Page 19 of The Italian's Marriage Bargain

She swallowed hard, taking a moment to sip her water before carrying on. ‘There really wasn’t much they could do for him. We tried everywhere, but each time the answer was the same: enjoy what time he’s got. Then I found out about this treatment in America—but, like I said, it was never about curing him.’

‘This is why your father sold the resort?’

Felicity nodded, but, registering the guilt flickering across his face, she knew more needed to be said. ‘You weren’t to know, Luca,’ she said softly.

‘Maybe, but the truth is it never felt right. When it came on the market Matthew brought it to my attention. He was an assistant manager at my Melbourne hotel, and when he first suggested I look at it I had this idea that business clients who were staying for a few weeks in Australia could go there at weekends—have a bit of a break from a formal hotel, take in some golf and tennis. It was just a germ of an idea, I wasn’t even really sure I wanted to take on the resort, so I put in a ridiculously low offer—expecting, of course, some negotiation—but when my first offer was accepted, naturally I went ahead.’

‘It was business.’ There was no bitterness in her voice now, just a weary acceptance of the facts. ‘Dad should have held out for more, but he was desperate to free up some money. It had been on the market for months without a single offer.’

‘If only I’d known.’

Felicity shook her head. ‘You’re a businessman, Luca, not a charity. You did nothing wrong—I can see that now.’ She was speaking the truth. The benefit of hindsight, hearing Luca’s take on things, watching the way he ran his business, had cleared up so many of her misgivings. ‘Anyway, Joseph went to America with his girlfriend and had the treatment, and when he came back we barely recognised him.’

‘He was worse?’

‘Oh, no.’ He watched a smile break over her face like the morning sun rising above the mountains in his beloved village, and he found himself smiling back as she spoke. ‘It was like getting him back. He went to America so weak and ill, a shadow of the man we all loved, but when he came back… Oh, Luca, he’d put on weight and he had this energy, this vitality, this thirst for life. It was so wonderful to see. Dad was right to sell; it was worth every last cent to get Joseph back for a while. He used every moment, lived each day as if it was his last. Kate, his girlfriend, took him to Paris…’

He watched the smile fade from her face and ached to put his arms around her, to somehow shield her from the pain to come. But a deeper instinct told him to wait and he sat quietly, holding her hand as she told her story and the plane sliced through the night sky, trapped in their own time capsule, happy to escape from the world awhile.

‘Kate had to get back to work. It was supposed to be a short holiday, but Joseph got it into his head he wanted to see Rome. He was very artistic.’

‘Are you?’

Felicity gave a soft laugh. ‘Not in the slightest. I wish I was, but even with the best will in the world “artistic” isn’t a word that would describe me.’

‘Doesn’t matter. Perhaps you’re more…’ Smiling, he shook his head, willing the word that would describe her to come to him. But somewhere high over the hot red earth of central Australia everything stilled for a second, and the low hum of the engines was the only sound as he realised his lack of eloquence had nothing to do with the language barrier that sometimes thwarted him, and everything to do with Felicity. Nothing about her could be summed up in a single word; nothing about her could be relegated to a single sentence.

‘You’re just you,’ he finished lamely. ‘So—you came to Roma with Joseph?’

Felicity nodded. ‘It was wonderful. We visited the galleries, the Colosseum, the Vatican.’ Her eyes shone as she spoke. ‘We sat out on the pavements drinking coffee…’

Luca gave a tight smile. ‘It might be a bit cold for that at the moment. What else did you do?’

‘All the touristy things—ate gelato, threw coins in the Trevi Fountain.’ Her smile faded, pain clouding her eyes as she carried on talking. ‘Joseph wouldn’t throw one in. Our guide said that if you throw in a coin…’

‘You will return to the eternal city,’ Luca finished softly.

‘Joseph said it was a wasted wish.’

‘But you obviously did?’ Luca smiled.

‘I threw in three. The guide said, “One to return, two to marry an Italian…’” A blush crept up her cheeks and she shook her head in bewilderment, the innocent gesture taking on an entirely new slant now. “‘Three to live happily ever after.’”

Luca gave a low laugh. ‘There are many different versions of the legend. The one my mother always told us was “one to return, two to marry, three for a divorce.’”

He always did that, Felicity thought with a pang of clarity. Every step forward that they took together Luca instantly depleted with two rapid steps back. Every glimmer of intimacy was shrouded by their inevitable departure—almost as if he’d changed his mind midway, as if suddenly she bored him.

‘What happened then?’

She dragged her mind back, forced herself to the conversation, but the see-saw of emotions he provoked was too much for her now, his thoughtless comments, his deliberate withdrawal shattering any bridges they might have built.

‘He died, Luca.’ Retrieving the menu, she ran her eyes down it, painfully aware of his bemused eyes scorching into her cheeks. ‘That’s all you need to know.’

‘Once we get there you will feel better.’ His attempt to comfort her had an almost patronising ring, and Felicity bit back a smart reply as he carried on assuredly. ‘When we arrive in Rome my driver will collect us and take us to my village. Everyone is very excited to meet you.’

‘You’ve got two sisters and two brothers?’ Felicity checked, glad of the change of subject and doing a quick mental calculation to work out the size of the entourage that would surely greet them.

‘And their children, of course. And then there will be my cousins and aunts and uncles.’ He managed a nervous swallow before continuing. ‘And I think my mother has invited a few family friends.’

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