His grip lessened not a jot.
‘Let mego!’ she ground out. ‘If you think I’m leaving tomorrow—forget it! AndIdon’t“give a damn”…’ she echoed his words deliberately ‘…whether that embarrasses you or not!’
He stared at her, his eyes like pits. His hand around her arm jerked.
‘Embarrassesme?’ he shot back. ‘What the hell’s that got to do with it? All I care about is getting your grasping claws out of Matteo!’
He took a step back suddenly, releasing her. The place where his fingers had pressed burned like a brand on her, even through the material of her sleeve. His expression had changed. That black anger had been replaced by something that chilled her even more.
Revulsion. Disgust. Contempt.
‘How low have you sunk?’ His voice was twisted. ‘To batten on to a dying man—’
Bianca’s face worked. ‘I’m here because hewantsme here! How could I refuse him—how?’
Now it was Luca savagely echoing her. ‘Howcould yourefuseto accept what he’s so obviously, besottedly lavishing upon you?’ His hand reached out again, flicked at the pearl collar around her neck, then dropped away. ‘He’s draped you in his dead wife’s jewels…’
The disgust in his voice was matched only by his anger.
Bianca felt herself flush. ‘I didn’t know—he just said they were family heirlooms. He never said…never said they were Luisa’s.’
‘Don’t give me that! And don’t even say her name!’ His eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Or is that your ambition? Not just to batten onto him while you can, for what you can get out of him, but toaim for the ultimate prize? To get him to marry you? A deathbed marriage?’
A gasp broke from her. Shock ripped across her face.
‘Are youinsane?’ she said. Her voice was hollow.
A sound from behind them broke the moment. The French windows were being opened, and a discreet cough came from Giuseppe.
‘Dinner is served,’ he said in Italian.
Numbly, with shock still ripping through her, Bianca stepped past Luca, past Giuseppe. In thesaloni, Matteo was on his feet, the nurse disappeared.
Matteo’s face was wreathed in smiles.
‘All done,’ he said. ‘And now, finally, we can enjoy the evening.’
His eyes went from Bianca, to Luca, and back again, apparently pleased at what he saw.
Luca had stepped through behind Bianca, and she could feel him like a demonic presence beside her—for what else could he be?
But words failed her—thoughts failed her. All she could feel was that tearing shock still ripping right through her. Shock upon shock. Shock at seeing Luca walk into thesaloni—walk back into her life. Shock twisting inside her nauseatingly at what he’d just thrown at her, what he thought she was doing here.
Desperately she strove to hide her reaction, school her expression. Matteo was walking towards them, carefully but steadily.
‘So,’ he said, his eyes bright upon them both as he came up to them, taking their hands in his as she stood stock still beside Luca, who was as still as she was. ‘You have been making a start on getting to know each other? That is good—very good. For of all things, my dear Luca,’ he went on, looking directly at his godson, ‘I most of all want you to come to know, and to valueas I do, my very dear Bianca. My dearest treasure…the blessing bestowed upon me by heaven in this my time of trial.’
Matteo’s smile deepened, and his hold on her hand tightened, though hers was quite immobile still.
Emotion filled his voice as he spoke again.
‘Bianca… My brother’s long-lost daughter—my most precious, dearest niece.’
* * *
Luca heard the words but they did not compute, nor make sense in any way at all.
‘Non credo…’