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His life must have been so cold and empty when he was a child, but Chloe realised she knew very little about his childhood years. He had told her so much about the wonderful city he had grown up in that she’d never noticed he talked very little about himself.
Her heart ached when she thought about it. She couldn’t bear to think of him as a little boy, wandering around this palazzo—this huge, architectural monument to his family’s great history—feeling lost and alone. And unloved.
‘If you want out of this marriage, I’ll understand.’ Lorenzo’s deep voice right behind her made her catch her breath.
‘What? No…’
She spun round to face him, and was startled to see a terrible haunted look in his eyes. But then she replayed what he had just said—if she wanted out of this marriage…
‘You made your feelings about me crystal-clear,’ Lorenzo said. ‘I understand if you don’t want me to be the father of your children.’
‘No, I…’ Chloe’s voice petered out as she remembered what she’d called him. ‘I don’t think you are a monster,’ she said. ‘I didn’t really mean that—I’ve seen your good intentions towards Emma. And I know you’d only want what’s best for your own children.’
‘That’s why I married you,’ Lorenzo said. ‘I thought you were best for them. I know you love Emma as if she were your own, and that you’d love all your children just as fiercely.’
He turned away for a moment, raking his hands through his short black hair in a gesture that revealed how difficult he was finding it to talk to her. Then he turned back and looked into her eyes with his troubled gaze.
‘But I know that’s not enough,’ he said. ‘Children deserve a father who is able to love them.’
Chloe looked at him, filled with a mixture of shock and despair.
She loved Lorenzo and had committed herself to making their marriage work, despite his lack of confidence in love. But now, out of the blue, he had decided not to bother.
‘Are you telling me you’re not man enough to stick with this?’ She did not hide the disgust from her voice. ‘You’re the one who pushed me into this, who told me it was for the best. And now, just like that, you’re prepared to give up?’
‘I’m not giving up,’ Lorenzo grated, clearly angered by her words. ‘I’ve made a considered decision. This marriage was never what you wanted—not once you knew my true feelings. Why would you fight for it now?’
‘Because I don’t give up that easily!’ Chloe cried. ‘I don’t turn my back on something the moment the going gets tough.’
She pushed past him into the bedroom, intending to take Emma and go for a walk to cool off. But then she remembered what she had been thinking about when Lorenzo first came in. That his troubled, unloved childhood had made him lose faith in people. Had made him relinquish hope for love. Maybe that was driving his decision to give up on their marriage.
She turned back to him again, the anger that had been pulsing round her body suddenly going quiet. He had been badly hurt. Maybe he was scared that he would hurt his own children.
‘I don’t give up that easily,’ Chloe repeated, but this time more gently. ‘I know your mother’s desertion hurt you and that you grew up feeling unloved. But history doesn’t have to repeat itself. You have to give yourself a chance.’
She stared up into his blue eyes, which were as overcast and grey-tinged as the sky above them. She wanted to find a way to reach out to him—to help him deal with the fallout of his troubled childhood.
She took a tentative step closer and lifted her hand to touch his cheek.
His reaction was instant. It was as if steel shutters dropped down over the tiny window into his soul that she’d momentarily glimpsed, and he brushed her hand aside abruptly. His rejection of her attempt to make a connection with him was total.
‘Don’t touch me!’ he bit out. ‘I don’t want your sympathy. And I don’t want to hear your amateur psychoanalysis of my life. Pack your bags—we’re leaving for England tonight.’
He stormed out of the bedroom, leaving Chloe staring after him in a state of shock.
Had he just told her that he was divorcing her? That he was taking her back to England because their marriage was over?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE flight from Venice back to southern England was not long, but it turned out to be one of the most stressful flights Chloe could remember.
Emma, who had so far been very good on aero-planes, started crying the minute they took off. By the time they were flying over the Alps, she was howling at the top of her lungs.
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Lorenzo demanded loudly, staring at her with a horrified scowl on his face. ‘Why is she doing that? She’s always been all right before.’
‘I don’t know,’ Chloe said in exasperation—she’d already tried everything she could think of to calm Emma down. There’d been an oppressive tension between Lorenzo and herself since their argument, but his agitation over Emma’s crying was making things even more strained between them. ‘I’ve never seen her like this.’
‘Maybe it’s her ears,’ Lorenzo suddenly suggested. ‘We’re very high over the mountains—perhaps her ears are sensitive to the change
