Her cheeks flooded with peach. Of course she remembered. She remembered everything he’d ever said, as though he’d imprinted his words against the iron of her soul, branding her for all time.
‘So it’s not like you were out being all irresponsible or anything. You were working hard.’
‘I was doing both,’ he said seriously. ‘I worked hard. Played harder.’
Jealousy fired through her and she hated it. For one thing, she’d still been a child when he had been twenty-two. There was no way she could be threatened by the fact he’d had relationships before her.
The waiter appeared silently, and another waitress behind him who carried a tray with champagne flutes; champagne and a platter of food.
‘Compliments of the establishment,’ the waiter murmured, placing the food and drinks down, bowing low and then disappearing.
‘I suppose it would be rude to tell him we don’t want champagne?’
He ignored her question. ‘I didn’t think having children made sense.’ He shrugged. ‘But that decision is now out of my hands.’
She tilted her face away, staring out at the Grand Canal and the hustle and bustle of Venice in the afternoon.
It was a city like no other.
Its character changed so completely depending on what time of day it was. Now, in the early afternoon, the strada were crowded with tourists, big and happy, wearing hats and cameras and beaming smiles, talking loudly and laughing and eating as they walked, making their way back to the cruise terminal, ready to continue their tour of Europe.
Come night time, the streets would be filled with Venetians, promenading elegantly, speaking quietly, their voices taking on a musical quality as they lulled against the canals.
‘Of course it’s not...ideal,’ she said jerkily. ‘I meant what I said when I came to see you. I want a divorce.’ Her voice wobbled and she forced herself to be calm, digging her nails into her palms. ‘But I can understand why you want to give this a chance.’ She swallowed. ‘So I think we should try this. Try to make it work. For the baby’s sake.’
His eyes held a quality that filled her with something strange. Emotions were rioting beneath her skin. ‘A real marriage?’
‘No.’ Her smile was wistful. ‘It will never be that. We’ll both know that it’s just for our son or daughter. But I’ll stop fighting this. I’ll try to make a life here. A life outside of you.’ She breathed out softly then turned to face him. ‘But if I’m miserable, I’ll go. And I will trust that deep down, beneath the way you are, beyond being ruthless and determined and cold, there is a good man who will be reasonable and treat me with respect, for the sake of our child.’ She tilted her chin at a defiant angle, and Matteo was silent. The champagne bottle sat between them, mocking the seriousness of their discussion with its frothy enthusiasm.
‘So pragmatic,’ he murmured after a long pause. Was Skye imagining the way his words were deepened by emotion?
‘I took a page out of your book,’ she volleyed back.
‘You perfected it, it would appear.’
* * *
Matteo stared out at the canal, his expression sombre.
How could he argue with such impeccable logic? He couldn’t. For all his bluster and bravado, had he really expected he’d keep Skye locked up in his house forever? Had he thought he could threaten her with a custody battle and that she’d give up her life and freedom to be in a marriage that made her miserable?
It wasn’t as though he could outgun her on the legal side. She had endless resources and a great reputation. If anything, attacking her in the courts would backfire badly, given her age and philanthropic history. And his reputation as a cold, heartless bastard.
‘Matteo? You’re a thousand miles away.’
He blinked, drawing his attention back to Skye. She was lifting a final spoonful of the dessert to her lips. Lips that were pink and full and that drew his gaze as a flower did a bee.
His stomach lurched. Desire, unfathomable, irrepressible desire, swarmed him.
‘I was thinking about the bridge,’ he said after a moment’s pause.
‘The Rialto?’
He nodded, a gruff shift of his head. ‘You know, it took a heap of money to build. They had to get funds from lots of different sources. There was even a sort of early iteration of the lottery that raised money for its construction.’
Skye tilted her head to the side. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘I was thinking that sometimes taking a gamble on something pays off. Sometimes it can lead to something unique and lasting.’ He turned his attention back to her. ‘Don’t you think?’