A mistake.
One she planned to rectify at the first opportunity.
CHAPTER SIX
LUCA LIFTED HIS wine glass from the table, took a long sip, and watched Annah shuffle a piece of stuffed artichoke from one side of her plate to the other with her fork.
She had turned up for dinner wearing no jewellery, no make-up, a trousers-and-top outfit all in black, and a ponytail that pulled her blonde hair back in a rather severe fashion.
Luca wondered if her stark appearance was a deliberate choice to reflect her mood.
Whatever her intent, the end result didn’t diminish her beauty.
It occurred to him that if his mother had bothered to make an appearance, she and Annah would have co-ordinated perfectly given that Eva Cavallari had worn nothing but black since her husband’s death.
The perfect mourning widow, Luca thought grimly. As meekly dutiful now as when her husband had been alive.
He pushed aside thoughts of his mother.
‘If you’re not going to eat,’ he said in a mild tone, ‘you might as well talk instead and tell me what’s wrong.’
She looked up, her blue eyes bright and hard as they connected with his. A dusky pink flared along her cheekbones and her lips grew slightly pursed.
Appreciation surged. Even when angry, she was lovely. His gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered, his mind conjuring other uses for those lush, delectable lips besides eating and talking.
‘I want to take Ethan home,’ she said abruptly, halting the carnal direction of his thoughts. ‘Tomorrow.’
He lifted his eyes back to hers. Put his wine glass down. He wasn’t entirely surprised. The deterioration in her mood as soon as they’d arrived at the villa had warned him something was wrong. ‘That’s not going to happen,’ he told her, keeping his voice level.
She dropped her fork on the plate with a clatter. ‘Are Ethan and I prisoners here, Luca? Was that your plan all along? To kidnap your son?’
Luca sat back, braced his palms on the table, and spoke softly. ‘I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.’
‘Why?’ She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘So you can avoid answering the question?’
He ground his teeth, summoning patience. ‘You and Ethan are not prisoners here. You are free to leave whenever you wish.’ He paused. ‘Is that what you want, Annah? To take my son away before I’ve had a chance to know him?’
She shook her head. ‘Oh, no. You don’t get to lay a guilt trip on me.’
Luca exhaled through his nose. ‘I’m not trying to. I want the same thing you do—what’s best for our son.’
Annah mirrored his pose, putting her hands on the table. But hers were clenched into white-knuckled fists. ‘I’m Ethan’s mother. It’s my job to know what’s best for him. To protect him.’
‘And you don’t think I take that same responsibility seriously?’
Her eyes held his and then dropped as if she didn’t want to acknowledge that he might actually have it in him to be a decent father.
The silence stretched. Frustration gnawed at him. ‘For God’s sake, Annah. Talk to me. We need to find some middle ground here. We can’t achieve that if you won’t communicate.’
Her eyes came back to his. Accusation flashed in their sapphire depths. ‘You told me it was safe here.’
Ah. Now they were getting somewhere.
‘You and Ethan are as safe here as you would be anywhere else,’ he assured her.
The look she threw him was a blistering mix of scorn and scepticism. ‘Safe because your home is protected by ten-foot walls, men with guns and vicious dogs—one of which could have taken Ethan’s hand off this afternoon?’
‘That was never going to happen.’
‘Is that why you shouted at him?’ Her voice filled with reproach. ‘You frightened him, Luca.’
Regret burrowed into his conscience. In hindsight, his reaction had been over the top and unnecessary. The dogs were well trained and only attacked on command. His guards would never allow a child to be hurt. He knew all this, yet in that split second when his son’s hand had reached towards the Doberman’s lethal jaws, he’d reacted not rationally but with the knee-jerk protectiveness of a parent. ‘I overreacted,’ he confessed. ‘Ethan was never in any danger.’
She shook her head, unconvinced. ‘I’m sorry, but this isn’t the kind of world I want Ethan exposed to.’
