‘Dante!’ Katrina’s voice pierced the still afternoon. Completely flustered, somehow Matilda managed to dress in record time, zipping up her shorts and almost falling over as she pulled on her boots, until, with her heart pounding, the footsteps drew closer and the gate was pushed open. Matilda did not even look over as Katrina approached and bluntly addressed Dante. ‘I saw your car—what on earth are you doing home?’
‘Trying to catch up on some reading,’ Dante said casually, but it didn’t wash with Katrina and after a long pause he elaborated. ‘I thought I’d see how the garden was coming along before I shut myself away for the rest of the day. Where’s Alex?’
Katrina didn’t say anything at first, suspicious eyes swivelling from Dante to Matilda. ‘Asleep in the car,’ she finally said slowly. ‘I was just going to carry her in.’
‘I’ll come and help,’ Dante offered, but Katrina had already gone, walking out of the garden without a backward glance. Matilda stood with her cheeks flaming, her anxious eyes swinging to Dante, hoping for reassurance.
‘Do you think she knew?’
‘Of course not.’ Dante shook his head but a muscle was pounding in his cheek, his hands balled into fists by his sides, and Matilda realised that Katrina’s intrusion hadn’t just wrecked the intimate moment—it was almost as if she’d erased it completely. ‘Why on earth would she think there was anything between us?’
She truly wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure her, or was blatantly degrading her, but Matilda did a dou-ble-take, stunned at the change in him. Gone was the man who had so recently held her and in his place was the inaccessible man she had first encountered.
‘Because maybe she guessed that we just made love.’
Matilda eyes glittered with tears, willing him to take it back, to perhaps realise the brutality of what he had just said, to offer some sort of apology. But Dante just stood there refusing to take it as she offered him an out from his rancid words. ‘Because maybe she’s noticed that over the last few days we’ve become close…’
‘No.’ His single word hurt her even more, if that were possible, his refusal to soften it cheapening her more than she’d thought possible.
‘So what was that all about?’ Matilda asked, gesturing to where they had lain, where he’d found her, held her, made love to her, forcing the confrontation, steeling herself to hear the confirmation of her worst fears. ‘What just happened there, Dante?’
‘Sex.’ Black eyes stung her, a warning note in his voice telling her she’d crossed the line. His lips set in a rigid line as she shook her head, refused his take on the history they’d so recently created.
‘It was more than that and you know it,’ Matilda rasped, shocked by his callousness, reeling from the ferociousness of his sparse summing-up, yet refusing to buy it, because she knew there was more to him, had witnessed the real Dante only moments before, and all she knew was that she wanted him back. ‘Dante, please, don’t do this…’ Matilda attempted, her hand reaching out for his arm, but he recoiled as if she was contaminated, shook her off as if she revolted him.
‘Good sex, then,’ came the elaboration she had foolishly hoped for, the bile at the back of her throat appropriate as he told her his poisonous truth. And it was Matilda recoiling now, Matilda putting up the shutters and swearing she’d never let this man near her again.
‘No, Dante, it wasn’t.’ This time she wasn’t lying, wasn’t denying what she felt. Looking into his cold, hard eyes, she told him the absolute truth. ‘Good sex isn’t just the act, Dante, it’s about how you feel afterwards, and right now, I couldn’t feel worse.’ She knew he was about to walk off, knew that if she didn’t say what was on her mind now then it would fester for ever, had learnt that much at least, so whether he was listening or not she chose to say what she felt. ‘I don’t know what your problem is, I don’t know what it is that drives you to shut out something that could have been so good. Maybe you can justify it by saying that I’m not sophisticated enough to play by your rules, or that I don’t hold a candle to your wife, but that’s entirely your business. Frankly, I don’t care any more.’
His only response was a blink, but she knew that she’d surprised him, knew that even as he shut her out further, right now a little of what she was saying was reaching him. It gave her the impetus to continue, the pain he’d inflicted more than enough to go round. ‘I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know for having sex with you, Dante, but, let’s get one thing clear—I might have lost a bit of my pride here, but you just lost one helluva lot more…’ It was Matilda who walked off, Matilda who headed to the house and left him standing in the garden. She refused to cry, just called her parting shot over her shoulder. ‘You just lost me!’
CHAPTER NINE
HIS callousness, his emotional distancing after the intimacy they’d shared made the most painful of decisions relatively easy, made walking away from Dante about need rather than want. Because sharing his home, glimpsing his life and being shut out over and over was a torture that couldn’t be sustained and gave Matilda the momentum to pick up the phone and call on every friend and colleague she could muster with a view to rapidly finishing the task she had committed herself to, and rapidly removing herself from this impossible situation she had allowed herself to fall into.
It was the most exhausting time of her life. Hanging the expense, more than happy to bill him, more than happy to pay for it herself even, Matilda ordered floodlights to enable her to work long into the warm nights, grateful for the soothing diversion of nature, grateful that by the time her aching body fell into bed at night, all she was capable of was rest, taking the respite of a dreamless, exhausted sleep while knowing the pain would surely come later.
‘I can’t believe what you’ve achieved.’ Deep into a humid, oppressive Saturday evening, Hugh poured her a glass of champagne Matilda didn’t want from the bottle he was holding, having wandered over from the al fresco area where the family had eaten a leisurely dinner. He was now staring in astonishment at the garden, which was almost complete, the sleeping beauty truly awoken, the overgrown wilderness a distant memory. In its place was a child’s paradise—a maze of soft hedges, each leading to its own exciting end, soft turf underfoot and thousands of tiny fairy-lights adorning the massive willow—twinkling in the dusky light and bidding enchantment. ‘What do you think, Katrina?’
‘It’s very nice.’ Katrina’s response wasn’t exactly effusive, but Matilda couldn’t have cared less. The only thing she needed to see her through was the knowledge that in less than twelve hours she’d be out of there, in less than twelve hours she could start to pick up the pieces of her life Dante had so readily shattered. ‘Of course,’ Katrina added, ‘it’s Alex’s opinion that counts.’
Almost on cue, the gate opened and, as she had over the last couple of days whenever their paths had inadvertently crossed, Matilda didn’t even look at Dante. Instead, she focused her attention on Alex, who walked tentatively alongside him, her tiny hand in his. She looked utterly adorable, dressed in cotton pyjamas and cute kitten slippers, newly washed blonde curls framed her pretty face. And as livid and as debased as Matilda felt, momentarily at least, it faded as she watched the little girl’s reaction. Watched as her normally vacant eyes blinked in wonder as she actually surveyed the transformation, a smile breaking out on her serious face as Matilda flicked on a switch and the water features danced into life. It was like seeing the sun come out as a tiny gasp of wonder escaped Alex’s lips. She moved forward, reached out and ran, ran as most children would have, but