‘Yes, but only because she loves you so much.’
‘And you have a question about my first wife?’
She knew him well enough to know he hated the idea of talking about her, but he stared straight at Olivia, holding her gaze. Fearless. Determined. In control.
‘It’s not really a question.’ She furrowed her brow. ‘Only...you must have loved her very much.’
He gripped the stem of his Prosecco flute until his knuckles glowed white. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Am I wrong?’
He glared at her, and she knew he wanted to avoid the question, but this was Luca. He didn’t shy away from difficult conversations. With a small exhalation of breath, he shifted in his seat, his pose a study in relaxation. Only Olivia could see beyond it, to the tension radiating from his frame.
‘I was young and idealistic.’
‘So you didn’t love her?’
His nostrils flared. ‘I would have died for her. I loved her with all that I was, Olivia. But I think, at that age, love felt like a rite of passage. I can’t say that I would feel that way for her if we met now.’
Something like danger prickled along Olivia’s spine. ‘Or for anyone?’
He dipped his head in agreement, without hesitation, and it was that lack of pause that cut her to the quick. If he felt anything for her, she would have seen it then.
‘And you believed she loved you?’
Cynicism curled his lips. ‘Naturalmente.’ The word dripped with sarcasm. ‘It never occurred to me that she was using me for money.’
Indignation flared in Olivia’s gut. ‘I can’t imagine anyone fooling you.’
‘I’m not the same man now that I was then.’
‘Because of her?’
‘Because of life.’
‘But Jayne is the reason you’ve sworn off relationships.’
‘I have relationships. You’ve seen the pictures on the Internet, remember?’
Pain lashed her heart. She forced herself to be brave. ‘That’s sex. I’m talking about emotion. I’m talking about connection.’
There was a storm raging in his eyes but he didn’t look away. ‘Sex is the only kind of relationship I’m interested in.’
‘Doesn’t that get lonely?’
His lips curled into an approximation of a smile, but it spread like ice through her veins. ‘Are you lonely, cara?’
Beneath the table, his fingers sought her knee first, then higher, to her thigh, shifting the fabric of her skirt with ease so he could touch his skin to hers. She bit back a soft moan.
‘What we have is just sex, and yet it suits us both perfectly, no?’
No. She wanted to scream her answer. She wanted to scream it at him as she punched his chest, but how could she? He hadn’t said anything wrong. It was perfectly in line with what they’d agreed.
‘And after this, you’ll find someone else to have “just sex” with?’
It was like laying down a gauntlet, forcing them both to face a reality that Olivia personally wanted to hide from.
Her blood began to hammer inside her, and she could hardly breathe. She waited, and she waited, and agony invaded her every cell, until finally, he shrugged indolently. ‘As, I imagine, will you.’