Wish Upon a Star (18 page)

Remembering his preference, she left the straighteners in her drawer.

‘Mum?’ Katy slid off the bed and hesitated, suddenly looking less confident than usual. ‘Are we going back to London after Christmas?’

Christy froze. Were they? She honestly didn’t know. She wanted Alessandro to ask her to stay. She wanted him to give her some indication that he wanted her. Yes, he was angry that she’d left and taken the children, but that wasn’t the same as missing her, was it?

‘I don’t know,’ she said quietly, knowing that Katy was
old enough to deserve at least part of the truth. ‘I don’t know, sweetheart, but we’re trying to work everything out.’

Katy chewed her lip. ‘If I could only have one thing this Christmas, it would be you and Dad back together and living here like we always did.’

Christy felt her stomach turn. She’d stay, she told herself. Whatever happened, she’d stay for the sake of the children. How could she do anything else? Her own needs really didn’t matter, she told herself as she fixed a reassuring smile on her face and pulled her daughter into her arms.

‘You don’t have to worry,’ she whispered soothingly. ‘Everything is going to be fine for you.’

But would it be fine for her?

Only time could tell.

The casserole was cooked and she was mashing potatoes when she finally heard Alessandro’s key in the door.

‘Daddy!’ The children hurtled towards him and he lifted them both into a hug.

Watching from the kitchen door, Christy felt her heart turn over. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t be leaving, she told herself. She couldn’t deprive the children of their right to live with their father. But where did that leave her?

He lifted Ben into his arms, swung him round and then laid him on the rug and tickled him mercilessly while Christy laughed.

‘You’re getting him all wound up,’ she scolded, ‘and just before bedtime.’

‘Isn’t that what fathers are supposed to do?’ He straightened in a lithe, athletic movement and looked at her properly for the first time. His gaze slid slowly down her slender frame and then his eyes returned to hers.

‘I’m very tired,’ he drawled in a soft voice, stepping over
Ben and walking towards her. ‘I was thinking of an early night. Does that suit you?’

There was a wicked gleam in his eyes that made her heart miss a beat. ‘I’m pretty tired, too,’ she croaked, and Katy cleared her throat.

‘Well, before you both fall asleep, could you possibly feed us? We’re both starving.’

Christy dragged her eyes away from Alessandro’s burning gaze. ‘Oh, yes—dinner’s ready.’ Suddenly flustered, aware of his eyes on her, she hurried back into the kitchen and lifted the warmed plates from the oven. ‘Come on, then. Sit up.’

Suddenly she just wanted dinner to be over.

She wanted to be with Alessandro.

‘Daddy, will you read me a story?’

‘Of course.’ Alessandro smiled at Katy and then glanced at Christy. ‘Is that OK with you? Do you need help clearing up the kitchen?’

He hoped she’d say no. Clearing up the kitchen was his least favourite task and perhaps she knew that because she gave a smile and shook her head.

‘You go and read to the children. I’ll finish off here and meet you upstairs.’

Suddenly in the grip of a serious attack of lust, Alessandro had to force himself to follow his daughter into her pink, girly bedroom.

‘Just a quick story tonight,’ he muttered, as he scanned her bookshelves for something that had few pages. He wanted to be with Katy’s mother.

Katy reached for a huge fat book. ‘I’m reading this, but you don’t have to finish it so you can relax.’

Alessandro stared at the book and decided that if it fell on
someone’s foot, he’d be taking them to the operating theatre. ‘Well, that’s a relief.’

Katy snuggled into bed. ‘Have you bought Mum something for Christmas?’

Disturbed from his contemplation of how little he could get away with, Alessandro looked up. ‘Of course.’

‘Well, what is it?’

Alessandro frowned. ‘It’s a surprise. I can’t—’

‘Dad.’ Katy sat up and wrapped her arms round her knees. ‘You need to tell me what it is. Presents are important to women.’

‘Which is why I chose your mother something that I know she’s going to love,’ Alessandro said smugly, thinking of the box in his boot.

‘So?’ Katy looked at him expectantly, and Alessandro sighed.

‘All right, I’ll tell you but you’re not to tell your mother.’

