Page 33 of Cinderella's Fling with the Off-Limits Billionaire

“Erm, that’s definitely not going to happen. I actually hate it when people look at my body.”

“Really?”

“Well, not you,” she conceded, smiling.

“Is that because of him?” Leandro asked, his tone serious now.

Her eyes widened.

“Or have you always been that way?”

She thought about that. “No, actually. I guess it’s because of Jay. He was super jealous, and hated it when guys noticed me, so I started to dress down as much as I could. I guess I still do.”

“Only an insecure ass would be threatened by your bagliore.”

“My what now?”

“Bagliore. It means,” he sought the word, and she was surprised, because his English was so flawless. “Your sparkle,” he said, and her heart did something funny and unfamiliar, lurching strangely inside her chest.

“My bagliore.” Her voice was raw. “I like that.”

“You sparkle with the force of a thousand suns. He must have been so threatened by that.” Leandro used his spare hand to cup her other cheek and angled her face upwards. “You should be with someone who wants to enjoy your reflected light, not cover it up.”

“I guess I reached the same conclusion. Not about my bagliore,” she hasted to add, “but about him not being good for me. It’s a strange thing to feel yourself growing small. No,” she corrected. “It’s strange to realise you’re making yourself small, to suit someone else.”

“What did your parents think?”

“They were worried. But at the same time, they thought I was happy. So much of the time, I was faking it, trying to fool everyone that I was.”

“Friends?”

She glanced away. “He somehow separated me from my friends. I wasn’t even aware of it happening.”

Leandro stroked her cheek gently.

“I feel like you have this magic key that unlocks secrets I’ve never told another soul, and yet you don’t tell me anything.”

His frown was infinitesimal, and he suppressed it quickly. “I can’t talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to. Not with you.”

Hurt seared her. Hurt that she’d trusted him so much, that he’d encouraged that. Hurt that she’d leaned on him in a crisis. And that he didn’t trust her enough to share his story with her.

“Not with anyone. I’m still…working it out.”

“Why can’t I help you?” Her eyes were beseeching. “I can’t do all this,” she gestured to the table at which they’d sat with the lawyers. “I don’t have money, or expertise, but I can listen. I’m really good at that.”

He winced. “This isn’t about you.” His voice was gentle. “If I tell you, it will be here,” he gestured from his chest to hers. “It will mean our relationship stops being an escape, and I just want to escape a while longer.”

She tried to ignore the tenderness in the centre of her chest.

“When I go back to Italy, I will face the music. For now, if you want to help, keep helping me to forget.”

No, she wanted to scream. That wasn’t okay. It wasn’t good enough. She wanted him to let her in. She wanted to understand all of him. It lodged like a stone in her throat to imagine that he’d be out of her life in a matter of days, and she’d not ever know this facet of him. That he would have helped her so generously and she wouldn’t have been able to do the same for him.

Then again, maybe he was right, and letting him just enjoy this was the best way to help him? It seemed a lot like running away to Skye, and from what she knew of Leandro that surprised her, but who was she to argue?

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