But somehow, he couldn’t seem to make himself walk away. Even now, he couldn’t make the clean break that would take him back to being the man he wanted to be, instead of the broken boy.
He grasped Tallulah’s upper arm—acting on impulse now—and walked past her mother and the others. The varying levels of surprise and shock on their faces was nothing compared to the guilt he saw shadowing Tallulah’s face…no,Tali’sface.
‘We need to talk,’ he said, grinding out the words past the fury and pain as he escorted her into the house. ‘About why you lied to me,Tali.’
‘Dario, stop, you’re scaring me…’ Tali tried to dig her heels into the carpet as Dario marched through the house, past the salon, where the crew of decorators had already set up. Down the hallway, then up the main staircase.
She had to jog to keep up with his long strides, the limp not slowing him down much.
She hadn’t expected him to even remember her mum, had convinced herself he’d forgotten them both. Because he’d never mentioned it…
But what should have pleased her, had devastation welling in her chest. Because she had seen the devastation on his face when he’d recognised her mother…and then her.
He hauled her into the library, slammed the door behind them, then grasped her other arm to force her face to his.
‘You lied to me,’ he said, the tone of his voice vibrating with anger, but beneath it she could hear the panic. ‘You let me marry you, let me come to rely on you, let me fuck you like my life depended on it…without ever telling me who you really were.’
She struggled out of his hold, clasping her hands over the place where his fingers had dug in, her whole body shaking with all the emotions bombarding her at once—shock, panic and anguish at his visceral reaction to discovering her identity, but topping them all was confusion.
What had she done that was so terrible? So unforgiveable?
But one thing she did know was that she hadn’t lied to him.
‘You never asked,’ she said. ‘I—I thought you’d forgotten all about me… If you must know, I was embarrassed to remind you, because it made me realise that while our friendship back then had been so important to me, it never had been to you.’
She’d loved being with him that summer. Because she’d been lonely, too. Her father had disappeared that spring, she’d had to leave all her friends behind in Dorset to live at Westwick, and every night for weeks she’d listened to her mum’s wrenching sobs through the bedroom wall, not knowing what to do to make her happy again.
But then she’d discovered Dario. And every time she had made that surly boy smile, even laugh, it had felt like she had achieved a miracle. And it had helped to convince her, long after he’d gone back to boarding school, that she’d be able to fix not just her mother’s sadness, but that somehow she might have fixed him, too.
He swore, in both English and Italian, then turned away from her to march to the tall, mullioned window which looked out onto the grounds.
He growled something else in Italian…the words thick with anger. But she grasped the meaning. He was accusing her of deceiving him. Of knowing who he was, of knowing all about his dysfunctional relationship with his father, because she’d witnessed it, and pretending not to know.
‘What exactly was I tricking you into doing, Dario?’ she asked, her voice shaking as she approached him, knowing she had to find the courage to confront him—and to stand up for herself. Because she wasn’t the only one who had wanted to change the terms of their arrangement.
Perhaps she was a naïve idiot to have fallen in love with him. And yes, maybe thatwasbecause she had known the damaged, victimised boy, as well as the man he had made himself become. But why was he so upset that she’d been able to see past the ruthless, controlled autocrat to the caring, tender, protective, possessive man he could be…if he had ever allowed himself to need her the way she needed him.
She hadn’t tricked him—not intentionally. Becausehewas the one who had always held all the power in this relationship. Andshewas the one who had fallen hopelessly in love. Yet she hadneverdemanded more from him than he was willing to give her, because in some neglected part of her heart, she’d convinced herself she didn’t have the right to ask.
Yes, she should have told him who she was, but the reason she hadn’t was she had been scared he would look at her with the same blank expression on his face her father had given her the last time she’d seen him, before he’d walked out on her and her mother.
But whose fault was it really that she loved Dario so much now, when he had never even attempted to disguise his desire for her? Not once.
When he swung back round, his gaze was harsh, fierce, still furious.
‘You tricked me into caring about you. Into needing you. More than I should. Much more than I ever wanted to.’ He glanced around the library, then swore again. ‘Dio, I even considered keeping this estate that I hate, just so I could keep you…’
He spat the words at her, as if that was the greatest insult of all. And worse, as if she had been angling for that all along…as if the feelings she had tried so hard not to burden him with had been nothing more than a scheme to make him keep Westwick.
Her eyes burned with all the tears she’d never shed for that little girl, who had wanted her daddy to love her but had never understood why he couldn’t. And the grown woman who had wanted to tell this man that she cared for him deeply, that she wanted more than a fake marriage but had been scared of asking too much of him, too soon.
How had she allowed herself to be so vulnerable?Again.
‘I didn’t trick you…’ she said, the tears scalding her throat now as she fought like hell to hold them back. She wouldn’t cry—she wouldn’tlethim make her cry. ‘Do you really think I care about Westwick or my job more than I care about you? About us?’
He reared back as if she’d slapped him. The flash of panic and fear in his eyes only confirmed what he’d already told her though. He didn’twanther to care about him. Which only made it so much harder to admit that she always had.
‘I did not ask that of you. Nor do I require it.’
