Bella frowned when she thought of how she had behaved back then by choosing her social life over her father. It wasn’t just an attempt on her part to avoid Edoardo after that kiss. Her relationship with her father had never really been the same after her mother had left. He had thrown himself into work, spending long hours in the study or going on business trips and leaving her with babysitters.
When he was at home he’d hardly seemed aware she was there. She had felt frustrated that she couldn’t get close to him. She had been frightened he might leave her too and had perversely done everything she could to drive him away. She had blamed him for her mother leaving and had acted out dreadfully. She had thrown terrible tantrums. She had screamed, railed and deliberately made things difficult for him. The various nannies he had employed hadn’t stayed long. In the end she had agreed to go to boarding school even though she hadn’t really wanted to go. ‘Was he lonely, do you think?’ she asked. ‘Did he miss me?’
‘Of course he did,’ he said, frowning slightly.
‘He never said.’
‘It wasn’t his way,’ he said.
Bella toyed with the edge of her plate. ‘After my mother left...it was difficult to get close to him,’ she said. ‘He seemed to shut himself away. Work became his entire focus. I didn’t think he cared what happened to me. I think I reminded him too much of Mum.’
‘He was hurt,’ he said. ‘Your mother’s affair totally gutted him.’
Guilt felt like a yoke around her shoulders. She had made it so much worse. Why had she been so selfish? Why couldn’t she have comforted her father instead of pushing him away? She had ended up hurting him just as much as her mother. She looked at Edoardo again. ‘You really cared about him, didn’t you?’ she asked.
‘He had his faults,’ he said. ‘But basically he was a good man. I had a lot of respect for him.’
‘I think he saw you as the son he never had,’ she said. ‘I was jealous about that. I never felt good enough.’
He frowned again. ‘He loved you more than life itself.’
Bella gave a shrug. ‘I was just a girl,’ she said. ‘He was of the generation where sons were everything to a man. He loved me, but I always knew that deep down he thought I was just like my mother. I suspect that’s why he orchestrated things the way he did. He didn’t think I had the sense to make my own decisions.’
‘He was concerned you would be too trusting,’ he said. ‘He didn’t want you to be hoodwinked by shallow charm or empty compliments.’
‘So he appointed you as gatekeeper,’ Bella said with more than a little hint of wryness. ‘A man who never wastes time on charm or compliments.’
He took a contemplative sip of his wine. ‘I can be charming when I need to be.’
She gave a little laugh. ‘I’d like to see that.’
There was a little silence.
‘You look stunningly beautiful tonight,’ he said.
She shifted restively in her seat. ‘Stop it, Edoardo.’
‘I sometimes fantasise about you being in bed with me.’
She blushed to the roots of her hair. ‘You’re not being charming,’ she said. ‘You’re being lewd.’
He leaned forward with his forearms resting on the table, his eyes locking on hers. ‘I feel you in my arms,’ he said. ‘I feel your body wrap itself tightly around me. You feel it too, don’t you, Bella? You feel me driving into you. You feel it right now: hard. Thick. Strong.’
She swallowed tightly. ‘Why are you doing this?’
He leaned back in his chair and picked up his wine. ‘I want you.’
She gave him a haughty glare. ‘I’m not yours to have.’
His eyes challenged hers in a hot little tussle that had her spine tingling like high-voltage electricity. ‘You’ve always been mine, Bella,’ he said. ‘That’s why you hate me so much. You don’t want to admit how much you want me. It shames you to think you lust after a bad boy with no pedigree. It’s not done in your highbrow circles, is it? You’re not supposed to slum it with the ill-bred. You’re supposed to mingle your blood with the high flyers, but you just can’t help yourself, can you? You want me.’
‘I would rather boil in oil,’ she said looking down her nose at him. ‘You have no right to speak to me this way. I’ve done nothing to encourage you to think I...I fancy you.’ Or at least not since I was a silly little