He had his back to her so didn’t see the way consternation strained her features.
“No, I know.” Her voice though was a little unsteady. He looked over one shoulder, but she’d turned to the Christmas tree where she was neatening the tinsel.
“Bene, do not complicate a simple invitation. Come to Villa Fortune; eat, drink, be merry with my family and then I will take you wherever you want. Okay?”
He couldn’t say why, but Gabe found he was holding his breath, waiting for her to agree. He stood perfectly still, waiting, one hand pumped into a fist at his side.
“Well, I can’t exactly stay here once you’re gone,” she said quietly. “And you should go be with your family right away. You should have left this morning.”
Yes, he should have. It had been the first thing he’d thought of when he’d woken, and he’d checked the helicopter with that in mind. But then one thing had led to another and he’d been hesitant to walk away from her. He supposed he still was – why else would he suggest this? It was, in many ways, ill-conceived. His family spent their lives on Gabe-watch, permanently worried about him, analysing his moods, interfering in his life, miserable at his state of perceived loneliness despite the fact he was exactly how and where he wanted to be.
He was torn between manoeuvring her into fitting in with his suggestion and facilitating her wishes. With a slow exhalation of breath, he turned to face Isabella.
“Would you prefer to go to Florence straight away?”
She bit down on her lip. “Do you really think I’d struggle to get accommodation?”
He thought of the apartment his family owned in that city – a plush penthouse near the duomo – somewhere she’d be more than welcome to stay until her flight. Ashamed of his instincts, he nodded. “The hotels would be booked. But you could try.”
Her face was impossible to read; he didn’t know what she was thinking and frustration nipped at him. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll see what’s available online.”
His gut clenched. He wanted to fight that decision with everything he was. He hadn’t expected her to opt for that. Pride held him silent though. Gabe Montebello was not a man to beg, and begging Isabella for a little more time felt like the wrong hill to die on. After all, her departure was imminent and necessary. This was a snatch of something out of time, but she would leave, and his life would resume its usual rhythms.
Gabe looked toward the window with a frown.
His usual rhythms?
Something like frustration rolled over his central nervous system. The last seven years felt as though he’d been living in black and white. Everything was dark and monochromatic, and largely silent, too, as though he’d been living in a Charlie Chaplin film but without the slapstick comedy. He couldn’t pinpoint when that had changed, but in the last few days, everything was bright again. The world was a multi-coloured orb and he a part of it. He couldn’t pinpoint when but he knew why.
Isabella.
Her head was bent, her finger zipping over the screen of the phone, a frown on her face.
Something worrying like uncharacteristic nervousness flittered through him as he strode towards her, his hands catching her wrists and separating them, drawing the phone towards the kitchen bench.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
His smile was instinctive. “To my home. Come, meet my family, stay a couple of nights.”
“It’s too complicated.”
He lifted a single brow. “Why?”
“Because –,” she shrugged.
He wanted to ride roughshod over whatever she had to say but in yet another uncharacteristic behaviour, he was silent: waiting, watchful.
Her sigh tickled his throat. “Gabe, you’re –,”
More waiting.
Another sigh.
Her hand lifted and curled in his shirt. “Is that really what you want?”
That he could answer without missing a beat. “Si, Isabella. Or believe me, I would not have made the offer.”
His helicopter was the last word in luxury – all sleek, modern and expensive looking, with white leather seats, wood grain details and darkly tinted windows. She sat in the front with him, the buckle fitted between her legs making her conscious of him the entire flight. Or perhaps that was the way he expertly navigated the helicopter, his tanned fingers spinning dials and flicking buttons, his concentration fierce at take-off then relaxed as he tracked them south, the movement and direction obviously innately familiar to him, as though he did this trip often.
“I have no idea what to do about my car,” she said into the headset as they took off, her eyes peering through the window, trying to see a remnant of the vehicle to no avail.
“I’ll have my staff retrieve it and deal with the hire car company. They can send your luggage to your preferred forwarding address.”
Surprise had her brows lifting. “Gosh, this hotel really offers five-star service...”
He bared his teeth in a swift grin. “Nothing but the best for guests at Il Nido.”
“Even the unwanted ones.”
“You were never unwanted.”
Her heart stammered and doubts plagued her, regret already forming that she’d agreed to join him at Villa Fortune. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she did, with – she feared – all her heart. Was it possible that desire for Gabe was morphing into something else? Something much, much more dangerous, because it was an impossible reality? Falling for him in anyway outside of the narrow parameters they’d established would be foolish in the extreme. She couldn’t do it.
She wouldn’t.
Used to being pushed away, she would never let Gabe become another person she’d loved who’d let her down. It would taint everything they’d shared. Developing feelings for him would ruin everything, even her memories. She smiled in an attempt to push the dangerous and dark thoughts from her mind.
“How far is it?”
“Only forty minutes or so.”
In fact, it took less – a half hour later, the helicopter was descending over a stunning, verdant vineyard, rolling lanes of vines running down a hill and towards