He set his jaw. ‘That’s not entirely your decision to make.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I’m his father—’
‘Who hasn’t been around for the first four years of his son’s life.’
‘Which is not my fault!’ he exploded.
Annah flinched and pulled her hands off the table. ‘It’s not mine, either,’ she whispered.
Luca ran his palm over his face and silently cursed his momentary loss of control. ‘I’m sorry. I should not have shouted.’
She pushed back her chair and stood. ‘I’m sorry, too. I’ve lost my appetite.’
She walked around the end of the formal dining table towards the door. Luca rose quickly and blocked her path. When she went to step around him, he put his hands on her upper arms to restrain her.
‘Our son is half-Sicilian,’ he said quietly, tilting his head to catch her eye. ‘Half-Cavallari. He belongs here, in my world, as much as he belongs with you in England.’
She twisted her face to the side, her eyes skating away from his. Because she knew he spoke the truth?
He trailed his gaze down the slender length of her neck.
The sudden thought of setting his mouth against her creamy flesh, sliding his tongue over the sensitive spot between neck and shoulder that he knew would make her body bow with pleasure, was so powerful his hands tightened reflexively on her biceps and drew her closer.
Her gaze snapped back to his and awareness arced in the air like a zap of electricity.
He wanted her. As desperately and urgently as he’d wanted her five years ago in London.
But he couldn’t afford to act on his urges. He needed her trust. Her co-operation. With or without it, he would claim his parental rights, but he’d rather not have to do so via an acrimonious custody battle.
Exerting as much self-control as he could muster, he settled for pressing a kiss to her temple.
He closed his eyes for a second. Her skin felt soft and warm against his lips and her subtle floral scent enveloped his senses. His nerve endings leapt. It was all he could do to set her away from him. He looked down at her. ‘Stay. Give me the week you promised. I’ll show you that your concerns are unfounded.’
He watched the delicate cords in her throat work.
Finally, she blew out a breath and nodded. ‘All right.’ She glanced at their unfinished meals. ‘I’m sorry about dinner, but it was an early start this morning with the wedding and I’m tired. And it’s Ethan’s first night in unfamiliar surroundings. If he wakes and finds me gone...’
Luca shoved his hands in his trouser pockets as she rattled off her excuses to escape his company. He shrugged. ‘Go. Rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Relief washed across her features. Without another word, she turned and fled the room. Luca watched her go, then glanced at the table. He too had lost his appetite for food. Too bad his other hunger hadn’t waned. Unfortunately, he knew only two solutions for that—satisfy it or kill it. Resigning himself to the latter, he headed to his room for a cold shower.
* * *
Coward.
The word echoed in Annah’s head as she hurried away from the formal dining room and ascended the sweeping staircase to the second floor, where her and Ethan’s suite of rooms was located.
She’d nursed her anger for a good two hours before dinner and then, when she’d finally had the opportunity to express it, to verbalise her feelings, her at
tempt had been feeble. Pathetic.
The trouble was, she had no experience dealing with conflict. She was an only child. Her mother hadn’t been around half the time when she was growing up. She had no siblings to argue with. When problems had arisen she’d faced them alone, internalising her emotions because she’d had no one to confide in.
At a young age, she had learned to be self-sufficient.
Since then, her business partnership with Chloe had taught her about teamwork, but she and Chloe shared a similar work ethic and rarely disagreed on anything. When they did, neither got angry and a civilised conversation over a glass of wine usually did the trick.
With a deep sigh, she pushed open the door to the bedroom that was so lovely she’d gasped the first time she’d walked into it. Pale sea-green walls, handcrafted furniture and a big bed covered in gorgeous, snowy linens had filled her with reluctant delight—as had the adjoining sitting room with its balcony overlooking the landscaped gardens, and the connected bedroom for Ethan that was slightly smaller but no less sumptuous.
She pulled up short at the sight of her suitcase open on the floor. Celeste turned around, a bundle of Annah’s underwear clutched in her hand.
‘What are you doing?’ Annah said.
