune system. And a viral load test, which can tell how active HIV is in the body. It’s only if those levels reach a certain point that medication will be necessary. It’s a big step to take because once started, you can’t stop. I go to London twice a year to see a specialist,’ she added, surprising him.

BOOK: St Piran's: Italian Surgeon, Forbidden Bride
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