placed lights highlighted the stone balustrades and urns at the entrance and the stylised topiary shapes and the tall cypresses in the grounds. It was rather romantic, if you went in for that sort of thing.
He paused for a minute before he stepped out on the balcony, looking at Lisa sitting patiently, her face in profile, the signature thick tawny-blonde hair flowing down her back, her head tilting this way and that as she drank in the view like a butterfly trying to capture the best nectar in the garden. Serene and content, she looked at home on the balcony, sitting on one of the bistro chairs. It was almost possible to imagine she was sitting there waiting for him, rather than resigned and resentful that he’d crashed her party.
His next step stalled, unable to move over the threshold as it hit him. A punch of regret seared through him as reality slapped him in the face. What the fuck was he playing at? That stupid dog-in-the-manger impulse had really got the better of him. Bloody stupid.
Why the hell had he decided to stick a spanner in the works and come out here? She was better off with Giovanni. No, fuck that. She wasn’t better off with Giovanni, he wasn’t right for her. Which begged the question – what was she up to? Will knew Giovanni had been interested in her for months and she’d not shown any sign of reciprocating.
Will prayed she wouldn’t look up as his gaze roved over her, steeling himself against the familiar leap of his pulse. She deserved much better; someone who could be there for the long haul. Even though she’d said she didn’t want commitment, he knew she needed someone in her life. Someone who would look out for her and be there for her when her Nan had gone.
Not someone who couldn’t even measure up to his own damn family.
‘Are you going to come out here or lurk in the doorway, because my manners are about to go down the swannee any second.’ Lisa’s grumpy expression forced him to move.
Since when did she have a problem with manners around him? ‘Start. I wouldn’t want you to starve.’
She gave him a sour smile, picked up her fork and examined the food, as if she were worried something nasty might jump out and bite her.
‘Everything alright?’ he asked, amused when he noticed she’d pushed the artichokes to one side already. ‘Want a glass?’ He put the bottle and glasses down.
‘Mmm,’ she mumbled through her food, her head down, hunched over it as if fearful it might be snatched away from her at any second. Not that he blamed her, his stomach felt as if it had been excavated by a bulldozer.
He poured the rich ruby wine into the glasses and took a deep sniff.
She eyed him suspiciously.
‘It’s a good one.’
‘I wouldn’t know, you’re the gastrodom.’
‘Is that even a word?’ Will looked thoughtful for a minute and took a long swallow. ‘I rather like it – ruler of the known gastroverse.’
She scowled at him again, spurring on the devil inside that took delight in winding her up. It took him back to a more carefree time, when they’d been friends and there’d been no other overtones.
‘I rather like the dom element …’
With a toss of her head, swinging her hair down her back, she reached for her glass and took a hefty gulp.
‘Ooh,’ she paused, as caution set in. It was almost comical, her wavering for a second before she could bring herself to say it. ‘This is nice. Really nice.’
‘We aim to please.’
‘And the food is nice too.’ She took a healthy bite of pasta and he noticed she’d accidentally scooped up a piece of sundried tomato. He watched closely. ‘I … the tomatoes are actually okay.’ She took another mouthful, this time not avoiding the little slivers of red, and munched with thoughtful application before she pronounced, a little more enthusiastically, ‘Really good.’ Another pause. ‘Thank you.’
‘It’s alright. I needed to eat too.’
‘Well, of course.’
‘Why the change of heart?’ Damn, he hadn’t meant to bring it up. Now he sounded like a jealous idiot.
She shrugged and examined the far corner of the garden. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘You and Giovanni? I didn’t think you were interested.’
‘Maybe a cheap holiday was too good to pass up,’ she said evasively.
He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘You hate flying. What changed? You suddenly decided Giovanni was the one?’
She scowled at him. ‘And it has to do with you, how?’
‘I don’t see you two together.’ Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? Back off, be indifferent. It was nothing to do with him and he didn’t want it to be anything to do with him.
‘And what? You’re the expert on relationships all of a sudden, Mr Two-dates-and-then-you’ve-passed-your-sell-by? I hardly think you’re qualified to comment.’
‘Who knew there’s a degree in observation and common sense?’
‘I was referring to your track record. Nine different women in the last se … however many months.’
‘You’ve been counting?’ His voice acquired a bored drawl to hide the sudden quickening of his pulse at the thought she’d been keeping count. ‘I had no idea you were so interested in my well-being.’
‘I wasn’t. I’m not. It never ceases to amaze me that there are that many gullible women out there, that’s all.’
The narrowed-eyed stare she shot his way packed a full punch of icy disdain and it stung. ‘Everyone I date knows what they’re getting into. I’m not looking for a relationship.’
‘Yeah, I think everyone knows what a tart you are,’ she jibed.
His stomach clenched, but he shrugged. ‘Better than promising something you can’t deliver.’ It never ceased to amaze him that his parents ever made a contract of marriage. The only promise they could deliver on was leading each other up the garden path.
‘True, at least you’re honest about it,’ she said.
Will tensed, his skin itching as a furious blush burnt the skin of his cheeks. ‘Yes, I’m honest. I don’t lie to anyone.’ He hadn’t lied to her. She’d backed off as much as he had. And okay, maybe it had suited him and been a bit of a relief, but they’d both been guilty of total and utter inertia.
It was better this way. He’d seen too often the chaos his parents’ parlous relationship left in its wake. Rows, recriminations, hide-piercing sarcasm, withering insults. It was so bloody exhausting.
She eyed him over her wine glass and, being honest herself, her mouth dipped in a moue of acknowledgement. She lifted her glass and toasted him.
‘Lovely meal, thank you.’
‘My pleasure.’ It was like a sea mist lifting, both
