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He wasn’t in the mood for company. He scooped a tennis ball from his pocket and pitched it in the air, catching it with his racket and slamming it against his practice wall, hard. It made a satisfying thwomp as it connected with the concrete surface. He moved to intercept its return, volleying it back, and again, and then the doorbell rang once more.
He cursed into the basement, dropping his racket to the floor, uncaring for the noise, stalking towards the wall and unhooking a towel. He wiped his face then lifted the intercom from its cradle. “Yes?” He barked in his native tongue.
It had been two weeks since Bella had come to his office. Two weeks in which he saw her hurt every time he blinked and wanted to slap himself for what he’d done to her. Not just a woman – Andrew’s daughter. Kat’s daughter.
Familiar guilt burned him alive.
He’d acted as though he hadn’t remembered her and God, how he wished he hadn’t. How he wished he hadn’t been obsessing over the dark act he’d committed and the implications.
How he wished he’d never met her.
How he wished he’d not gone to the wedding.
“Vit? It’s me.”
His chest tightened. He’d know those husky tones anywhere. Kat.
He swore inwardly, sweeping his eyes shut, seeing Bella’s face and wishing he could push both women from his mind.
He wanted to send Kat away, but their relationship wasn’t like that. He’d promised Andrew he’d look after Kat and he’d done so, even when it had meant ignoring every impulse, in those early days, needing to stay true to his loyalty to his friend.
He sighed heavily, throwing the towel onto the counter. “Just a sec.”
He took the stairs rather than his lift, bypassing the kitchen and moving straight to the door. When he reached it, he realized he was wearing only his training shorts, nothing else, and wished he’d thought to grab a shirt before going to her.
He pulled the door inwards and Kat, beautiful Kat, stepped into his house, bringing with her the fragrance of lavender and loyalty.
“Oh, Vit,” she said, her lip trembling, her eyes huge. “I need a hug and a drink. In that order.”
Before he could respond, she threw herself against him, her diamond wedding ring catching his eye as she wrapped her arms around his waist, her body tight to his.
He’d gone to bed with Bella not knowing who she was, but hoping the sex could obliterate Kat from his mind. For one night, at least. And instead, it appeared the other woman had cured him, because Kat’s closeness did nothing for him now. She stroked his bare back and he felt nothing – only a need to put some physical distance between them.
He pulled away from her as soon as he could politely do so, finding it almost impossible to meet her eyes, surprised to discover he wanted her to simply go away again.
“Scotch?” He offered.
“Champagne,” she corrected, pulling a face. “And a shoulder to cry on.” Her eyes dropped, lingering on his shoulders and his gut twisted.
Bella flashed into his mind and he wanted to rail against something.
“Sure.” He concealed his inner-turmoil, striding through to his kitchen and reefing a bottle of Veuve
from the fridge. He popped the top and filled a glass for Kat, passing it to her without meeting her eyes. “I’ll be right back.”
He took the steps of his home two at a time, turning into his bedroom and pulling a shirt from the wardrobe and ripping it over his head.
Fortifying himself for the briefest moment, he returned downstairs to find Kat’s glass empty and her hands reaching for the bottle.
He took it from her, and now he looked at her, the fragile beauty in her face sad and wistful and captivating all at once. He poured her another glass of champagne, his chest pounding. He resisted his own desire for a drink. Alcohol wasn’t a good idea in this instance. He needed his wits about him, every single one of them.
“What’s happened?”
She rolled her eyes. “Everything.”
He laughed, despite himself. “Your flare for the dramatic aside, Kat, why don’t we start with specifics.”
“It’s Lorenzo,” she said, drinking half of her glass before placing it on the bench and standing, her slender body wrapped in a white trench coat, belted at her waist.
