An Inheritance of Shame(15)

‘I…’ He stared at her, his eyes glittering, wild. His lips parted, but no sound came out. Lucia folded her arms, conscious now that she was wearing a thin T-shirt and no bra.

‘Well?’ she managed.

‘Back in my hotel suite,’ Angelo said slowly. ‘At the lift.’ His gaze roved over her, searching. ‘Why did you look at me like that?’

‘Like what?’

‘As if…as if you were sad.’ Lucia swallowed. ‘Don’t, Angelo,’ she said, her voice no more than a rasp. ‘Please, just leave it.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You can. You’re like a dog with a bone.’ She shook her head, anger warring with the agony as well as the deep-seated desire she had to hide it. ‘Just leave me alone.’

‘You think I don’t want to?’ Angelo asked quietly, and she let out a sudden, wild laugh, the unfettered sound surprising them both.

‘Oh, I know you want to. You’ve always wanted to. Everything you’ve taken from me has been against your better judgement, even your will. You think I don’t know that?’

Angelo was silent for a long moment. ‘Why do you offer it, then?’ he finally asked. ‘All the kindnesses when we were children—and before…that night—’

That night. She did not want to remember the hope, the joy, that had coursed through her when Angelo had kissed her. When she thought he’d felt just as she did, had built a castle in the air of her dreams, as insubstantial as the mist on the sea, gone by morning, as she’d surely known he would be.

‘Because we were friends, Angelo,’ she forced out. ‘Because, when we were children, I saw the sadness in your eyes and I wanted to wipe it away. I wanted to help you—’ I wanted to love you. She swallowed down the words.

‘I’ve never wanted help.’

‘I know that. How could I not know that, when you constantly pushed me away? And yet I kept trying.’ She shook her head, forced herself to laugh, as if it was all in the distant, unimportant past. ‘I was foolish, as a kid.’ And as a woman.

‘And that night?’ Angelo asked in a low voice. ‘Why did you sleep with me?’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ She turned around with a shrug, every atom of her being focused on appearing hard, strong. ‘I wanted you. I’ve always been attracted to you.’

‘And that was it? A one-night stand, pleasurable for both of us?’

She jerked her head in the semblance of a nod. She couldn’t manage anything more.

Angelo shook his head. ‘There’s more.’ He took a step towards her, his mouth a hard line, his gaze seeming to bore right into her. ‘If that’s the truth, Lucia, you wouldn’t have looked like you did back there, by the lift. You wouldn’t have looked like I’d broken your heart—’

‘You did break my heart.’ The words exploded from her like a gunshot, a crack in the taut silence of the room. She saw shock flash in Angelo’s eyes and she turned away quickly.

‘Then—’

‘It’s not what you think.’ She drew in a ragged breath. Now was the time for truth, or at least part of it. She still couldn’t tell him how much she’d loved him, admit all that weakness, but she could tell him about the consequences of their one night. Perhaps he’d already guessed it; perhaps that was why he kept at her, asking questions, demanding answers. He knew she was hiding something.

‘What do I think, Lucia?’ Angelo asked quietly.

She shook her head, her back still to him. ‘It doesn’t matter what you think.’

‘No?’

‘You don’t know, Angelo.’ She dragged in a breath, the very air hard to breathe, heavy inside her. ‘You don’t understand—’

‘Then tell me.’ He came to stand behind her, one hand hard on her shoulder. ‘Tell me what I don’t know.’

Lucia closed her eyes, tried to find the words. She hadn’t been able to find them in all the letters she’d written and never sent, and she searched uselessly for them now. She licked her lips. ‘That night…’

‘Yes?’ Angelo prompted, impatient now, his fingers digging into her shoulder.

‘There were…consequences.…’

‘Consequences?’ Angelo’s voice sharpened and she couldn’t answer. ‘Look at me, damn it.’ With his hand on her shoulder he turned her around, forced her to face him. ‘What have you been keeping from me?’ he demanded, and she saw the anger in his eyes, but worse, far worse, she saw the fear. She felt it.