Captive in His Castle(27)

Did he still love the beautiful socialite? she wondered later as she followed him into the bedroom. He had sounded regretful when he had explained that Vittoria had been the one to break off their engagement. What had Drago’s mother meant when she’d said his engagement to Vittoria had ended ‘tragically’?

Frustrated that there was so much she did not know about the man she was to marry in two weeks’ time, Jess watched him shrug off his dinner jacket and begin to unfasten his shirt buttons, revealing inch by inch the muscular bronzed chest covered with whorls of dark hair that arrowed over his flat abdomen and disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers. His devastating good looks took her breath away, and a different kind of frustration unfurled in the pit of her stomach.

He glanced over at her, and Jess glimpsed a predatory hunger in his eyes which was quickly masked beneath the sweep of his thick lashes. But the glittering look lifted her spirits, because it was proof that Drago’s desire for her had not faded. They had been drawn together by their fierce sexual attraction to each other, and it was likely that desire was all he would ever feel for her, she acknowledged sadly. But it was better than nothing, and life had taught Jess to settle for what she could get and not wish for the moon.

‘Did I mention how gorgeous you look in that dress?’ Drago murmured.

‘You told me before we went down to dinner,’ she reminded him.

Rosy pink colour flared on her cheeks, and Drago knew she was remembering him kissing her. She had goaded him so that he had lost his self-control and punished her with a searing kiss, but his anger had quickly turned to desire and he had spent the evening in a state of uncomfortable semi-arousal.

She was a work of art—so slender and fine-boned that she reminded him of a delicate porcelain figurine. But her bare shoulders were satin-soft beneath his fingers as he traced the line of her collarbone, and the pulse jerking at the base of her throat was evidence that she was a warm, responsive woman, not a cold statue. Her eyes glowed emerald-bright and her mouth was a soft pink temptation that he could not resist. He felt his body stir, and his need for her pounded an urgent drumbeat through his veins.

He cupped her face in his hands, but a frown drew his brows together when he noticed the purple shadows beneath her eyes. She looked infinitely fragile. His frown deepened. What was he thinking of, putting his own selfish need for sexual fulfilment before her well-being? And not only her well-being, but that of the child in her belly. How could he consider making love to her during these crucial early days of her pregnancy? Drago asked himself angrily. He knew better than most how precarious was the tiny life she carried.

Ignoring the ache of frustration in his gut, he dropped his hands from her shoulders. ‘You should get to bed. You look all in,’ he murmured. ‘Here.’ He took one of his shirts from a drawer and handed it to her. The look of disappointment in her eyes tested his resolve, and Drago knew there was no way he would be able to keep his hands off her if he had to lie next to her delectable body all night. ‘I need to read a report that won’t keep. I don’t want to disturb you, so I’ll sleep in my dressing room tonight.’

‘There’s no need for you to do that,’ Jess mumbled, taken aback by his sudden change from sensual lover to enigmatic stranger. So much for her belief that there would at least be passion in their marriage, if not love, she thought bleakly. Drago was in such a hurry to get away from her that he was already walking through the door leading to his dressing room.

He turned back to her, his expression serious. ‘It is important for the baby’s development that you sleep well. But every night you have dreams that upset you, and you speak of someone called Katie.’ He waited for Jess to make a response, and when she remained silent frustration surged through him. He sensed there was something in her past that she was keeping secret, but he could not force her to confide in him, he acknowledged heavily. ‘I’ll check with Dr Marellis if it is harmful to experience disturbing dreams during pregnancy,’ he said gruffly. ‘Buonanotte, Jess.’

I’ll check with Dr Marellis was a phrase Drago repeated often during the following days, and his obsessive concern for her health drove Jess mad. He consulted an array of health care books, monitored every aspect of her pregnancy, and fretted about her bouts of morning sickness, which grew worse daily and left her feeling weak and drained.

