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“I’m making you a promise, Payton. What you face, what you’ll go through, you won’t have to do it alone—”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I know. But I want to. I’ll be there with you. We’ll do it together. No matter what happens, I’ll be at your side.”
Her eyes burned but she wasn’t going to get weepy. The situation was complicated enough without her losing control of her emotions. “The princess is very generous, but I don’t know that she’ll appreciate your promise.”
“It’s not Marilena’s choice. It’s mine.” He tugged her hand. “Don’t look so stricken. Come, let’s go outside. I think we could use some air.”
She followed him across the crowded dance floor to the nearest door. He pushed the door open and they stepped outside into the considerably cooler night air. Overhead stars twinkled in a nearly black sky and Payton smelled the salt of the ocean.
“We need to talk about Marilena,” he said abruptly. “I’ve wanted to talk to you about her, about us, for a while.” He grimaced. “It seems as if there’s an awful lot I’ve been wanting to discuss with you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to adjust to the cooler temperature. “Maybe it’s because we’ve never really talked. That night at the Trussardis’s we seemed to have leap-frogged over a lot of steps.” She swallowed. “Like conversation.”
He shot her a swift glance, his expression a little mocking. “Conversation didn’t have the appeal of other activities.”
“Yes, and look at the problems appealing activities created.” She didn’t know where to laugh or cry. Their whole relationship had been such a disaster.
A waitress stepped outside to see if they needed anything and Marco ordered two bottles of mineral water. As the waitress disappeared Marco smiled. “I didn’t think we needed another blue drink.”
“Especially not if it has suggestive connotations.”
“Does it?” he asked, feigning innocence. “I thought it was paying homage to Capri’s natural treasure.”
“Sure you did.”
He laughed quietly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and leaned against the low stone wall with the ocean view. “I’ve enjoyed myself tonight.”
She tipped her head back and looked up. The moon was nearly full and the stars were bright pricks of light against the inky blue black sky. It was a beautiful night. Marco had been great company. “Me, too.”
They were silent for a moment listening to the disco’s music pulse along with the crash of water on the rocks below. After a long moment Marco turned his head and looked at her. “If we’d talked more, do you think we could have worked things out?”
CHAPTER TEN
PAYTON didn’t know how he could make her heart ache with so few words. She turned a little, sat down on the edge of the wall. Even though she and Marco weren’t touching she was so aware of him, so aware of everything that had happened between them. “I don’t know. We probably would have still ended up separating, but it might have made the separation less painful.”
He didn’t speak for a long moment and they listened to. “I hate asking these questions, but I’m trying to understand. You make it sound like separation was inevitable with us. Why?”
She frowned as she tried to think of an appropriate answer. There were reasons, she knew there were lots of good reasons but at the moment she couldn’t think of one. “I don’t know. I just don’t see how we could have worked our differences out.”
“But why not? Fundamentally you’re not bad. Fundamentally I’m not bad. In fact, we have quite a few things in common.”
His persistence was making her feel a little crazy. What did he want her to say? What was the answer he was looking for?
She shifted against the wall, the rough stones and grout sharp against the back of her legs. “I’m really not much of a relationship expert. Dating wasn’t considered an important part of my education.”
“But surely you had boyfriends.”
“Male friends, yes, but romantic relationships? Never. You were my first.”
“Lover.”
“First everything.” She squirmed a little, feeling ridiculously gauche. “After seeing what my mom went through after my dad left, I tried to steer clear of relationships and I certainly never intended to get married.”
“But then I insisted on it.”
“You thought it’d be best for the girls.”
“It should have been. In an ideal world.”
Payton bit her lip, suppressing a sigh. His suggestion had made head sense, but their world wasn’t an ideal world. Or perhaps hers hadn’t been the ideal one. Marrying a man like Marco had simply overwhelmed her. It was like doing well in a local race and then being thrown into the Olympics. Marco was not an ordinary man, and life with Marco had been far from ordinary.
“You hated being married to me.” He shot her an apprising glance. “In one argument I think I even called you on it.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. He was referring to a fight they’d had years ago just before he’d moved out of the Milan villa leaving her and the girls alone. “Your actual words were, ‘ungrateful upstart American nobody’.”
“Ouch.” He had the grace to wince. “Not very nice of me.”
She remembered the fight clearly, as well as the next nine miserable months. Months where she cried endlessly, missing him, missing their intimacy, missing everything she’d hoped for but had been denied. She’d loved him and yet hated the marriage. “And yes, I did hate being married to you. Less than a month after we married you moved out of the villa—” she broke off, a bubble of air trapped in her throat.
But now that she had time to think about it, she realized that Marco hadn’t moved away. He hadn’t cut off contact.
She’d been the one that couldn’t handle seeing him after he left. She’d been the one filled with such pain and rage.
Had she subconsciously escalated the problems, turned a difficult situation into a full-blown war of the sexes? Worse yet, had she perhaps reenacted her parents’ falling out?
“You were saying?” he prompted.
She shook her head. She didn’t know how to share it, didn’t know if she should.
The waitress returned with their bottles of mineral water and Marco paid her. But once the waitress disappeared back into the disco, Marco resumed their discussion.
“Why did you hate being married to me? It’s what you wanted.”
“What did I get being married to you? Certainly not your company!”
“You wanted my company?”
“Oh, Marco, what do you think?” Payton raised the bottle to her lips and taking a long cool drink.
“I thought you wanted the package.”
“As in position, wealth, visibility?” She did laugh this time. “Please. I’ve never wanted a free ride, and quite frankly, I’ve never wanted anyone to provide for me. I can take care of myself.”
“Which you were doing quite nicely these past two years.”
“Until the diagnosis,” she retorted, again aware of the grim reality that one had so little control in life.
They returned in silence to the villa and yet Payton’s thoughts raced. She didn’t know what to think, or feel. Part of her felt overwhelmed by all they’d discussed, and yet another part of her felt peace, as well as relief.
Pietra left and Marco locked up the house. At the door of her bedroom they said good-night.
He turned to leave and Payton stopped him, placing a hand on his sleeve. “Marco, during one of our fights before we divorced, you said I was only interested in the d’Angelo name and our conversation tonight reminded me of it.”
“We said a lot of things back then—”
“I know.” Her hand tightened on his forearm. “But it’s important to me that you know this. I was fascinated by the d’Angelo name. I still am. But not for the reason you think. I could care less about the celebrity aspect. I’m intrigued by color, textiles, pattern. If
I found you or your father interesting it’s because I love what you do. What we do.”
He still didn’t get it, did he? Her attraction wasn’t based on his name, or even his handsome face. She was attracted to all of him. Attracted to his energy, his drive, his vision.
She loved him. It was that simple.
It was that complicated.
In his room Marco slowly stripped off his shirt, his pants, his silk boxers and showered in a spray of hot water, trying desperately to relax. His muscles felt bunched. His head throbbed with tension. Payton.
He still cared so much for her. It made him wonder what the hell he’d been thinking these past two years. Made him wonder what the hell he’d been doing.
