‘He hurt you.’
Cesare looked up and read Ida’s sympathy. He shook his head. ‘I had a wonderful grandfather who loved me. I didn’t need my father.’
Ida stepped close, her tantalising scent, like the promise of spring, filtering into his senses. ‘Every child deserves the love of its mother and father.’
It hit him then that, while Ida had been orphaned early and struggled since under Calogero’s brutality, at least she’d known what it was to have two loving parents. It was there in her quiet confidence, and the concern in those bright eyes.
‘He wasn’t a brute. He didn’t abuse me. He just wasn’t interested. He was focused on the woman who was the great love of his life. When she betrayed him or proved herself interested only in money, he’d move on to the next and the next. He had appalling judgement and no time for a child.’
‘Maybe he was grieving for your mother.’
Cesare lifted his shoulders. ‘Maybe.’
‘But that doesn’t excuse what he did to you.’
Looking into her grave face, Cesare felt warmth spread through him. Not the potent heat of desire but something steady and comfortable.
Again he shrugged. ‘I was okay. I had my grandfather.’ Cesarehadbeen all right. He’d belonged and been cared for. ‘But over time my father grew more unreliable. His work suffered and through it the business. His bad decisions weakened the company, leaving it wide open for Calogero to do his worst.’
Ida frowned.
‘What?’
‘I know how important Brunetti Enterprises is. Your grandfather drummed that into you, along with your duties and responsibilities. But it’s a business. It’s notalwaysthe most important thing. Admitting to pain isn’t weakness.’
Ida didn’t fully understand. He had a duty not just to his family but also to the thousands whose livelihoods depended on the company. Yet her words trickled through him, an unexpected truth that he couldn’t ignore.
He’d think about it later when he was alone. Because he suddenly felt vulnerable as he hadn’t been since boyhood, when he’d brimmed with pain and desolation.
Cesare straightened and took her other hand. He dropped his voice to a suggestive rumble. ‘If I’m hurt, will you make me feel better?’
Frustration pinched Ida’s face. But when he ran his thumbs slowly across her palms then up her bare arms, she shivered voluptuously.
‘You’re changing the subject.’
Cesare nuzzled her neck, inhaling sweetness. Now he wasn’t thinking of diversions but of a need that was raw and real, the more so for the way she’d dug into his emotions and tried to make them better. As ifhewere the one who needed help.
Instead of annoying him, her sincerity moved him. Not that he’d admit it.
‘I have a sudden urge to be close to you,’ he murmured. ‘For comfort.’
It wasn’t a convenient ruse or a teasing invitation. It was, he discovered, the surprising truth.
He wanted the comfort of being with Ida. He needed the intimacy of her body joining with his, her kisses drugging his senses and obliterating the shards of old pain.
He lifted his head and met her quizzical stare. ‘Please, Ida.’
What she saw in his face he had no idea. But her expression softened as she planted her palm against his cheek.
‘Let’s go upstairs,’ she whispered.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CESARELISTENEDTOhis cousin enthuse about the new designer he wanted to bring into the haute couture arm of the company. But his thoughts were metres away with Ida.
She looked stunning. Her full-length halter-neck dress of rich crimson clung, gleaming, to her body. Her hair was up in a seemingly casual twist low at the back of her head, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Even here, among the glitterati at this exclusive charity event, she stood out.
The elite of Europe was attending this prestigious charity event in the Boboli Gardens beside Florence’s Palazzo Pitti, quaffing vintage wine and showing off their finery. None held a candle to Ida.