Payment completed, the ring secured in its dark blue velvet lined case and secreted in the inner pocket of Luca’s jacket, they were politely ushered from the shop. What the jeweller was speculating, Luca didn’t care—he knew only that he resented it. He’d never said the wordfidanzata, but even so… Plus the man had guessed his identity.
Well, he would just have to rely on the man’s professional discretion. After all, there must be plenty of times when the jewellery he sold was not destined for a woman who had any legitimately acknowledged place in the purchaser’s life. Half his stock doubtless went to females without an engagement ring on their finger, let alone a wedding ring. Men were often all too happy to lavish theirinnamorataswith expensive jewellery.
Not that he ever did. He considered it insulting and demeaning. Nor did he consort with the kind of women who expected it.
Not even Bianca had. He’d give her credit for that.
‘If you like the ring,’ he heard himself saying as they headed out into the town’s main piazza, ‘please feel free to keep it.’
‘A souvenir from this happy occasion?’ Her tone was openly sarcastic. ‘No, thanks—sell it and get your money back.’
‘As you wish,’ Luca replied repressively.
She’d put his back up again. But at least the ordeal of the farcical ritual of bestowing an engagement ring upon her had been accomplished.
It had left him feeling hungry.
He glanced at his watch. ‘Let’s get some lunch,’ he said. There was a restaurant across the piazza he was familiar with, and it would do well enough.
She halted in her stride. ‘I don’t want lunch with you,’ she said.
Luca halted too, turning towards her. ‘Tough,’ he said. ‘I’m hungry, and I want to eat. If you really can’t stand the thought, go shopping.’
He strode off. He was fed up with her balking at him, the hostility coming off her in wave after wave. Had he asked for this infernal situation? No, he had not. So she could damn well give up on giving him a hard time over it.
He reached the restaurant, sat himself down at a table on the wide pavement under the shading awning. A waiter glidedup, handing him a menu, taking his drinks order. As he gave it, Bianca stepped through a gap in the planters separating the restaurant’s seating area from the piazza and took the chair opposite him.
He threw a caustic glance at her. ‘Not keen to shop?’
‘Not right now,’ she replied, and held out her hand to the waiter for a menu of her own, asking for‘agua minerale con gaz’.
Luca’s eyes went to her. Given the awning, she hadn’t put her sunglasses back on, and nor had he. For a moment…a fraction of a second…their eyes met.
Met—and held.
Hers were the first to drop, and he was glad.
Unreasonably so.
For a longer moment he went on looking at her as she assiduously studied the menu. He felt something change in his expression. Something he was not even fully aware of. But one thing he was aware of. One thing it was impossible for himnotto be aware of.
The fact that six years on from his having walked out on her, Bianca’s incomparable beauty still reached out to him…
* * *
Bianca stared blindly at the contents of the menu, taking nothing in. All that was in her vision was that moment just now when Luca had looked at her and she at him. Their eyes meeting…
Memory flooded.
That was just how it had happened that evening at the bar, when she’d been pouring drinks for the Canary Wharf Hooray Henrys. Lifting glasses, lifting her eyes—she’d collided full onwith the man waiting for his turn to be served. Waiting…and watching her.
Tall, svelte, lethal.
Looking her over. Liking what he was seeing.
Just as I did. Not just his incredible Latin looks—the sable hair and chiselled features and those dark lidded eyes resting on me—but the whole package of him. The pale grey expensive business suit that fitted like a glove across those elegant shoulders of his. That indefinable air of cosmopolitan cool that he possessed so effortlessly. That awareness… Yes, he knew perfectly well that all female eyes went to him, knew perfectly well that I would welcome his appreciation of me—and that he would welcome mine of him in return.
And return that open appreciation she had.