by Donna Alward
He stood, his lips thinning with disapproval. “Nothing I’ve done this morning was out of obligation, Mariella.”
“Sure it was. You could hardly wake me up and kick me out now, could you? That’s not very good manners, not when we’re supposed to be…what is it we’re supposed to be again, Luca?”
She finally looked at him, but his expression was too guarded for her to know what he was thinking.
“I will confess. I’m not sure what is appropriate to say in this situation. It’s not one I’ve been in before.”
Luca stared at her. That much was completely true. He’d never been in a situation where he cared more about a woman’s feelings than his own. So why was she angry? He’d tried to do the right thing. Look after her, make her day easier, he’d even ordered breakfast for the two of them. He’d wanted to show her that what had transpired yesterday made no difference to him. If anything, it made him respect her more. Everything he’d done, including being here, instead of his office, where he normally would be found at this hour, had been to show her that he cared, that he wasn’t running away. He’d wanted to start the day on an even footing.
Now she was furious with him.
Mari started to walk away, her heart sinking. This probably was a new situation for him. He probably kept his affairs nice and neat and clean. She’d needed him so much that she’d obviously imagined things that weren’t real. If they had been real, this morning he would have awakened her with a smile. He would have inquired how she was feeling after yesterday and he would have told her it was all right.
And maybe he would have kissed her like she had been aching for him to.
But she’d frightened him off. And he didn’t even have the decency to be honest about it.
“I’m leaving now. Thank you for the clothing, but no thank you.”
“Where are you going?” Finally, there was something in his tone other than perfunctory manners. Mari nearly paused, but made her feet keep going until she reached the door and opened it.
“Mari, we have a meeting with the spa people in an hour.”
Mari lifted her chin. “I’m sure you can handle it, Luca. I’m taking the day off.”
She went out into the hall and closed the door behind her, without allowing herself to see the expression on his face. She let out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding.
It was time Mari got back to doing what she did best—relying on herself.
Chapter 10
Luca resisted the urge to call her house for the sixth—or was it seventh—time.
He’d been here too long. And nothing had made it clearer than the call he’d had to make earlier this morning, while Mari still slept.
He hadn’t known a body could sleep that long. He kept expecting her to wake throughout the evening, but she hadn’t. He’d scrounged through the snacks he kept in his bar and had thrown together what could hardly be considered a meal—bagel chips and some mix made from organic dried fruits.
And at last, around midnight, he’d lain on the sofa, listening for her, finally drifting into a vague sleep.
It was the first time a woman had ever slept in his bed and he hadn’t been with her.
At a faint dinging sound, he looked down at his computer screen. Another email from his father, an update on their interest in Paris, which had suffered fire damage. His father had not been pleased at being put off yesterday, and was pressing Luca to finish up and take care of their problems in France.
But it was the words at the end that had him running his fingers through his hair.
Gina’s in a mess and Paris can’t wait. You need to come back. The family needs you.
The words left an odd ache in him. The family was everything to him. Except…Except, he acknowledged, that he’d given his whole life to the family ever since he’d been a boy. He’d been the big brother Gina needed. He’d looked after the household for his father. And he’d wanted to do it. He’d been happy to do it. But there were times when he longed to just be Luca. To have his own life, separate from the family. To stop being defined by the Fiori brand. He was growing tired of being at the beck and call. He chafed at being summoned.
He typed back: I will speak to Gina and the manager in Paris. I will come as soon as I can. But my priority is here.
He signed off and hit send, then sat back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Dio, there was more truth in that last line than he’d truly meant. It wasn’t just The Cascade that was his priority, though he did consider it his “baby.” It was Mari. She was important.
But what did he want? He’d wanted his own place at Fiori for a very long time. But did what he want match with what Mari wanted? Hardly. Mari wanted the fairy tale, and he didn’t believe in them. The best thing he could do for her was make sure she had her feet beneath her and leave the running of The Cascade in her capable hands. It wouldn’t be enough for him, but it would be enough for her. Ambition wasn’t Mari’s goal; he got that now. She was after something more substantial. She’d built a life; she wanted stability, not adventure. It was odd how the idea appealed to him, especially today. Normally he’d be thrilled to go to Paris, it was one of his favorite cities. Now it felt like an imposition, because he was being ordered to go.
And even though he’d sent his response, he knew he had to leave. Someone from the company had to put in an appearance. He wasn’t clear on what was up with Gina, but he knew his father would be putting her first. It was up to Luca.
Yet…how could he possibly say goodbye to Mari now?
“The Panorama Room is completed. Have you seen it?”
Mari stopped by his desk. Something was distracting Luca and she didn’t know what it was. She fiddled with a pen on the top of his blotter. “No, I haven’t made it there today.”
Ever since their night together, she’d made sure she kept her distance. It was clear that Luca cared for her. He wouldn’t have acted so kindly, so gently, if he hadn’t cared a little. But she also knew her past was a lot to take on, and their situation wasn’t conducive to deep feelings and commitments.
