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‘It was destroyed. Carly was so panicked by how out of control her brother had been, she handed it over in return for a reduced sentence.’
Izzy hesitated. ‘I’m glad you told me. I wish you’d told me sooner.’
‘The surprise is that I’ve told you now.’ His expression was guarded and she realised that he was absorbing the enormity of what he’d done.
‘No big deal,’ she said quickly. ‘I never gossip.’ But the fact that he had told her warmed her. Made her feel special. ‘So you lay in hospital for weeks.’
‘Bored out of my mind. Bitter. Angry. I stayed that way until a very long-suffering nurse became fed up with my complaining, wrestled me into a wheelchair and took me up to the children’s ward. They were rushed off their feet and they needed someone to read to a little girl who had no visitors.’ His voice softened. ‘That’s how it started.’
‘How what started?’
‘The Prince’s Fund. That nurse was clever and she did me a bigger favour than Carly because she made sure I saw how lucky I was. I deserved a slap, but what she gave me was insight. In those weeks after the accident I saw a world I hadn’t seen before. I saw children who smiled even though they were sick. I saw parents in desperate financial straits make every sacrifice to get the best possible care for their children. I saw life in the raw. It wasn’t Carly who changed my life, it was the time I spent in hospital. Before that, I hadn’t really known what to do with myself. I was the second son. The spare to the heir. The understudy. And then I realised that I could use that influence for good. By the time I was discharged I knew what my role was going to be.’
There was a lump in her throat. ‘And you’ve been doing it ever since.’
‘I discovered that my name and my presence at events attracted big money and I took that money and ploughed it back into my charity.’
She rubbed her toe on the floor. ‘For what it’s worth, I know how it feels to discover someone was just using you, so I sympathise.’
‘Is this the point where we talk about Brian?’
‘Please, let’s not.’
‘I’m surprised you didn’t punch him for leaving you at the altar.’
‘I didn’t want him to think I cared enough to punch him. I danced until four in the morning and ended up kissing a total stranger in the hope that it would get into the papers and show him I didn’t care. Of course that was the only picture the press never took—’ she shrugged ‘—so I kissed some vile slobbery guy for no reason. What happened after Carly? I know you started the charity, but what about your own relationships?’
‘I’m not good at relationships.’
‘I read that about you. Mr Heartbreaker. And then you discovered that your brother was marrying a Jackson and you thought, Here we go again. These people are the worst kind of trouble.’ Seeing the wary look in his eyes, Izzy managed a smile. ‘It’s OK. I’d rather you were honest and it’s a natural reaction. We all judge from the outside to some extent. I thought you were an arrogant prince who was full of himself.’
‘The me you don’t see.’
‘Exactly.’
He didn’t smile. ‘It is very much on my conscience that I was so vile to you. You should have been crushed by what I said and it’s a reflection of your strength and determination that you brushed yourself off and carried on trying. I have never met anyone more tenacious than you.’
‘Tenacious, as in pushy?’
‘Tenacious as in focused.’ His hand curved behind her head and he drew her towards him. ‘It was your focus that kept us from doing something foolish last night, not my self-control. I’m grateful for that.’
Izzy’s heart was pounding. ‘I like the fact you lost control. It was sort of a compliment.’
Part of her was desperately hoping he’d continue where they’d left off but she sensed his withdrawal and she could have screamed at the irony because she understood that the very confession which should have deepened the intimacy between them had caused him to back off.
He’d taken a step he hadn’t taken before and he wasn’t comfortable with it.
There was a tense silence and then his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘I need to take a shower. Meet me at the recording studio in twenty minutes and bring all those notebooks. Everything you’ve ever written. And start warming up your voice.’
‘Why?’
‘We’re going to do something about those goals of yours. It’s time to record your songs.’
In a state of conflict and not enjoying the sensation one little bit, Matteo watched Izzy in the vocal booth. He was all too aware that his inexplicable loss of control the night before had been compounded by an even greater lapse when he’d revealed information that was both confidential and deeply personal. Even had he been able to explain away the first as the natural response of a male with a healthy sex drive, nothing explained the second. Since when had he felt the need to serve up the truth about his past for public consumption? The moment he’d launched into his confession he’d wanted to withdraw the words but it had been too late for that and the realisation that he’d spilled his darkest secret to someone he barely knew filled him with cold panic.
Sharing secrets was the first step to intimacy and he avoided emotional intimacy at all costs. He was a master at keeping women at a distance. He prided himself on the wall of protection he’d constructed around himself. And yet somehow Izzy, through a lethal mixture of natural charm and sheer perseverance, had managed to find a weakness. And that perseverance shouldn’t have surprised him because it was her trademark. He could see it now as she sang. If something wasn’t right, she did it again. And again, until she was satisfied it was the best it could be.
He’d never known anyone work so hard.
