Page 31 of Back to Claim His Italian Heir

But you can’t make him love you, so don’t even try.

The reminder was painful but necessary. As long as she kept everything in perspective, Emma told herself, she’d be okay. She’d be safe—from the dangerous treacheries of her own heart.

‘Pity I didn’t get to show you the bedroom,’ Nico murmured as he stepped closer to her, his breath tickling her ear. ‘But I will later.’

Was that a promise? Before she could reply, he continued, his voice low, ‘That part of our relationship is not in doubt, Emma, but we’ll resume it only when you’re ready to. You can be assured of that. I have no interest in pressuring you in that way.’

More consideration and kindness. Tears stung her eyes, even as her body still tingled. She was on emotional overload, and it was dangerous. Frightening. Emma drew a steadying breath.

‘Thank you,’ she said, and he let his fingers skim her cheek one last time, so she struggled not to close her eyes, lean into the caress.

‘Although I must admit I hope it’s sooner rather than later,’ he told her, his voice a wry rumble. ‘Because you’re just about killing me here.’

She let out another unsteady laugh and then followed him out of the study to the main cabin, where they took their seats.

Nico gazed out of the window of the plane at the stretch of azure sky and felt a glow of satisfaction deep inside—as well as a very muchunsatisfiedache of longing. That would be dealt with in time, he was sure, and very pleasurably so. He had no doubts about that. He just needed to wait for Emma to feel as ready as he was.

He had come to realise a few things about his wife over the last few days, as well as remembering their month together from before. Things that, taken individually, hadn’t struck him overmuch, but now which were starting to come together to form a whole, surprising picture.

Yesterday the OB had told him that Emma had not had many of her childhood vaccinations, and her check-up had revealed a few worrying details—a wrist broken as a small child that hadn’t been set properly and so had healed at a slightly awkward angle, something he noticed now as she sat across from him, one elbow propped on the arm rest, her gaze distant and thoughtful. There was a bump where her wrist met her hand, small and virtually unnoticeable, unless you were looking for it, which he was.

‘I’m telling you these things, first of all, because Emma herself gave me permission to share her medical details with you,’ the OB had said. ‘Otherwise, of course, I would not be saying a single word. But also because she has clearly not had proper medical care for long stretches of time in her life, and I want to make sure she gets that care now.’

‘She will, absolutely,’ Nico had replied, his voice gruff, his mind reeling from other things the OB had said—that Emma had shown signs of childhood malnourishment; that there were scars on her leg that could be cigarette burns.

‘She didn’t use the word abuse,’ the OB had said, ‘when she was talking to me, but clearly there were elements of it in her childhood. I trust she will be safe with you.’

‘On my life,’ Nico had promised. ‘On mylife.’

Now he turned from his view of the sky to Emma, curled up across from him. ‘It’s eleven hours from here to Rome,’ he said, ‘so this might be as good a time as any to get to know one another.’

The look Emma gave as she turned to him was definitely wary. Just like him, she didn’t enjoy talking about her childhood, herself, and he was starting to understand why. Nico relaxed back into his seat. ‘But first let me get you something to drink, eat.’

A small smile quirked her mouth. ‘You’re always feeding me, it seems.’

‘I like feeding you, and you need fattening up.’ He pressed a discreet button in the armrest of his seat and Enrico came swiftly into the main cabin.

‘Signor Santini?’

Nico glanced at Emma. ‘What would you like?’

She shrugged, laughing. ‘I don’t even know. Umm...some crackers?’

‘That’s it?’ Nico couldn’t keep from sounding disapproving, and she rolled her eyes.

‘And some cheese.’

‘What kind?’

‘What kind do you have?’

‘This plane is well stocked, Emma. We pretty much have whatever you want.’

She laughed softly. ‘It’s going to take me a while to get used to this. Okay, I’ll have some Cheddar then, please.’ She glanced at Enrico. ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure, Signora Santini.’

He left the room while Emma shook her head slowly. ‘Signora Santini. I’m going to have to get used to that.’