He looked up and smiled, but somehow his heart didn’t seem to be in it. “Haven’t seen it? You gave me such a difficult time over the decor, and you haven’t checked it out yet?” He cleared his throat, rose, and shrugged into his jacket. “It can rival any of our dining rooms in any of our properties, I promise. I’ve booked the two of us a table for tonight. As a farewell.”
“A farewell?”
She paused, unmoving. So soon. She hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Little pieces of her heart drifted down to her feet.
“I’ve been called to Paris. I leave in the morning.”
Luca saw the blood rush from her face and cursed himself. He’d left it an extra day, but he couldn’t put it off any longer. Yet the fragile pallor of her skin reminded him of how she’d looked, small and defenseless in his king-sized bed. He couldn’t shake the image of her sleeping face, the way her hair slid over her pale cheek, the color matching her long eyelashes. Couldn’t erase the fantasy of that dark sheet of hair falling over his chest as they made love…
He turned away from her abruptly, running a hand over his hair.
“Luca, are you all right?”
He was tired of playing a charade.
This was insane. He wasn’t supposed to fall for Mari. A flirtation was one thing, but he didn’t intend to have serious feelings for a woman, any woman. And it was clear that Mariella was the wrong woman. She was fragile and afraid and trying to overcome something greater than he could comprehend. She deserved a man who could provide her with what she needed. Not a man like Luca who flitted from one place to the next.
It would never work between them. And looking at her now…he realized how it must have seemed to her yesterday. He’d been thinking of himself and putting up walls. He’d been wrong and she’d been right. He’d treated her with no consideration at all. Like he would have treated a mistress. With politeness, but not genuine caring. He wa
nted to make it up to her. To show her she was different…because she was.
“I’m fine. I just thought…it’s been an eventful few weeks. I thought we could leave it with a sense of occasion.”
He met her gaze, though it was difficult. She was watching him with eyes wide with compassion and understanding. She only thought she understood. He knew that now.
He would ensure that nothing about his leaving caused Mari further pain. She didn’t deserve that, not after all she’d been through. He’d be on his best behavior if it killed him.
He only knew that he had to talk to Mari tonight about how to end their relationship with the least hurt to anyone. He wouldn’t be here to protect her, to watch over her if her stepfather decided to find her. The thought chilled his blood and his footsteps faltered. Perhaps he couldn’t offer her the life she wanted, but he could damn well make sure she was looked after here.
“That would be lovely, Luca.” Her voice was soft, but it cut straight to the heart of him.
“I have some calls to make, first,” he said bluntly, and without another word, she left his office, shutting the door behind her.
He picked up the phone and began to put his plans in motion.
Mari studied her reflection with a frown, wondering for the umpteenth time if she should have worn the dress. But the Panorama Room was formal, and she knew the perfect dress was the one she’d bought after their gallery trip. Still heady from Luca’s kisses, she’d stared at it in the window for only a few seconds before darting inside to try it on. Mari had been under a spell that day, she was sure of it now. The rich scarlet silk of the dress seemed so unlike her, the cut even more daring as it swept from one shoulder down to her waist, leaving the other shoulder bare, the skirt then falling negligently to the floor.
It might have been modest except for the deep slit at the side, revealing her other moment of insanity – the red, sequined slingbacks.
She didn’t want to be here. She wasn’t sure how to gracefully say goodbye, not when she wanted more. Even when wanting more frightened her so badly her knees were shaking.
Mari swiped a finger beneath her eyelids, wiping away any stray smudges of liner and forcing a smile to the other occupant of the public bathroom.
Her life had been devoid of affection for so long, and she wanted desperately to be romanced. Even if it was only for tonight.
She gathered her pashmina firmly around her and squared her shoulders. It was impossible, she knew that. And caring for Luca as she did and still knowing he wasn’t for her gave even a simple farewell dinner a bittersweet taste.
She turned towards the marble stairs and her eyes fell on Luca, waiting for her at the top.
Her heart gave a single, satisfying thump, as if to say, “This is it.”
For a few seconds her feet refused to move as their gazes locked. It was something out of a bygone movie as she climbed each of the four stairs, her hand resting on the curve of the elaborate iron railing. The night of shared secrets ceased to exist; the tense atmosphere at breakfast and in the moments since drifted from her memory as she walked to him, her shoes making tiny clicks on the Italian veined marble, her breath catching at how very splendid he looked in evening wear.
At the top he took her hands and kissed each of her cheeks and her eyes slid closed before she could think twice. Pulling back slightly, he held out his arm, and she hesitantly looped hers through his elbow, awareness and something darker skittering along her nerve endings as he placed his hand over her forearm.
“You look…bellisima. Beautiful, Mariella. More beautiful than I can possibly describe.”
This was the Luca she remembered, not the practiced stranger from their breakfast, or the distant boss from this afternoon. Whatever had caused the change, it was gone and in its place was a man who exuded warmth and spoke to her as if she were the only woman in the world. She tried to push the hope down in her heart, yet a little of it remained. Her throat tightened as he led her to the door of the dining room. This was what he’d done to her, then. He’d made her hope where before there had been nothing.
Then the door opened, and her lips dropped open.
