CHAPTER TWELVE

F OR A LONG moment there was silence. Then Vito detached himself from Flora’s embrace. She winced as sensitive muscles released their grip on his body. He got up from the bed in one fluid athletic movement and went to the bathroom, presumably to deal with the protection.

It gave Flora a second to pull a cover over herself and pray that she hadn’t actually uttered those words out loud, that she’d just thought them in her head. But she could already feel the chill in the air, chasing across her skin. Trickling down her spine. There was no hint of inebriation left. She was stone-cold sober.

Vito reappeared, tying a towel around his waist. His face looked blank.

She’d said the words out loud.

Flora sat up, holding the sheet to her. ‘Vito—’ But he held up a hand, stopping her. She closed her mouth.

‘What did you just say?’

Flora bit her lip. She could say nothing and try to blame it on the sparkling wine and the moment, but everything in her resisted against it. She couldn’t hold it in.

‘I said I love you.’

He shook his head. ‘Why?’

Flora looked at him. ‘You want me to tell you why I love you?’ The thought of trying to articulate everything in her head and heart terrified her.

He looked frustrated. He ran a hand through already messed-up hair. ‘No, I mean... I don’t know. I mean, how ?’

‘I fell in love with you. I didn’t plan on it, Vito... I didn’t expect it.’

Now he sounded accusing. ‘I told you from the start what this was. I never promised anything more than just...this.’

‘I know,’ Flora said miserably, any faint hope that he might have greeted her declaration differently turning to dust.

‘What is this?’ he said. ‘Are you playing some sort of game? Now you’ve got your inheritance and you want to see if you can get more? A serious commitment?’

Flora went cold. She felt more exposed than she’d ever felt in her life. And she’d asked for this. She’d revelled in Vito actually seeing her, except he hadn’t seen her at all. The pain was immense.

She said, ‘Can you hand me a robe, please?’ She couldn’t conduct this conversation naked under a sheet with the touch of Vito’s hands still warm on her skin.

He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a robe, handing it to her. Flora pulled it on while trying not to expose her body. Ha! That horse and the entire herd had bolted a long time ago. She stood up from the bed, tightly belting the robe around her. The fact that Vito’s gaze dropped over her body and back up, sending frissons of awareness all over her skin, was like a betrayal now.

She folded her arms over her chest. ‘I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re still as cynical as you always were. And who’s to say that I’ll even collect my inheritance? That’s tainted money.’

‘Flora, that’s your money. You can’t not take it.’ And then he muttered, ‘You’ll probably hand it all over to a charity anyway.’

Flora pounced on that. ‘One minute ago you’re accusing me of being an opportunist and now you’re saying I’ll give it away. Which is it, Vito? Who am I really?’

He looked at her. ‘That’s just it. I don’t know.’

Flora looked at him as her insides knotted. She’d believed that he’d seen her. The worst thing was that Vito had an air of defeat about him. Resignation.

You do know me , she wanted to shout at him. Grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

But evidently she was the fool here because he was literally telling her that, even now, after all this time spent together, he still didn’t trust her.

And could she even blame him? She was a Gavia. And it was always going to come down to this.

Still, she seemed to have some instinct for self-flagellation because she heard herself saying, ‘It means nothing to you that I love you?’

His expression had turned to granite. He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

Flora needed to escape then, to go somewhere to lick her wounds and take a moment to assess how she could still be breathing. She backed away. ‘I should check Benji...we didn’t...when we came in. I’ll go back to my own room and tomorrow...’

‘We can talk in the morning.’

Mere minutes ago, Flora and this man had been so entwined they’d been one person. Now it couldn’t be more glaringly obvious that that had been just an illusion.

She turned, and somehow left the bedroom. Like an automaton, she went to check Benji, taking him out to the terrace for a few minutes and then back inside. She carried him to her bedroom and lay down on the bed, with him tucked against her body.

