It was Ciro. It must be. There was a tension to his body that hadn’t been there before and he clearly didn’t want her to hear his conversation.
Moments earlier she had been laughing in his warm arms. Now, though, she felt as if someone had slapped her in the face. For the last few days she had all but forgotten how he and Ciro had plotted together against her family. Now here was a blunt reminder.
Her body stiffening with misery, she watched him pace back and forth, his head bent over the phone, and then, picking up her book, she walked quickly back into the villa.
Inside it was dark and cool and she felt some of her panic recede.
Nothing had changed.
So why did she feel as if it had?
‘Imma?’
She turned. Vicè was standing behind her, a frown still touching his handsome face.
‘I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to take you down the coast today.’ His eyes avoided hers. ‘Something’s come up—’
‘What’s he done now?’ Her heart was suddenly thumping so hard she could hardly speak. Claudia had sounded fine earlier, but—
‘Who?’ He stared at her uncomprehendingly.
‘Your brother.’
‘Ciro?’ His eyes widened. ‘I don’t know. I wasn’t talking to him. That was my mother.’
Her pulse slowed. She saw that his face had none of its usual animation, and something in the set of his shoulders made her hold her breath.
‘Is she okay?’
Vicè had told her very little about his mother. All she knew was that Audenzia had moved to Florence, to live with her sister and brother-in-law.
He shook his head. ‘She’s had a fall.’
‘Oh, Vicè...’ Reaching out, she touched his hand. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘She’s okay—just a bit shaken up. She’s not alone. My aunt and uncle are with her. But—’
‘She wants you.’ She finished his sentence. ‘Of course she does. We can leave right now. I’ll go and get changed.’
‘You want to come with me?’ He looked confused.
‘Of course. You can’t go all that way on your own.’ Now it was her turn to look confused. ‘And besides, won’t it look odd if I don’t go with you?’
He didn’t reply and she stared at him, suddenly mortified. Earlier, in bed and when they’d been laughing by the pool, she had been lulled into forgetting that this was just a mutually convenient arrangement.
But clearly Vicè hadn’t forgotten. For him, this was still about sun and sex and drinking cocktails by the pool. It was obvious—should have been obvious to her—that his mother would be off limits. He didn’t need or want her there for reasons that were glaringly self-evident.
She felt his fingers tighten around hers.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said slowly. ‘I’d love you to come with me. It just didn’t occur to me that you’d want to.’
‘No, I’m sorry.’ She tried to smile. ‘I mean, why would you want me there? After everything my father’s done?’
‘I don’t care about what your father did.’ A muscle flickered in his jaw and he pulled her closer. ‘Look at me, Imma. I don’t care—not any more. I told you that’s over. Done. Finished. Forgotten. I just didn’t want you to have to lie to my mother that’s all, to pretend that you love me—’
Her arms tightened around him. ‘This isn’t about me. It’s about your mother. So if you want me to be there, I’ll be there.’
Tipping her face up to his, he kissed her softly. ‘I’d like that very much.’