Wish Upon a Star (7 page)

‘No, I don’t, I—’

His mouth came down on hers with seductive intent and immediately she sank against him because no one kissed like Alessandro and resisting him was impossible. His hand was buried in her hair, the skilful slide of his tongue erotic and demanding as he took her to the edge of sanity with a speed that shocked her.

His kiss was hungry and primitive and she clutched at him, pressing against him, her need so intense that she forgot everything except her desire for him.

Kissing him gave her the reassurance she needed and then he released her and stepped back, his expression cold. ‘The children need both their parents. We’re a family, Christy, and that isn’t going to change.’

The tiny flicker of hope died inside her. ‘Alessandro—’

‘We won’t ever speak of divorce again, Christy. And don’t pretend you don’t want me.’

Oh, she wanted him.
How could she pretend otherwise when her nipples were pressing hard against the soft fabric of her scrub suit and her mouth was still swollen from the ravages of his kiss?

She wanted him. But how did she explain that she needed more than the physical when his solution to every problem was sex? He was a red-blooded, Mediterranean male with a high sex drive. She’d known that right from the first.
Had loved the fact that he couldn’t get enough of her.

And the fact that he’d made it clear that his thoughts were only for the children caused her intense pain. The kiss hadn’t been about her, she thought miserably. It had been about the children. Alessandro was Spanish, through and through. He believed utterly in the sanctity of the family.

He would stay married to her for the sake of the children.

Could she do the same? Could she stay with him, knowing that he didn’t love her any more?

‘We can’t talk about this here, Alessandro,’ she croaked. ‘Not now.’

His eyes dropped to her mouth and the tension rose between them.

‘When, then?’

‘I don’t know.’ She felt so shaky and miserable that she didn’t feel up to another confrontation. Didn’t feel up to listening to more evidence that he was determined to save their marriage for the sake of the children.

‘Well, it has to be soon.’ He was standing close to her. So close that her heart rate increased alarmingly.

Was it normal? she wondered. Was it normal to be married to someone for twelve years and yet still want to rip their clothes off at every opportunity?

‘I need to go home and prepare dinner,’ she said huskily as she dragged off her gloves and washed her hands, seeking
any excuse to turn away from him. ‘Mum’s dropping the children in an hour. Are you joining us?’

She expected him to tell her that he was staying at the hospital but as she risked a glance at him she collided with his hard, unyielding gaze.

‘Sí.’
His Spanish accent was more pronounced than usual. ‘I’m joining you,
querida
. I want to eat dinner with my children. Why wouldn’t I?’

The children.

It was all about the children, she thought dully as she washed her hands and walked out of the room.

As a couple, they didn’t exist any more.

Checking that her parents were still seated at the dining table, Katy grabbed her brother’s hand and dragged him upstairs and into the spare bedroom. ‘It’s time to interfere.’

‘What’s interfere?’ Ben started playing with his toy aeroplane and Katy snatched it away from him and held it out of reach.

‘Interfere is when you try and help someone do something they should be doing for themselves.’ She threw the aeroplane onto a chair and grabbed his hand. ‘Come on. We’re going to bounce on the bed.’

Ben tried to jerk his hand away from hers. ‘I was playing with my aeroplane.’

Katy rolled her eyes. ‘You can play with it again in a minute, but for now we’re going to bounce.’

Ben eyed the bed doubtfully. ‘We’re not supposed to jump on the beds.’

‘And when has that ever stopped you?’

‘I’ll get into trouble with Mum.’

‘And if you don’t do it, you’ll get into trouble with me,’ Katy informed him sweetly. ‘Take your pick.’

‘I do like bouncing.’ Ben looked at the wide bed with something close to yearning. ‘Come on, then. Just a quick one. How hard do you want me to bounce?’

‘Just hard enough to break it,’ Katy muttered under her breath, slipping off her shoes. ‘I’ll help you. Come on.’ And she leapt into the middle of the bed and started jumping, her dark ponytail flying around her shoulders as she leaped higher and higher.

Ben gave a delighted giggled and climbed up next to her.

‘Come on.’ She grabbed his hands and encouraged him to bounce, too.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Christy and Alessandro were finishing their meal in tense silence when there was an enormous crash above them, followed by a plaintive yell.