Katy rolled her eyes. ‘I’m eleven, Dad. I know about secrets. It’s Ben that’s the blabbermouth around here, not me.’

Alessandro smiled. ‘All right—I’ve bought her a food processor.’

Katy stared at him in shocked silence. ‘You bought her
what
?’

‘A food processor.’ Alessandro shrugged. ‘You know—she uses it all the time and hers broke and—’

‘I know what a food processor is,’ Katy hissed, glancing towards the door to check that no one was listening, ‘but, Dad, that
isn’t a good present
.’

‘I bought the most expensive model in the shop.’

Katy shook her head frantically. ‘You have to get her something else, something that girls like.’

Wondering how he came to be sitting on a pink bedcover,
taking advice from his eleven-year-old daughter, Alessandro lifted an eyebrow. ‘Such as?’

‘Something more personal. Jewellery.’

‘I’ve never bought your mother jewellery. She doesn’t wear jewellery.’

‘Well, she can’t wear what you’ve never bought her,’ Katy pointed out logically, and Alessandro gritted his teeth.

‘It’s a waste of money.’

‘Dad, you’re totally loaded,’ Katy said scornfully. ‘What’s the point of having money if you don’t spend it?’

‘She doesn’t like jewellery.’

‘All right.’ Katy lay back on the pillow with a weary look on her face. ‘Give her the food processor and let’s see what happens.’

Alessandro hesitated and then leaned forward to kiss her. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said softly, ‘everything is going to turn out fine.’

‘Not if you give her a blender, it isn’t,’ Katy muttered, rolling onto her side and yanking the duvet up over her shoulders. ‘Our Christmas is going to be well and truly puréed. You might want to think about that before you wrap it up. When I grow up I’m going to write a book called
The Inner Workings of a Woman’s Mind
, and you’re going to be my first customer.’

It was a novelty, Alessandro mused as he strolled along to the master bedroom suite, to be told by his eleven-year-old daughter that he didn’t understand women.

Should he be amused or insulted?

Christy didn’t care about things that glittered, he told himself as he swiftly undressed and strolled towards the shower.

She cared about the things that mattered, like their relationship and the children.
Por Dios
—he hit the buttons on the shower and closed his eyes as hot water streamed over
his body—he’d married her so quickly that they hadn’t even bothered with an engagement.

And he spent money on the things that mattered. She had a beautiful house, a reliable car…

By the time he’d wrapped a towel round his waist and walked back into the bedroom, he’d convinced himself that he’d shown his love in any number of ways that truly mattered.

And then he saw Christy standing by the bed, lost in thought as she twisted the wedding band on her finger.

What was she thinking?
he wondered.

Suddenly his stomach gave a lurch. Was she thinking of taking it off? They still hadn’t had a conversation about their future and he was afraid to bring the subject up in case he precipitated the unthinkable.

Christy returning to London.

‘I bought you that ring in a tiny shop in the East End of London where we were working,’ he said quietly, and she glanced up quickly and smiled.

‘That’s right. We were in such a hurry, weren’t we?’

He studied her face for a long moment. Tried to read her mind. ‘Too much of a hurry,
querida
?’

For a moment she didn’t answer and then she gave a tiny shrug. ‘Maybe. We were young. We didn’t really think things through.’

Was she implying that, had she had time to think things through, she wouldn’t have married him?

Driven by an intense need to protect what was his and prove his love, Alessandro moved towards her and saw her eyes narrow and darken.

He recognised the look.

She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

With a rough oath, he crossed the room and brought his
mouth down on hers in a fierce kiss, forgetting that he’d vowed to give her space. He didn’t want to give her space. She was his. And he wanted her.

Now.

And she wanted him. He could tell from the way she responded to his kiss.

She was as hungry and desperate as he was.

With a tiny murmur she slid her hands down his back and he felt her fingers jerk on the towel that he’d hooked around his waist.

His mouth still on hers, he undressed her swiftly and then lifted her and lowered her onto the centre of the bed.

She was all silken flesh and warm woman, the subtle scent of her perfume casting a sensual spell that threatened his ability to operate on any level other than the most basic.

