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His expression showed scepticism, but she barely registered it.
She forced a smile to her face. ‘Besides, they got to be grandparents to Leo, and believe me when I tell you: no child has ever been more spoiled nor adored. No baby has ever been so hugged and kissed.’
His frown deepened. ‘Yet they left you living in poverty?’
‘Poverty?’ She rolled her eyes now and gestured down the corridor. ‘My apartment might not have been a palace, but it was hardly a slum either, Matthias. Don’t be such a snob.’
His laugh was involuntary—no one had called Matthias a snob in his life.
‘Mum and Dad aren’t wealthy,’ she said softly, a warm smile touching her lips. ‘They helped when they could, but my dad has needed a heap of operations for his back and that didn’t come cheap.’
Matthias’s brow wrinkled.
‘Insurance wouldn’t cover it.’ She recalled the way her father had delayed the necessary procedures, insisting he could manage, when his body gradually betrayed him. ‘The last thing I wanted was for them to worry about Leo and me.’
‘But you have found it difficult?’
‘Financially?’
He nodded.
‘Yes. But that was my choice, my business. I knew being an artist would be hard. I have had to do things I didn’t particularly like, just to get by, to support Leo. It’s why I need the art show to be a success. I wanted my career to be able to support us, but in reality, who knows if that would ever have been possible.’
‘What things?’ he prompted, homing in on the detail she’d revealed.
‘Oh, nothing terrible. I just mean I’ve worked at school fairs doing sketch portraits, or markets, I’ve waitressed and bussed tables, doing whatever I can to earn money, so that I can keep doing what I really love.’
‘Which is painting.’
She nodded slowly. ‘But I’ve always known I’d probably have to grow up and get a real job some day.’
‘Your talent is rare. You shouldn’t abandon your art.’ The praise, so casually given, made her stomach roll.
‘Thank you. But, talented or not, it’s not an easy world to break into.’
He seemed to take her statement and mull on it, thinking it over for a moment, before nodding, almost dismissively. ‘I must insist on calling your parents for myself, Frankie.’
‘But...why?’
He expelled slowly and his breath fanned her temple, so her blonde hair shifted a little. His eyes lifted to the motion. ‘Because there is no excuse for having left you. You were pregnant. Alone. And I should have been there.’
‘You didn’t know—’
He pressed a finger to her lips, his eyes beseeching her for silence. ‘I am not a man to run from his responsibilities.’ He was so strong, so big, she felt his insistence and understood it. ‘I failed you. I failed Leo.
And your parents deserve to hear that from me.’
Frankie was utterly struck dumb. His admission was almost an apology, one she had never expected from him.
‘You had no idea about Leo,’ she said quietly in an attempt to relieve him of his burden of guilt. ‘I know you would have helped me if you had.’
‘We would have married,’ he agreed with complete confidence, never mind what Frankie might have thought of that. ‘And you would never have known a day of worry in your life.’
She silently disagreed with that. Perhaps not financial worry, but emotional? Oh, yes. This marriage was going to be fraught with stress for Frankie.
CHAPTER EIGHT
AFTER A BAKING-HOT DAY, it was bliss to sink into the cool water of the swimming pool and stare out at the glistening sea. Bliss to be alone, with her hair in a simple braid, her face wiped of make-up, her space clear of servants. Leo had thrown a tantrum in the afternoon and though Liana had remained calm and helped Frankie remember that two-year-olds threw tantrums, that there was nothing abnormal about that behaviour, especially in strong-willed little boys, Frankie was nonetheless drained. And it had less to do with Leo and more to do with Matthias than Frankie wanted to admit. Every encounter with the man who would become her husband required so much effort. So much self-control. It was becoming increasingly difficult to remember why she wanted to keep him at arm’s length. Or to care.
