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“You know.” He cleared his throat. “She’s getting older,” his lips were grim. “I think it is likely she won’t be with us much longer.”
“I’m sorry.”
He dipped his head in silent acknowledgement of her sympathy. “I went to school in England.” The words came out of nowhere but they brought her back to reality with an almighty bang.
“Did you?” It was strangled, because Maddie wasn’t naturally given to deception and concealing the fact she knew exactly where he went to school went against her every instinct.
“Mmm. Dugard, and then Gramercy,” he named the prestigious school Michael had won a scholarship to attend and despite the warmth of the day she felt ice trickle down her spine.
“I liked it. I loved it, in fact. But always I had a yearning in here,” he tapped his chest, “to come back to Italy.” His smile showed he had no concept of the bead of anxiety that was trembling through her central nervous system.
She didn’t respond. She couldn’t.
“I suppose you feel the same about your home given that you are a self-professed home-body?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I miss it, but…”
Her words trailed off into nothing. She felt the heat of his scrutiny on her profile, but continued looking out at the view.
“But?”
“I just needed a break.”
“From anything in particular?”
Her eyes jerked to his. It was as though he had some kind of hotline into her thoughts. She opened her mouth to say something but he spoke first.
“Let me guess? The bad break up?”
She bit down on her lower lip. She didn’t need to talk about Michael to be honest with Nico. She could keep things vague. But her heart began to hammer because keeping things secret had been her modus operandi for such a long time, it was a hard habit to break.
She nodded slowly.
“That bad, huh?”
She nodded again.
“Want to talk about it?” She angled her face to his to find him watching her and her heart turned over in her chest. She shook her head.
“You sure?”
She swallowed to bring moisture back to her mouth. “It’s hard.”
“Relationship crap often is.”
That was interesting – interesting enough to distract her. “Speaking from experience?”
His smile was tight. “Naturally. You don’t get to be my age without having some experience of heartbreak and dashed expectations.” He wiggled his thick, dark brows. “Which is why I’m volunteering myself as a willing shoulder to cry on.”
“Well, they are very nice shoulders,” she quipped, deliberately lightening the tone of their conversation.
He let the subject go, coming to stand behind her, wrapping one arm around her torso and using the other to gesture to the coastline. “Can you see the caves?”
She followed the direction of his hand, nodding, and he dropped his lips, buzzing them over her shoulder so her knees began to pulse. “They look so small from here.”
“Hard to believe they’re the entrance to such an elaborate network.”
“Yeah.”