With a groan of pure, masculine possession, he covered her body with his, feeling soft curves meet hard muscle and relishing the differences between them. She looked delicate but he knew her to be strong and passionate. Knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. That she was as eager as he was.

His mouth feasted on hers and his hand slid down to the top of her thighs and lingered.

He trapped her sob with his mouth, felt her body writhe under his and used his fingers to touch her intimately.

Reminding himself that he’d planned to make love to her slowly, Alessandro tried to pull away and gain some semblance of control over his reactions, but she wrapped one leg over his and drew it upwards, urging him towards her.

Wondering why he suddenly had the restraint of a teenager, Alessandro slid a hand under her hips, lifted her and thrust deep. He felt her fingers dig hard into his waist, and he thrust again, muffling her sob with his kiss.

‘Por Dios
, you feel incredible,’ he said hoarsely, lifting
his mouth just enough to enable him to see her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright and fevered and her mouth was bruised from the pressure of his. And she’d never looked more beautiful.

He shifted his position and moved, knowing exactly how to drive her upwards towards the ultimate pleasure. Her eyes drifted shut and he slid a hand into her soft, silken hair.

‘Look at me,
querida
.’ He gave a soft groan and brought his mouth down on hers again.
Never had he had to work so hard to find the control he needed.
‘I want you to look at me.’

He didn’t know why it suddenly felt so important but it was, and perhaps she felt it too because her eyes opened and stared into his. And he saw everything there. Love. Passion.

Her fingers curled into his back and he saw her cheeks flush and her breath quicken and knew that she was close, but he held back, refusing to allow her the release she craved until he was ready.

So he slowed the rhythm and she groaned in protest and tried to shift her hips, tried to force the pace.

‘Alessandro.’ Her voice was a breathless whisper of desperation. ‘Please, oh, please…’

Deciding that they had the whole night ahead of them so control didn’t really matter that much, Alessandro drove deeper inside her and felt the sudden clench of lust as she gripped him.

And then he felt her body tighten around his and he ceased to think altogether as they reached the peak together in one long shower of erotic sensation that left them both breathless and unable to speak.

Christy lay with her eyes closed, feeling blissfully happy and content for the first time in months.

Alessandro loved her.

She knew he loved her.

The night hadn’t been about the children or staying together for the family. It had been about them as a couple. About expressing their love.

He still hadn’t told her that he wasn’t going to let her leave, but he would. She knew he would.

He was probably just being sensitive about bringing the subject up.

Tomorrow he’d tell her that she was staying in that arrogant, autocratic manner of his. She’d say yes.

And Christmas would be perfect.

Christy was making breakfast when the phone rang.

Before she could answer it, Alessandro strolled into the kitchen and picked up the handset. His eyes lingered on her flushed cheeks for a moment and then he gave a slow smile of masculine satisfaction and she blushed deeply.

Help, she thought as she turned back to the hob to stir the porridge. She was behaving like a teenager.

She was so lost in her own dreamy thoughts that she didn’t even listen to Alessandro’s conversation—didn’t even register that he was off the phone until he walked across the kitchen and poured himself a large mug of coffee.

‘That was your brother,’ he said, and his voice was so cold that she looked at him in alarm.

‘Is everything all right? Has something happened?’ A moment ago Alessandro had been looking at her as if he had every intention of skipping work and taking her back to bed. Now he looked remote and unapproachable and nothing like the man who’d made love to her all night.

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he said smoothly, ‘except that his other practice nurse has slipped on the ice and broken her wrist.
So he wonders if you’d consider coming back immediately after Christmas.’

Her heart flipped. Surely this was the moment when he was going to tell her that she had to stay,
that he wasn’t going to let her leave.

‘Well, I hadn’t thought about going that quickly…’ She hesitated, waited for him to interrupt her and tell her that she wasn’t going at all, but he stood still, studying her face with brooding intensity.

What was he thinking?

‘I’ll ring Peter back,’ she said quickly, ‘and chat about it.’

‘Fine.’ His mouth set in a grim line, Alessandro slammed his mug down on the table so hard that most of the liquid sloshed over the wood. Then he strode from the room, narrowly avoiding a collision with Katy, who was on her way to find breakfast.