her. She felt too drained to move, too torn by the conflicts that still raged around them to achieve any peace of mind. Luc stepped behind her chair and his hands slid over her shoulders and started a gentle massage.
‘None of this is your fault,’ he murmured, dropping a kiss on the top of her head, caring for her uppermost in his tone now. ‘Try to relax, Skye. If my mother visits again…just let it be. Matt is her grandson. So long as the connection is good for him, no harm done.’
The tension in her shoulders eased under his expert manipulation. ‘What about you, Luc? You’re her son.’
‘I’ll welcome her if I’m with you and Matt. But don’t be surprised if she never comes again. My father might forbid it. In which case…’
‘Forbid?’ She shook her head over the harsh concept.
‘It’s an old-fashioned Italian marriage,’ Luc said wryly. ‘Love, honour, obey…’
‘Is that how you think, too? That you have the right to forbid me to do something you disapprove of?’
‘No. I don’t own you, Skye. I don’t see marriage as a form of ownership. Nor do I see parenthood that way. There comes a time when you have to let a child choose his own path, even against what you think are his best interests.’
‘What if your father honestly thought how he acted was in your best interests, Luc?’
‘It doesn’t excuse hurting you as he did.’
‘He didn’t know me.’
Caring too much about one person could make you blind to others, Skye thought. And protecting the life you know can make you blind to others’ lives, too. It was what she’d been doing.
Luc’s thumbs pressed harder into her muscles as he said, ‘He didn’t try to know you.’
Anger again.
Anger built on her anger at what had been done to her. Perhaps anger at himself, as well, for believing what he should never have believed, knowing her as intimately as he had. But that was far in the past now, and Skye didn’t want their future built on such a divisive foundation.
‘What if he tries now, Luc?’
The movement of his hands halted. He dragged in a deep breath and exhaled it very slowly. ‘Let’s not talk about my father, Skye. It’s you I need.’
The raw need in his voice compelled her to rise from her chair and give him whatever he wanted of her. He instantly caught her to him, one arm sweeping around her waist, one hand lifting to her face to stroke away any worry lines. His eyes searched hers with a searing intensity.
‘I love you. Don’t let anything come between us.’
The passionate plea carried the scars of their past experience, and Skye knew intuitively they’d been brought to throbbing life again by the intrusion of his family. She curled her arms around his neck and kissed him, not wanting him to feel any uncertainty about her love. That was strong and true, always had been, always would be.
They went to bed and made love long into the night.
Skye did not doubt Luc’s commitment to her for a second.
But not even the secure comfort of being this close to him could banish the sense of wrongs which still had to be righted.
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