‘Unpacking your things.’ The maid’s smile was tinged with disappointment. ‘I thought you would be gone longer. I wanted to have it done before you got back.’
Annah strode over and quickly relieved Celeste of the underwear items, most of which were old, faded pairs of plain cotton knickers. Her cheeks turned hot with embarrassment. ‘Thank you. But that’s not necessary.’ She was perfectly capable of unpacking her own bag and would have done so already had she not convinced herself that she and Ethan were going home tomorrow.
She frowned at the thought of how easily Luca had changed her mind.
One shiver-inducing brush of his lips against her temple and she’d turned into a weak-kneed pushover.
Blast him for being so hard to hate! Why couldn’t he be a horrible, despicable man like his father? Why did he have to make everything he asked of her sound so reasonable? Why couldn’t he be ugly and repulsive instead of mouth-wateringly gorgeous and drenched in sex appeal?
She stuffed her very unsexy knickers into a drawer, dismissed Celeste as nicely as she could, then kicked off her shoes and padded into Ethan’s room to check on him.
He was fast asleep, exactly as she’d left him, his tiny figure dwarfed by the enormous bed. The indentation in the quilt, where she’d fallen asleep beside him, was still visible. If she hadn’t dozed off, she would have had more time to prepare herself for dinner. As it was she’d had less than five minutes to make herself presentable.
Not that how she looked mattered. She had no need or desire to doll herself up for Luca.
Leaving the door between the bedrooms open, she slipped into her comfy PJs, brushed her teeth, crawled beneath the soft cotton sheets in the pretty sea-green room and stared up at the ceiling. She yawned, exhausted yet wired at the same time. It would probably take her hours to go to sleep, she thought glumly.
Within minutes, slumber claimed her.
* * *
Annah awoke to the sound of curtains and shutters being opened. A flood of bright sunlight pierced her eyelids, and she bolted upright and blinked.
‘Good morning!’
Celeste’s cheerful voice made her wince. She focused her eyes on the perky maid as she tucked a turquoise drape behind a gold filigree holdback.
‘What time is it?’ Annah asked.
‘Eight o’clock.’ Celeste turned, a look of concern crossing her face. ‘This is when you wanted your breakfast, sì?’
Annah shook off the groggy vestiges of sleep. ‘Yes,’ she said, vaguely recalling Celeste asking her the question yesterday. But she had planned to be up and dressed by now. Ethan was normally awake by seven. Her gaze flew to the connecting door between the bedrooms.
‘He is playing in the sitting room,’ Celeste said, guessing the direction of Annah’s thoughts.
Annah threw back the bedcovers. ‘I should get him washed and dressed.’
‘He has already done it,’ Celeste informed her, smiling broadly. ‘Mostly on his own, but I gave him a little help.’
‘Oh.’ Annah wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She was the only one who’d ever helped her son with his morning routine.
‘Your breakfast is in the sitting room,’ Celeste said. ‘I will come back in half an hour to see if there is anything else you need.’ She turned to go, then stopped and swung back, eyes wide. ‘Oh, and there is a note for you from Signor Cavallari! I left it with the breakfast things.’
The second Celeste was gone, Annah jumped out of bed, dragged a sweatshirt on over her PJs, and hurried through to the sitting room.
‘Mummy!’
Ethan dropped the magnetic drawing board he was playing with and launched himself at her.
‘Hey, kiddo.’ She hugged him tight, inhaling his lovely little-boy scent. ‘What are you drawing?’
He wriggled out of her hold, grabbed the board and held it up.
She smiled. ‘Is that a picture of Mister Pickles?’
He nodded. ‘I miss him.’
‘Me, too. But you know Chloe’s taking good care of him, right?’
‘Yeah.’ His face brightened. ‘Are we going to the beach today?’
She hesitated. ‘Maybe,’ she said, even as she thought of the note she’d yet to read and felt her heart sink. Why would Luca write her a note unless he wasn’t planning on seeing them today? To distract Ethan, she asked, ‘Have you eaten some breakfast?’
