It was a neutral question, nothing more.
Luca replaced his glass on the table, his eyes going to her. There was still something in them that quickened her pulse.
‘Which would you prefer?’
That should have been a neutral question too. It was not.
‘To have my company—or not?’
His eyes were on her, holding hers, and suddenly Bianca felt heat beating up inside her as Luca’s dark, lidded eyes rested on her with that expression in them. An expression she had once known so well…
She forced back the heat flushing her skin, stilled her quickening pulse. What was Luca doing? Why? Nothing had changed—nothing at all. They were acting out their roles for Matteo, but they were off the stage now. And even though she could not help but acknowledge that her reaction to him now was the same as it had been six years ago, and just as powerful, she had no reason to indulge—and every reasonnotto indulge.
He should not indulge either.
She had to make that clear. Because otherwise…
‘Luca.’ Her voice was repressive, flat, her expression closed, and she chose her words heavily, deliberately. ‘We agreed that the best way to cope with this impossible situation is to behave as though we are the strangers Matteo thinks we are. Please stick to it.’
Something glinted in the depths of his eyes. Something she didn’t like.
‘But we are not strangers, Bianca. Not strangers at all…’
The statement hung in the air between them. She wanted to knock it aside—needed to.
His dark, lidded eyes were still resting on her. She felt her chest tightening. So she went on the attack instead.
She levelled her gaze at him, face expressionless. ‘I know you’re just trying to wind me up, Luca—like you did that first night at my uncle’s. You didn’t like my slapping you down—literally—and you don’t like it that I’m angry with you. So—’
‘Are you? Are you still angry with me?’
His question cut across her. Silencing her.
She swallowed, his question echoing. She looked away, her eyes going out over the vista beyond where they were sitting. Then they came back to Luca.
She answered him. Honesty infusing her voice. ‘No. No, I’m not. Not any more. Because seeing you here, in this ancestral pile of yours, brings home to me just how great the differences between us are. It makes sense of what you threw at me all those years ago—however much I didn’t want to hear it.’
It was Luca who was silent now, his expression changing. He reached for his glass, took another draught, set it down again.
‘Those differences,’ he said slowly, ‘are lessening.’
His gaze rested on her and she kept looking at him, gaze unflinching. When she spoke, her voice was flat.
‘That’s because I’m Matteo’s niece. Because I’m wearing a dress I couldn’t have afforded on a month’s wages pulling pints. Because now I can speak RP instead of what you’d probably call Cockney. Because now I’m a university graduate, not a barmaid. That’s all, Luca. The differences between us go much deeper than that. Much deeper.’
She took another breath, a steadying one. There were things she needed to say—things it was time for her to acknowledge. Acknowledge and accept. And as she spoke she knew she was speaking to herself, not just to Luca. He needed to hear her so he could understand, as she now could, just why she had wanted to hang on to him six years ago.
She held her gaze on him and her voice was steady as she spoke. Unemotional. Painfully honest.
‘Luca, when I so desperately wanted you to take me with you when you left London, to go anywhere that you went, it was because I was besotted with you. You were like no one I’d ever met before—from a different world, as you threw at me at the end. You might have thought I wanted the luxury that came with you, but it wasn’t just that—it was never just that. Yes, I got a kick out of it—you know I did—but the reason I wanted to go with you was not for that.’
She stopped. Then made herself go on. Haltingly, but with an honesty she was only just recognising in herself.
‘Luca, our time together meant a lot to me—more than I realised, I think. I thought it was fun and glamour and excitement and sex, and I didn’t want that to end. But…’ She paused, trying to put into words what she never had before. ‘But I know now that what I also wanted was…was something else. I wanted,’ she said, her eyes on him unflinchingly, ‘someone to belong to.’
For a moment she did not say any more. Then words began to fill her head, coming out in her speaking voice.
‘I’d never belonged to anyone. My father had never existed…my mother I had almost no memories of. My aunt resented me and didn’t want me. No one gave a damn about me. I’m not saying this to get your pity—only for you to understand why I was so…so desperate.’