Vito stood for long moments at his window, as the faintest trails of dawn started to light the sky outside. He waited for a sense of relief to start spreading through him—the relief that always came when things ended with a lover. Whether it was after a night, or two nights, or a week. Because a week had always been his limit before. But not with Flora. It had been several weeks. How many? He wasn’t even sure. For some reason his brain wouldn’t function. It was stuck on a loop like a broken record, a loop of Flora’s declaration: ‘I love you.’

She didn’t love him. She couldn’t.

She’d told him: ‘Don’t worry, I would have to be the biggest idiot on the planet to trust you with my heart.’

The fact that he remembered those exact words wasn’t something Vito cared to think about now.

The notion that she could have somehow come to trust him enough to give him her heart was unthinkable to Vito. The thought that perhaps she’d seen something in him—something worth loving—made no sense to him. His life had been consumed with revenge and mining his hurt and pain to succeed. He’d lost anything in him worth loving when his parents had died.

But in the first moment of hearing those words, when his body had still been so deeply embedded in hers, he’d not reacted with rejection—he’d felt a blooming sense of warmth, as if he were melting from the inside out.

Her saying she loved him had been a shock, that was all. She’d caught him off guard.

It was as if his brain had just taken a second to catch up, to realise what she’d said. And then he’d felt Flora’s legs and arms around him, holding him, and he’d felt two very different impulses vying for supremacy— Stay, sink deeper, never let her go and Go, leave now, run.

So he’d run. He felt the tension thrumming through his body now. The urge to go. Put distance between them. Put distance between him and those words that even now felt as if they were living breathing things, whispering around him, making him remember what it had been like to bask in the unconditional love of his father and his mother. The feeling of security—that nothing would ever harm them, or their world.

But they had been harmed. And their world had exploded. And everything had been lost. So Vito would never trust that feeling again and he certainly wouldn’t succumb to it.

The next morning Flora felt gritty-eyed. She’d showered and changed into her own clothes, faded jeans and a shirt. Hair pulled back into a loose plait to try and tame it.

She felt numb inside. She’d done this. She’d hastened the demise of her and Vito’s relationship by revealing her feelings. But maybe it was for the best. She needed to get on with her life. Without Vito.

She went into the kitchen first and attended to Benji, giving him his food. She heard a sound and looked up but, heart thumping, discovered it was just Sofia, who told her that Vito was in the dining room having breakfast.

Then Flora blushed when she remembered the previous evening. ‘I’m sorry, I made dinner and left everything—’

The woman smiled and shook her head. ‘No problem, it’s nice to see the kitchen get some use.’ She winked at Flora, who smiled back weakly. The thought of seeing Vito was making her guts churn, but she steeled herself and went into the dining room.

He was taking a sip of coffee and reading something on his tablet. He looked up and Flora instantly felt as wan and tired as he looked fresh and rested. Clearly not remotely heartbroken. But she was determined not to expose herself any more than she already had. Forcing a bright smile, she sat down. ‘Good morning.’

‘Morning. Coffee?’ He held up the pot and Flora held out her cup, hoping her hand would stay steady. It did, as he poured her some of the fragrant drink. Small mercies. She took a fortifying sip.

Sofia came in with fresh fruit and pastries. Flora smiled at her. When she’d left Vito cleared his throat. Flora pretended putting together her granola, fruit and yoghurt was suddenly the most important thing she’d ever done in her life.

‘Flora.’

Damn. She looked up. Vito had put down the tablet. He looked...

Oh , no , the worst.

She saw pity on his face.

He said, ‘Look, last night—’

She put up a hand. ‘I don’t really want to discuss it. We said all that was needed. I’ll move out today and we can move on.’

‘You don’t have to move out.’

The thought of living here in some kind of torturous limbo with Vito made Flora shudder. ‘I do, but thank you.’

‘No, you really don’t. I’m going to New York today, within the hour, and then to London. I won’t be back for about ten days.’

Flora had just stuffed a mouthful of granola and fruit and yoghurt into her mouth. It might as well have been cardboard for all she tasted of it. She managed to swallow without choking.