He informed her that Celeste had given him some fruit and toast. He went back to his drawing, and Annah sat at the sunny table in front of the French doors overlooking the gardens. The table was laden with fruit, yoghurt, pastries, toast and spreads, a glass jug filled with orange juice, and two silver carafes, one with coffee and one with tea. It was a crazy amount of food for an adult and a child. Annah hoped what they didn’t eat wouldn’t go to waste.
Spotting the small envelope propped against a floral china teacup, she plucked it off the table, took a deep breath, and pulled out the note.
Luca’s handwriting was large and bold.
Annah,
An urgent work matter has arisen that requires my attention. I apologise, but I cannot spend the day with you and Ethan as planned.
I will endeavour to return by early evening before he goes to bed. In the meantime, perhaps you can enjoy exploring the estate.
The staff are at your disposal.
Luca
She crumpled the note in her hand. Luca had promised their son a day at the beach and now she had to tell Ethan it wasn’t happening. Her stomach balled into a hard knot of disappointment. Luca had a lot to learn about parenting—like not making promises he couldn’t keep.
Her stomach growled and she picked up a pastry and sank her teeth into its delicious flakiness. Last night she’d fallen asleep surprisingly quickly, but then she’d awoken at some time after midnight, her empty stomach churning with a nameless anxiety.
At home, she would have risen, made herself a cup of hot milk and settled her mind by jotting down a to-do list for the next day.
Here, she didn’t even know where to find the kitchen. And what was the point of a to-do list when Celeste and the rest of the staff were unlikely to let her lift a finger?
She finished off her pastry, went to shower and dress and then broke the bad news to Ethan, assuring herself the pang of disappointment she felt was on her son’s behalf and not her own. If anything, the less time she had to spend with Luca, the better. Pretending she wasn’t attracted to him was exhausting. It made her want to surrender and that was crazy, dangerous thinking. Sleeping with her son’s father would only make their situation impossibly messy.
Eth
an was downcast for a few minutes after she told him, but he perked up when she suggested they go exploring. As they ventured out, his infectious enthusiasm lifted her mood. The grounds were vast, with dozens of winding paths leading in different directions. The landscaped gardens with their emerald-green lawns, ornamental hedges and neat rose bushes were beautiful, but Annah was even more enchanted by the less manicured areas, where the flowers and shrubs grew wild and you couldn’t quite tell where the path would lead you next. They spent some time at a pond counting giant goldfish, and later, as they made their way back to the villa, came across a massive swimming pool surrounded by towering palms and an inviting sundeck.
The only thing that marred the experience was the uncomfortable prickling sensation at the back of Annah’s neck that came and went throughout the morning. The guards and dogs may not have been visible, but she knew they were there, watching.
Not surprisingly, Celeste pounced the instant they got back to their rooms, as if she, like the guards, was lurking in the shadows, observing Annah and Ethan’s every move.
Had Luca instructed his staff to keep an eye on them?
She pushed the unsettling thought aside and responded to Celeste’s offer of lunch. ‘Just sandwiches, please,’ she told the girl, thinking of the ridiculous mountain of food at breakfast.
An hour later, watered and fed, she and Ethan sat on the balcony off the sitting room, reading a book together. The spring day had grown warm and she’d pushed the French doors open after finally getting rid of Celeste. She could have taken Ethan back to the gardens or the swimming pool, but up here she could relax, knowing they weren’t being watched.
When a knock sounded on the door, she stifled a groan.
Celeste was going to drive her nuts!
She read out loud the last few words of the story, slipped Ethan off her lap, and told him to go choose another book from his bedroom. She strode to the door. ‘Honestly, Celeste,’ she said, reaching for the knob, ‘we really don’t need any—’ Her voice halted the instant she opened the door and saw a woman who was not the maid. ‘Oh, I—I’m sorry,’ she stuttered. ‘I thought you were Celeste.’
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