Summer Surrender: Capelli's Captive Virgin / Italian Boss, Proud Miss Prim / The Italian's One-Night Love-Child

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘YOU’RE shivering. Are you cold?’ His tone sharp, Alessio hauled the rest of their things into the single-storey cottage and immediately the sound of the building wind was muffled.

‘I’m not cold,’ Lindsay lied, resisting the temptation to rub her hands down her bare arms. Why, oh, why was fate so cruel? Why couldn’t she at least have had something with her that could have covered her up? She wished now that she’d returned to the boat to pick up more provisions, but Alessio had insisted that they move as fast as possible.

And it had been the right decision. By the time they’d walked for twenty minutes along the beach, the wind had risen dramatically.

She’d been relieved when she’d spotted the cottage on the far side of the tiny island. It was slightly protected by the curve of the land and Lindsay could see that they’d be safer there than in the little bay where they’d landed.

‘What is this place?’ The cottage was obviously old and she hesitated on the doorstep, wary of trespassing. ‘Who owns it?’

‘I suppose I do, technically. Before me it belonged to an eccentric millionaire who didn’t much like people.’ Alessio was prowling around the deserted rooms, as if he were looking for something. Occasionally he’d pause and put his hand against a window. ‘We’ll shelter in here. Stay away from the window in case the glass is blown in. We have rugs, plenty of water and some food. We’ll be fine for a few days, if necessary.’

‘A few days?’ Appalled, Lindsay gaped at him. ‘I can’t stay here for a few days! I need to contact Ruby.’

He spread the rug on the floor. ‘It doesn’t make much difference whether you’re on Kingfisher Cay, or here. Ruby isn’t answering your calls.’

‘But what if she tries to contact me?’ Lindsay paced the floor, desperately worried. ‘What if she rings in a panic? What if she needs my advice? I won’t be answering my phone and what will she do then?’

‘She might have to make a decision on her own. Believe me, that would do her the world of good.’ Watching her pace the room, he frowned suddenly. ‘You’re stranded in a storm and still you’re thinking about your sister. When exactly do you worry about yourself? You should be asking me if we’re going to get out of here, or if the cottage is likely to be blown away.’

‘We’ll be fine, I’m sure.’ Barely registering those possibilities, Lindsay started to bite one of her nails and then let her hand drop. ‘But if Ruby needs to contact me—what if she hears about this storm?’

‘She doesn’t know you’re with me, so she won’t understand its relevance. And anyway, you’re safe here.’

Suddenly realising just how isolated they were, Lindsay felt her stomach flip. She didn’t feel safe. She didn’t feel safe at all, and her growing tension had nothing to do with the threatening weather. Outside, the wind was starting to whistle and howl, buffeting the cottage and rattling the windows. But the real threat to her well-being was on the inside.

Dressed only in his swimming shorts, Alessio was now sprawled on the rug watching her.

‘Are you going to pace all night?’

‘I can’t relax—’

‘When are you going to let your sister lead her own life? You try and control her every movement—it’s no wonder she’s rebelled and vanished into the sunset. You created this situation by behaving more like a mother than a sister.’ It was as if he’d punched her.

Appalled, Lindsay stared at him. ‘No.’ She shook her head in furious denial. ‘I don’t control her. I just offer her support.’

‘Support is “I’m here if you need me”,’ Alessio drawled. ‘Support isn’t “you’re not doing what I think you should do”.’

Lindsay’s head was filled with images of a vulnerable toddler clinging to her in bed, night after night. ‘You don’t understand—’

‘Maledizione, why do you think she hasn’t called?’ His tone was brutally direct. ‘Because she knows you’re going to disapprove of what she’s doing. She knows that when you pick up that phone, all she’s going to get from you is a lecture.’

‘No.’ Lindsay’s lips felt dry. ‘No, that isn’t—’

‘Have you ever tried to understand her? Did you ever ask yourself why she wanted to stay in Rome? I’ll tell you why—because it was the only way she could possibly run her life without your constant interference.’

Frozen to the spot, Lindsay could barely breathe. ‘That isn’t true.’ Her stomach heaved and for a moment she actually felt physically sick. ‘And you have no right to say those things to me. What does someone like you know about love? Or relationships?’

She turned and paced back across the room, her arms wrapped around her body as she struggled to hold herself together.

It wasn’t true. None of the horrid things he was saying was true.

Yes, she was protective of Ruby. But she was the older sister. It was her responsibility to look after Ruby. She’d always done it, ever since they were children.

‘Will you let me sleep in your bed, Linny?’

