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‘That’s just sex,’ she intoned flatly, her heart thumping achingly. ‘Like you said.’
‘No,’ he denied quickly, as though his life depended on her understanding. ‘It was never just sex. I’ve done that. I know the difference.’
Great—just what she needed. A reminder of his virility and the way he’d indulged it with other women.
‘I told myself I’d come to London to see Art, but really I should have known it was all about you. I wasn’t sure you’d want to speak to me after the things I’d said and the way I’d behaved. I had a whole plan worked out, to make it impossible for you to ignore me, but then you weren’t there.’
‘What plan?’ she asked, lifting her coffee to her lips and sipping it slowly while her mind worked even more slowly.
‘To surprise you at your desk. To tell you I was meeting with Art to let him know that I can never sell Prim’amore after what it has come to mean to me. That I plan to build the house my mother designed and live in it with the woman I love. That I want to wake up every morning to the sound of you making coffee and turning the pages of your book. That I want to swim through the caves with you by my side, that I will build you your very own stairway into the volcano so that you can swim in its depths any time you wish. That the island is our home—that I believe it was our home from that very first night.’
A sob bubbled inside her chest and she dug her nails into her palms again, trying to quell it.
‘But you weren’t there, and when I heard you had been fired I felt guilt and despair in measures I have never known. I didn’t protect you. I left you to face the firing squad.’
‘It wasn’t your job to protect me,’ she said with stoic determination.
‘No, but it is my privilege to want to,’ he corrected quietly. ‘I had arrogantly assumed you would be there, waiting for me to make my grand gesture and sweep you off your feet.’
‘I would have quit if he hadn’t fired me,’ she said with a small shake of her head. ‘I betrayed him.’
‘You were trying to do a favour for Cressida,’ he pointed out. ‘You weren’t to know she was using you so that she could marry that dropkick.’
Tilly swallowed. ‘Anyway,’ she said softly, her heart and mind fogged from all that he’d said, unsure how to proceed, ‘it’s done.’
‘How is your brother?’ he asked.
She started, shifting her eyes to his. ‘I... He’s okay,’ she said, though she was guilty there too, for she had been so caught up with her own sadness that she’d barely checked in with Jack.
‘Matilda?’ he said, and she pulled a face.
‘Tilly, please. The only time I’m called Matilda is when my parents are really, really angry with me.’
His smile flickered but it was reserved; uncertainty sat heavily around his shoulders. ‘Tilly,’ he said, the word low and deep.
Her nerves clenched.
‘I was angry with you, and yet I am so lucky. I get to fall in love with you not once, but twice.’
She looked at him in confusion.
‘The woman I met on the island, whom I loved instantly and completely—the woman who opened her heart to me and buried herself deep in mine. And now you and everything about you I don’t yet know. Who are your family? What are your dreams? I want to know, and I want to love all of you. Will you let me?’
She let out a small sound. A sob? A laugh? She couldn’t have determined, but it was accompanied by a watery smile and a nod of her head.
‘I didn’t want to lie to you,’ she whispered. ‘As soon as I knew how serious we were I wanted to tell you, but there was the money and... It all happened so fast.’
‘I know this,’ he said, stroking her hair. ‘Tilly, I am sorry you lost your job. And if it’s any consolation I believe Art would welcome you back with a flowery speech that would even outdo me.’ He grinned.
She smiled. ‘His is not an easy office to run.’
‘I can imagine.’ Rio nodded. ‘But, as you are not working now, perhaps you would consider coming with me. Now. Tonight.’
‘Coming with you where?’
His smile spread across his face like butter on warm toast. ‘Into our future, mi amore.’
* * *
