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Regardless of her answer, he removed a vintage bottle of wine from a special fridge and poured two glasses.
She eyed hers uncertainly. ‘I really am sorry to have inconvenienced you.’
She hadn’t. Not really. Her being here was a nuisance because he hated people—all people—but she hadn’t personally done anything to exacerbate that.
‘Why did you come here?’
‘I told you. I wanted to talk to you about—’
‘My sister’s wedding. I don’t mean that.’ He lifted his wine glass to his lips, savouring the flavour before replacing it on the benchtop. ‘Do you fly internationally to pitch for every event you want to manage?’
‘This isn’t just any event,’ she pointed out, reaching for her own glass and taking a delicate sip, her full pink lips pressing against the glass in a way he found he couldn’t ignore, her pale throat shifting as she swallowed. His gut tightened, muscles low down in his abdomen clenching with speculation and long-repressed need.
‘I see. So my sister’s reputation is why you’re here.’
She hesitated, her eyes roaming his face for several seconds before she focused on a point over his shoulder. ‘Actually, your sister is.’
‘Do you know Evie?’
‘Not personally, no. But there was something she said in her engagement interview that made me want to handle her wedding myself.’
‘Not because she’s marrying a prince and the budget is unlimited?’ He couldn’t help prodding, sure that the enormous chunk of money he’d pay out to the successful events firm had something to do with Lucinda’s persistence.
‘I mean, obviously that’s part of it,’ she agreed. ‘To have a client for whom money is no object means the sky’s the limit with the arrangements, but actually, no. That’s not it.’
‘So why, then?’
‘Because I’m an orphan too,’ she said, so softly he almost didn’t catch the words. Her eyes were soft, her lips pursed as if she were lost in thought. ‘My mother died when I was a baby. I never knew her. My father and I were very close, but I lost him when I was just fifteen.’ She swallowed, and again, his eyes dropped to her throat, where the muscles bunched together. ‘When your sister spoke of your parents, and how she wanted to feel them with her on her wedding day, I just knew I’d be the right person for this job, because I understand what that’s like. I understand what it’s like to live each day fully aware that there’s this huge gap in your heart, that won’t ever close over.’ She lifted her slender shoulders, but Thirio was no longer looking at her. His ears were ringing with a familiar pressure, his breathing coming in short rasping spurts. Panic. He was on the brink of a panic attack. And this woman would witness it. He turned away quickly, staring at the microwave, focusing on his breathing. In, out. In, out. He closed his eyes but there were his parents, his mother’s smile, his father’s laugh. And then there were their voices, the screams his mother had made right up until smoke had filled her lungs and taken her away.
All because of him.
‘I will consider your proposal with the others.’
His voice sounded surprisingly normal. The timer dinged; he plated their meals and placed them on the counter.
‘Or...’ she dragged the word out, her tone flirtatious without, he suspected, her intending it to be ‘...we could discuss it now. Pretty please. It won’t take long, and I promise, you’ll be glad. When you hear what I’ve put together, I know you’ll be convinced this is a good fit.’
‘You really don’t give up, do you?’
‘No. And that’s another reason you should want me on the job.’
‘Generally, I admire persistence,’ he admitted after a beat. ‘But I’m not in the mood tonight.’
‘Or ever?’ she prompted, watching carefully as he garnished their meals with a drizzle of olive oil.
‘What does that mean?’
‘You don’t seem like the wedding planning type. Why did your sister put you in charge?’
It was a question he didn’t feel like answering.‘Remember rule number one?’
She blinked, confusion on her features so beautiful and surprising that he wanted to take the words back. ‘I’m not your house guest,’ she said softly. ‘Meaning you don’t want to answer the question?’
‘There is no question to answer.’ His nostrils flared. ‘You really are very inquisitive for someone who turned up on my doorstep uninvited.’
‘Hey.’ Her voice held a reprimand, which he wasn’t expecting. ‘You started this.’ Her eyes were reproachful, and he felt that all the way to his gut. He hardened himself to her obvious charms.
‘I feel I have the right to askyouquestions,’ he responded, spooning some rice into his mouth and glaring at her as he ate.
