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‘My mother’s fear.’ If it was only a hundredth of it, it was still more than he’d ever admitted to anyone, and there was this curl of trepidation in his stomach as for the first time he broke the D’Amato code of silence. ‘How, even when he can hardly walk, she still jumps when he enters a room, still laughs too loudly at his jokes…’
‘Was he violent towards her?’Emma asked.
‘A bit.’ His guard shot back up. ‘Yet he is weak and pathetic now—there is nothing more to fear.’
‘Is that why you stay away?’
Luca shrugged, a bit guilty now, embarrassed perhaps at admitting so much, and he tried to laugh it off. ‘Apparently I should have married some sweet virgin, produced several children by now—no matter whether or not it makes me happy.’
‘But you haven’t,’ Emma pointed out.
‘Because there are no more virgins—no good-looking ones anyway.’ His mouth curved into a smile at his own joke and then, appalled, he remembered. ‘Emma, I’m sorry!’ He had to run to catch up with her. ‘I forgot, okay?’
‘Just leave it.’ She shrugged him off, angry, annoyed, embarrassed and very, very close to tears. She was sick of it, sick of it, sick of it!
‘Hey.’ He caught her hand and spun her around. ‘I’m sorry if I offended you—I just never thought—’
‘No, you didn’t!’ Emma flared.
‘You’re not ugly…you’re gorgeous,’ Luca attempted, ‘and the guy who gets you will be a lucky man indeed.’ Huge green eyes looked up at him. ‘I’m just not sure that should be me…’ He stared at the oh, so, familiar beach, dragged in the familiar smells, and though he so desperately wanted her, he didn’t actually have to have her—there was sweet relief in just her company tonight and the knowing that she would be beside him tonight.
‘Even if I want it to be you?’
‘Emma…’ He didn’t finish so they walked on in silence, and it was Luca who finally broke it. ‘Come on, let’s get home. I’ll text Ma and let her know.’ Which to Emma seemed a strange thing for a thirty-four-year-old playboy to do, but she was too upset about how the night had turned out, and really never gave it another thought, especially when they stepped into a house that was in darkness.
‘They must have gone to bed,’ Luca said, and then the lights snapped on.
‘Surprise!’ She saw the usually deadpan Luca grinning at her stunned reaction, as shouts of ‘Happy birthday’ and ‘Tanti auguiri’ rang out, and slowly the realisation set in that this was all for her.
Luca could never have known how much this might mean to her, how completely overwhelming this was, because there were gifts all prettily wrapped and a table set with glasses and liqueurs and, centre stage, a cake. A huge sponge filled with cream and iced on top and in shaky handwriting the words Tanti Auguiri Emma.
Her first birthday cake, her first birthday party—well, at least, the first she could remember.
‘Sorry,’ Mia said. ‘Rico wanted to stay up but he was tired.’ Emma could see the mood in the house was actually better without him, and then Mia apologised that the cake was home-made, which made Emma’s eyes well up. ‘Luca only told me yesterday, there was no time to order one—and—’
‘Yesterday?’ Her head whipped around to him—that he had known all along, before she’d even told him, and that he had thought to ring ahead and arrange all this for her…
‘Did you really think I’d forget your birthday?’
She opened her gifts—first a stunning white lace nightdress from Mia. ‘For your trousseau,’ she hinted. There was some body lotion and perfume from Daniela, and from Luca a silver charm bracelet, with a diamond-studded ‘E’ and a pretty horoscope charm, The Virgo Lady, dangling on her bracelet, which he’d bought before he’d known she really was one!
Did everything lead there?
‘Emma wanted to start a charm bracelet collection,’ Luca said as he snapped it on her wrist and kissed her trembling mouth, and she wondered at what a convincing lover he made.
‘Then we will know what to get you at Christmas.’ Mia smiled and it was too much—the unexpected kindness, the care, the cake and the fact that there would be no family Christmas, that none of this was real…
Tiny thoughts, like flickering stars were there on the periphery of her mind, and she was almost scared to focus on them in case they flared.
Cakes and presents and the love that her mother had denied her. Yet a thousand miles from home and with people she didn’t know, it wasn’t the time to be exploring her feelings, so again she squashed them down, plastered a smile on her face and carried on with the celebration.
