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“I’m not starving myself. Okay?” And if he could eat, great, but how was she supposed to get food down when it felt as if her heart was always in her mouth?
They’d reached the villa’s veranda and Cristiano stopped walking. He looked up at the house where the late-afternoon sun reflected red-gold off the second story windowpanes. “I wanted to talk to you about Gabby’s summer plans.” He paused before continuing. “Gabby’s school holidays are coming up and I’d like her to go to the United States Grand Prix with me in June.”
United States in June? Gabby go halfway around the world without her? Sam balled her hands. “For how long?”
“Two to three weeks.”
Eternity. Sam exhaled slowly. “That’s an awfully long trip.”
“It’d be a great opportunity for her to see more of the world, and you know Gabby, she’d love it. She’s so curious, just a great little traveler.”
“You’ll be competing?”
“Yes.”
She frowned. “So how will you…”
“Marcelle will be there.”
“Marcelle’s going to the United States with you?”
“Sam, Gabby’s only five. She needs someone to look after—” He broke off and then shook his head. “I’m sorry. But of course you know that. You’ve spent more time with her than anyone. You used to be her nanny.”
Used to be her nanny. Well, that was putting her in her place. No wives or mothers, no best friends or lovers. Just the nanny. Back to the hired help.
Sam would have laughed if it weren’t so bloody painful. Because of course he was right. She was the nanny and she’d served her purpose.
But that didn’t mean Sam didn’t wish she could be Marcelle because Sam wanted to be going to America in June. She wanted to go to the United States Grand Prix. She wanted to be at the track and watch Cristiano race.
“Tell Gabby goodbye for me,” he said pulling out his car keys. “She’d wanted me to stay for dinner but it’s not a very good idea.”
“You’re welcome to stay—”
“No. It’ll just get her hopes up, make her want something that’s not going to happen.”
“What’s not going to happen?”
“This.” He gestured at the villa, at her, at the twilight. “What was. What we were.”
So it was done, all over, there’d be no going back, and no second chances.
Silently they walked around the side of the house to the driveway where his Italia Motors sports car waited. He opened the driver’s side door but didn’t climb in. Instead he folded his arms across his chest and stared down at her, hazel eyes dark, unreadable. “I hope someday you’ll find whatever it is you’re looking for.”
Her eyes burned and she blinked. “You might not believe it, but I was looking for you.”
“You were looking for a safe, sanitized version of me, but not me, because if it were me, we’d still be together.”
Sam stared up at him, seeing the face she loved and the man she admired and despite his new stiffness she could still feel the man somewhere in there. “Why can’t you see that you’re so valuable, a woman wouldn’t want to lose you? Why can’t you see that it’s not selfishness, but love?”
“Then it’s a very controlling love, and I don’t want to be controlled. I want to be accepted. Big difference.” He slid behind the steering wheel, closed the door. “And you’re not the only one afraid, Sam. Love is scary—and risky—for everyone.
“Bella, you have to live while you’re alive.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE phone rang and Sam leaned across her bed to answer it. Probably yet another call for Gabby from one of her friends. With her famous father winning two of his last three big races, Gabriela Grace Bartolo had become the most popular little girl in the Côte d’Azur.
“Hello?” Sam answered, punching the mute button on the TV remote control.
“Sam.”
Cristiano. They hadn’t spoken in weeks, not since that day he’d dropped Gabby off before the San Marino Grand Prix. She swallowed, her hand gripping the phone tightly. “Hi.”
