She sneaked a look. ‘Is it your family home? Where you grew up?’
He shook his head abruptly, and when he answered his voice was tight. ‘No, we lived out in the suburbs. My parents wouldn’t have approved of living so near to the beaches and favelas.’
Serena thought of what he’d told her about his parents so far and asked, ‘You weren’t close to them?’
His mouth twisted. ‘No. They split up when we were six, and my mother moved back to her native Italy.’
Serena had forgotten about that Italian connection. ‘You said we... Do you have brothers and sisters?’
She could sense his reluctance to answer, but they weren’t going anywhere fast in the evening traffic. Luca sighed. ‘Yes, I have a twin brother.’
Serena’s eyes widened. ‘Wow—a twin? That’s pretty amazing.’ Her mind boggled slightly at the thought of two Lucas.
He slid her a mocking look and said, ‘We’re non-identical. He lives in Italy; he moved there with our mother after the divorce.’
Serena processed this and turned in her seat to face him. ‘Wait...you mean you were split up?’
The thought of anyone splitting her and Siena up at that young age made her go cold. Siena had been the only anchor in her crazy world.
Luca faced forward, his voice emotionless. ‘Yes, my parents decided that each would take one of us. My mother chose me to go to Italy with her, but when my brother got upset she swapped us and took him instead.’
Serena gasped as that scenario sank in. ‘But that’s...horrific. And your father just let her?’
Luca looked at her, face hard. ‘He didn’t care which son he got as long as he got one of us to be his heir.’
Serena knew what it was to grow up under a cruel tyrant, but this shocked even her. ‘And are you close now? You and your brother?’
Luca shrugged minutely. ‘Not particularly. But he was the one who bailed me out of jail, and he was the one who arranged for the best legal defence to get me out of Florence and back to Rio, avoiding a lengthy trial and jail time.’
His expression hardened to something infinitely cynical.
‘A hefty donation towards “the preservation of Florence” was all it took to get the trial mysteriously dismissed. That money undoubtedly went to corrupt officials—one of whom was probably your father—but I was damned if I was going to hang for a crime I wasn’t even responsible for. But they wouldn’t clear me completely, so every time I fly to Europe now I come under the radar of Europe’s law enforcement agencies.’
Serena felt cold. She turned back to the front, staring unseeingly out of the window, knowing it was futile to say anything. She’d protested her innocence till she was blue in the face, but Luca was right—his association with her had made things worse for him.
They were turning into a vast tree-lined driveway now, which led up to a glittering colonial-style building. When Luca pulled up, and a valet parker waited for him to get out, Serena took several deep breaths to calm her frayed nerves.
Luca surprised her by not getting out straight away.
He turned to her. ‘I’m not interested in the past any more, Serena. I’m interested in the here and now.’
Serena swallowed. Something fragile seemed to shimmer between them...tantalising. And then he got out of the car and she sucked in another shaky breath.
He came around and opened her door, extended a hand to help her out. She took it, and when his gaze tracked down her body and lingered on her breasts a pulse throbbed between her legs.
He tucked her arm into his as they moved forward and joined similarly dressed couples entering a glittering doorway lit by hundreds of small lights. It was a scene Serena had seen a million times before, but never heightened like this. Never romantic.
She asked herself as Luca led her inside, greeting someone in Portuguese, if they really could let the past go. Or was that just what Luca was willing to say so that he could bed her and then walk away, with all that resentment still simmering under the surface?
‘Do you think you could crack a smile and not look as if you’re about to be subjected to torture?’
Serena glanced at Luca, who had a fixed social smile on his face. She sent up silent thanks that he couldn’t read her thoughts and said sweetly. ‘But this is torture.’
Something flared in his eyes—surprise?—and then he said, ‘Torture it may well be, but a few hours of social torture is worth it if it means that a favela gets a new free school staffed by qualified teachers.’
Serena felt immediately chastened. ‘Is that what this evening’s ball is in aid of?’
Luca looked at her assessingly. ‘Among some other causes. The global communities charity too.’
Serena thought of that sweet little girl in the village—a million miles away from here...and yet not.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said huskily. ‘You’re right—it is worth it.’
Serena missed Luca’s speculative look because a waiter was interrupting them with a tray of champagne. Luca took a glass and looked at her when she didn’t.
She shook her head quickly and said to the waiter, ‘Do you have some sparkling water, please?’
The waiter rushed off and Luca frowned slightly. ‘You really don’t drink any more?’
Serena’s belly clenched. ‘No, I really don’t.’ She made a face. ‘I never liked the taste of alcohol anyway. It was more for the effect it had on me.’
‘What was that?’
She looked at him. ‘Numbing.’
The moment stretched between them...taut. And then the attentive waiter returned with a glass of water on a tray for Serena. She took it gratefully. Luca was getting too close to that dark place inside her.
To her relief someone came up then, and took his attention, but just as Serena felt hopeful that he might forget about her she felt her heart sink and jump in equal measure when she felt him reach for her hand and tug her with him, introducing her to the man.
* * *
Luca was finding it hard to concentrate on the conversation around him when he usually had no problem. Even if he was with a woman. He was aware of every tiny movement Serena made in that dress, and acutely aware of the attention she was attracting.
He was also aware that she seemed ill at ease. He’d expected her to come back into this kind of environment and take to it like the proverbial duck to water, but when they’d first come in she’d looked pained. It was just like in the jungle, when she’d proved him resoundingly wrong in his expectations of her.
Now her head was bent towards one of the executive team who managed his charities
