He frowned. ‘No.’
‘You took it as a come-on.’
‘Did I?’
‘You did. And you said you weren’t interested. But it wasn’t an invitation at all. I just wanted to chat to you about my brother.’
‘I apologise,’ he muttered, now recalling how Kate’s grief had been too great for his guilt to handle and how in response he’d shut down, operating on automatic. ‘It was a tough afternoon.’
‘You’re telling me.’
‘How are you dealing with it?’
She bit her lip. ‘I’m getting there. Most days I’m okay, but every now and then it hits me like a bolt from the blue. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. The grief, I mean. It’s not as if I’m a stranger to it. I’ve lost more than most people do in a lifetime. Yet it still gets me right here.’ She pressed her hand to her heart and rubbed. ‘But there’s nothing I can
do about it. I can’t change anything. So I have to just get on with it.’ She tilted her head and regarded him thoughtfully. ‘I do think, though, that if he’d lived, Mike would have been a good friend to you.’
The vice that had gripped Theo’s chest in response to her suffering tightened. What could he say to that? He could hardly admit that he’d never have let things get that far. That the damage caused by his mother’s rejection was irreversible and that the traces of it still affected the way he viewed every single person he met. ‘Perhaps.’
‘What are your other friends like?’
Non-existent. Which was fine with him. He didn’t want or need friends. He was better off alone. Always. More importantly, other people were better off if things were that way. And this conversation was over.
‘Quiet,’ he said bluntly. ‘Unobtrusive. They don’t ask questions and they let me get on with my work.’
‘Ah. Right,’ she said with the flash of a grin that hit him square in the gut. ‘Point taken. I’ll leave you to it.’
* * *
They landed at Linate Airport mid-afternoon and the minute she stepped off the plane, Kate felt as if she could once again breathe, despite the thirty-degree heat.
How hard it had been to focus on her book when her attention kept wandering, her gaze drifting over to where Theo was sitting, head down, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked at his laptop. How hard it had been not to think about the suite at the back of the plane with its enormous bed just begging to be rumpled. And then there’d been the urge to strike up the conversation again, which had been so insistent that her jaw ached with the effort of keeping her mouth shut.
Truth be told, she found Theo increasingly intriguing. Now she’d had an unexpected taste of conversation that went beyond pleasantries, she wanted more because she had the feeling there was a lot going on behind that cold, steely facade. She saw it in the occasional flicker in his eyes and the way his jaw sometimes tightened.
Despite her best intentions to remain aloof and keep his ruthlessness at the forefront of her mind like some sort of shield, she could feel her opinion of him beginning to soften. She might have called him cold and merciless and lacking in empathy, but that wasn’t all he was. His misplaced guilt over Mike’s death and the apology for his behaviour at the funeral had been genuine. Then there was that hint of humour when he’d effectively told her to shut up, which was all the more attractive because of its rarity. And now there was the car that was waiting for them on the tarmac, a gorgeous bright red convertible, low, sleek and powerful. Was it at all possible that he’d remembered what she’d once said about always wanting a nippy little convertible? What would it mean if he had?
Nothing sensible, she thought, if the warm fuzzy feeling spreading through her at the mere possibility was anything to go by. And certainly nothing that merited further analysis. She could not afford to let herself get distracted. She must not seek rainbows where there were none. She had to keep control of her wayward imagination and her precarious emotions and focus on the reality of her situation.
‘Nice wheels,’ she said, watching in admiration as Theo hefted their luggage into the boot as if it weighed nothing.
‘It was all that was left,’ he said and slammed the boot shut before striding round to the passenger door and opening it.
Oh. Right. Well, that cleared that up. Good. And frankly what did it matter how this car had ended up here? She still got to ride in it. So that annoying stab of disappointment could get lost.
‘Lucky me,’ she said with a bright, slightly forced smile as she walked towards him. ‘No chauffeur?’
‘I like to drive,’ he said, unhooking his sunglasses from the v of his shirt and putting them on. ‘Get in.’
* * *
By the time Theo pulled off the road an hour and a half later and drove through a pair of giant iron gates, Kate had come to a number of conclusions.
Firstly, the northern Italian countryside in summer was stunning. It had taken a while to get out of Milan, but once they’d left the suburbs there’d been nothing but lush greenery and an abundance of beautiful wild flowers. Secondly, there was something impossibly sexy about a gorgeous man driving a fast car in the sunshine, with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and sunglasses on. And thirdly, it turned out she had a thing for competence.
The way Theo handled the powerful car was nothing short of masterful. Unlike many of the other road users, he didn’t drive recklessly. In the city he kept his cool when everyone else seemed to be yelling and gesticulating wildly, and on the open road that had brought them to the edge of Lake Como, he stuck more or less to the speed limit and didn’t overtake on blind bends.
Safe. That was how she felt with him. Everything he did was calculated. Measured. He liked to be in control and he was careful. Maybe that was why he refused to engage with the pregnancy. Maybe it represented a careless moment that he was in denial about. Or maybe he really just didn’t care.