fierce thing that soared in him at that, possessiveness mixed with a kind of triumph.
“But you dated my father.”
For the first time she looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t necessarily want to date him,” she said softly. “But he’d been so nice, and so sweet, and I didn’t see the harm in having another dinner with him. I thought I was doing a good deed.”
“What did your mother think?”
She didn’t quite flinch. But he saw the tiny, abortive movement she made, and his eyes narrowed.
“She’s always worried that I had more looks than sense,” Kathryn said quietly. “Which I’m afraid I proved to her through my failures with my studies.”
“A first-class degree is, by definition, not any kind of failure.”
“I had to work ten times as hard as she did, and I still only did it by my teeth,” she said with a dismissive wave of one hand. “But when we met your father, it seemed a perfect opportunity to stop worrying about the brains part and let the looks do some good for a change.”
“What,” Luca asked through his teeth, “does that mean?”
“It meant we both knew he liked the look of me,” Kathryn said, with an edge to her voice. She sat up straighter on the bed. “And he was just as funny and kind and charming when I went out with him alone. Still, when he asked me to marry him on the third date, I laughed.”
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