She ran her finger around the base of her glass this time, her eyes falling away from his. ‘I’m not sure how to tell you this, Luca. I never thought I would be in this situation.’ Her heart felt as if it was weighted. It ached with a bittersweet pain that made her want to break down and cry for how unfair life was. She had longed for him to give her some clue of his feelings in the past and yet, now he had, she was about to destroy them, she was sure.
She looked up and met his gaze across the table. ‘When you left me in London I was devastated. I know you never promised me anything. I know I was much more in love with you than you were ever going to be with me. You never said what you felt. I know a lot of men are like that. Most of my friends experienced the same frustration of never knowing what the man they were dating felt about them. To be frank, sometimes I thought you didn’t even like me, that you were just there for the sex. You seemed to give me so many mixed signals. We were all set for a date and then you would suddenly cancel half an hour before. And then you were grumpy and difficult one day and yet charming and attentive the next. I never knew where I stood with you, but I tried to be patient because I loved you so much.’
Luca reached for her hand again, lacing his fingers with hers. ‘Back then, I wasn’t in the position to offer you the sort of commitment you wanted, Bronte. I know that’s not much of an explanation but I’d rather not go into the reasons why I acted the way I did. It’s not relevant to here and now. All that matters is we are together again and both committed to working at what we had before. We’ve been given a second chance. Let’s not blow it. Let’s work on getting to know who we each are now, not who we were back then.’
Bronte looked down at their joined hands and let a few more seconds thrum pass. It was like waiting for a bomb to go off, watching the timer countdown second by agonising second and being able to do nothing to stop it. She knew once she said the words nothing would ever be the same. She slowly raised her eyes to his, her aching throat going up and down over a convulsive swallow.
‘Bronte!’ A female voice spoke from behind her in the restaurant.
Bronte pulled her hand out of Luca’s and turned in her seat as one of the young mothers from the studio approached the table, her husband in tow. It took Bronte a moment to gather herself and she worried that her smile might not have seemed wholly genuine. ‘Hi, Judy… hi, Dan.’
Judy waggled her brows expressively as she glanced at Luca before returning her gaze to Bronte’s. ‘So… who’s your date?’
‘Um… sorry,’ Bronte said. ‘Judy, Dan, this is Luca Sabbatini. Luca, Judy and Dan’s daughter Matilda does ballet at the studio.’
Luca rose and politely shook the couple’s hands. ‘I’m delighted to meet you both,’ he said, smiling that killer smile.
Bronte saw the way Judy’s knees practically buckled. ‘Lovely to meet you, Luca,’ Judy said. ‘Wow, Bronte’s been keeping you a big secret. How long have you known her?’
‘We met a couple of years ago in London,’ Luca said.
‘You’re here for work, aren’t you?’ Judy’s husband Dan asked. ‘I’m an architect. The firm I work for are bidding for the contract for your hotel development.’
‘Give me your business card,’ Luca said, reaching into his jacket pocket for one of his own and handing it to Dan. ‘I would be happy to look over your proposal with you. I have a temporary office in the city. My secretary will tee up a time for you to come in and have a chat.’
‘That’s very good of you, Luca,’ Dan said, beaming.
‘Does your daughter enjoy her ballet dancing?’ Luca asked after a tiny silence.
‘Oh, yes,’ Judy gushed. ‘She’s mad about it, has been since she was Ruby’s age. That’s our other daughter, the baby. Well, not so much a baby now but we always call her that. They seem to grow up so fast. She’s the same age as Ella. That’s how Bronte and I met. It was in hospital having our babies, wasn’t it, Bronte?’
Bronte nodded, barely able to get her voice to work. ‘Um… yes.’
Judy prattled on, ‘Ella and Ruby have the same birthday. They were born at exactly the same hour. Isn’t that the most amazing coincidence?’
There was a split second as Bronte watched helplessly as the pin was finally pulled out of the grenade.
Judy said, ‘They were both born on the fourth of July last year, Independence Day. And at fourteen months old they are both headstrong and independent, aren’t they, Bronte?’
CHAPTER SIX
‘Y-YES,’ Bronte said lamely. ‘They are…’
Judy smiled up at her husband. ‘I guess we should get going to our table. It’s our anniversary.’ She turned back to Bronte and Luca, who hadn’t said a word, nor moved a muscle. ‘Lovely to meet you, Luca. I hope we’ll be seeing more of you.’
‘I am very sure you will,’ Luca said, shaking both of their hands once more.
‘And thanks for that offer,’ Dan chipped in. ‘That’s amazingly generous of you.’
‘Not at all.’ Luca brushed Dan’s thanks aside.
The couple moved on and Luca remained standing.
Bronte was looking down at her place setting, her slim shoulders rolled forward, with her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip.
‘We’re leaving,’ he clipped out, throwing some money down on the table to cover their ordered meal.
She looked up at him with a pinched look. ‘But… but people will wonder what’s—’
Luca snatched at her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘I don’t give a flying you-know-what for what people think,’ he bit out savagely. ‘I am not going to discuss this in a public restaurant.’
Bronte stumbled out of the restaurant with him, desperately hoping Judy and Dan wouldn’t notice from their seats towards the back of the room. The tension in Luca’s hand as he held hers was almost brutal. His fingers were like savage teeth biting into hers as he pulled her along beside him, his mouth set in a hard flat line. His dark eyes were dangerously brooding, his frown equally so. Once they were outside, every step he took pounded the pavement with his fury. The storm that had been brewing earlier was now in full force, as if it had sided with Luca. The flashing lightning and booming thunder mimicked the expression on his face, the electrifying hatred in his gaze zapping her like lightning each time he looked at her.
Bronte ran her tongue over her dry lips. ‘Luca… I was trying to tell you when Dan and Judy arrived.’
His hand tightened like a vice as he swung her to face him. ‘You were trying to tell me what?’ he asked. ‘That you deliberately lied to me from the moment you saw me yesterday? You told me the child was one year old. I did the calculations and you knew I would, didn’t you? That’s why you cut a couple of months off so I wouldn’t suspect she was mine.’
Bronte hung her head. ‘I’m sorry…’
He wrenched her back along the pavement. ‘It’s a bit late for an apology, damn it. You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. I am so angry at this moment you should be thanking God we are in a public place. But you just wait until we get back to my hotel. You had better have your excuses handy.’
Each of his words was like a blow to Bronte’s chest. She had known he wouldn’t take the news well, but to have heard it the way he did had made it so much worse. He was shocked and angry and rightly so. He had missed out on the most precious first months of his child’s life. Even though he had refused to see her after he ended their relationship, Bronte knew she’d had a responsibility to tell him, even if it had to have been in a letter addressed to his villa or house in London. He would have got it eventually. But her hurt at his rejection had made her act in a passive aggressive way. She could see it now.