He stared at her. The dark eyes tortured, the unhappiness hurting her more than the relentless pounding in her head and in her heart. ‘But you deserve so much more than that. So much more than me.’

‘No.’ Her eyes filled. She didn’t want him to push her away like that. No one else could give her what he could. ‘I want you. That’s all. Just you.’

‘And I want you. But I don’t want to make you unhappy. And I have.’

She opened her mouth but he kept talking.

‘It’s all new to me. You know that—the whole big family thing. But I’ll try, if you want me to.’

She trembled and his hand quickly covered hers. ‘What made you change your mind?’

‘Nearly losing you today.’ His voice wavered again.

‘I got a bump on the head. I’m not about to die—’

‘If you had seen yourself, you wouldn’t say that.’

‘Lorenzo, I’m fine.’

‘Well, I’m not. I don’t think I’ll ever recover from seeing you crumple like that.’ He closed his eyes and bowed his head, both his hands firmly clasped around hers. ‘Can you be patient with me?’

‘Yes.’ She had him. Nothing else mattered. She didn’t need the grand gestures, the romantic flourishes. She just needed him.

He leaned across, kissed her tenderly on the lips. Not enough for her.

‘You’re staying in here tonight.’

‘No.’ She frowned. ‘I’m not.’

‘You are. Observation. You probably have concussion. You need to be monitored.’

‘I can be monitored at home. Rosanna will—’

‘Rosanna is away,’ Lorenzo said sharply. ‘I’ll wait with you today. Come back to pick you up in the morning. Unless—’ he breathed out ‘—you’d rather your parents did?’

‘I want you to.’

His hand cupped her face so gently. ‘I don’t deserve you.’

‘You do,’ she said, angry tears springing again. ‘Youdo.'

She would make him understand that—somehow. She loved him. But she couldn’t say it again—wouldn’t—because she didn’t want him to feel the pressure to say it in return. She didn’t know that he’d ever be able to say it. It didn’t matter. Her tortured warrior spoke with actions. And he was here. That was enough.

* * *

Twenty-four hours later Lorenzo finally went to do some work for a bit—having instructed her to phone down if she needed anything. He paused halfway down the stairs. Rosanna was on her way up, a sheaf of flowers across one arm.

She waggled her finger at him. ‘You don’t take my best friend home to your place and think you’re not getting me too.’

He laughed. ‘She’ll be pleased to see you. She’s bored and getting restless.’

‘I’ve got some magazines.’

His grin faded as she got closer. ‘You’re wearing her necklace.’ His throat went tight as he saw it.

She touched it. ‘Stunning, isn’t it? I bought it at the exhibition the other night. Made sure I did it as soon as I got there. I wanted her to have one “sold” sign really early on.’ She grinned. ‘Not that I needed to worry—she sold most of them in the first hour. But she was so nervous.’

He nodded. ‘I know.’ He should have thought to do that. That should have been him. But he’d been thinking too selfishly. ‘You’re a good friend to her.’