‘You’re staying here.’
He was about to dive back beneath the water again, but Lexi grabbed his arm to stop him. ‘That is not your decision to make. Marco was my friend too, you know. I liked him!’
Shrugging her hand aside, he just turned and hit the water, then swam off! Bristling with frustration, Lexi heaved herself back out of the pool, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her as she stalked off towards the house. Entering the back way, she headed grimly for the kitchens, found Pietro there enjoying a mid-morning snack, and asked if he would mind taking her into Livorno in half an hour.
Of course he couldn’t say no to her, but she could tell by his wary expression as he agreed that he wished he could. It was the flickering way he glanced over her shoulder that made her realise why he was looking so wary. Franco stood a few feet behind her. As she spun around to look at him she caught the tail end of his frowning exchange with the other man.
Snapping her lips together, she pushed right past his obstructive frame and headed for the stairs. If he made it necessary she would call for a taxi to come and collect her, she decided stubbornly.
She’d pulled on a towelling robe and was scrambling through her small assortment of clothes looking for something to wear when she sensed Franco lounging in the bedroom doorway—the bedroom next door to the one they’d been sharing for the last four days.
‘I’m not playing this game any more,’ she announced without looking at him. ‘I’ve let you get away with it for long enough.’
‘I know.’
‘You assured me days ago that you were not going to do something stup
id, so you can quit with the blocking tactics—What do you mean, you know?’
Turning, she almost forgot how to breathe when she saw him standing there wearing nothing more than a pair of low riding swimming shorts and a towel hanging around his neck. He looked so much like the Franco from that long golden summer it came as a shock.
He shrugged a wide, still wet shoulder, the expression in his eyes shadowed by his spiky eyelashes. ‘You cannot abide most of the people who will be there.’
‘I am not paying my respects to them,’ Lexi pointed out.
His small sigh accepted that. ‘I predict it will be more like a circus than a funeral—the press will be crawling around all over the place, and you would have to be nice to Claudia.’
‘I can do nice when I know I need to,’ Lexi said stiffly, interpreting from his words that he didn’t want her to go to Marco’s funeral because he was afraid she would get into an unseemly cat fight with Claudia. ‘I played nice with Claudia when she was here weeping all over you. I can also appreciate that she has just lost her brother. You forget—I’ve been there. I lost my mother not so long ago. I remember how bad it feels to lose someone you love.’
‘OK …’ He moved, taking the towel from around his neck to use it to rub his wet hair. ‘I don’t want you there.’
Hurt beyond bearing by that blunt announcement, Lexi felt herself go pale. ‘Are you ashamed of me or something?’
He should have come back with a quick, explosive no, but he did not answer, and his silence was like a stiletto sliding smoothly into her chest. Lexi turned back to the clothes closet and blindly selected something to wear with fingers that shook so badly she dropped the skirt she’d slid from its hanger and had to bend to pick it up.
‘It is not a case of being ashamed, Lexi,’ he sighed out suddenly. ‘I just want to protect you from any cruel gossip that might blow up.’
But he’d spoken too late, and his explanation did not make any sense—unless …
‘Gossip about you and your other women, by any chance? Well, since you put that subject on the banned list, along with just about everything and everyone else, let me inform you that I have an imagination, Franco. I’ve already worked out that more than half the women there will probably know you as intimately as I do—including Claudia!’
‘Damn it,’ he said again. ‘That is not what I meant!’
‘Well, try speaking in straightforward sentences!’ she launched at him. ‘Because all you’ve done since I came back to Italy is toss out these cryptic messages to me, so how am I supposed to know what you mean? Oh, although I do recall you being very eloquent about my relationship with Bruce!’
‘Don’t bring him back into this,’ Franco growled irritably. ‘I have something I need to tell you, but I’ve been trying hard to hang on until after the funeral. The thing is, I cannot be sure how many other people know, so I would rather not put you in the firing line for a bloody great shock.’
‘Then get it over with and tell me now.’
‘No,’ he muttered.
‘Why?’ she persisted.
‘Because I want to damn well wait!’ He lost his rag so spectacularly he made Lexi blink at him. ‘Santa cielo,’ he rasped, throwing his hands up, ‘can I not be allowed to get through the next twenty-four hours without all this aggravation from you? Why can’t you just trust that I know what I am doing? Is it too much to expect plain and simple support from you for one more day?’
He was talking about Marco. It finally registered with Lexi that he’d been engaging his blocking tactics since she’d arrived here in Italy because the ‘something’ he was keeping from her involved his closest friend. Now the grey pallor was definitely back, she saw, and the strain was dragging on his features, almost painful to see.
‘OK,’ she whispered. ‘I won’t ask again until you’re ready to tell me.’