Paolo’s heart jerked. He took his foot off the accelerator and drew a subtle breath, focusing on keeping both of them alive in heavy traffic as he absorbed how rough a time Lauren had been through.
It bothered him that he’d known nothing about her anguish, but why should he have? His coping strategy had been to avoid her and he had. He was nevertheless deeply disturbed by the fact that she had needed her husband and Ryan hadn’t responded.#p#????#e#
“I’m sorry you lost her, Lauren. I don’t think I’ve said that and it’s always been apparent to me what she meant to you.” He reached across and squeezed her hand, the sexual tension there but subdued. He was utterly sincere in his condolences.
Lauren squeezed back, but released him right away and he thought it was to keep her emotions under control. Her voice was thick as she said, “Losing her was really hard. She was always the one to pick me up when my stepfather’s kids knocked me down.”
“Physically? They hurt you?” His protective instincts gathered.
“Emotionally. My father died when I was six. Mom never worked outside the home so when the insurance money ran out she needed a husband to support her. Gerald worked in the oil patch and had three kids. He was away a lot and I guess he thought Mom filled the void. If they love each other, I’ve never seen it. His kids hated us being in their home and tortured us when Gerald wasn’t there, calling me praying mantis and stealing my things. They were awful. My only relief was visiting Mamie, but Mom limited my time with her, afraid she’d poison me with self-assurance I guess. Although, Mamie could be a brat,” Lauren confided with a grin of appreciation. “She spoiled me, sending me the latest gadgets and designer clothes. It’s no wonder Gerald’s kids hated me. They must have been jealous.”
“I like her style,” Paolo said with affection for a woman he’d only met once, but whose fragile, yet elegant beauty had left an impression.
“She liked yours,” Lauren countered with a smirk. “Every time I came home from Charleston she’d ask, ‘Did you see that sexy Italian from your wedding?’”
“What would she tell you to do now? Marry me?” Paolo challenged lightly.
Lauren was quiet a long time, then said to the side window, “She’d say don’t marry for any reason but love. You don’t want to be tied down when you find the person you’re meant to be with.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
DESPITE THE GRANDNESS of Paolo’s ancestral home, it was very much that: a home. The villa was set behind an ornate gate on an expansive estate of fountains and sprawling trees, but children played in the hedge maze and men smoked on a terrace off the second floor. Winter pansies shivered in ceramic pots at the front doors.
They arrived as a very pregnant woman was unloading children from a limo. Paolo moved to greet the woman with an embrace and kiss, agreeing to her children’s pleas to join them on the lawn after he said hello to his mother.
“This is not Isabella,” the woman said with a significant look from Lauren to Paolo.
“No, this is Lauren Bradley,” Paolo said, explaining to Lauren, “Maria is the second of my three sisters, all younger. She runs our branch in Switzerland. Her husband is with the Red Cross and must be overseas?” He looked to Maria.
“On his way back from that flood in Asia, which wasn’t as horrific as feared, thankfully. It seems the earth-shattering events are happening at home today. What’s going on, caro fratello?” Maria kept her tone artificially playful. “I thought the old Paolo had only been visiting three months ago. Has he returned to stay?”
Lauren heard the underlying hardness as clearly as Paolo did. He pulled away from the patronizing way Maria tried to thumb her lipstick off her brother’s cheek. Lauren couldn’t help but draw in on herself, assaulted by ignominy.
“Lauren is our guest, Maria. Don’t make her feel uncomfortable. I don’t like it.” Paolo took Lauren’s hand and pulled her into the house.#p#????#e#
Lauren stumbled a little, feeling Maria’s gaze like a dagger in her spine, but she was too terrified to look back and see what the woman was truly thinking. Apologies choked up her throat, but she couldn’t voice them, not when Maria’s reference to “the old Paolo” reminded Lauren of his promiscuous past and that she, Lauren, was merely his latest conquest.
A conquest full of consequences.
They moved purposefully through a classically decorated house. It was more richly appointed than her mother’s tasteful house where only company sat on the good furniture. People leaned and perched and nested everywhere, all talking a mile a minute, hands gesturing, all creating a din of cheerful Italian and bursts of laughter.