‘So why does Andrew Tyson want to meet us again?’ she asked, determined to keep focused on why they were there together.
‘I don’t know. He simply said he wanted to have dinner with us, to discuss the plans and get to know us better.’
‘Get to know us better?’ Hannah repeated as alarm bells started clanging. ‘But what if he suspects something? We could get tripped up easily enough.’
‘Could we?’ Luca asked softly. His eyes glittered in the darkness of the car. ‘I think we know each other rather well by now.’
Hannah was glad the darkness hid her blush. ‘That may be so, but there are still questions he could ask us, about how you proposed—’
‘On top of the Eiffel Tower.’
‘Luca.’ Hannah’s breath came out in a rush. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘Yes, I know you’re tired of the pretence, just as I am. But tonight will be the last, Hannah. I’m hoping Tyson will announce his intentions for the resorts tonight.’ He glanced out of the window. ‘I need him to,’ he said in a low voice.
Hannah gazed at his tense profile for a few seconds before asking quietly, ‘What is the source of the bad blood between you and Tyson, Luca? What happened, that he doesn’t even know about it?’
‘It was a long time ago.’
‘That’s not an answer.’
‘It’s all the answer I’m going to give.’ Luca hesitated. ‘I’m sorry, Hannah. That part of my life is not up for discussion.’
* * *
Luca saw Hannah’s expression close up and knew she was hurt that he’d put her off. But how could he admit the truth? He’d already revealed enough about his childhood. He didn’t want to invite more pity—or condemnation, for his plans for Tyson. That part of his life wasn’t up for discussion, and neither was it negotiable.
And while his plans for revenge remained crystalline clear, his feelings for Hannah were more confused than ever. He’d surprised himself by going to Jamie’s school yesterday, and then buying the boy a cake tonight. Even more unsettling was the excitement he’d felt at seeing Hannah; she looked amazing in the emerald-green dress that clung to her like a second skin and brought out the golden glints in her hair and eyes. His palms itched to smooth over her curves, to tug down the zip and watch the bright, satiny material fall away.
Nothing had dampened his desire for her, not the discovery that she had a son, not the flat refusal of his offer. In fact, both things made him want her more, which was contrary and frustrating. He’d enjoyed seeing her cuddle her son, and witnessing her obvious love for her child made a powerful ache reside inside him, for what he’d missed as a child himself, but also for what he hadn’t attempted to have as a man. The fact that she’d refused his sex-only offer made him respect her—more than he respected himself. She wanted more from a relationship. She wasn’t afraid to try for it.
But he was.
It was fear, pure and simple, that was keeping him from asking Hannah to have a real relationship. The knowledge was shaming. When had fear ever held him back? He’d brokered huge deals, taking massive business risks. He’d started virtually empty-handed, a twenty-two-year-old fresh out of university with nothing to recommend him but a degree. How could he be afraid now? And not just now, but all along?
He’d thought staying solitary was being strong, but since coming to know Hannah, since witnessing her own particular brand of courage, he wondered if it was actually weakness.
And that thought was the most terrifying of all. Because if he did try just as Hannah had asked him to, if he risked himself, heart and soul, what then? What happened if—when—Hannah walked away from him?
The limo pulled up in front of the upscale restaurant Tyson had suggested for their meeting. Luca glanced at Hannah, the lights from the streets washing over her pale, strained features. She wasn’t looking forward to pretending again, and, God knew, he wasn’t either.
‘Hannah.’ He rested a hand over hers, savouring the warmth of her skin, the comfort of the contact. ‘I promise this is the last time. We won’t have to pretend again, ever, no matter what.’
She turned to face him, her eyes huge in her face. ‘Do you really mean that?’
‘Yes.’
‘What if Tyson asks for another meeting? What if he wants us to come to the opening of the resorts?’
‘He won’t,’ Luca stated flatly and Hannah shook her head, her expression turning wild.
‘But don’t you see, Luca? The pretence never ends. He might be expecting an invitation to our wedding—’
‘He won’t. And in a few weeks or months, we can quietly announce our broken engagement.’
‘Oh.’ She sat back against the seat as if she’d been winded. ‘I see. So I’m thrown over for the next supermodel?’
‘I never suggested such a thing,’ Luca returned sharply. ‘We can make it a mutual decision, or you can be the one to throw me over. I deserve it, after all I’ve put you through.’ And yet the thought made everything inside him clench in denial. They were talking about a fake engagement and yet he still felt rejected. Because he didn’t want to end things with Hannah. Not yet. Not until...when?
He knew he was being ridiculous. It was better to be safe than sorry. Better to be alone and strong than broken-hearted and weak. He’d lived by that. He’d built his life on that knowledge. He couldn’t change now.
Could he?
‘We should go in,’ Hannah said tiredly as she reached for the door handle. She turned her face from him, and Luca felt the loss.
* * *
The excitement Hannah had felt at spending the evening with Luca had fizzled out. She felt tired and sad and strangely empty, and the prospect of pretending for several hours filled her with despair. She didn’t want this. She wanted Luca to love her for real. She wanted to be honest about her feelings, not play this wretched game—and for what? A business deal that was practically pocket change to a man like Luca?
He hadn’t wanted to tell her about his history with Tyson, and his flat, final tone had made her afraid to push. Luca had made it clear she had no rights in his life, even if she wanted them.
The restaurant was quiet and elegant, with each table afforded maximum privacy. Waiters moved discreetly around the room with its frescoed walls and plush carpeting, and the only sound was the tinkle of expensive crystal and silver, the low murmur of conversation.
The understated ambiance reminded Hannah poignantly of that first dinner she’d had with Luca, when he’d bought her clothes and she’d felt gauche and unsure and yet also excited. Before everything had begun. It hadn’t even been two weeks ago, and yet it felt like a lifetime. She felt like a different person, one who had lived and loved and lost.
Hannah told herself she was being melodramatic. Two weeks. You couldn’t fall in love with someone in two weeks, especially when you hadn’t even been looking for love in the first place.
But you’ve known him for three years.
‘Luca, Hannah.’ Andrew Tyson’s melodious voice floated out to them as he stood up at the private table he’d reserved for them in a corner of the restaurant. ‘So nice to see you again.’
Luca’s arm snaked around her waist and he drew her close enough so their hips nudged. Heat stroked along Hannah’s veins at the contact. The attraction she felt for Luca was as potent as ever.
Tyson stuck out his hand for Luca to shake and after the tiniest pause Luca shook it. ‘Andrew.’ His voice was even, businesslike without being friendly.