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‘She was lucky,’ he said, reaching across and putting his hand on Charlotte’s, offering a comfort she strangely really did need.

Charlotte stared back at him and it was like a huge hole had opened up right beneath her. She was in free-fall, with nothing to grab hold of.

‘Dante...’ she said, softly, slowly. This was too much. It was all too much.

‘To fake engagements,’ he said, reaching for his champagne and lifting it towards hers. He was trying to reassure her, she recognised. To underscore the thing they’d agreed to all along. But it did nothing of the sort, because Charlotte couldfeelthe contradiction in that. This week she’d started to feel that no matter how hard they tried, it was almost impossible to fight the fact that their relationship had some elements to it that were very, very real. In fact...almost all of it was.

She needed to pull herself back from the brink, because she was on a surefire path to heart-break central, if she wasn’t careful. And Charlotte was always very careful.

She could think of one way to douse these romance flames in ice cold water, though she didn’t relish the prospect of what she was about to do.

‘So, the other day,’ she began, reaching for her champagne and taking a sip for good measure. ‘When you were telling me about Jamie...’

She’d expected his whole demeanour to change, like it had in the past whenever mention had been made of his marriage, or divorce. The only change though was a slightly resigned expression that crossed his features.

‘I thought you would have more questions, in time.’

She lifted her brows. ‘And that’s okay with you?’

‘I decided to tell you about us, Charlotte,’ he murmured, with no idea how his casual use of the word ‘us’ to describe his marriage to another woman cut through all her insulation and shielding. ‘I presumed that wouldn’t be the end of it.’

‘Oh.’

‘So,’ he asked, casually now, like he was okay with all of this. ‘What did you want to ask?’

She massaged her lower lip with her teeth. ‘I guess, I’m wondering how she is now. Do you ever talk to her?’

He rubbed a hand over his jaw. ‘I spoke to her about a week ago.’

Something sharpened inside of Charlotte. ‘You did?’

‘Sure.’

‘Okay. It’s just—you say that like it’s normal, to be on those kinds of terms with your ex. A lot of people aren’t.’

‘Our marriage didn’t end because we stopped caring for one another. We just couldn’t be together.’

Charlotte moved one hand beneath the table, so she could fumble with her fingers in her lap, away from his perceptive gaze. ‘I see.’ And she did. Everything about Dante suddenly made so much sense. She’d known he was still hung up on his ex, in some ways, but she hadn’t realised the extent of how much he loved her.

‘I called to tell her about our engagement,’ he said, gent-ly. ‘I didn’t want to risk that she might hear of it from someone else.’

Charlotte’s heart twisted. That was very fair and very chivalrous. And completely like Dante. ‘Did she take the news okay?’

He hesitated a moment and then nodded. ‘As well as could be expected.’

‘Is she seeing anyone else?’

‘Not at the moment.’

Charlotte thought about that. ‘You told me that you intended to leave your fortune to her and any children she might have.’

He nodded, as if her question wasn’t implied.

‘She doesn’t have children?’

‘No.’

‘So...’