‘It’s another priceless trinket, offered with some sort of unnecessary ulterior motive for simply doing my job.’
Ignoring her, he pried the lid open. Despite herself, her gaze dropped. Along with her heart and her jaw.
Because, by far, this was the most stunning present he’d ever given her. The yellow diamonds were too many to count. He’d probably cleaned out Harry Winston’s entire supply for this necklace, never mind the matching teardrop earrings, cuff bracelet and what looked suspiciously like an anklet.
‘Why do you do this?’ she whispered brokenly.
‘I like to reward a job well done.’
‘You don’t need to buy me, Joao. I’m already—’ She stopped herself at the last moment, self-preservation prompting her on a different path. ‘Why did you keep the housing project a secret from me?’
The box snapped shut and he tossed it on the table as if it were worth nothing. ‘Because it’s no one’s business but mine.’
The punch of hurt shouldn’t have felt so disproportionately agonising, but it did. Because her feelings for him were larger than life.
‘There’s nothing extraordinary about providing decent homes for those who need them,’ he continued with suppressed tension in his voice. ‘It’s a simple case of supply and demand.’
‘Don’t belittle your achievements, Joao, especially not one that clearly means so much to you,’ she said softly. ‘This is where you disappear to on Christmas Day, isn’t it?’
Again he smiled an empty smile. ‘Watch it. Next you’ll be accusing me of playing Santa.’
‘I wouldn’t stoop so low. But I will say that while you may not think yourself a knight in shining armour, you’re certainly theirs.’
‘There you go, romanticising again. I’m not the man you take me for, Saffie.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with admitting that you wished someone else had done the same for your mother, that if you’d had somewhere to go maybe your childhood would’ve been less...’
‘Less dire? Less horrific? What’s the point of wishing? The past cannot be changed.’
‘I know. But you’re changing the present and the future. I just don’t get why you feel it’s something to hide.’
‘There’s a difference between keeping something private and hiding.’
‘But why—?’
‘Why would I not shout to the world that I’m the son of a prostitute? That my own father didn’t want me?’ he slanted at her, his voice a bleak desert.
‘Joao—’
‘Enough, Saffie. Do you still intend to leave me?’ The question was raw, charged.
The urge to say no flew to her lips. She stopped herself at the last moment. ‘That depends.’
A tic throbbed at his temple. ‘I’m not good with ultimatums.’
She sucked in a sustaining breath, her palms growing clammy with the realisation that she had to navigate carefully. ‘It’s not an ultimatum. It’s... I just want to know where I stand.’
His jaw rippled. ‘You stand where you’ve always stood. At my right hand.’
Her heart dropped but she forced herself to go on. ‘I don’t mean with your work, Joao. I mean with this...thing between us. With our babies.’ With my heart. ‘I know you want to claim these babies as yours too but...’ she licked dry lips, her heart hammering wildly ‘...will you do it with me in the picture, too?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘What exactly are you asking me, Saffie?’
‘You know what I’m asking. A proper commitment.’
He turned to stone. ‘One bound in hearts and roses, perhaps?’ he added bitingly. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you but that will never be on the table.’
‘Why?’ The question cried out from her fractured heart.