over her shoulders after he pushed her chair in, and twined in her hair. She went very still, sparks zipping along her spine and behind her ears. It hurt, and it felt like the most wonderful thing all at once.
She wanted him to keep touching her, to slide his fingers against her scalp and then along her neck, down to her breasts. She wanted it far more than she should.
And then his breath was in her ear, and a deep shiver rolled through her.
“I would not say enjoy so much as endure, perhaps,” he said before dropping his hand and taking his own seat.
Tina picked up her water and took a sip. She felt raw inside, exposed, as if he’d seen to the deepest heart of her and knew that her body betrayed her every time he was near. “I was being sarcastic.”
His eyes glittered darkly. “Yes, I realize this. And I was simply saying what you were thinking.”
They were silent while the food arrived. There was an antipasti platter, a delicate angel-hair pasta in sauce, broiled fish, verdure and an array of cheeses. The women who’d brought the meal disappeared and Nico proceeded to serve her. She didn’t say anything while he filled her plate. Once he finished, he poured more sparkling water into her glass.
She waited while he began to fill his own plate, but he stopped and looked at her. “Eat, Valentina.”
“I will,” she said softly. “I’m waiting for you.”
“Don’t wait.”
“It’s not polite to start eating.”
“To hell with polite. Eat.”
She picked up an olive and popped it into her mouth. “Everyone calls me Tina,” she said. “You might as well, too.”
“If you prefer it.”
She shrugged. “I don’t, but it’s what my friends call me.”
He arched an eyebrow, and she couldn’t help but think he looked like the devil, all sinful and dark and tempting. “Are we friends then?”
“Hardly. But Valentina makes me think I’m in trouble.” She ate another olive and sighed. “Which I suppose I am, really.”
“Are you?”
“It certainly seems that way. I started the day in Rome and I’d made plans to go to Capri. This is not Capri.”
He inclined his head. “No, it’s prettier. And more exclusive.”
She took a bite of pasta. It was delicious and she nearly moaned with the pleasure of eating solid food again for the first time in days. A light breeze blew over them then, and she was glad she’d put her jacket on again. It wasn’t unpleasant, far from it, but it would be too cool without sleeves. “Did you grow up here?”
“No.”
“I imagine your family has a lot of homes.”
“Yes.”
Tina pushed an olive around her plate. “Which was your favorite?”
His gaze speared into her then, intense and dark and forbidding. His smooth jaw was tight, and she realized that she’d stumbled into something he didn’t want to discuss. It made no sense to her. He’d grown up with so much, while she and Mama and Renzo had lived in tiny apartments in back alleys for most of her childhood.
“I have no favorite,” he said shortly. “I spent much of my time away at school.”
Sympathy flooded her, though she couldn’t imagine his experience being bad. He was an aristocrat, wealthy and very beautiful. He would have been the sun around which the other kids orbited.
“I did, too, once I hit fifteen,” she said. “It wasn’t a good time to go away.”
“It never is.” He took a sip of wine. “I went to school when I was six. I came home on breaks until I was seventeen.” He shrugged. “So I have no particularly favorite house. I spent more time at school than I did here, or in any of the Gavretti estates.”
“I didn’t know,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes were as hard as diamonds. “There is nothing to be sorry about. I received a spectacular education and went to a top university.”
“And spent summers with Renzo in the garage,” she added.
“Yes.”
Tina let out a heavy sigh. “Did you at least enjoy the time you spent with us? I had thought you did, but I was young. It’s just that you seemed … happy.”
She thought she might have said too much, but he only looked toward the cliffs and didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I was,” he finally said. “I enjoyed building the prototype with Renzo.”
“And yet you left. And Renzo refuses to speak of you to this day. What happened?”
His head whipped around again, his eyes spearing into her. “It’s not important.”
Impulsively, she reached for his hand, grasped it in hers. His skin was warm, and the blood rushed through her veins just from this contact, making her feel lightheaded and confused.
“It is important, Nico. I want you and Renzo to be friends again. I want it to be the way it was.”
She thought he would jerk away, but he turned her hand in his, traced his fingers in her palm while she shivered deep inside. “It can never be the way it was, cara. You are a woman now, not a child. You know life does not move backward.”
Hot tears pressed against her eyelids. “I wish it did. For the sake of our baby, I wish I could fix whatever is wrong between you and Renzo.”
Because, no matter what happened between them, he was a part of her life now. Through this baby, the Gavrettis and D’Angelis would always be connected. And it made her sad to think it would not be easy for any of them.
He sat back and let her go. The air wafting over her skin made her feel cold suddenly. “You cannot fix it, Tina. No one can.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “I refuse to believe that.”
“Then you are a fool.”
She looked at him for a long moment. “I refuse to believe that, too,” she said, her throat aching.
“Believe what you like, but it does not alter reality,” he told her coolly. “Now eat, or we will never leave this table.”
She did as he commanded, but only for the baby’s sake. The food, which was delicious, failed to give her any pleasure. The more she thought of Nico and her brother, of the way they used to be and the way they were now, the less she tasted of the food.
There had to be a way to repair whatever had gone wrong, if only one of them would tell her about it. She thought of Renzo in the Caribbean with his wife and was thankful they were away for now. She shuddered