She’d smothered Ruby with love, compensating for the lack of care and affection they’d received from their parents. She’d been the sister and the mother.

Lindsay dug her hands into her hair as she forced herself to examine the facts.

Of course she was going to support her sister and offer advice.

She’d been the very best sister she could be. Hadn’t she?

Tormented by a tiny seed of doubt, Lindsay felt as though her entire world were unravelling.

She’d been so sure of herself. So certain. And suddenly she just didn’t feel certain anymore.

She needed space to think—

She needed to get out of this confined space—

Somehow she managed to make her lips move. ‘I need some air.’ Tugging open the door, she staggered as a powerful gust almost dragged it out of her hand, the wind howling like a choir of a thousand ghosts, daring her to venture outside.

But Lindsay didn’t care—

Whatever lay outside, it had to be better than being trapped with Alessio.

Wincing as the door was almost taken off its hinges, Alessio spent a few seconds cursing the whole female race and their tendency to the dramatic, before springing to his feet.

Hurricane-force winds were blowing outside and she’d decided that she needed some air?

Was she crazy?

But even as he asked himself that question, something slightly uncomfortable twisted inside him. No, she wasn’t crazy. She was just upset. Very, very upset.

And he was the cause of that upset.

Unaccustomed to experiencing feelings of guilt, Alessio strode towards the door, reminding himself that he’d merely told her the truth. And if it had been a painful truth, well, that was because she’d been deluding herself.

In the long term, he’d done her a favour.

She’d probably thank him.

So why was he wishing he could wind the clock back and been given an opportunity to keep his mouth shut?

Trying to dismiss the image of her white face and the distressed look in her eyes, Alessio strode to the door.

If she didn’t have the sense to know it was dangerous out there, then he was going to have to go and fetch her.

Immediately the strength of the wind stole the breath from his lungs and he wondered how someone as slight as Lindsay had managed to stay upright in the path of such a powerful force.

As he secured the door behind him he found himself wondering why she hadn’t turned back.

But he knew the answer to that. She hadn’t turned back because of him. She was either so angry with him she couldn’t bear to be within the same four walls, or else she was so upset by what he’d said that she needed to think.

Either way, she was putting herself in physical danger.

Black, deadly clouds had replaced perfect blue sky and Alessio glanced along the beach, searching for a solitary figure.

And then he saw her. Her arms were wrapped around her body and she was staring out to sea, apparently oblivious to the anger of the storm that was building. Her pale hair had broken loose from the clasp and for once she hadn’t bothered to pin it up again. As if to taunt her with that fact, the wind caught it and blew it wildly around her face and shoulders. She looked like a mermaid, contemplating a return to the sea. She also looked—fragile.

Alessio frowned. Fragile? He always thought of Lindsay Lockheart as composed and controlled. Even the night she’d been attacked on the streets of Rome, she’d been remarkably collected, more concerned about her sister than herself.

But she didn’t look composed or controlled. She looked—broken.

Swearing fluently in two different languages, he strode across to her, ready to blast her for taking such a stupid risk.

But as he drew closer he saw that her cheeks were wet and her eyes were glistening.

Maledizione—

Alessio executed an emergency stop, his natural inclination to retreat in the face of female emotion acting as a break. Given the choice, he would have preferred to do battle with ten storms than mop up tears.

He took a step backwards.

Obviously she wanted to be alone, he reasoned. If she’d wanted his company, she would have stayed in the cottage.

Convincing himself that what she needed most was some space and time to herself—after all, hadn’t she chosen to come out here alone?—he was about to retreat when another powerful gust of wind slammed into them and she lost her balance.

In one stride, Alessio was next to her. He closed his arms around her and braced his strong legs to support them both against the force of the wind. ‘Do you have a death wish? It isn’t safe out here!’ She felt impossibly fragile and he wondered why she hadn’t already been blown over.

He glared down at her, but his feelings of anger and exasperation dissolved in an instant as he registered her tortured expression. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

This was a different Lindsay. A desperately unsure, insecure Lindsay. There was no sign of the competent exterior that she presented to the world. She even looked different, for once oblivious to the fact that her hair was blowing loose around her face and the fact that she was dressed only in a swimming costume. She looked incredibly young.

Incredibly beautiful …

Engulfed by a sudden explosion of lust that was almost more powerful than the storm, Alessio contemplated slinging her over his shoulder and taking her back to the cottage for the type of one-on-one comfort he knew he was capable of delivering.

He was responsible for her upset and he was confident that he could fix it.

But then she lifted her eyes to his and she looked so vulnerable that for once he decided not to say what was on his mind.

