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He swore again. “Don’t. Don’t be angry.” Gently, he pulled her dress, lifting it back into position. She was shivering, but he suspected it wasn’t from the cold.
“I don’t know what came over me.” She wrapped her arms around her waist. “I’m not myself at the moment.”
“Why not?” He reached behind her and eased the zipper back up, then placed his jacket back around her shoulders.
The truth was, she’d felt more like herself in the last
half hour than she had in a month. “My dad just died,” she blurted, feeling guilty at using her father’s death as an excuse now. “I’m behaving strangely.”
Luca had no real point of reference. His own parents had abandoned him as a child. He’d gone from foster home to foster home, until he’d been accepted on a scholarship to the prestigious Swiss school he’d attended. The same school where he’d met Davies, and cast the dye for the rest of his life. “Were you close?”
She nodded, not bothering to hide the tears. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry, then.”
She frowned. “That’s a funny thing to say. Would it be less sad if we weren’t close?”
When Luca had made his fortune, many years earlier, he’d decided to discover the truth of his parentage. Far from being the destitute unfortunates he’d always imagined, he discovered that his parents were extremely wealthy. His father owned a large construction company that had been his father’s before him. It was a legacy business. One that Luca had instantly set his sights on purchasing. It was a move that was almost finalised. And, when he had the company in his portfolio, he would know he had truly avenged his parents for deserting him. He would buy his own legacy, and throw the truth back in his father’s face, when the time was right.
“Of course. Or at least, I imagine so. Losing a parent is the natural order of life, bella. It is something you must have been prepared for.”
She shook her head. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say. The inevitability of something makes it no less traumatic to endure.”
“I’m not so certain. Parents losing children is a greater tragedy, no?”
“I’m not going to debate the sliding scale of grief with you!” She said crossly.
“I did not mean to offend you. I was saying that it is possible to lose a parent and not feel completely grief-stricken, that is all.”
She shook her head. “Are you actually saying that I shouldn’t be feeling sad that my father has just died?”
“No, of course not. Because you were close to him. As though you were friends, too. That is difficult.”
Rosie ran a hand through her tousled hair. “I assume you’re not close to your parents, then.”
“Your assumption is correct. I never knew them.”
“Oh!” All thoughts of her own grief evaporated. “I’m so sorry, Luca. What happened?”
He rarely spoke of his birth parents. But then again, Rosie seemed like a woman he would enjoy many firsts with. “They did not want me.”
It had taken him many years to condense the story of his childhood into one concise, emotionally barren statement. They hadn’t wanted him. Nobody had. Only now, with billions of pounds in the bank, did he find that he was suddenly irresistible to all he met.
Rosie’s face almost broke his heart. It was so sympathetic. So apologetic. “I’m very sorry.”
“Di niente.” He murmured. “Their desertion helped turn me into who I am today. And I am happy with that.”
“I see.” She nodded, but an odd emptiness was gaping inside of her. She felt sadness for herself, and an even greater sadness for him. The bond she felt with this man was strengthening every second. “Luca?”
He looked down at her, and felt an odd twist in his gut. “Si, bella?”
“I think… maybe we should go somewhere after all.”
Surprise and relief flashed in him. He was no fool. She was offering herself to him, and he was not going to refuse.
“Yes. Let’s.”
He held a hand out to her and she slid hers into it. Briefly, she wondered if she’d become a completely different person. But then, she looked at his face, locked her eyes with his, and smiled.
