Instead, he stayed right where he was.
‘Thank you, I...’ She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling. ‘Your thoughtfulness... In my life...nothing’s ever really felt like it was about me.’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘Life’s not fair.’
The words carried so much weight. A heaviness falling across everything. Of course, both her parents had died, leaving her in the care of Mae, who, in the end, she’d had to care for too. ‘No, it isn’t.’
She nodded, then turned back to the scene in front of her. This was one of his favourite rooms in the house. He hoped she liked it too.
‘It’s perfect. I couldn’t have asked for more in the circumstances.’
That was his reminder. He had a job to do, to convince her to leave Easton Hall. To fight off the family too, who were still making noises about challenging the will...
‘The world’s a beautiful place.’ He had hotels and retreats in some of the most sought-after places on the planet. ‘Venice, with its spectacular arched bridges and canals. Jaipur, the Pink City. Or the Whitsundays, with some of the most exquisite beaches in the world. I’ve been almost everywhere.’
‘I’ve never been to the beach.’
She said it quietly, almost as if it was some terrible admission. He couldn’t fathom it, not ever having seen the ocean. Not having travelled. Why hadn’t Mae pushed her harder? He gritted his teeth. Instead, Louisa was hidden away when there was a whole world to explore. If she was afraid to go on her own, he could show it all to her. The bright lights of New York, in the city that never slept. The pyramids of Egypt, with all their history. The beauty of Paris, the romance...
Why was he thinking of romance? Never once had thoughts of it entered his head before, not even when he’d bought his first hotel there. It was simply another place to stay in his nomadic life.
‘I have a beach here. On the lake. There are a few public ones but mine’s private. It might not be the ocean, but I can show you if you like? We could go there now.’
He wanted that look on her face again, of joy. Her laughter.
She smiled. It was a fragile, tremulous kind of thing. ‘I’d like that. Maybe a bit later? I want to set up my workspace first. Make a start. I—I’ve never missed a deadline before, and I’d like to get back on track.’
His gut clenched, almost like disappointment. Though why he should have any sense of that was beyond him. He had work to do. Another brief report from the structural engineer to read about Easton Hall. Insurance claims to consider. After that, he’d take her to the lake. They could treat this like a holiday for her, a grand adventure. Then she’d see that returning to live in a mouldering old stately home in the country was a complete waste. That there was a world to see and he’d pay her very well to allow her the means of doing so. If she travelled, she could stay at any one of his retreats or hotels, then he’d know she was safe and looked after. He’d be fulfilling his promise to Mae.
It all made complete sense. Though he wasn’t sure why the bile rose bitter in his throat, thinking of it all.
‘How long do you need?’
‘A couple of hours?’
She walked back to her desk. To the brushes and the sketchbooks. Her paints. There, he witnessed a look. It was difficult to define. Something like true happiness.
Had he ever found anything like it in his work? It was more a means to an end. Something he was good at. Was it his passion?
Matteo wasn’t sure. What he did drove him every day. He’d done better than he’d ever believed possible when he’d first started out. Was known around the world as providing the finest luxury retreats and hotels where privacy and comfort reigned. A home away from home only...better.
And what made him the best of the best were his drive and perfectionism. He rarely had a day away from it. Allowed himself no distractions. Yet Louisa seemed to be occupying more and more of his thinking time. Easton Hall he could understand, given that was part of his plan, yet that place and Louisa were inextricably bound. He needed to keep his eyes on the prize, finally wrestling the home away from the clutches of his family and into his business. The ultimate win.
He watched Louisa getting to work. Today, her hair was bound in a long plait down her back. How he longed to see it loose again, spilling long and red in its perfect copper waves.
Later.
‘I’ll be back in two hours, then,’ he said, before walking to the door. Already, Louisa had begun immersing herself in her work. She’d slipped on reading glasses. The first time he’d seen her in them since the day he’d arrived at Easton Hall. They made her look...cute. Almost studious. Another side to her that he craved to explore.
He shook his head. No. She was a distraction he needed to ignore.
Yet why did leaving the room seem like one of the hardest things he’d ever done?
CHAPTER SIX
ONHERBESTdays Louisa would fall into the rhythm of her illustrations. The scratch of the ink pen on the page. The flow of the watercolour washes, the coloured pencils. Today, though, something was different. It was as if the sunlight in Italy changed her drawings. The brightness of it all. Everything vibrant and glowing. Her colours more saturated. She pushed her glasses up her nose. On her page sat another frog prince roughly sketched out in ink. Never without his jaunty smirk, because that was his signature. Hopping about with his crown askew on his head. She smiled. Her characters often took on a life of their own. She added a few sprigs of lavender to the foreground. A lake in the midground. Castle and mountains in the distance.
