The Secret Casella Baby. CATHY WILLIAMS

work out,’ he said abruptly. ‘I should go and have a shower.’ He levered himself off the sofa with a twinge of regret. He would have liked to stay put, lost himself in her again, but he really wasn’t interested in prolonging a conversation about Clarissa James.

      When he had told her about Clarissa, it had been to assuage her curiosity about his unmarried status. Once bitten, twice shy, he had wryly concluded, having omitted most of the details of the relationship—notably the fact that Clarissa James had played him for a fool. He and Clarissa had gone out and she had been a breath of fresh air after his diet of elegant, eligible women. She had been wild, willing and, to start with at least, satisfyingly hard to get. By the time doubts had set in and Luiz had found himself ready to move on, she had declared herself pregnant.

      The wild child with the tangle of gypsy-black hair and eccentric clothes that had always looked just right had somehow morphed into a calculating woman who was in a position to call all the shots. It had just been a fortunate accident that he had discovered the stash of contraceptive pills buried in a compartment in her handbag. The packet that was one pill lighter every day for the seven days he had routinely checked.

      She had played him for a fool and in the aftermath he had had to endure his family cautioning him about gold-diggers and his sisters gleefully thinking that they could arrange his private life to save him the bother of another mistake—not to mention friends and colleagues to whom he had given no explanation for the break-up, only to say what he had said to Holly, that it hadn’t worked out. Doubtless they had drawn other, more elaborate conclusions for the sudden demise of the relationship.

      ‘Why won’t you talk about her?’ Holly demanded. She sat up and reached down for her discarded underwear. For a few seconds she had the strangest sensation of being suddenly cast adrift on unknown waters. There was an edginess to the atmosphere that made her want just to keep quiet and go with the flow as she had done in the past, but something else was pushing her on to ask him the question that had been playing on her mind for the past couple of months: where were they going? What was the next step for them?

      ‘Because there’s nothing to talk about!’ Back in his clothes, Luiz turned to see that she had also got into hers although she still had that tousled, thoroughly kissed look that could do things to his body.

      ‘Were you in love with her?’

      Luiz paused. He felt as though he had taken a direct hit. The comfortable situation in which she was pleasantly deluded about his wealth, his power and the horror of how it could corrupt no longer felt quite so comfortable. Nor was it so easy to sidestep the reality that the piece of fiction which now lay between them like a gaping chasm wasn’t quite as harmless as he conveniently liked to pretend to himself.

      ‘It felt that way at the time,’ he grudgingly offered. ‘I was wrong.’

      ‘But it left a mark on you.’

      ‘Naturally. That’s the thing about bad experiences, they usually do. Now, are we going to spend the rest of the evening sitting here discussing something that’s not relevant or are we going to have some of that wine you tell me is waiting outside?’

      ‘It’ll be warm.’ Suddenly the wine and the crudités seemed a gauche introduction to the serious conversation she had planned. Plus, he just didn’t want to talk about Clarissa. He was very forthcoming about his family, about Brazil. He knew so much about so many things that he could debate pretty much anything—he could discuss theatre, opera and art, and he could make her laugh in a thousand ways. If there was ever anything on her mind, anything troubling her, he always knew how to sort it out.

      He was physical in ways she could never have imagined and saw nothing wrong in getting his hands dirty helping out at the sanctuary. He listened to everything she said, and she knew that she talked a lot. He probably knew more about her childhood and her background than the friends she had grown up with!

      But there were dark areas to him that were practically impenetrable and she had hit one. She knew that even as he turned away and headed out towards the garden where the warm bottle of wine and the crudités, dried at the edges, were waiting for them.

      ‘You’re right. It’s warm.’ He grinned at her and decided that he would put that brief, awkward conversation somewhere safely out of mind. ‘Let’s scrap the wine and the… eh… sticks of celery and carrot.’

      ‘Crudités,’ Holly reluctantly grinned back at him and he gave her a swift hug and dropped a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

      ‘Hmm. If you say so. I’ve bought you something; you can wear it to go out…’ He dipped into his trouser pocket and extracted a small box. The bracelet had cost him thousands. He had chosen it himself. Naturally, he would assure her that it was just a trinket. It was the only way he could give her things and he liked giving her things. Maybe because she never asked for anything. She was neither materialistic, nor was she grasping, but then why would she be when she was clueless as to his financial worth?

      ‘Wow.’ The bracelet was studded with what could easily have passed for real diamonds. ‘This is amazing, Luiz.’ She held it up to the light and watched the way the gemstones caught the rays of the sun. ‘You shouldn’t have.’

      ‘You say that every time I give you something.’

      ‘Yes, I know. And I keep telling you that there’s no need for you to bring me presents all the time. There must be loads of other stuff you need the money for. Living in London isn’t cheap…’ He had told her that he had a little place in a good enough location. She wasn’t entirely sure what ‘a good enough location’ was and how little his little place might be but, whatever it was and wherever it was located, it would still have cost a lot. Heaven only knew what his mortgage repayments were!

      ‘Let me worry about my finances,’ Luiz murmured, urging her back into the house. ‘And tell me where you would like to eat.’

      ‘There’s something in the oven,’ Holly told him breathlessly. Crudités were going to be followed by a casserole. She had followed a recipe. There would be candlelight and she would edge towards the questions she wanted to ask him in stages. She didn’t really know why she felt so timid about discussing their relationship. She just did. It was something he never discussed and his reticence on the subject was strangely infectious.

      ‘I thought we could eat here… talk a bit.’

      ‘Talk a bit?’ Luiz felt a stirring of unease. He had already diverted an awkward conversation about Clarissa. He hoped that there were no plans to return to the subject. Walking into the kitchen a step behind her, he noted that the table had been elaborately set. Usually, eating in was a casual exercise. Something quick was rustled up. There always seemed to be a lot of catching up to do even though he was accustomed to speaking to her during the week. Food was usually just a necessary interruption.

      ‘Talk about what?’ he demanded.

      Holly turned around and gazed at him equably. Underneath the calm exterior, however, she felt unaccountably nervous, and then for the first time ever a certain amount of resentment that she should be made to feel nervous about the prospect of having a perfectly natural conversation with the man she was in love with.

      ‘Oh, about us.’ She gave an unnaturally high laugh and turned away to pour them both a glass of cold wine from the fridge.

      ‘We talk about us all the time.’

      ‘No, we don’t. I mean, we talk about the things we’ve been doing during the week, but we don’t talk about us.’ She fought past the sinking feeling she was getting at the closed expression on his face. Her legs felt a little wobbly and she sat down on the kitchen chair, clutching the wine glass.

      ‘What is there to talk about?’ Luiz was deliberately obtuse. The width of the table between them felt like a chasm. He had become accustomed to her soft, yielding personality. Everything about her was sweetly, generously feminine. She thought of him in a million little ways and he liked that. It was why similarly, he put himself out for her like he had never done for any other woman before. Right now, though, he had the disconcerting sensation