‘How can you be sure it is normal to be so sick?’ he demanded when she tried to reassure him. She almost let slip that this was not her first experience of morning sickness. But the idea of talking about her first pregnancy was too painful to contemplate when the wound in her heart was so deep and raw.

Even when Drago was abroad she still felt stifled by him, Jess brooded, three days before their wedding was due to take place. He had explained that his business trip to Germany was unavoidable. She had refrained from admitting that she would be glad to have a few days to herself. But her hopes of having some time alone, so that she could come to terms with the dramatic changes in her life and especially her feelings about her pregnancy, had been dashed by Drago’s constant phone calls.

‘Yes, I ate breakfast,’ she told him patiently. ‘No, I haven’t been sick this morning.’

‘Why not?’ His voice sounded sharp over the phone. ‘Why would the sickness suddenly stop?’

‘I don’t know. I’m just glad to have kept my food down for once,’ Jess muttered. Really, there was no pleasing him, she thought irritably. According to Drago, she was either too sick or not sick enough.

‘Yes—that’s good, of course. Perhaps you’ll start to put on weight rather than lose it. But I’ll call Eduardo Marellis and arrange for him to come to the palazzo and check that your pregnancy is progressing as it should.’

‘There’s no need. I only saw him four days ago.’

‘It’s better to be safe,’ Drago said in the uncompromising voice Jess knew so well. ‘I don’t want you to do too much today. In fact why don’t you spend the morning in bed?’

It was on the tip of Jess’s tongue to tell him that being in bed on her own wasn’t much fun, but pride kept her quiet. Drago had slept in his dressing room every night since he had announced their engagement to his family, and she was determined to hide how hurt she felt and how much she missed him. It wasn’t just the sex; it was the feeling of closeness to him that she longed for—because then she could fool herself that he cared for her a little.

When he ended the phone call she wandered over to the window and stared out at the view of the Grand Canal, which was busy with the boats and water taxis that provided the main mode of transport through the city. Venice attracted thousands of tourists in the summer, but Jess had lived her whole life in London and was used to busy streets. She was also used to being independent and going out when and where she pleased, but Drago had insisted that she did not leave the palazzo without being accompanied by his bodyguard Fico.

She felt as if she was imprisoned in a gilded cage, she thought heavily. She missed her freedom, and with her wedding only days away she felt trapped. Marrying Drago was undoubtedly the best thing she could do for the baby. Their child would enjoy a privileged lifestyle that she could not possibly give if she was a single mother. But she was struggling to come to terms emotionally with being pregnant for a second time, and the guilt she had buried for so long was a permanent ache in her heart.

If only she could just have a few hours to herself to think—without Fico or the other household staff hovering around her. She grimaced as she remembered her crazy attempt to climb down from the balcony the first night Drago had brought her to the palazzo. She was not going to do anything as stupid as that again, but there was no reason why she shouldn’t slip away by herself for a couple of hours. Drago need never find out.

‘What do you mean, she’s not here?’ Drago roared, venting his fury on the hapless maid who had hurried downstairs to tell him that Signorina Harper was not anywhere in the palazzo or the garden.

Dropping his briefcase on the marble floor of the entrance hall, he thrust his fingers through his hair and discovered that his hand was shaking. Fear was rapidly replacing the anger that had blazed in him when he had received a phone call from Fico to tell him that Jess had apparently disappeared.

Thank God he had decided to cut his trip to Germany short and had already been at Marco Polo airport when he had spoken to Fico. Drago glared at the bodyguard, who had just returned from St Mark’s Square, which was one of Jess’s favourite haunts.

‘No sign of her,’ Fico said gruffly. ‘But the place is packed with tourists and I could have missed her if she’s in a café. I’ve left three members of the security team to continue searching—’

Puzzled by the bodyguard’s abrupt silence, Drago followed his gaze and spun round to see Jess walking up the front steps of the palazzo. Relief caused his knees to sag, but incensed by the effect she had on him, and the unpalatable fact that she weakened and unmanned him, he strode forward to meet her.