‘Were you on the bike too?’ The thought appalled her.
Ettore shook his head. ‘We were on different bikes. I came off as well, but I wasn’t as badly hurt. We were both taken to hospital but only one of us woke up.’
Her relief was instant and profound and absolute. And then she felt guilty for being so relieved that Ettore was the one to wake up.
‘I’m so sorry, Ettore.’
‘I am too. You would have liked him. Everyone liked Edo. He was funny and charming and a bit of a rogue.’
‘How were you hurt?’
He lifted up his shirt and she saw that his stomach was dappled with patches of paler skin. Scar tissue. ‘I was lucky. I got dragged along by the bike so there was a lot of superficial grazing.’ He turned, and she saw similar patches on his back. ‘I had minor concussion, and I broke my arm, but other than that I was fine. But then I was wearing a helmet.’
She reached out to touch the scar on his stomach and this time he didn’t jerk away. ‘When did it happen?’
‘The September after we split up.’
Just a month after they had split up, to be precise. She felt suddenly queasy. She had hated him then as you hated someone you loved still. Now that love had faded to indifference and yet, of course it hurt to picture him lying injured in a hospital or standing, pale and dark suited with his arm in a sling, at his brother’s funeral.
He looked pale now, and there was a tension in his shoulders that looked painful and, without thinking, she stepped forward and slid her arms around his back.
‘I’m so sorry, Ettore. For you and your family.’
She felt him hesitate and then his arms tightened around her.
‘It was a terrible shock for everyone. My mother had a stroke after the funeral; she died three weeks later and that’s when my sister decided to go travelling. I think it was all too much for her. When she left, my dad just stayed in his room.’
So he had been alone with his grief.
‘It must have been so awful for you.’
‘It was hard. The estate still needed to be managed. We employ sixty people. I couldn’t just take a step back.’
‘And you didn’t. You kept it all going.’
Loosening his arms, he stepped back and stared down at her, his eyes lingering on her mouth before rising to meet hers. She could feel the heat of his skin, see the faint trace of stubble along his jawline.
‘Just about. But I think that’s probably enough about my family for one day. I know you want to decompress so I’ll leave you in peace. Don’t stay out too late, I think it’s going to rain.’
But he didn’t move. Instead he just stood there, his eyes locked on hers, his dark lashes shielding his thoughts. But she could read them anyway. Could feel them pulling her in as his eyes slid back to her mouth.
‘You don’t have to go…’
Her heart thudded against her ribs as she spoke and she felt his pulse still.
Everything stilled. There was a tension in the air like an intake of breath.
The sun had long since set, but there was enough light from the crescent moon to see his face and she could see the hunger in the taut skin over his cheekbones.
Her breasts tingled.
‘You don’t have to go,’ she said again, and now her voice was scratchy.
There was a beat of silence, then another as she struggled to put together a coherent sentence, one that would express what she was feeling.
What she wanted.
What he wanted?
