That would have to do, she thought, and before she could change her mind, she let herself out the room and padded on bare feet down the hall to Draco’s suite. Without hesitating, she rapped her knuckles on his door and, not even waiting for his reply, opened it and stepped inside.
Twelve
“Is there something wrong?”
Draco turned from the desk where he’d been standing, reading a sheet of paper. He placed the paper and the cut crystal tumbler he’d held in his hand on the glossy wooden surface of the desk and crossed the distance between them, concern pulling his eyebrows into a frown.
“No, I’m fine, I just wanted to talk to you a while. That’s all.”
Now that she was here, she suddenly felt nervous. She shouldn’t have changed into the nightgown that was for sure. While it had seemed a good idea at the time, right now she felt as if she’d put herself on display, when what she wanted was Draco’s total attention—and not in that way.
“The night wear looks lovely on you.”
Appreciation gleamed in Draco’s eyes, and Blair felt her body warm and stir under his gaze.
“Thank you,” she said, her words a little breathless.
She averted her eyes and sat down on one of the comfortable, overstuffed couches in his sitting room and cleared her throat.
“Your mother spoke to me about a few things today,” she started.
“I can imagine,” Draco said with a smile. “My mother generally has much to say on every topic.”
“She told me about Marcella.” There, she’d said it. The other woman’s name had slid off her tongue without so much as a hint of the envy she unrealistically bore his dead fiancée.
Draco’s eyes narrowed into cold, emerald chips. “What, exactly, did my mother tell you?”
Maybe this was a mistake. Blair smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her sleeve and drew in another breath before speaking.
“She told me you were engaged and that Marcella died while she was pregnant, before you could be married.”
“And?”
Blair shot him a look. His expression gave nothing away. If he still bore any love for Marcella it wasn’t evident on his features.
“I…I wondered if you could tell me about her. It might help me to understand a bit better.”
“Understand?” Draco paced the floor in front of her. “What is to understand? My life with Marcella has nothing to do with you and me. Marcella loved me, we were engaged to be married, and yes, she was pregnant with my child when she died of a heart defect she’d neglected to inform me of. Had I known—”
Draco broke off and swore volubly in Italian. He stopped his pacing and came to a halt in front of Blair.
“Had you known?” she prompted, wishing she hadn’t embarked on this conversation. To hear him talk of Marcella—to talk of love—could only flay her fragile heart. What the heck had she been thinking?
Draco sighed, a violent huff of air from his lungs that spoke volumes about his emotional frustration.
“Had I known, I would have been more careful. She would not have become pregnant. We would have married and grown old together. It would have been enough.”
“Perhaps she didn’t believe that. Perhaps she knew how important your family was to you. And with your brother gone, she felt she had no choice.”
“Choice? She gave me no choice. She knew her weak heart would never sustain a pregnancy, yet she never shared that information with me at any time.”
“I’m sorry, Draco. Losing her must have been hell for you.”
“Hell for me and for my parents. They had been looking forward to the baby so much. After Lorenzo’s death, a piece of them died too. Knowing Marcella was pregnant brought so much joy and anticipation to their lives. But that was destroyed when she died. Tell me, Blair, how is a man supposed to go on when the woman he loves holds such a truth from him, and by doing so takes not only her life but the life of his child?”
Words stuck in Blair’s throat at the raw grief so evident in Draco’s question.
“I was everything to Marcella. She was devoted to me, and it cost her life. Is that what you wanted to know? She would never have put work ahead of me and the baby, especially not the baby.”
Blair’s back stiffened. “Is that some sort of criticism of me?”
“Take it however you want to,” Draco responded wearily. “But at least be honest with yourself. I know you could never love another person as much as Marcella loved me, or be as self-sacrificing, because you only have one priority in your life—your precious restaurant. But that doesn’t matter. At least you are honest about it and you and I both know exactly where we stand. Besides, we both know that you have no intention of being a real mother to the child.”