Angelo nodded. ‘A holiday. An excellent idea after all that’s happened.’
Ally spread her hands. ‘Originally it was going to be more than a holiday.’ That was in the days before Gran’s death when she’d dreamed of a fact-finding trip. ‘I’ve always been interested in scent-making. I’d planned to use the lavender farm as a springboard into that.’
She stopped. Without the farm, she needed to find a new dream. Uncle Ben had plans for the place that didn’t include perfume-making or bee-keeping. When she returned to Australia she’d have to find a new job and a new home. A different dream.
‘But, yes, it’s a short vacation. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see something of the world.’
Because she’d had to get away and it was easier to head for the place she’d always wanted to visit than devise a new itinerary.
Ally didn’t have formal qualifications. When she did find work it would probably be poorly paid. She doubted she’d have another chance for overseas travel.
She looked from the garden to the tall man watching her, the man she cared for too much, and told herself it was a good thing she was moving on.
Angelo was protective but that was all. His first thought, on learning she remembered her past, was to ask where she wanted to be and if he could help her get there.
He didn’t want her as she did him. He merely felt sorry for her and obliged to help her. Even the sexual attraction between them had been short-lived, a mistake on his part because he’d believed her to be someone else.
Ally felt her heart crumple as the last of her dreams shrivelled. She angled her chin up and turned away. ‘Shall we go? I’d rather not see Oliver tonight.’
Angelo poured a glass of red wine with numb fingers. His muscles were taut, his movements uncoordinated, because witnessing Ally in distress had undone him.
He knew about grief, but he still had his beloved mother and sister. Who did Ally have?
‘Here. It will warm you up.’
She looked up from the settee where she’d collapsed on their return. For a moment he thought she’d refuse, as she’d refused all alcohol before. Instead she reached for the glass, carefully grasping it so that their hands didn’t brush, before taking a cautious sip.
Regret pierced him. A yearning for her touch. The profound need toconnect. She was hurting and he wanted to hold her, comfort her.
It would comfort him too, having her in his arms. Because he’d missed her there, though they’d only had one night together.
He swung away and poured himself a glass of wine, despising his neediness. This wasn’t about him but what was best for Ally.
It seemed that, despite her readiness to sink into his embrace half an hour ago, she didn’t want solace from him now. Would that change if he gave her time and space?
An unseen weight pressed between his shoulder blades.
‘What can I do, Ally? What would help?’
If he could be useful he’d feel better. He was accustomed to taking charge and making things happen.
Shadowed eyes met his. They looked dazed and his fingers curled tighter around the stem of his glass.
‘You offered to arrange transport.’
Angelo’s heart shrank. ‘Of course. When you’ve had time to sort yourself out—’
She shook her head, her honey-coloured hair sliding around her neck. ‘There’s no point in delaying.’
Her gaze shifted to the ruby wine in her glass.
Because she couldn’t bear to look at him? He stiffened.
Angelo had imagined today that they’d reached a new level of understanding, friendship even. But tonight’s revelations made it starkly clear how poorly he’d treated her, a woman grieving the loss of a loved one and, if he read the situation right, her dreams too.
‘I’d like you to stay. Take your time and recover completely. I’ll look after you—’
‘No!’ Her strident syllable gashed his windpipe, stopping his words. ‘I don’t need you to look after me! I’m not your responsibility. What Ineedis to leave.’