An Inheritance of Shame(40)

‘Me?’ Lucia stared at the gorgeous bouquet—lilies and roses, orchids and carnations. It was the most extravagant, over-the-top bouquet she’d ever seen, and just the sight of it made a silly grin spread over her face. She’d never received so much as a wilted daisy before.

Emilia folded her arms, her eyes sparking maliciously. ‘Payment for services rendered, maybe?’

Maria hissed under her breath. ‘Stai zitto, you foolish girl,’ she snapped.

For once Emilia’s words rolled right off her. Lucia reached for the crisp white card tucked among the blooms and read the message scrawled on it in a bold hand.

I want that chance. Have dinner with me tonight at eight?

Her smile widened even as her heart started beating hard. Chances were wonderful, dangerous things. This could be a chance for Angelo to love her—or break her heart all over again. Shatter it, even, into a million tiny pieces, impossible to put together again, because she’d never given him this kind of chance before. She’d never actually tried.

During her midmorning break Lucia took the service lift to the floor of corporate offices. She felt a blush spread across her face as Angelo’s personal assistant glanced up at her in cool assessment.

‘Is Mr Corretti available?’ she asked, to which the secretary merely pursed her lips. ‘He might be expecting me,’ she added quietly.

‘He’s in a meeting.’

‘Then will you please leave him a message?’ Lucia felt the tingly warmth that Angelo’s short note had given her spread throughout her body. ‘Tell him Lucia said yes.’

The assistant arched her eyebrows, curiosity clearing getting the better of her. ‘That’s all?’

‘That’s all.’

She could barely concentrate on her work for the rest of the day; her mind moved dizzily from anticipation to worry to hope, and then back again. She had nothing to wear. What if Angelo took her somewhere fancy? What would they talk about? A date with Angelo. An actual date—something they’d never gone on before. What if it went all wrong?

By the time she arrived back at her apartment that evening, she was both exhausted and hyped up with adrenalin. She showered and stood in front of her closet with its paltry few dresses, wishing she had something pretty and feminine to wear. She almost wished she hadn’t left the gorgeous clothes Angelo had bought her back in his villa.

Sighing, she reached for a sundress in a pretty, pale blue. It was simple and cheap, and it was all she had. It would have to do. This wasn’t about impressing Angelo, she reminded herself as she slipped it on. It wasn’t about pretending to be something or someone she wasn’t. She wanted him to know and accept who she really was, cheap clothes and all. That was the only kind of chance she was interested in.

She’d just finished her makeup—no more than lip-gloss and a little mascara—when she heard a knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, she hurried to open it, and then found she had no words when she caught sight of Angelo standing there, dressed in a white dress shirt open at the throat and a pair of charcoal grey trousers. He looked effortlessly elegant and deliberately casual, his eyes blazing grey-green in his tanned face.

He smiled as he saw her, and reached for her hand, giving her a little twirl so her dress flared out around her legs. ‘You look lovely.’

‘It’s not much—’

‘Just say thank you.’

She laughed softly. ‘Thank you.’ They stared at each other for a moment, and Lucia tucked her hair—she’d worn it loose—behind her ears. ‘I’m nervous,’ she confessed, and Angelo dipped his head.

‘So am I.’

She gazed at him uncertainly. ‘You don’t seem nervous.’

‘You might be surprised at this,’ he answered, a smile in his eyes, ‘but I’m rather adept at hiding my emotions.’ She laughed again, felt the fizzing tension inside her begin to ease. Angelo tugged on her hand. ‘Let’s go.’

He led her downstairs to his Porsche parked by the kerb. She slid into the luxurious leather interior, felt that anticipation rise again. ‘Where are we going?’

‘A little place inland.’ He glanced at her with a smile. ‘Nothing too fancy.’

She smiled back, reassured yet still nervous. Everything about this felt strange, new and exciting, yes, but scary. So scary.

They didn’t talk much on the way to the restaurant, the silence between them expectant yet thankfully not too strained. All around them the sky was settling into twilight, and the last blush of sunset lighted the rugged horizon as Angelo pulled into the dirt lot of a small and unassuming building in a tiny hillside village about twenty kilometres from Palermo.