‘Oh, no.’ Driven by her maternal instincts, Christy was out of her seat and up the stairs in record time, Alessandro right behind her.

In the bedroom they found Ben sobbing noisily on the carpet and Katy with her arms around him. She looked up when her parents entered. ‘Poor Ben. He bounced on the bed and…’ she gave a baffled shrug, her expression both innocent and mystified ‘… it must have broken or something. Unbelievable, the rubbish they sell you these days.’

‘The bed broke?’ Christy looked at the collapsed bed in horror and disbelief. ‘Oh, my goodness. It looks as though the frame has snapped right through. How did you—?’ And then she saw the blood on Ben’s cheek and dropped to her knees. All the training in the world didn’t prepare you properly for coping when your own child was injured, she thought frantically. ‘You’re bleeding. Alessandro, he’s bleeding.’

‘I see it.’ Calm and steady, Alessandro scooped his son into his arms and swept the aeroplane and Christy’s
clothes off the chair so that he could sit down. ‘What’s happened to you?’

‘Katy told me to bounce,’ Ben hiccoughed, his face blotched with crying, ‘so I bounced, but when the bed broke I fell off and banged myself. It hurts.’

‘Where did you bang yourself?’ Alessandro ran strong fingers over the little boy’s arms and legs, hunting for damage—trying to find the source of the bleeding. He found it on the boy’s palm. ‘It’s fine. Just a scratch. He must have run his hand over his cheek. That’s why he has blood on his face.’

Christy stood there, heart thumping, relieved that Alessandro was there. She’d always been a wreck inside when either of the children had been ill or injured. She suddenly realised how much she’d missed his strength.

Still cuddling Ben, Alessandro threw a frowning glance at the bed. ‘That’s well and truly broken. You won’t be sleeping there tonight.’

Christy gave a tiny frown and turned to Katy. ‘I’ll have Ben’s room. Your brother can share with you.’

‘No way!’ Katy shrank back, her face a picture of exaggerated sibling horror. ‘He snores, fidgets and talks in his sleep. No way am I sleeping with a monster baby like him.’

Ben clutched at the front of Alessandro’s shirt and scowled at his sister. ‘I’m
not
a baby!’

Christy sighed. ‘Katy, there’s no other option.’

‘Yes, there is. If there’s sharing to be done, you can jolly well share with Dad. At least you’re married. I’m
not
sharing with my brother! That’s totally gross.’ And she stomped out of the room, ponytail swishing like a statement.

Alessandro stared after her with an expression of blatant masculine incomprehension. ‘Is she hormonal?’

Christy rubbed her aching forehead. ‘Hardly. She’s eleven years old.’

‘She’s acting like a teenager.’

‘She’s going through a difficult phase. She’s…’ Her eyes met his and the words tailed off. They both knew that if Katy was going through a difficult stage, it was probably their fault. Christy’s hand fell to her side. ‘On top of everything else, I suppose it isn’t exactly fair for her to have to share with her brother. She is getting to an age where privacy is important,’ she murmured, and Alessandro nodded agreement.

‘You can use our bedroom. I’ll take the sofa downstairs.’

Christy felt the heavy punch of disappointment deep inside her but smiled. ‘That’s very decent of you. Thanks.’

She didn’t care, she told herself. She didn’t care that he obviously couldn’t face the thought of sharing a room with her, let alone a bed.
She didn’t care that he’d rather sleep on the sofa than be with her.

Once, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. They’d been like greedy, naughty teenagers seizing every opportunity to rip each other’s clothes off and feast. Now it seemed as if they couldn’t create enough distance.

‘How will Father Christmas come if Daddy’s sleeping downstairs?’ Ben’s anxious voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘We all know that he can’t come if anyone is there to see him.’ The sweet innocence of his question made her heart twist.

‘I… er… He…’ Christy fumbled for an answer that might work, casting a desperate look at Alessandro.

‘I’ll keep my eyes tightly shut for the whole night?’

Ben shook his head, his expression solemn. ‘That won’t work. If you’re awake, he knows.’

‘Well, Daddy’s under a lot of strain at the moment,’ Alessandro growled, ‘so I’m sure I’ll be asleep.’

Was he under strain? He always looked infuriatingly cool and relaxed, Christy mused as she studied his handsome face for clues. Perhaps those dark, brooding eyes were a little more shadowed than usual and the sexy mouth a little more grimly set.

