The Italian Single Dad. Jennie Adams
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guess I own you now, Arabella. Get used to it.’
‘You’ve become a silent backer.’ Even though she had expected the truth to be unpalatable, lead formed in the pit of Bella’s stomach. No doubt he only told her to make her feel even worse.
‘When Maria’s ready for it, I’ll tell her the whole truth.’ He sent a glance towards Bella. Let her see the warning in his eyes. ‘Until then, you won’t speak of this to her. I have to work things out for her in the way I believe is best.’
‘You’ve made it impossible for me to speak to her,’ Bella fumed, ‘as you well know!’
‘Maria’s welfare is what matters to me in all of this.’ He cast another quick glance at her, and made a lightning change of subject. ‘You never spoke of your family when we were in Milan together, yet I see you must be close to your sisters. You have a wall full of photos of the three of you, and Sophia is clearly protective of you, but what of your parents?’
That one short moment inside her apartment, and he had missed nothing.
‘Roaming the galaxies in outer space for all I know.’ The words snapped out of her. She stopped and forced herself to take a deep breath. ‘My sisters are what matter to me.’
Luc swung the car onto a wide tree-lined boulevard style of street. For the past few minutes, the houses had become larger, better, more prestigious. They stopped before the biggest of them all. Cars lined the long, sweeping driveway and a substantial part of the street.
‘You’ve had a falling-out with your parents?’ He seemed almost troubled, but clearly she must be imagining that!
No, Luchino, they left us, just like you left your daughter years ago.
‘We’re here. Let’s get this over with.’ Bella got out of the car and started up the long drive towards the suburban mansion. She didn’t want to discuss her personal life with him.
The ornate double doors of the home loomed in front of them. At the sight, her nerves hiked. She lifted her chin as they approached the doors, took in a careful breath. Drew on the inner reserves she relied on to get her through any challenge.
Luc’s eyes narrowed. ‘It’s your armour. For when you’re scared.’ He gave a self-directed laugh. ‘Why didn’t I see that before now? Your chin goes up, you withdraw into some place that makes others believe you’re so sufficient in and of yourself you couldn’t need anything else, but it’s all just a veil for your uncertainty.’
‘I want to succeed. That’s all.’ She hated that he could see through what most of the rest of the world had never seen at all, hated that he knew her unease. To make up for that fact, she glared at him.
‘Good evening. May I take your things?’ The sonorous tones came from a very elegant-looking man in full butler’s attire.
They were quickly ushered into a formal ballroom area with an ornate chandelier in the high-domed ceiling, and a lot of glitzy, ritzy, very expensive-looking people who milled about in a studied, elegant throng.
Panic rose. ‘Wait…’
Luc could have played on that nervous feeling. Instead, he threw her off guard by giving her an encouraging glance. ‘They’re just people. It’ll be fine.’
His hand against the bare flesh of her shoulders guided her forward. When he bent his head to whisper lightly into her ear, Bella struggled to comprehend his words, because most of her senses were attuned only to his nearness and that was so wrong. She raised her head and promised herself she wouldn’t sense another thing about him all night.
‘Come on.’ If he noticed her preoccupation, he gave no indication of it. Instead, he gestured towards the clusters of people gathered beyond them. ‘Let’s see you convince these women they want to wear your gowns.’
Bella lifted her chin and did her best to quell the nerves made all the more edgy by Luc’s touch. ‘I’m more than willing to court the attention of the women here tonight, to interest them in my gowns.’ Bella spoke in the strongest tone she could manage. ‘I want to set things to rights as quickly as I can so I no longer have to see you!’
Luc simply smiled in that devastating way he had that made her want to smack him. Or run away. Maybe both.
‘Then let’s mingle,’ he said. ‘Shall we?’
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