He stood against the door jamb, casually reclined, as though he had not a care in the world, but there was something in his face, a mask of concentration, that made a mockery of his pose.
‘Why are you packing? You don’t leave for two nights.’
Two days. The words were like thunderclaps in her chest.
‘I like to be organized,’ she offered with a tight smile.
He said nothing for some time, simply watched her, and then, finally, his words broke the silence that was tightening the air in the room.
‘I’ve been thinking.’
She continued with what she was doing, but her actions were stilted, because she was having to concentrate hard on such a simple task. Everything felt unnatural.
‘Well, that’s good, I suppose.’ She aimed for levity, even when her cells were reverberating with a desperate need to know what he’d been thinking.
‘When we agreed to get married, it was for a very specific purpose. Each of us benefited, and we made sure the marriage would work for us both—by having clear-cut rules in place.’
She arched a brow, her smile a quirk of her lips. ‘I remember.’ She cleared her throat, reaching for another dress. He pushed up off the door jamb, coming into the room, hands in pockets.
‘When we agreed to sleep together, it was the same thing—we made an arrangement, we drew out the terms of what we were doing, to make sure we were on the same page.’
She nodded once, placing the dress in her suitcase, her fingers shaking a little.
‘One of the terms was that our marriage would end after a month.’
She reached for a blouse. ‘I’m familiar with what we agreed.’ Her response was sharper than she’d intended.
His eyes narrowed. ‘And what if we were to renegotiate the terms of our marriage?’
Her heart leaped without her consent. ‘Which terms, in particular?’
‘The term in which you leave.’
The world stopped spinning. She stared at Luca, trying not to react, trying not to feel, but her heart was exploding with something terrifyingly like joy.
‘Hear me out.’ He lifted a hand placatingly, perhaps misreading her expression. ‘This marriage is obviously different—better—than either of us thought it would be. Why walk away from it after only a month?’
Her breath burned in her lungs.
‘Why stay?’ she asked instead, because she knew the answer she would give, but what was Luca’s? Everything hung on his response. She stood there, waiting, and hating, because in that moment she became a child again, waiting for approval, waiting for more than it was possible to be given—by the man in front of her, at least. But Luca wasn’t her father. What if she was wrong? What if?
‘Because this works,’ he said quickly, with no idea of how those words fell like the executioner’s blade. ‘We’re good together, and a marriage like this—a marriage that’s logical and sensible—suits us both.’
She bit down on her lower lip, rather than contradicting him.
‘You saw your parents’ disastrous marriage and swore it would never be for you. But what I’m offering is so different. I’m not suggesting we stay married because we’re in love, nor because we’re emotionally involved. I’m suggesting it because we’re neither of those things. I like being around you, I like spending time together, I love sleeping with you. We make a good team. Isn’t that worth staying for? Worth fighting for?’
Her heart was racing far too fast. A thousand things flashed into her mind, but she wasn’t sure if she was brave enough to say them. He talked about fighting for their marriage, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t fight for what she’d never get—her mother had spent a lifetime doing that, fighting for the love of her husband, and it was withheld, cruelly, callously. Luca wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt Olivia, but the effect would be the same regardless, because he’d never love her.
She stood straighter as the thought struck her like a lightning bolt, acceptance right behind. Of course, she loved him. The thought sank her like a lead balloon. She loved him. She loved her husband. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she looked at him, shock reverberating through her.
‘I know your experience with marriage was traumatic. The way your parents were with each other, the way your father treated your mother.’ He moved closer to her and she flinched, because her heart was too raw for him to touch her. ‘The love they shared turned to hate.’ He lifted a hand to her cheek and her eyes swept shut, the contact sending shock waves through her body. ‘That would never happen with us. A marriage that’s built on respect and friendship, a partnership rather than a romance, protects us both.’
‘But can’t you hear how cold it is?’
His eyes flared. ‘There is nothing cold between us.’
She bit down on her lip. ‘I don’t mean sex. I mean—emotionally. I don’t want what you’re describing.’