The strain of having her to stay, she thought miserably.

He was only tolerating her because of the children. Everything he did was because of the children.

‘That’s settled, then,’ Christy said brightly. ‘Daddy will sleep on the sofa. Now, let’s get you into bed. It’s getting late.’

She woke early to the sound of clattering and thumping in the kitchen, accompanied by harsh masculine curses. Trying to ignore the fact that she’d had less than four hours’ sleep, she slipped on her dressing-gown and went downstairs to investigate.

Bare-chested and wearing only a pair of old jeans, Alessandro was muttering to himself in Spanish as he smashed his way around the kitchen.

Her Spanish was by no means fluent, but she’d lived with him for long enough to understand that he was in a foul temper.

‘What’s the matter with you?’

Alessandro shot her a stormy look as he made himself a large espresso. ‘It’s morning. I hate mornings. Especially after a night spent in the equivalent of a shoebox.’

She tried not to look at that tempting expanse of muscular chest. He had an incredible physique. Hard. Strong. Male. ‘That sofa was expensive.’

He made a sound that was close to a snarl. ‘Believe me,
you’d never guess by sleeping on it. I’m aching in parts of my body that I never even knew I had before now.’

He looked so cross that she felt a smile coming and lifted a hand to her mouth to cover it.

He paused with the cup halfway to his lips, his smouldering gaze hooded. ‘Are you laughing at me?’ He rolled the ‘r’, sounding more and more Spanish as he always did when he was angry.

‘I’m not laughing at you.’

Slowly, he placed the cup back on the work surface, his eyes glittering dark and dangerous as he moved purposefully towards her. ‘Because if you’re laughing at me,
querida
,
you
can spend the night on the sofa tonight.’

Her heart started to thump hard against her ribs and she found herself backing away. ‘Alessandro, I wasn’t laughing.’ It was ridiculous that he could still have this effect on her, she told herself firmly. They’d been together for twelve years. It wasn’t possible for a man to make a woman weak at the knees after twelve years. It didn’t happen that way. People became bored with each other. Sex was supposed to become routine and infrequent.

‘You would fit better on the sofa.’ He was right up against her now, and she was right up against the wall. Breathing heavily. ‘You are smaller. More delicate.’

At that particular point in time she didn’t need him to point out their differences. Her eyes were in line with sleek, male muscle and dark body hair. He was pumped up and hard and breathtakingly sexy. There was certainly no missing the differences between them.

‘I’ll sleep on the sofa if that’s what you want.’ Why did he persist in standing so close to her? What was he thinking?

And then she made the mistake of lifting her eyes to his and instantly knew exactly what he was thinking. He was
thinking of sex. She recognised the sudden darkening of his eyes, saw the tiny pulse flicker in his rough jaw. He hadn’t shaved yet and he looked more like a bandit than a senior doctor loaded with responsibilities.

Her tongue flickered out in what was actually a nervous gesture, but his eyes dropped to her mouth and she sensed the change in him.

He lifted a hand and brushed her cheek gently, his breathing unsteady. ‘Christy…’

He was going to kiss her.

She closed her eyes, her blood thundering round her body in excited anticipation, and then there was a clatter and laughter as the two children surged into the room.

Alessandro cursed softly and backed away from her, retreating to his abandoned coffee-cup and leaving Christy ready to sob with frustration.

‘Hi, Mum.’ Katy dragged a chair away from the table and sat down with one leg curled underneath her. ‘Dad. Good night?’

‘Marvellous. Perhaps you would like to bounce on the sofa as well as the bed,’ Alessandro suggested with sarcastic bite, ‘and then I wouldn’t have to sleep on it.’

Ben frowned, puzzled as he poured milk into his cup, slopping it everywhere. ‘But you don’t like us bouncing on the furniture.’

‘Dad was joking,’ Katy said calmly, reaching for a cloth to mop up the mess her brother had made. ‘He’s obviously in a bad mood because he slept badly. Tonight he’d better sleep in the bed.’

Alessandro threw his daughter an exasperated look and then turned to Christy. ‘How does she suddenly know so much?’

Christy gave a weak smile. ‘She’s growing up. Don’t worry. I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight. We’ll take turns.’

She poured herself another cup of coffee and missed the thoughtful smile on her daughter’s face.