An Inheritance of Shame(28)

‘So tell me what exactly it is you’re offering, Angelo,’ she said after she’d taken a sip. ‘Why should I take a day off work? What are you suggesting?’

‘I’m not suggesting you take the day off, although I suppose that would be a start.’

‘A start? To what?’

‘To—to us!’ He looked, quite suddenly, furious—although whether with her or himself she didn’t know. She did know, knew with the unshakeable certainty that she’d always possessed when it came to this man, that he still didn’t want to want her. Nothing really had changed except, perhaps, the force of Angelo’s reluctant need.

‘Us,’ she repeated. ‘What kind of us?’

‘Why are you asking all these questions?’

‘Because I want to know what you’re suggesting, Angelo. You’ve been barking out orders since I came downstairs but I still don’t know what you want. A day in bed? A relationship?’

Shamefully her voice trembled on that revealing word, and from the way he quickly averted his gaze she knew it wasn’t that. Never that. He still didn’t want a relationship, something real, with her.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just stared out at the sea, his eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun. ‘I don’t want you working like that any more,’ he finally said, and her mouth dropped open before she thought to snap it shut.

‘I don’t know which part of that sentence to address,’ she finally said, her voice thankfully tart. ‘It doesn’t matter what you want, and as for whatever like that means—’

‘On your knees, scrubbing—’

‘Since I’m no longer working for the Correttis, it should hardly matter,’ she snapped. ‘I’m on my knees for you, Angelo.’ And ridiculously she felt a blush heat her face at the suggestiveness of her words, the memory of last night.

Angelo leaned forward, his gaze snapping back to hers, his eyes like molten silver. ‘Didn’t last night mean anything to you, Lucia? Didn’t it change anything?’

She swallowed dryly, memories flashing through her mind, making her blush all the more. ‘I never got a chance to ask you those questions the last time we spent a night together,’ she replied after a moment, ‘but I think I could have guessed what the answers would have been.’

Realisation flared in his eyes and he sat back. ‘Are you saying last night was—was just a repeat of what happened before?’

‘Wasn’t it?’

He didn’t answer for a long moment, just stared at her, his gaze sweeping searchingly over her. ‘Not for me.’

Her fingers tightened on the cup of coffee and she felt the hot liquid slosh over her fingers. Shakily she put it back on the table with a clatter. ‘Just what are you saying, Angelo?’

His mouth firmed, his gaze flicking away before returning to rest on her resolutely. ‘I told you, I don’t want this to end now.’

What a telling phrase, she thought bleakly. Not now, but maybe later. Definitely later. ‘When, then?’ she asked, striving to keep her voice even.

He shrugged, the movement dismissive. ‘I don’t know.’

‘When you want it to be over?’ she surmised flatly.

‘Dio, Lucia, isn’t it enough that I want to be with you? I want to protect you, provide for you. I can give you so much—’

She felt herself go cold. ‘Such as?’

‘Clothes, jewels, a villa, a car—whatever you want!’ He smiled, relief flashing in his eyes, as if he were glad they were finally understanding each other. ‘You don’t have to work as a maid. You don’t have to work at all. You can live here—’

‘And await your pleasure?’

He recoiled, his mouth hardening into a thin line. ‘You make it sound…sordid.’

‘You’re the one doing that, Angelo.’ Her voice trembled and she fought against the absurd yearning she still felt, the temptation to accept even this little. She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. She felt near to crying, and yet too weary to shed any tears.

‘I want,’ Angelo answered, an edge to his voice now, ‘to be with you. You could stay here,’ he continued, sweeping one arm out to encompass the villa. ‘You could have a maid of your own, an entire staff, clothes and jewels. I’ll buy you a car, whatever one you like.’

‘I don’t know how to drive,’ she said flatly. ‘And I don’t like this villa. I told you that last night. It feels cold.’