Page 39 of The Sicilian’s Deal For 'I Do'

His brows flexed. ‘My mother was not given to lavish praise,’ he said with a hint of humour that Mia took for deflection. How that must have hurt a young boy who’d worked so hard to impress her.

‘You play beautifully,’ she said. Surely he knew that. He didn’t need Mia to tell him. But it was possible Luca had never been told before, and she couldn’t bear the thought of that.

It was such a strange thought, a silly aberration. As if Luca lacked self-esteem! He was naturally the best and the brightest, a king amongst men, the kind of person who could walk into any room and take control. He didn’t need Mia praising his piano-playing abilities, of all things.

‘How old were you when she died?’ Mia prompted. In the past, he’d evaded her questions, but tonight, he’d come to her, acknowledging that he needed help, and something vital had shifted between them. Mia didn’t understand it, but she felt the rhythms of their relationship shift and wasn’t afraid this time that he might not answer.

He pressed his fingers to the keys; the noise now a little jarring. ‘Twelve.’

She shook her head sadly. ‘Still just a boy.’

‘I didn’t feel it.’ He put a hand on her thigh, staring down at his tanned fingers against the silk fabric of the dress he’d bought her. ‘She died and I was alone. I’d known, all my life, that my father wasn’t a part of our life. He didn’t want me. He didn’t want her.’ His jaw tightened.

‘And had she wanted him?’ Mia pushed softly.

‘She never really spoke about their relationship.’ Then, a heavy, angry exhalation of breath. ‘But yes. She was in love with him. Even after the way he treated her, she loved him—I could tell. And I hated her for that, but I hated him more.’

‘Why would you hate her?’ Mia pushed, surprised.

‘What a weakness! To love and want a person who rejected you as he had her. I hated the power she gave to him, the way she worshipped him even when he’d thrown her life into such abject poverty.’

‘When he’d refused to acknowledge you,’ Mia murmured, because naturally a child would take that view, would feel hurt and rejected, and would want their mother to share that viewpoint.

‘I never knew him. But she did. She knew and loved him and pined for him. She let him ruin her life. I saw how vulnerable and weak that love made her.’

‘And swore you’d never be in that position,’ she murmured, feeling as though a door had opened, showing her a side of Luca that was important and vital, a door that helped her understand who he was.

His eyes seemed to pierce Mia’s soul. ‘No one should be in that position.’

Her lips tilted to the side. ‘Your mother was unlucky to fall in love with someone who didn’t love her back.’ Something clanged inside Mia. A realisation, or a slow-spreading dawn, but she couldn’t quite see her way to understanding it. She knew only that something was shifting, that she was shifting and changing.

‘Tell me about your father.’ She pressed her fingers to the keys lightly, her lips bending into a half-smile. ‘You don’t talk about him at all.’

‘No.’ His Adam’s apple shifted.

‘Why not?’

‘My mother had an expression. If you cannot say anything nice—’

‘Don’t say anything at all.’ She moved her hand to his, lacing their fingers together. The music in the background was slow, gentle. It threaded through Mia, pulling at her emotions. ‘Is there nothing nice you can say about him?’

‘He’s a competent businessman.’

She arched a brow, her smile involuntary, softened with disbelief. ‘Competent?’

‘Not brilliant.’

‘Not brilliant like you?’

Luca’s nostrils flared. ‘Perhaps not as motivated as I am. Being born into immense wealth has that effect on people, in my experience.’

‘Your brother?’

Luca considered that. ‘Max is different. We are half-brothers, but so alike, though he feels more of a connection to the Stone family businesses. He grew up knowing, from birth, that it was his destiny to inherit them, to take over from our father. Our grandfather drilled that into him from a young age. Max had little choice.’

‘Do you think he might have chosen to do something else?’

‘Who can say?’ Luca lifted his shoulders. ‘I believe he’s happy. He oversees the pearl-farming operations.’

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