Captive in His Castle(23)

Jess’s thoughts were reeling. She wanted to ask Drago what he meant when he said he wanted their relationship to continue, and how exactly their affair would work, but she was afraid of his reply. If he asked her to give up her life in London she was scared she might be tempted to agree.

Feeling too restless and worked up to remain sitting next to him, she jumped up from the bed. The room spun and she felt dizzy again—as she had after she’d ridden on a carousel years ago, when her social worker had taken her to a fairground. She felt hot and cold at the same time, there was a peculiar roaring noise in her ears, and she heard Drago calling her name as she fell into blackness.





CHAPTER NINE



THE ROOM WAS no longer spinning. Cautiously Jess turned her head and met Drago’s tense gaze.

‘Lie still. The doctor is on his way.’

She immediately jerked upright—and gagged as a wave of nausea swept over her.

‘Dio! Do you ever do as you are told?’ Concern overrode the impatience in his voice as he eased her back down onto the pillows.

‘My dress will get creased if I lie down in it,’ she argued, although she did not try to move again for the simple reason that she was afraid she would be sick. ‘I don’t need a doctor.’

His answer was uncompromising. ‘Of course you do. You passed out, you’re as white as death, and you’ve been suffering from dizzy spells.’

It was easier to let Drago take control, Jess decided wearily. And in truth she felt awful.

The doctor arrived a few minutes later. A softly spoken man, with grey hair and a reassuringly calm manner, he checked her blood pressure, asked various questions and took a blood sample which he said he would test to see if she was anaemic.

‘It is a fairly common problem with young women as iron is lost during menstruation each month—especially if they do not eat properly because of the fashion to be thin,’ he said, with a meaningful glance at Jess’s slender figure.

‘I eat well. I can’t help being naturally skinny,’ she muttered.

Her mind was focused on the first part of the doctor’s statement and she did a frantic calculation. Her period was only a couple of days late. There was no need to panic, she told herself. No need for the sick dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach when she remembered how she had woken the last two mornings feeling horribly sick. The possibility that she could be pregnant was too terrifying to contemplate. She could not have conceived by accident a second time, she assured herself. Lightning couldn’t strike twice. She was convinced that she must be suffering from a gastric virus.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Drago demanded as he walked back into the room after the doctor had departed.

‘To my room.’ Jess shot a glance at him and felt her heart give a familiar flip as she recalled the conversation they’d had before she had fainted. She was no wiser as to what sort of relationship he wanted with her, but tonight she felt too weak and vulnerable to press him for an explanation. ‘I think it will be better if I sleep alone. I’m sure I’ve picked up a stomach bug, and I don’t want to disturb you if I’m ill during the night.’

He shook his head and, ignoring her protest, lifted her and deposited her back on the bed. ‘I’m not risking you being alone in case you faint again. Hopefully the doctor will have some answers as to what is wrong with you tomorrow, but tonight you’re sleeping in here, where I can keep an eye on you. Madonna!’ Drago’s patience evaporated as she slid off the mattress. ‘You are the most stubborn, infuriating woman—’

‘I need to take my dress off.’

Without another word he turned her round and ran the zip down her spine. It was ridiculous to feel shy when she had spent every night of the past weeks in his bed, Jess thought wryly. But she could not prevent a soft flush spreading across her cheeks as Drago slid the straps over her shoulders and tugged the dress down until it pooled at her feet.

Her breasts had felt ultra-sensitive recently, and her nipples were as hard as pebbles. Drago’s eyes narrowed and Jess found herself holding her breath, willing him to take her in his arms and make the world go away. When he made love to her she could pretend that it was more than just good sex, and that maybe he really did want more than a casual affair with her. To her disappointment he moved away, and a moment later handed her one of his shirts.

‘You’d better wear this to sleep in,’ he said, without giving an explanation of why he wanted her to cover up when she usually slept naked. ‘Would you like a drink? I’ll ask Francesco to bring a pot of tea, if you like.’

For some inexplicable reason his gentle concern made Jess feel like bursting into tears, and only by biting down hard on her lip was she able to control her emotions.

‘I don’t want anything, thanks. I’m very tired.’ Drained would be a better description, she thought as she climbed into bed. The silk sheets were deliciously cool, and she closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh that, unbeknown to her, increased Drago’s concern.

Jess looked ethereally fragile, lying in the huge bed, with her fiery hair so bright in contrast to her pale face, he thought grimly. Until the doctor could come up with an explanation of what was wrong with her he was not going to let her set foot outside the palazzo—not to go back to London and her job as a decorator. He still had difficulty imagining her climbing ladders and painting walls for a living. Not because he thought that being a decorator was demeaning, but because her petite, slender figure was not suited to a physically demanding job.

As he joined her in the bed his body reacted predictably to the feel of her small, round bottom pressed up against him. He was thankful he had persuaded her to wear his shirt. She would tempt a saint, let alone a mortal man who was painfully aroused, he thought ruefully. The steady sound of her breathing told him that she had fallen asleep. Hopefully she would feel better after a restful night, so long as she did not have another of her disturbing dreams or weep silently in her sleep as she sometimes did. When he had asked her more about the dreams she had insisted she did not remember, but he sensed that she had not told him the whole truth, and he felt frustrated that she clearly did not trust him enough to confide in him.

Jess opened her eyes to find sunshine flooding the bedroom. Frowning, she glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that it was ten a.m. She had never slept so late in her life, but the long sleep must have done her good because she did not feel sick this morning. The panic she’d felt the previous night when she’d realised her period was a couple of days late seemed a silly overreaction. In fact she often felt nauseous and overemotional just before her monthly period, and she wouldn’t be surprised if it started today.

‘How are you feeling?’

Drago’s deep voice made her jump, and she turned her head to see him sitting in an armchair. Dressed in immaculately tailored beige chinos and a black polo shirt, his silky hair falling onto his brow and his square jaw bearing a faint shadow of dark stubble, he was so incredibly handsome that her heart performed its usual somersault. At first glance he appeared relaxed, with his long legs stretched out in front of him, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair and his fingers linked together. But closer inspection revealed the tense line of his jaw, and his black eyes were as hard as jet and curiously expressionless.

‘I feel fine,’ Jess assured him. ‘I don’t know why I fainted last night. Maybe I am a bit anaemic, as the doctor suggested.’

‘Santa Madre!’ He leapt to his feet with the violent force of a volcanic eruption. ‘You can stop the pretence that you don’t know what is wrong with you. I know you are pregnant with my child,’ he said savagely. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

Scalding fury coursed through Drago’s veins. Ever since he had received the phone call from the doctor an hour ago rage had been building inside him like steam in a pressure cooker, and now he exploded. Why had Jess kept her pregnancy a secret? Memories of the nightmare scenario that had happened eight years ago returned to haunt him. He would never forget Vittoria’s terrified face—or the blood. There had been so much blood. He closed his eyes in an attempt to blot out the images, and when he opened them again he focused grimly on Jess.

‘Tell me—were you planning to keep my child a secret from me for ever?’ he demanded bitterly. He watched the colour drain from her face until she was even paler than she had been the previous night. ‘Are you going to faint? Put your head between your knees.’ His voice roughened with concern as he strode over to the bed and tangled his fingers in her bright hair, holding her head down so that the blood rushed back to her brain.

‘I’m all right.’ Jess drew a shuddering breath, conscious of the painful thud of her heart as it jerked erratically against her ribcage. Her head was still spinning as she lifted her eyes to Drago. Intense shock made her skin feel clammy and strangled her vocal cords, so that her voice emerged as a shaky whisper. ‘I’m not pregnant. I can’t be.’