Modern Romance July 2016 Books 5-8. Кейт Хьюит
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it work out between you two, anyway?’ Hannah asked lightly, ignoring the sting of jealousy her question caused.
‘She was too clingy.’
‘What, she wanted to stay the night?’ Hannah quipped.
‘I told you. It never got that far. Anyway, last night you agreed with me that relationships weren’t worth it,’ Luca reminded her.
Hannah stilled. How had they got onto this? ‘I said “maybe”,’ she corrected him. ‘The verdict is still out.’
‘But you’re not in a relationship?’ Luca pressed, his gaze narrowed.
Hannah cocked her head. ‘Is that really any of your business?’
Luca’s gaze flicked to the bed, reminding him all too well of what had just happened there. ‘Considering the nature of this weekend,’ he answered, ‘yes.’
‘Fine. No, I’m not.’ And hadn’t been in anything close to one for over five years. ‘Work keeps me busy,’ she added before turning away.
They left the bedroom to join the other guests for coffee and pastries in the spacious front hall. A marble table held a huge centrepiece of lilies, and Hannah saw Luca’s mouth compress as he turned away from the ostentatious display. She knew he disliked lilies, but now she wondered at the nature of that particular quirk. She was curious about Luca in a lot of new and unsettling ways, thanks to the nature of this weekend.
After about half an hour of chit-chat, Andrew Tyson called the men away to his private office for a day of presentations. Meanwhile one of his staff ushered the three women towards a waiting car, where they would be given a tour of Santa Nicola.
Hannah was looking forward to seeing some of the island, but she didn’t relish Daniela’s hostile company. Fortunately the third woman of their trio, Rose, plopped herself next to Hannah and chatted to her about her three young children for the drive into the island’s one town, Petra. Daniela sat in the back, sulking and staring out of the window.
Hannah spent a surprisingly enjoyable morning, strolling through Petra’s cobbled streets, admiring the whitewashed buildings with their colourfully painted shutters and terracotta roof tiles.
At an open-air market she bought a wooden toy boat with a sail made of shells for Jamie, smiling to think of him receiving the present. It was even better than a conch shell.
‘And who is that for?’ Daniela asked, coming up next to her at the stall of toys in the market square. Hannah accepted the paper-wrapped boat from the vendor with a smile of thanks. She’d managed to avoid Daniela for most of the day, but she supposed a confrontation was inevitable. Daniela dripped with the venom of a woman scorned.
‘It’s a boat,’ she said pleasantly. ‘For my nephew.’ She didn’t like lying about her son, but Daniela was the last person she’d trust with any confidence, and her having a child Luca didn’t know about would shatter any illusions that their engagement was real.
Daniela raised perfectly plucked eyebrows. ‘Have you met Luca’s parents yet?’ she asked, and Hannah tensed.
The question might seem innocent enough, but she knew Daniela well enough to know it was loaded. She tucked the present for Jamie in the straw bag she’d brought, stalling for time. Luca had told her to stick as close to the truth as she could, so she supposed that was what she’d have to do.
‘No, I haven’t,’ she said as she looked into Daniela’s pinched face, trying for a pleasant tone and smile. ‘Not yet.’
‘Not yet?’ Daniela repeated, a sneer entering her voice and twisting her pretty features. ‘Then you don’t know he’s an orphan? His parents died when he was young.’ She smirked in triumph and Hannah tried to school her features into an acceptably bland expression although inwardly she cursed herself. She knew Daniela had been setting her up somehow. She’d seemed to suspect her from the start. Because you’re not the kind of woman Luca Moretti is normally seen with. Certainly not the kind of woman he’d fall in love with.
‘We had a whirlwind courtship,’ she dismissed as best she could. ‘We’re still learning all sorts of things about each other.’
‘We went on one date and he told me,’ Daniela returned.
‘One date?’ Hannah couldn’t keep from matching the woman’s cattiness. ‘Then perhaps it’s time you got over him.’
The conversation dogged her for the rest of the day, and she breathed a sigh of relief when they headed back to the resort. Luca wasn’t in the bedroom when she arrived, and she put her purchases away before running a deep bubble bath. Before dropping them off, the member of staff had informed the three women of the evening’s itinerary: cocktails on the terrace with Tyson and his family, followed by a formal dinner and dancing.
Hours and hours of pretending, a prospect that made Hannah feel both tense and exhausted, even as she tingled with anticipation at spending an evening with Luca. Would he dance with her? The thought of swaying silently with him, breathing in his heat and scent, his arms strong about her, was enough to make her stomach flip-flop.
Which was fine, Hannah assured herself. So she was attracted to Luca. What woman wouldn’t be? Why shouldn’t she enjoy dancing with him? It wasn’t as if it were going anywhere. She wasn’t looking for a relationship or even a one-night stand. Both were too risky. All she wanted was a few moments of enjoyment and pleasure.
Except Luca had admitted he was attracted to her. Reluctantly, yes, and to his surprise, but still. Over the course of the day she’d got over the sting of his obvious bemusement at being attracted to her, and accepted the compliment that it was.
The door to the bedroom opened just as Hannah was stepping out of the bathroom, swathed in an enormous terrycloth bathrobe.
‘How did it go?’ she asked and then watched in dismay as Luca jerked his tie from his collar and strode over to the minibar, pouring himself two fingers’ worth of whisky and downing it in one hard gulp.
‘Fine.’
Hannah knotted the sash on her robe and pulled her damp hair out from under its thick collar. ‘You’re not acting like it’s fine,’ she observed cautiously.
‘I said it was fine, it’s fine,’ Luca snapped, and poured another drink.
Hannah watched him, wondering what demon was riding his back. Because that was what Luca looked like: a man who was haunted. Tormented. And she didn’t understand why.
‘Daniela asked me about your parents,’ she said, knowing she needed to tell him what had happened that afternoon. Luca stiffened, his glass halfway raised to his lips.
‘Why would she do that?’
‘Because she was trying to trip me up. I think she suspects something.’
‘Daniela?’ He shook his head, the movement curtly dismissive. ‘I barely know the woman. I haven’t seen her in over a year. She’s been married to James Garrison for nearly six months.’
‘Well, I think she still holds a candle for you. And she asked me about your parents and I told her I hadn’t met them. Yet.’ She waited, but Luca’s face was blank.
‘And?’ he said after a pause.
‘And she informed you were an orphan. I didn’t know that, Luca, and clearly I should have. She knew it.’
Hannah couldn’t tell anything from his expression; his eyes looked pitilessly blank. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said inadequately. ‘For your loss.’
‘It was a long time ago.’
‘Still, it’s a big thing.’ She knew that all too well. ‘And now Daniela knows I didn’t know it.’
Luca pressed his lips together and tossed his empty glass on top of the bar, where it clattered and then rolled onto its side. ‘There’s nothing we can do about it