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‘Yes. I can’t marry her, though. And it was wrong of me to take her.’
Another long silence.
‘I’m sorry, but I thought I heard you say that you were wrong.’
He gritted his teeth. ‘I was.’
‘Why?’
Rafael didn’t want to have this discussion. Vincenzo had just married the woman he’d fallen in love with and probably wouldn’t be here for his thoughts on the nature of love. ‘Because she loves me.’
‘Obviously a cardinal sin,’ Vincenzo murmured dryly. ‘And I suppose you’re returning her now because she deserves better?’
Rafael glared at the desktop. ‘She does.’
‘Ah.’ Vincenzo sounded as if he’d just discovered something very interesting. ‘I see.’
‘You see?’ Rafael growled. ‘What do you see?’
‘You’re in love with her.’
His heart froze, everything froze. ‘No.’
‘Yes, you fool. Of course you are.’
‘What makes you—?’
‘Because that’s what I did with Eloise. You send them away, telling yourself you’re protecting them, but it’s not to protect them. You’re protecting yourself, because you’re in love and you’re damn terrified.’
Rafael’s heart felt like a block of ice in his chest. ‘I can’t,’ he said roughly. ‘Love makes people do terrible things. You know Carlos. You know what he was like. You know—’
‘Oh, please,’ Vincenzo said in some disgust. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you of all people would let that old bastard define who you are.’
‘I’m not,’ Rafael ground out.
‘You are. Do you really think you’re capable of hurting someone? That you would ever hurt her?’
‘I’d rather kill myself than hurt her. That’s why I had to send her away.’
‘Dramatic, but that answers that question.’ Vincenzo’s voice was bone dry. ‘You’re afraid, Rafael. And you’re using your father as an excuse. And that I understand. But it’s not only you that you need to think about. Doesn’t she deserve love?’
The block of ice around his heart began to soften, gradually, slowly.
Lia, sitting in that armchair with whisky and a cigar.
Lia, eyes glowing, arguing with him.
Lia, in his arms, passionate and loving.
Lia, looking at him.‘I love you, Rafael.’
Who had ever loved him? Not his father. Not his mother.
Lia, looking at the photo of his mother with her arms around him.‘She must have loved you...’
If you were all bad, why is she smiling?
‘You were blameless, a child. And she was damaged...’
