Page 14 of Expecting His Billion-Dollar Scandal
Like the one lying next to her floating on the gently rolling water.
But, she hurriedly amended in her head, clearlynotthe one next to her. Maybe one similar.
‘Oh, but I do believe in marriage,’ Luca said wryly. He thought of Isabella, waiting for him back in Italy, and a sharp tug of guilt drove into him with the force of a serrated knife cutting through skin. There was nothing to feel guilty about. He knew that. At least, the cold, logical side of his brain knew that. He was on the same page as the woman floating alongside him so what if, besides the fact that he wouldn’t be sticking around, another very valid reason for him being the least suitable man on the planet for her lay in the fact that he was practically engaged to someone? Did that matter? No, of course it didn’t because a relationship wasn’t on the table and he’d been brutally honest in making that clear.
Aside from which...he was fond of Isabella and she was perfect for him because she would never ask for what he couldn’t give. They would marry and two great families would unite and, of course, they would be careful about their outside interests because, under the guise of marriage, they would be as brother and sister. She and her girlfriend, Ella, would carry on seeing one another and he...he would discreetly do what any red-blooded man would have to do to satisfy his libido. For a man who did not believe or trust in love, it would be the ideal marriage.
And yet...
Suddenly restless, he began swimming back to shore, making sure that Cordelia was following him and then slinging his arm around her shoulders as they stepped out of the water. He retrieved the swimming trunks and put them on.
‘You just haven’t found the right woman? Is that it?’ Cordelia returned to the conversation as she began unpacking the picnic, carefully putting the contents of Tupperware containers on the rug and not looking directly at him.
‘There’s no such thing as therightwoman.There is, however, such a thing as asuitablewoman. I want to have a family as much as the next person,’ he confided with utmost honesty. ‘I also want to have a successful marriage and, as far as I’m concerned, those two things are perfectly possible provided there are no unreasonable expectations on either side.’ He paused and Isabella flashed into his head once again. For all her sexual proclivities, they would produce the requisite heir. A discreet consultant would easily facilitate that. The signatures weren’t exactly on the paper yet, but they would be by the time he returned to Italy.
The business of love would never complicate matters. Luca wondered whether that was why he had returned to Cornwall, to remind himself of what he already knew. Love had destroyed his father and Cornwall was a symbol of that love. You could almost say that that was where the story began.
‘I don’t suppose that’s exactly your cup of tea, is it?’ He looked at her, appreciating, yet again, the white-blonde tangle of her hair flowing down her back and over her shoulders...the healthy gold of her skin, so much darker than where the sun didn’t touch...the intense violet of her eyes...the athleticism of her strong body. Jesus, was he hardeningagain?
‘Not at all,’ Cordelia admitted lightly. She passed him a chunky ham and cheese sandwich on a paper plate and sat back on her haunches to look at him for a few seconds. The glare was sharp and she was squinting into the sun. ‘Not many women would accept that sort of situation.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ Luca murmured in response. It felt as if he’d already said too much. Sitting here, talking about this touchy-feely stuff...made him vaguely uneasy. Something about her lulled him into feeling just so damnedcomfortable. ‘Nice sandwich.’ He changed the subject, steering firmly away from dangerous ground. ‘Generous.’
Cordelia burst out laughing at his expression. ‘I’ve spent too many years making sandwiches for my dad and some of the other fishermen to switch from sandwiches like these to delicate little cucumber ones.’ She sobered up and settled into a more comfortable position. ‘Why don’t you believe in love? What happened?’
Luca looked at her. Her expression was open and quizzical. No agenda there. She was so much a part of this wild, beautiful, Cornish slice of land and yet as trapped in it as he was trapped in his own privileged, rarefied world, if only she knew.
He experienced a moment of such perfectonenessthat he had to clear his throat and make a conscious effort to gather himself.
‘I don’t...’Don’ttalk about my private life to anyone, ever.‘I don’t know what happened, but I’ve figured out over the years that my father’s disastrous personal life had something to do with it.’ He paused. There was an odd, swooping sensation in the pit of his stomach that he had never experienced before. She was quietly working her way through her sandwich and thoroughly enjoying it. He’d brought champagne but he figured she would be the sort of girl who wouldn’t mind a pint now and again. He had an insane desire to introduce her to his wines, watch her taste the soft subtleties on her palate and, again, he had to shake himself back into the moment and remember,with relief,that in the blink of an eye he would walk away, back to reality, never to see her again.
‘I know how that feels.’ She smiled ruefully, prompting him to do the unthinkable and continue.
‘My mother died when I was young.’ His smile matched hers. ‘We may have more in common than you think because her death blew a hole in my father’s life and he was never the same since. Unlike your father, though, he didn’t emotionally retreat from the world and he certainly didn’t become overprotective of me. The opposite. My father has made a career out of trying to find a substitute for what he lost. Never succeeded.’
‘Do you have siblings?’
‘No. There’s just me.’
No twin, as you had, to share the loneliness and grief, just a father walking away as he tried to carve a life of his own to fill his own void, leaving his only son to work things out for himself.
‘Holding the fort, so to speak.’ He thought of those vast acres of vineyards and the incomparable wealth, growing daily under his studious, watchful eye. Her idea of the fort in question would bear no resemblance to reality, that was for sure.
‘Working to keep things ticking over. Like me.’ She had a vision of him, so strong, labouring under the sun, watching out for his father the way she watched out for hers. ‘Do you live with your dad? You should count your blessings that your father has allowed you to get on with living your life. An overprotective dad can be more of a curse than a blessing sometimes.’
‘He lives nearby,’ Luca murmured.
‘Close enough to be a problem?’ She raised her eyebrows and grinned.
‘Close enough for me to keep an eye on him.’ Luca’s mouth twitched and he smiled back at her. The sandwiches, he thought, were bloody good. Wholesome. ‘The truth is life might have been better if he’d done what your father did, and retreated, at least for a decent amount of time. Instead, my father has entered into marriages with alarming regularity and none of the endings have been good ones.’
‘I’m getting the picture.’ No wonder he was jaded, she thought with a spurt of sympathy. She rested her hand on his wrist and gave it a little squeeze. The feel of that touch sent an electric charge racing straight from his wrist to what was visibly stirring underneath the swimming trunks. He shifted uncomfortably, adjusting himself in the process.
Whatever picture she was getting, it certainly wasn’t a complete one.
‘It must have been a lonely time for you.’
Luca shrugged. ‘I’ve never been lonely in my life.’ He thought back with some fondness to the English boarding school he had attended for so many years. No, there had been no shortage of people in his life. Had he been lonely? He frowned, unwilling to give house room to that notion, which smacked of the sort of weakness he despised.
