Against a backdrop of the glorious sunshine stood Matteo. In a polo shirt, wearing sunglasses. Hair, windswept. She gripped the door frame as her knees weakened. He was the last person she’d expected to see, and yet she drank him in like a woman dying of thirst. It didn’t seem to matter what he’d said, the emotions came flooding back. The exhilaration, the despair. Jumbled together in such a potent mix and she didn’t know whether to shout at him to leave, or fall to her knees and beg him to stay.
But his path didn’t intersect with hers, so staying wasn’t an option.
‘Lulu.’
‘Matteo.’
He winced, but he’d ceased to be Matty the day she’d walked out of the villa. When he showed her what he was prepared to do to exact revenge against a family who was not worth either of their time. Showed her exactly what he thought of her too. Rejecting her offer of love, of home.
‘May I come in?’
She held out her hands. ‘Can I stop you?’
He stood there looking as magnificent as ever. Tall, imposing. His skin a warm, tanned brown from days in the sun. Though now she noticed other things. He strangely held his shoes in his hands. His tan chinos rolled up to mid-calf, darkened with water at the bottom. They hung a little loosely against his lean hips. The stubble shading his jaw seeming to be more of a rough beard. How under his eyes had taken on as bruised an appearance as her own.
He looked like hell. It should have made her feel good, feel satisfied.
It didn’t.
He gave a pained exhale. ‘Lul—’
‘No, just no. I’m not Lulu. You’re not Matty. They were two children who should have grown up a long time ago. They don’t exist any more.’
Why, after all he’d said, did she still want to reach out and comfort him? It made no sense, but she guessed love was like that. He was the man who’d shown her herself. Held up a mirror and forced her to look. In the process she’d liked who she saw, just as she believed he’d liked her too.
‘I’ll leave if you want me to.’
The thing was, she didn’t. It made her angry. She was trying to get over him and he turned up here? How long would it take now to forget him after seeing him in the flesh? It was like some cruel game.
Still, she stood back, inviting him inside.
‘Come on through,’ she said. The space seeming to shrink with his imposing presence. He dropped his shoes inside the door then followed Louisa up the stairs to a tiny kitchen, where she put the kettle on. When the water boiled, she made a cup of tea for herself. He shook his head when she offered one to him, gripping the back of a kitchen chair till his fingertips blanched white.
‘I thought you’d be living at Easton Hall.’
‘It doesn’t feel like mine now,’ she said, leaning against the kitchen bench.
‘You have a right to be there.’
‘Do I? Really?’ Louisa took a sip of the hot tea. ‘I thought you’d be happy to find me here and not staking my claim.’
He rubbed his hand over his face. ‘There are things I need to say.’
‘I won’t stop you. But I guess you should sit down rather than looming.’
She didn’t want to be so sharp with him, but all those old hurts came flooding back. How she’d trusted him. How she’d believed in him. How she’d thought he believed in her too. And she realised in many ways that was her flaw. She’d been desperate to find things in others, things that she really hadn’t developed herself. She’d expected so much of him when, in reality, he was only human. Just as she was.
He pulled out the chair. Sat. Seemed to try to make himself...smaller in some way. Perhaps he’d taken the looming comment to heart. She pulled out a chair and sat too.
‘The family’s claim on the estate...’ he said.
She waited to hear whether they’d issued proceedings yet. Had resigned herself to the years of litigation. The crippling fear he’d reveal to the world what had happened to her, despite her wishes. No certainty over the outcome. No certainty about where she’d live. Because Matteo would tangle them up in litigation for as long as would cause the Bainbridge family the greatest pain. It was all so exhausting. So pointless.
‘It’s over, Lulu.’
Her heart rate spiked. She put her cup down on the table with a thud, although still holding on to it as if it were her only tether to reality. ‘What do you mean,over?’
His golden gaze held hers. She was afraid of what he might see if he looked too hard. ‘I needed you to know there’s no risk to Easton Hall.’
