Love Islands: Swept Away. Natalie Anderson
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sleeveless design of the dress would ensure she remained cool in the sometimes sultry evening heat.
And if all hell broke loose, there was also the swimming pool to jump into. She gave a short hysterical giggle and slipped her feet into open-toed platform heels.
Knowing she couldn’t linger any longer, she hurried to Lucca’s room and checked on him, smiling at Emily, who was folding laundry in the walk-in closet, before making her way to the terrace.
The light from fat candles giving off evocative scents blended with solar lamps dotted around the garden and pool.
Next to the table set out for two, a tall silver ice bucket held a bottle of champagne. Romeo was nowhere in sight.
Before she could breathe a sigh of relief from the nerves churning her stomach, she sensed him behind her and turned.
He was dressed in black trousers and a fitted black shirt, his sleeves rolled back to reveal bronzed forearms and a sleek watch. With a few buttons opened at his throat, it was impossible to miss the light wisps of hair or the strong neck and the rugged jaw thrown into relief by all that black. That image of a dark lord, master of all he surveyed, sprang into her mind again.
Maisie swallowed and willed her hormones to stop careening through her bloodstream. But even at this early stage in the night, she knew it would be an uphill battle to continue fighting the need that whistled through her with the ominous sound of a pressure cooker reaching explosion point.
‘There you are,’ he murmured in a deep, hypnotic voice. ‘I was beginning to think I’d been stood up.’
‘I wasn’t aware this was a date,’ she replied feebly. The setting sun, the soft Hawaiian music playing from hidden speakers...the way he looked at her, all pointed to this being all about the two of them and nothing to do with their son.
She took a tiny step back as he came towards her, all dark and brooding. His eyes told her he knew what she was fighting. And the calculating gleam told her he intended to make sure she would lose.
‘Come, sit down.’
He walked past her, trailing an earthy scent of spicy sandalwood and his own potent musk that drew her like a supercharged bee to pollen, and pulled out a chair.
With a feeling of walking towards her doom, Maisie approached and took her seat, then gasped when his fingers trailed the back of her neck.
‘You must be more careful in the sun, gattina. You have mild sunburn right here.’
She shivered and touched the slightly sore spot, berating herself for being disappointed because his touch had been for an impersonal reason. ‘September in Palermo was the hottest weather I’d encountered before Hawaii. I think I might need a stronger sunscreen.’
He sat opposite her, his gaze thoughtful as it rested on her face.
As Mahina served their first course, she held her breath, knowing questions were coming from Romeo.
As soon as the housekeeper left, he asked, ‘You never took holidays abroad when you were younger?’
She shook her head. ‘There was never time for holidays. Or any free time for that matter. Dedication to my studies seven days a week from kindergarten till I graduated from law school saw to that.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Your parents demanded this of you?’
‘Yes.’
When she didn’t elaborate further, he pressed. ‘Tell me about them.’
‘I thought our pasts were out of bounds?’
Reaching for the chilling bottle, he poured her a drink before serving himself. ‘They are, but I seem to have shared a lot of mine with you without meaning to. I think it’s time we address the imbalance.’
Looking away from him for a moment, she contemplated the last of the lingering orange-and-purple sunset and the stars already beginning to make an appearance.
She didn’t want to talk about her parents, or the single-minded ambition that drove them and had made her childhood an endless drudge of trying, and failing, to please them.
And yet, she found herself nodding.
SHE PICKED UP her fork and tasted the exotic fruit and prawn salad, and busied herself with chewing while pushing her food around on her plate as she struggled to find the right words.
‘My parents knew very early on that I wasn’t academically gifted as they were—they’re both Fulbright scholars and prize academic excellence above everything else.’
‘Including you?’ he asked astutely.
She swallowed and answered without looking up. ‘Including me. I was an accident, who turned even more burdensome when I was unable to fulfil my full potential in their eyes.’ When he didn’t respond, she risked a glance.
His face was set in a carefully blank expression, but she glimpsed a look in his eyes, a kinship, that made her throat clog.
Clearing it, she continued. ‘To say they were stunned their genius hadn’t been replicated in me was an understatement. I was five when they made me take my first IQ test. They refused to believe the result. I took one every year until I was fifteen, when they finally accepted that I wouldn’t be anything more than slightly above average.’
She sipped her champagne, let it wash away the bitter knowledge that she would always be a disappointment in her parents’ eyes.
‘Did they stop pushing you at this point?’ he enquired sharply after helping himself to the last morsel on his plate.
Her mouth twisted. ‘On the contrary. They pushed me harder with the belief that as long as they continued to polish me I would turn into the diamond they wanted instead of the unacceptable cubic zirconia.’
‘I disagree with that description of yourself, and the assessment that you’re average, but go on,’ he encouraged, lounging back, all drop-dead-gorgeous danger, to nurse his drink as their first course was cleared away.
She shrugged. ‘There’s nothing much to add to that. They were indifferent to everything in my life besides my academic achievements, such as they were. When I told them I wanted to be a lawyer, they grudgingly accepted my decision, then immediately started pulling strings for me to be hired by one of the Magic Circle law firms in the country. When I told them I was taking three months off and then returning to take a position at a firm in Dublin, our relationship strained even more.’
‘But you didn’t back down?’
She laughed bitterly. ‘It’s hard being an average child of two geniuses, who hadn’t wanted a child in the first place. I guess I’d reached a point where I’d had enough.’ She’d wanted to lash out, rebel against the oppressive weight of her parents’ indifference. Palermo had been her moment of rebellion. And while she would never regret having Lucca, she was beginning to be afraid that the one man she’d rebelled with had set a benchmark for all other men to come. And that each and every one of them would be found wanting.
She drank some more, felt the bubbles buzz through her veins and loosen her tongue. She even managed a less strained smile when Mahina delivered their second course.
‘I presume that three-month vacation included your stop in Palermo?’ he asked when they were alone again.
With the unburdening of her past came an unexpected increase in appetite. Or it could’ve been the alcohol.
Shrugging inwardly, Maisie tucked into the grilled mahi mahi and gave an appreciative moan. ‘Yes. I’d always been fascinated with all things Italian.’ She paused, glanced at him and saw the mildly mocking brow he lifted in her direction. Flushing, she returned her attention to her plate. ‘I had some money saved from when I worked part-time