And she has to move on from my leaving her. As I did after our night together in New York—a night that could never have led to anything more.
But he must not think about that night or remember it. Let alone the night that had followed.
I was supposed to break her power over me—show myself that I was not in thrall to her allure, could resist the temptation she offers. That I could defy it—deny it.
Instead...
Yet again, he steered his mind away. It was too dangerous to remember. Too dangerous to do anything but pay attention to what she was telling him now, about the possibilities presented by the villa he had bought for the bride he no longer had.
Would Mia really not have liked it? Been afraid of being so close to the lake? Surely she would have told me if that were so—why should she not have?
He shook the question away, not wanting to think about it...about a future that was gone for ever now. Facing, instead, the future that did await him.
‘If you want just a light touch,’ this woman he was going to have to marry instead of her cousin was saying now, ‘you can leave the layout as it is, but if you want something more radical then the bedrooms can be enlarged by knocking through, and the kitchen could become a kitchen diner.’
He shook his head. ‘My preference is to leave well alone as much as possible.’
Ariana nodded. ‘I’m glad...’ She made a start on her food—grilled fish with polenta—while Luca cut into his lamb fillet. ‘A house so untouched—well, apart from the refurb thirty years ago—is rare. The kitchen will need substantial updating, as will the bathrooms, but other than the external repairs the rest of the work is nearly all cosmetic.’
‘How long do you estimate it will take?’
‘Given the time of year, the exterior work needs to start as soon as you give the go-ahead.’
‘Do so.’ He nodded.
‘I’ve a rough idea of costs, but obviously I will get written quotes for you to approve.’
He shook his head. ‘Not necessary. The cost is immaterial.’
Ariana looked across at him. ‘You’ll get written quotes,’ she said. ‘Down to the last tin of paint.’
Her gaze moved away for a moment, and he could see her thin shoulders tense.
‘I’d feel safer that way...with you signing off on all the work.’
He looked at her without comprehension.
‘It will protect me from you,’ she said.
‘Protect?’
‘I can’t cope with any more anger from you,’ she said. Her voice was low and strained.
He was silent. Her words echoing in his head. Then... ‘I don’t want to be angry with you,’ he said slowly.
She made no answer, only went on with her dinner.
He shook the moment from him. Yet her words lingered.
But I have cause to be angry with her. So much cause.
For ruining his hopes of marriage to Mia.
For even more than that.
For desiring her when I do not want to desire her.
His eyes went to her. She was still making absolutely no attempt to accentuate her looks. She wore no make-up, her hair was tied back, her clothes were just a sweater and a pair of casual trousers. Yet still she turned heads. There was a sensuality to her, an allure she could not conceal. He’d seen it as they’d walked into the restaurant...male eyes going to her. It was effortless for her. She seemed totally unaware of it.