‘It’s such a pleasure to have three dedicated family men here,’ he began with a genial smile for all of them. ‘As someone who has always determined to put family first, it is of course important to me that the man who takes on Tyson Resorts share my values.’ He paused, his smiling gaze moving to his wife and then to his children. ‘While I am saddened that my own children have not chosen this task, I understand completely why they’ve decided to pursue their own dreams—as I of course wish them to. My children are my pride and my joy, the touchstone of my life, along with my wife. The happiness I’ve experienced with my family is what I wish for each of you, and for every family who visits a Tyson resort.’
Luca couldn’t bear to hear any more. He shifted in his seat, and Hannah squeezed his hand in warning. He couldn’t leave now, but he could at least tune out Tyson’s words.
Finally Tyson raised his glass and everyone else did as well, murmuring ‘Hear, hear...’ dutifully. Luca drained his glass of wine and then pulled away from Hannah.
‘Luca,’ she began, but he just shook his head.
‘Later,’ he managed, and then strode down the terrace steps, out into the darkness.
* * *
Hannah dabbed her mouth with her napkin, trying to cover the worry that she was sure was visible on her face. What kind of terrible history could Luca possibly have with Andrew Tyson? She glanced at the man who was now chatting with Simon and Rose Tucker, and decided she would make her excuses as well. If Luca left without her, it might look as if they were having a lovers’ tiff. If they both left, people might assume it was a romantic tryst instead.
She made her farewells to the Tysons, telling them that Luca had wanted to steal her away for a moonlit walk on the beach.
‘Ah, young love,’ Andrew answered with a genial smile. ‘There’s nothing like it.’
No indeed, Hannah thought grimly as she held handfuls of her dress to keep from tripping down the stone steps that led directly to the beach.
Away from the candlelit terrace, the beach was awash in darkness, the white sand lit only by a pale sickle of moon. Hannah couldn’t see Luca anywhere. Impatiently she kicked off the silver stiletto heels that made walking in sand impossible, and gathered a big handful of gauzy dress around her knees so she could walk unimpeded. Then she set off in search of her erstwhile fiancé.
HANNAH FOUND LUCA about half a mile down the beach, away from the villa, with nothing but a few palm trees for company. He sat with his elbows resting on his knees, his head cradled in his hands. Hannah had never seen such an abject pose; every powerful line of Luca’s body seemed to radiate despair.
She hesitated, not wanting to intrude on his moment of sorrowful solitude, but not wanting to leave him alone either. He looked too lonely.
‘I’m not going to bite your head off,’ Luca said, his voice low and so very weary. ‘Although you have good reason to think I would.’
She came closer, her dress trailing on the sand that was cool and silky under her bare feet.
‘I wasn’t thinking that,’ she said quietly, and came to sit beside him, drawing her knees up as his were. He didn’t lift his head. She thought about asking him yet again what pain and secrets he was hiding, but she didn’t think there was much point. Luca didn’t want to tell her and, truthfully, she didn’t blame him. She had pain and secrets of her own she didn’t want spilling out. Still, she felt she had to say something.
‘The petits fours weren’t actually that good,’ she ventured after a moment. ‘So you really didn’t miss much.’
Luca let out a soft huff of laughter, and somehow that sounded sad too.
‘I know what it’s like to grieve, Luca,’ Hannah said quietly.
‘Is that what you think I’m doing?’
‘I don’t know, and I won’t ask because I know you don’t want to tell me. But...’ she let out her breath slowly ‘... I know what it’s like to feel angry and cheated and in despair.’
‘Do you?’ Luca lifted his head to gaze at her speculatively; she could only just make out the strong lines and angles of his face in the moonlit darkness. ‘Who do you grieve, Hannah?’
It was such a personal question, and one whose answer she didn’t talk about much. Yet she was the one who had started this conversation, and if Luca wasn’t able to talk about his pain, perhaps she should talk about hers.
‘My father, for one,’ Hannah answered. ‘He died when I was fifteen.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Luca stared straight ahead, his arms braced against his knees. ‘How did it happen?’
‘A heart attack out of the blue. He went to work and dropped dead at his desk. It was a complete shock to everyone.’
‘Which must have made it even harder.’
‘Yes, in a way. My mother wasn’t prepared emotionally, obviously, or financially.’
Luca glanced at her. ‘Your father didn’t leave her provided for?’
‘No, not really. He’d always meant to take out a life insurance policy, but he never got around to it. He was only forty-two years old. And savings were slim... He wasn’t irresponsible,’ she hastened to add. ‘Just not planning for the disaster that happened.’ And she’d decided long ago not to be bitter about that. She’d simply chosen to make different choices.
‘So what did your mother do?’
‘Got a job. She’d been a housewife for sixteen years, since before I was born, and she’d been a part-time preschool teacher before that. It was tough to find work that earned more than a pittance.’
‘And what about you?’
‘I worked too, after school. We sold our house and rented a small flat. That helped with expenses.’ But it had been hard, so hard, to go from the simple, smiling suburban life she’d had as a child to working all hours and living in a small, shabby flat.
‘I’m sorry,’ Luca said again. ‘I never knew.’
‘I never told you.’ She paused, waiting for him to volunteer something of his own situation, but he didn’t. ‘What about you?’ she asked at last. ‘What happened to your parents?’
Luca was silent for a long moment. ‘My mother died when I was fourteen.’
‘I’m sorry.’
His cynical smile gleamed in the darkness. ‘We’re both so sorry, aren’t we? But it doesn’t change anything.’
‘No, but sometimes it can make you feel less alone.’
‘How do you know I feel alone?’
She took a deep breath. ‘Because I do, sometimes.’ Another breath. ‘Do you?’
Luca didn’t answer for a long moment. ‘Yes,’ he said finally. ‘Yes, all the time.’ He let out a hollow laugh. ‘And no more so than when I was looking at Andrew Tyson and his damn kids.’ His voice broke on the words and he averted his head from her, hiding his face, shielding his emotion.
‘Oh, Luca.’ Hannah’s voice broke too, for her heart ached to see this proud, powerful man brought to such sadness.
‘Don’t.’ His voice was muffled, his head still turned away from her. ‘Don’t pity me, Hannah. I couldn’t bear it.’
‘I don’t—’
‘I’d rather someone attacked me than pitied me. It’s the worst kind of violence, cloaked as something kind or virtuous.’ He spoke scathingly, the words spat out,