It was more than she’d dreamed, even though she’d seen the plans. Everything was gilded and regal, like stepping into a fairy tale with her prince on her arm. Chandeliers dripped with crystal and gold; pristine linens a backdrop for the cream and gold china and the distinctive tinkle of real crystal stemware. Candles flickered in clear, thick pots, covering everything with a luminous, peachy glow. Tuxedoed wait staff darted between tables amid the hush of opulence.
It was the royal castle Luca had envisioned from the beginning and it was perfect. She knew the end was growing near, yet that little seed of hope in her heart told her it felt like a beginning. “Oh, Luca. Look at what you’ve done.” Her feet stopped moving as she blinked rapidly.
“Not just me. You, Mariella. You inspired this the day you took me to the attic.”
“Me?” She turned to him in surprise, found his eyes on her steady and completely in earnest.
“You inspire me, Mariella. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her stomach lifting uncontrollably as his gaze dropped to her mouth. He wouldn’t dare kiss her here, would he?
And the moment held, suspended.
He’d been waiting. For her. Tonight she wanted to live the fairy tale. To grasp the few fleeting hours and pretend she was the princess. To believe she was chosen. She knew it would end soon enough. Tonight it was hers and she would not ruin it with doubts and fears.
Mari leaned forward slightly, her lips parting, close enough to feel Luca’s breath mingle with hers…
“Mr. Fiori? Your table is waiting.”
Mari stepped back, her cheeks heating. Luca’s arm tightened around her waist and the contact sizzled to her toes.
“Thank you.”
Mariella turned around, holding her breath. She was sure now that the gossip mill was probably running over time ever since she’d been in Luca’s suite at nine in the morning. But the hostess’s lips dropped open and her eyes lit. “Oh, Ms. Ross! Look at you! You look like a movie star.” Realizing her impertinence, she sighed. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
Mariella smiled, feeling it light from her toes. “Don’t be sorry,” Luca answered. “I agree with you. Shall we?”
The hostess led the way into the private dining alcove, the red velvet drapes held back by gold cord. Their table waited, champagne already chilled and ready to pour. As she sat, she beamed up at him. “Luca, this is amazing. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, you know. I certainly never expected it here. In what was the Bow Valley Inn.”
He poured the champagne, handing each of them a glass. “To remarkable transformations,” he murmured, touching his rim to hers.
Glasses clinked and Mari drank of the dry, fizzy champagne, feeling more with every moment that she was in a dream—a good one this time—and that at any moment she’d awake and the spell would be broken.
First courses arrived, then second; more champagne was drunk, and Mari made sure she put her glass down more frequently as things grew fuzzy and warm around the edges. Luca laughed as he recounted stories of his youth with Gina; escapades with each other and Luca’s winery-friend Dante who to all accounts sounded like hell on wheels and usually in the middle of any trouble. She alternated between feeling a beautiful sense of belonging at being privy to the memories, and an acute sadness of the sort of childhood she’d missed. She didn’t have any of the sorts of memories they did, of close times and scrapes and fun. Then Luca laughed and touched her hand beneath the table, and she shook off any lingering sadness. She’d learned to live in the moment a long time ago. This was no time to start having regrets or wishing for what had never been.
They were served dark chocolate terrine drizzled with raspberry coulis when Luca leaned forward and captured Mari’s hand.
Mari sat up straighter, startled at the sudden, personal gesture. But Luca
was completely sincere as he squeezed Mari’s fingers.
“When I arrived, I only wanted to do one thing: transform the hotel into something Fiori. But my time here has been so much more, Mari, and I have you to thank for that.”
Mari couldn’t reply; her gaze darted to Luca’s. His gaze was sincere. It was no protestation of love, but only a fool would expect such a thing. His statement was absolutely correct. It had been more than either of them expected. She would have to be happy with that. Luca was not in love with her. And she’d get over him in time. She would.
But she returned the handclasp with as much warmth as she had inside her. “It has been a pleasure getting to know you, Luca. And getting to know myself better. I owe you so much. I’m only sorry I don’t know how to repay you.”
She had fought him tooth and nail in the beginning. And then somehow he’d gotten under her skin and she’d let him see a side of her she’d never revealed to anyone before. And in trusting him, she’d fallen in love with him.
Dessert was over, and the last bit had felt like a goodbye. Mari moved to collect her handbag, but Luca put out a hand. “Where are you going?”
She looked up, confused. “Home? I thought dinner was over.”
Luca tugged on her arm gently, pulling her closer. “I’m not ready for it to end yet.”
With his free hand he reached out and flicked the ties on the drapes, closing them in a cocoon of velvet and candlelight.
“Luca…”
“I need to say something here.” He interrupted whatever it was she was going to say. “I’m sorry about yesterday morning, Mariella. I was unbearable and I have no excuse. I can only say that I meant well and realize now how it must have seemed to you.”
She would not cry. She wouldn’t spoil this beautiful evening with tears, no matter how angry or hurt she’d been only hours before. The moment he had kissed her cheeks tonight she’d known that yesterday morning hadn’t been real. He’d been putting on a show. A very effective one. His apology meant more than he knew.
