An Inheritance of Shame(27)

And for a second, no more, she let herself imagine that this was real. Lasting. This was their home, their life, a normal morning in a loving relationship. She even, treacherously, allowed herself to imagine their daughter slept upstairs, six years old, with Angelo’s eyes and her dimple.

A longing so intense it felt as if she were being suffocated took hold of her, stole her breath. Shakily Lucia drew another, forced the images back.

This was what was real: work in half an hour and whatever little she and Angelo had shared over. Throwing her shoulders back, she came into the kitchen.

Angelo raised his head as soon as he heard her; Lucia saw the welcoming light wink out of his eyes as he stared at her, his mouth compressing into a hard line.

‘Why are you wearing that wretched uniform?’

She stiffened at the disdain in his voice. ‘Because I’m due at work in less than an hour.’

‘Work?’ He sounded utterly incredulous. ‘I called already. You’re not expected.’

‘You…called?’ Lucia stared at him blankly. Why would he call? Why would he not want her to go to work?

‘Yes, I called. Of course you’re not going to work today.’

‘I’m not?’ She prickled, fought against the treacherous surge of hope his words caused to rise up within her. ‘Why not?’

His mouth quirked in a smile. ‘I think the better question is, why would you?’

‘Because it’s my job and I don’t want to get fired?’

His smile widened. ‘Since I now own the hotel I don’t think you’ll get fired.’

‘Don’t, Angelo.’ Even though she knew he was speaking the truth his words made her cringe. Sleeping with the boss. It sounded so sordid, as sordid as the last time he’d breezed in and out of her life, and left rumours and heartache in his wake.

‘Don’t what?’ He frowned, seeming genuinely confused, and Lucia just shook her head and took a deep breath.

‘I think,’ she said, ‘it would be better—cleaner—if we ended this now.’

Angelo stared at her for a long moment. The frown had gone from his face, just like the smile. He looked utterly unreadable, completely expressionless. ‘Cleaner,’ he finally said, his tone neutral.

‘Yes.’

‘You want to end this now?’

‘I think it would be better.’

He glanced back down at the melon he’d been slicing and arranged the slices on a plate, his long fingers working deftly, his head lowered. ‘I don’t want to end this now,’ he said after a moment, and Lucia’s breath hitched, her heart lurched.

It was more than he’d ever admitted to before, and yet it was so damn little. ‘When, then?’ she made herself ask.

‘Does it matter?’ Angelo glanced up and she saw impatience flicker in his grey-green eyes. Clearly he hadn’t expected this conversation to take so long. ‘Dio, Lucia, after last night—you want to go back to your job? Your life?’

She recoiled, stung by the contempt in his tone. ‘I think you rate yourself a little too highly,’ she managed through stiff lips.

‘I’m saying this all wrong.’ He shook his head, still impatient. ‘Come have breakfast and we’ll talk.’

She glanced at the clock. ‘I don’t really have time—’

‘You don’t have time? Don’t you think this—us—warrants a little more consideration?’

She let out a hollow laugh. ‘There’s never been an us, Angelo. You made sure about that.’

‘It’s different now.’

‘Because you want it to be?’

‘Why are you angry?’ He shook his head, angry now himself. ‘I’m offering you something I’ve—’

‘Never offered before?’ she filled in, her voice hard. ‘So I should grab it with both hands and tell you how thankful I am? Sorry I’m not falling in with your plans.’

His expression shuttered, his jaw bunched. ‘At least come and eat something,’ he said tightly, and brought a tray of fresh fruit and coffee out towards the veranda.

Slowly Lucia followed him outside, wondered why she was so angry. Surely Angelo was doing everything she’d once dreamt about. Incredible sex, making breakfast, wanting to be with her? What was wrong with this picture?

Because she knew instinctively something was.

Outside the day was already hot, the sun beating down, a slight breeze off the sea the only relief. She sank into a chair and mutely accepted the cup of espresso Angelo handed her.