Artie turned away as he told his employee to come and collect her for the journey back to Umbria. There was nothing in his tone to suggest he was shattered by her decision to leave him. He was angry, yes, but not devastated. Not as devastated as she was feeling. But how could he be? He didn’t love her, so why would he feel anything but anger that she was pulling out of their agreement? His plans had been disrupted. His heart was unaffected.
Luca slipped the phone back in his pocket, his expression set in cold, emotionless lines. ‘Done. Emilio will be here in five minutes.’
Artie moistened her parchment-dry lips again. Was this really happening? He was letting her go without a fight? It validated her decision to leave now, before she got even more invested in their relationship. But how much more invested could she be than what she was now? She loved him with her entire being and yet he felt nothing more for her than he would for a pet or a pot plant. He cared about her. That wasn’t enough for her. It would never be enough. ‘Thank you. I’d better go and pack a few things.’ She turned for the door, waiting, hoping for him to call her back. She even slowed her steps, giving him plenty of time to do so. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Four…
‘Artie.’
Her heart lifted like a helium balloon and she spun around. Had he changed his mind? Would he beg her to rethink her decision?
Oh, please, beg me to stay. Tell me you love me.
‘Yes?’
His expression was mask-like but his throat rose and fell over a tight swallow. ‘Keep safe.’ His tone was gruff.
An ache pressed down on her chest, an avalanche of emotion that made it impossible for her to take a breath. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She. Would. Not. Cry. Not now. She would not make herself look any more gauche and desperate. She would take a dignified stance. She would take a leaf from his relationship playbook—she would be cool and calm and collected, detached. Their business deal was over and she would move on. End of story. ‘You too. And thanks for…everything.’ She pulled the heirloom engagement ring off her finger as well as the wedding band and held them out to him. ‘You’d better take the rings back. The earrings and pendant are upstairs. I’ll leave them on the dressing table.’
‘Keep them.’
‘But they’re family heirlooms—’
‘I said, keep them.’ The words were bitten out through a paper-thin slit between his lips, a savage frown pleating his brow.
Artie put the rings on one of the side tables and then turned and walked out of the room, closing the door softly but firmly behind her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
AS SOON AS the car carrying her away disappeared from sight Luca sucked in a breath that tore at his throat like wolf claws. What did she expect him to do? Run after her and beg her to stay? He had told her the terms from the outset. He had made it clear where his boundaries were.
But you shifted the boundaries. You slept with her.
He dragged a hand down his face, his gut clenching with self-disgust. Yes, he had shifted the boundaries and he should have known better. Artie was so young and inexperienced, and sleeping with him had made things so much worse. It had fuelled her romantic fantasies about him, fantasies he could never live up to. But he hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d wanted her the moment he met her, maybe even before that.
She was light and he was darkness.
She was naïve and trusting and he was ruthless and cynical.
She was in touch with her emotions and he had none…well, none that he wanted to acknowledge. Emotions were not his currency. It was a language he didn’t speak and nor did he want any fluency in it.
Luca picked up the engagement and wedding rings from the side table, curling his fingers around them so he didn’t have to look at the mocking, accusing eyes of the diamonds. He rattled them in his hand like dice and tossed them back on the table, turning away with an expletive.
He was not going to go after her. He. Was. Not. He was not going after her. His old self would have run up the stairs even before she packed and got down on bended knee and begged her to stay.
But he was not that reckless teenage boy any more. He was able to regulate his reactions, to think logically and carefully about his actions. He was able to weigh the checks and balances and act accordingly…except when it came to making love with her. That had been reckless and ill-advised and yet he had done it anyway. Done it and enjoyed every pulse-racing second of it. Artie had got to him in a way no one else ever had.
He felt different.
Something inside him had changed and he wasn’t sure he could dial it back. But he was damn well going to try.
* * *
Artie spent the first month back at Castello Mireille vainly waiting for the phone to ring. She longed to hear Luca’s voice, she longed to feel his touch, to be in his arms again. She was suffering terrible withdrawal symptoms, missing the stroke and glide of his body within hers, the passionate press of his lips on her mouth, her breasts and her body. She reached for him in the middle of the night, her heart sinking when she found the other side of the bed cold and empty.
She realised with a sickening jolt that this was what her father had gone through after the accident. He had grieved both physically and emotionally for her mother. The loss of an intimate partner was felt on so many levels, little stabs and arrows every time you were reminded of the person, every time a memory was triggered by sight, sound, taste, touch or
