He absorbed this, heard her pride and her pain, and surprised himself by asking, ‘You will miss her, I think?’
‘Of course I will miss her,’ she said instantly. ‘What about you? Do you have any siblings?’
There was a pause. ‘A brother,’ he said flatly and then forced himself to say it, to try to wrap his head around what he still couldn’t quite believe, even after this last long year. ‘He’s dead.’
‘Oh, Vito. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise—’
‘It’s okay,’ he said roughly and took another mouthful of wine. She was looking at him expectantly but he didn’t elaborate and she didn’t ask him to. And something about her consideration made him contemplate the unthinkable. Should he tell her that Alessandro had died, by his own hand? Should he share the unbearable weight of his brother’s suicide with her?
And then what?
Pain and the inevitable guilt lanced through his heart. Sit back and wait for the rush of meaningless sympathy? Because sympathy could be a double-edged sword. It could make the person expressing it feel as if they were especially close to you and Vito had chosen never to be close to anyone.
Did she sense his sudden unease? Was that why she began to fill the silence with a nervous rush of words and complete change of subject?
‘These are my sister’s clothes,’ she informed him chattily, gesturing towards the red-and-green skirt which had captured so much of his unwilling attention today. ‘She certainly won’t need them in Brisbane.’
Relieved to be distracted from the painful stab of his thoughts by such a delightful subject, Vito narrowed his eyes. ‘Hence the sudden and rather surprising transformation,’ he observed slowly.
‘Well, you were the one who suggested I smarten up before our trip here!’
‘So I did,’ he agreed. ‘I just wasn’t expecting something quite so…’
‘So what?’ she questioned, sounding even more defensive now. ‘Go on, Vito—you can speak freely.’
‘Dramatic,’ he concluded.
‘I don’t know what that actually means. Is it a euphemism for me looking like mutton dressed up as lamb?’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘Excuse me?’
‘A woman who’s wearing clothes which are too young for her,’ she explained, self-consciously tucking one glossy wave of hair behind her ear. ‘You strike me as a man of the world—’
‘Is that what you think of me?’ he said mockingly.
She shrugged. ‘Kind of. So if you think my outfit is too revealing, or I’m too old to carry off a skirt like this, it might be helpful to know.’
Aware that he was now entering dangerous territory, Vito didn’t answer immediately, because a woman who was seeking reassurance was often seeking something else. But suddenly he found himself wanting to wipe all that doubt and uncertainty from her lovely face. ‘I think you look hot,’ he informed her frankly.
‘Hot?’ she questioned in alarm.
Had something been lost in translation? he wondered. ‘Like a young woman in the very bloom of her life,’ he elaborated, seeing her look of surprise. ‘Which makes me wonder why you usually dress as if you’re trying to hide from something,’ he concluded softly.
Something? Flora thought dazedly. Or someone? Still reeling from his lavish praise, she considered his question. She wanted to tell him it was none of his business—which was true—but the reason she was reluctant to answer was more damning than that. She remembered the way Liam had rounded on her, had called her frigid and unimaginative, and no way was she admitting tothat.
‘I had a bad experience,’ she said evasively.
‘A man?’ he guessed.
Flora nodded, and something about the perception gleaming from his eyes made her ask tentatively. ‘How did you guess?’
‘It’s not exactly rocket science,’ he said bitterly. ‘Men and women have a habit of trying to destroy each other.’
Perhaps it was the bleakness in his voice which made Flora realise he wasn’t entirely immune to pain himself. Was that why she started to confide in him—Vito Monticello, of all people? ‘He kind of wrecked my confidence when I said I didn’t want to marry him,’ she said slowly.
‘You shouldn’t have let him have that power over you,’ he observed.
‘You think?’ Flora gave a short laugh. ‘Sometimes that’s easier said than done. I’m not much of a game-player,’ she admitted. ‘So I decided that life was easier without the complications of men and I got into the habit of dressing in such a way that made it clear I wasn’t putting myself out there.’
