Even now, the roaring dimmed intermittently so he could listen out for her. Almost willing her to return to challenge and rile him. To scream at him for not protecting the sister she’d loved.
Is that the only reason you want her back in your presence?
He gritted his teeth and stabbed at his keyboard. There were clients clamouring for his attention. Even a message from his father via the old King’s personal aide, seeking an update on the situation. The last line enquiring when Valenti would return to Cartana drew a fresh vein of bitterness.
He’d meticulously arranged it so he would never be personally needed in any situation except where his father and brothers were concerned. He’d rigorously trained every operative in his organisation, selected only the best of the best so he remained emotionally aloof and objective.
With each day, month and year of success, his father had heaped praises on his head for choosing family above all else. Entirely oblivious or not caring that the hole that remained in his heart from never fully realising his true desires had never come within a whisker of being filled.
Did the old man even realise that Valenti had often wondered, especially recently since his father took a steep decline, if hehadbeen a doctor, if he hadn’t been split-focused between looking forward with duty and looking back on his dreams, whether he could have found a solution where others had failed?
Sí, an arrogant thought, perhaps, but he was a Domene. Conceit flowed through his veins faster than blood. And just as he knew his own name and the depth of his talent anddedication, he knew he would’ve excelled as a surgeon too, had he been free to choose.
He surged to his feet, the roiling having achieved its purpose and driven him partly mad. When the view of pristine snow mocked him, he growled.
Enough. It’d stopped snowing and—
The noise from upstairs jerked his head up. He was moving towards the door before he’d clocked the movement of his feet.
She was at the top of the stairs when he emerged. Her hair was tousled, her face soft and drowsy. Valenti searched her features for signs of further distress and tears. Then her eyes for the blame he fully expected. He found none but the constriction in his chest didn’t ease.
‘Halló,’ she muttered, and he wondered if she realised she’d spoken in her language.
‘Are you okay?’ he responded in the same tongue.
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. ‘Jà.’
It wasn’t relief pouring through him. He was merely doing what needed to be done with the circumstances they were faced with. He was practical if nothing else, after all, wasn’t he? He held out his hand. ‘Komdu.’
Again she hesitated, then slowly made her way down, her eyes searching his. ‘Is the truce still in place?’ she asked when she reached the final step. ‘Because I’m not in the mood for anything else.’
‘Indeed it is. And we can suspend the question-and-answer part of it too if you wish.’
Distress flashed in her eyes gone too quickly for him to decipher what exactly she found objectionable. Then she was nodding, her gaze drifting past his to the window. ‘I noticed it’s stopped snowing.’
He nodded. ‘Which is why I have a surprise you might find to your liking,’ he said, the idea flashing into being, then solidifying when he didn’t fight it.
Her eyes snapped back to his, brightening in a way that made air trap in his lungs. ‘Really?’
‘Sí. We’ll head out after lunch. Okay?’
‘Sure.’
He’d found the need to constantly feed her disconcerting at first, then like everything else with her in this unsettling atmosphere they hadn’t been able to avoid, he’d given in.
The need hammered through him as he took her hand in his. Her easy acquiescence rattled. Nothimpersonally. He just wished her a little more…animated. He took a minute longer than necessary rummaging through the fridge, then throwing a question at her.
That rattling he was sure was dramatic simply because they’d been under this roof for too long intensified when he turned to find her examining him like he was a newly discovered species she couldn’t quite work out. ‘Lotte?’
She jumped. ‘Jà?’
‘I asked you a question. Is pasta okay?’ he bit out, attempting to keep his unnerved state under his waning control.
She nodded abruptly. ‘Of course. Yes. I was…’
He waited for her to finish. But her plump lips merely pursed before she looked away.
Greatly vexed by the return of the discordant roar that replaced the rattle, he quickly put together their meal and set it down on the table.
