‘Oh, thank you.’ Skye nodded, moving towards the table. Matteo watched as she pulled a seat out and arranged a napkin on her lap, all without meeting his eyes.
Her indifference infuriated him.
So too her air of cold detachment, when he knew how heated she was. He’d felt her heat—even in the hospital it had burst between them, flaring up out of nowhere. But now she had her long hair scraped back into a simple braid that ran down her back, the thick fringe sitting in silent judgement of him, and dressed in clothes that had been hers before. Clothes that had been left, hanging in her wardrobe, all the weeks that she had been away...
‘So, Skye,’ he drawled, waiting until she was settled before taking the seat opposite. He kicked back in his chair a little, his eyes unable to hide their mocking as they latched to hers. ‘What exactly was your plan?’
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘It seems irrelevant now.’
His expression was unchanged. ‘You were going to fly off into the Australian sunset?’
Her eyes flew to his, shock holding her body rigid. ‘How did you—?’
‘How did I know?’ he interrupted scathingly. ‘Your handbag had your ticket. So this was going to be a fly in, fly out divorce?’
She swallowed, the slender column of her throat moving visibly as she tried to keep her calm. ‘Was I supposed to spend the weekend?’ she fired back sarcastically, reaching for a water glass and sipping from it without shying away from his look. ‘Did you want to take me sightseeing? One last ride down the Grand Canal?’
‘Given that you’re carrying my child, I would have expected a degree of consultation, yes. Of course, knowing your father as I do, I’m not sure why I am so surprised.’
She looked away, his statement instantly chastening her and angering her in equal measure. But she had no reason to be cowered by him. Not after what he’d done. ‘That brings us to the important point, doesn’t it? If you’d been honest with me from the beginning, we wouldn’t be in this situation,’ she pointed out.
‘And because you think I lied, you felt it appropriate to repay me by keeping my child from me?’ he demanded, reaching for the serving spoon and passing it to Skye.
‘You did lie.’ She took the implement, avoiding an accidental brush with his fingers as though they contained the plague. ‘And this wasn’t about repaying you.’
‘No? So why not tell me about the baby?’
Skye stared at him long and hard, then shook her head. How could she answer that without admitting how much she’d loved him? Without telling her husband that his betrayal had broken her heart? Not just once, but every morning when she’d had to wake up and remember, anew, that he wasn’t in bed beside her.
Pride kept her silent on that score. That he’d hurt her was bad enough—giving him the satisfaction of knowing just how
badly was something she wanted to keep all to herself.
‘Why not speak to me about the hotel in the first instance?’ She pushed back, scooping a moderate amount of risotto onto her plate and sitting back in her chair. ‘If you’d told me you wanted it, if you’d offered to buy it, I would have given that thought.’
‘And you might have said no,’ he responded, the words hardened by the long years he’d spent trying to get the hotel back. ‘How did you learn the truth?’
‘I asked our family lawyer about it,’ she said quietly. ‘He told me all about the feud with Dad. The fact you’d tried to buy the hotel. That Dad had said no. That you’d threatened to destroy him. That you’d “make him pay”.’ The threat sent a shiver running down Skye’s spine. Marrying her would indeed have been a punishment to her father, had he lived to see it.
‘That same lawyer would have stopped you from selling to me.’
Skye swallowed, silently admitting that there was truth in that. Had she not loved Matteo, would she have sold an asset to a man reputed to be ruthless and selfish just because he wanted it? Would she have sold a damned thing to someone who’d been a sworn enemy of her father? She shrugged, feigning uncertainty. ‘You don’t know that. I certainly didn’t.’
‘I knew it,’ he said, the words hardened like steel.
‘So, what? You decided to seduce me, to propose to me, to make me believe I was in love with you? To take my virginity? And all so you could get me to sign some stupid hotel over to you?’
He turned his face away, his profile resolute. ‘The hotel that you disdain means the world to me. Losing it was not an option.’
‘Oh, go to hell,’ she snapped, scraping her chair back and standing jerkily. ‘So that makes this okay? Me being collateral damage is something you can make your peace with because you wanted the hotel?’
He compressed his lips, studying the slender silhouette of her figure, backlit by the evening light.
‘It should never have been sold. I had to return it to my family. It was my duty.’
Skye’s eyes feathered closed, her lashes forming two dark half-crescents against her cheeks. But it was confirmation—confirmation she didn’t really need but somehow was useful to have. It was something to hold tight to her chest, to warn her from letting him anywhere near her heart ever again.
‘It was all a lie to you. A game.’ She bit down on her lip, the reality one that even now she found she couldn’t quite face.