Vito said, ‘I’m not just going to kick you out. You’ll have time to get settled again.’

She knew from past experience not to be too proud. ‘Thank you. I’ll be sorted by the time you get back.’

‘Will you contact the solicitor?’

Flora looked at him, the hurt at what he’d said last night still fresh. ‘You mean, instead of trying to lure you into a more serious commitment?’

Vito’s face flushed. ‘I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.’

The apology didn’t mollify her all that much. ‘But you’re still not entirely sure, are you?’

‘The only person I trust entirely is myself. I’m a loner, Flora. I never claimed to be anything different.’

Even now, Flora’s treacherous heart squeezed. This man had so much to give. And maybe he would one day, but not to her.

‘You are what you convince yourself you are, Vito. I’m surprised that you would limit yourself like that when you’ve had no problem breaking any other limits holding you back.’

Flora waited for his response—he was looking at her with such intensity—but then his phone rang and he glanced at the screen. She saw it too—the name Massimo Black— and her insides lurched. The dinner date. They were meant to be together.

Vito answered the phone and just said tersely, ‘Can I call you back in a few minutes?’

Black must have answered in the affirmative because Vito terminated the call and put his phone back down on the table. Flora blurted out, ‘I overheard you.’

Vito frowned at her. ‘Overheard what?’

‘Your conversation with Black in London. The night of the event in the art gallery. I heard him say to you that if we weren’t together he probably wouldn’t have agreed to do business with you. And I heard how you...didn’t tell him that it was only a temporary affair.’

Vito’s face flushed again. ‘You think I misled him.’

‘Not exactly...after all, we were together. I’m sure you saw no reason to assume we wouldn’t still be together until such time as a deal was done. And you never hid that you were intending on using us being seen together as a way to restore your reputation.’

Vito stood up and went to stand at the window with his hands in his pockets. His back to her. She let her eyes rove over his tall powerful form, very aware that this could be the last time. She said, ‘I don’t think you set out to deceive him, Vito.’

He turned around. ‘Still, I didn’t make it clear that we weren’t in a committed relationship.’

‘If you want me to, I’ll still come to London with you so he can see us together.’

But Vito shook his head. ‘No, I wouldn’t ask that of you. If Black won’t do business with me for myself then it’s better that the partnership ends now. It’s not as if we would have been together for much longer, anyway.’

Flora absorbed that little dagger to her heart. Now she knew for sure that this would be the last time she saw Vito. She stood up. ‘What I said last night, Vito—’

‘You don’t have to explain—’

‘I know,’ Flora said firmly, determined that he wouldn’t stop her from saying this. She knew it was just going to add to the hurt, but she needed him to know. ‘What I said last night I meant, Vito. I love you. I love the bones of you and the man you are, inside and out. You’re a good man. You deserve more than to be a loner and maybe you’ll find that some day with someone, because, for what it’s worth, I think you’d be an amazing father. I didn’t say I love you wanting anything in return. It comes with no conditions or strings. It’s just...love.’ Flora stopped. She’d already said too much. Vito was staring at her.

There was a long moment of silence and then he said, ‘You pay me a huge compliment, Flora. Especially after what I put you through. But I don’t...’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t say the same.’

Flora lifted her chin even though she wanted to crumple. ‘You don’t have to, Vito. You never led me on or promised anything. I just don’t want you to think that I said that to extract something from you. I would never do that.’

She bit her lip and then said, ‘I believed that you really saw me, in a way that no one has since my family died, but maybe it’s good to know that that was just an illusion. Because I know I won’t rest until I find someone who can really see me, all of me, and trust who I am. Goodbye, Vito.’

Flora left the room, quickly, before she lost her nerve. She went back to her room and stayed there until she was fairly certain he would have left, and then she emerged to an empty apartment, apart from Sofia and Benji, and set about getting through the rest of that day, and the next, and even though the future stretched out before her like a grey and lacklustre landscape she refused to let it bring her down. She would get through this. She’d been through worse, even if it didn’t feel like it right then.