Instead he dragged his gaze from the trembling curve of her soft mouth and tried to focus on something non sexual. Like the fact that they were both about to be blown to the outer reaches of the Caribbean. Torn between concern for her safety and guilt that he was the cause of her distress, he tried to haul her back up the path, but she refused to move. ‘We have to go inside.’

She looked at him blankly and exasperation mingled with concern because she was the most decisive woman he’d ever met and yet she was clearly incapable of making any sort of decision.

Tears glistened on her lashes and shadows flickered across her eyes. ‘What if you’re right?’ She had to raise her voice to be heard above the howl of the wind and he gritted his teeth.

There was a storm blowing and she wanted to talk?

‘I am right,’ Alessio assured her, confident that it was the right response regardless of the question. He slid his arm around her shoulders and urged her up the path. ‘We need to get inside. Now. Pronto. Before we find ourselves transported to the next island.’

‘No. I mean about Ruby.’ She stopped, her hand in her hair to prevent it from blowing wildly around her face. ‘What if you’re right about Ruby? What if the reason Ruby isn’t ringing me is because she thinks I’ll judge her? What if it is my fault? What if I’ve driven her away?’ Another powerful gust of wind almost knocked her off her feet and Alessio made a unilateral decision and scooped her into his arms.

She’ll thank me later, he thought as he strode back up the narrow, sandy path to the comparative safety of the cottage. Shouldering the door shut against the raging, angry storm, he lowered her gently to the floor.

‘Don’t leave the cottage again.’ His tone was sharper than he’d intended and when he saw the sheen in her eyes he cursed himself for not being more sympathetic. If he didn’t tread carefully she was going to dissolve in a sodden heap and that was the last thing he wanted or needed.

Resigned to the inevitable, he waited for her to collapse sobbing against his chest, but instead she turned away.

‘Just give me a minute.’

On unfamiliar territory, Alessio stared at her rigid shoulders, trying to work out what he was supposed to do next. Although he had plentiful experience of tearful women, he’d never been with one who didn’t want him to see her crying. And everything about her body language told him that Lindsay Lockheart was trying very hard not to let him see her crying.

Alessio hesitated, torn between the options of steering the conversation onto neutral ground and just dealing with the issue straight out.

Never one to avoid a problem, he tackled it head-on.

‘Apologies aren’t my speciality,’ he gritted, ‘but I think I owe you one. I was unsympathetic and my comments were far too personal—’

‘You don’t owe me an apology.’ She sounded stiff. Formal. And she still didn’t look at him. ‘You don’t have to apologise for being honest. I’m the one who was deluding myself.’ The only indication that she was still crying was the way she discreetly lifted her hand to wipe her face, but somehow that minimal gesture increased his feelings of guilt.

‘You obviously thought you were acting in the best interests of your sister—’ He broke off as he saw her flinch and lift a slender hand to silence him.

‘Alessio, please don’t say any more. There’s only so much honesty I can take in one go.’

He’d been trying to help. But softening the truth wasn’t his forte.

Alessio raked his fingers through his hair, stunned by the realisation that for once he was totally unsure what he should say next. He was a lawyer. He always knew what to say next. ‘What I’m trying to say is that you probably—definitely,’ he corrected himself swiftly, ‘you definitely know better than I do what works for Ruby.’

‘Apparently not.’

‘You’re a great sister.’ Alessio delivered that statement with what he hoped was an appropriate degree of conviction. ‘Ruby is lucky to have someone like you watching over her.’

For a moment she didn’t answer. Then she wiped her face with her fingers once more, and turned to face him. ‘No. Everything you’ve said is true. I have been too controlling. I thought I was protecting her, but I’ve handled her in the worst way possible. I’ve done all the wrong things at all the wrong times.’

His hands tightened on her arms. ‘For all the right reasons.’

‘I’ve let her down. She’s my responsibility, but I’ve made it impossible for her to turn to me because she knows I’ll be upset and worried, and—I’ve missed the fact that she’s grown up …’ Her voice wobbled and for a moment she stopped speaking and just breathed.

Waiting for her to finish her sentence, Alessio discovered that her determination not to lose control in front of him was a thousand times more moving than a cascade of tears.

‘Lindsay—’

‘Don’t say anything,’ she muttered. ‘This is—a bit difficult—’ she lifted a hand to her mouth and then let it fall again ‘—and the reason it’s difficult is because everything you say is true. I’ve failed her.’ For some reason the brave smile was a greater attack on his conscience than her tears and Alessio swore softly.