his arm from his face and turned his head to rake her with one quick glance. Even in the moonlit darkness Hannah could see how indifferent he looked, and inwardly she quelled.
This had been a mistake. A wonderful, terrible mistake, and one she would most certainly regret no matter the pleasure she’d experienced. How could she work with Luca from now on? What if he fired her? But even worse than the fears for her job was the piercing loneliness of the thought that he might shut her out of his life. He already was, and she’d barely been in it to begin with.
She took a deep, calming breath and told herself not to jump to conclusions.
‘Your dress,’ Luca stated flatly.
Hannah glanced down at it. ‘I’m afraid it’s past repair.’
‘I’m thinking of getting back to the room,’ he clarified impatiently. ‘I don’t care about the dress.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ She bit her lip, trying not to feel hurt. This was a far cry from pillow talk, but then they hadn’t even had a bed. They’d had a few moments of frenzied, mindless passion that Luca undoubtedly regretted, just as she was starting to.
Luca sat up, readjusting his trousers and then searching for the studs on his shirt. He found enough to keep the shirt mostly fastened, and he stuffed his tie and cummerbund in his pocket. Then he shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
‘There. You’re mostly decent. Hopefully we can sneak into the room without anyone seeing us.’
‘And if they do?’ Hannah asked, thankful her voice didn’t wobble. ‘Wouldn’t they just think we’d done exactly what they’d expect us to do, and made love under the stars?’
Luca’s mouth compressed and he stood up, brushing the sand from his legs before he reached a hand down to her. She took it only because she knew she’d struggle getting up on her own. She was torn between an irrational anger—how had she expected Luca to act?—and a deep and disturbing hurt. She shouldn’t care this much. She hadn’t had feelings for Luca, not really.
Except somehow, in the last twenty-four hours, she had begun to develop them. She’d seen intriguing glimpses into a man whom she’d already respected and admired—glimpses of strength and emotion. She’d seen him determined and arrogant but also humble, concerned for her even while he was in the throes of his own emotional agony. Luca Moretti had depths she’d discovered this weekend that he hadn’t even hinted at before.
And he was hiding them all from her now. He dropped her hand the moment she was upright and started walking back towards the villa, its lights glimmering in the distance. Hannah followed him, clutching his jacket around her shoulders, wincing at the sand she could feel in her hair and clothes.
They skirted around the terrace that was now empty to the other side of the house, where the bedrooms’ French windows overlooked the beach.
‘You’d better pick the right room,’ Hannah muttered darkly. Hurt and anger were giving way to a weary resignation as she scrambled to think of a way to navigate this awful aftermath.
Luca didn’t even reply, just stalked ahead and then flung open a pair of windows and ushered her into their bedroom. Hannah stepped inside, her glance taking in the turned-down bed, the chocolate hearts on the pillows. Had it been only twenty-four hours ago that she’d been in this same room, this same position, except now everything felt drastically different?
‘Why don’t you get cleaned up?’ Luca said, nodding towards the bathroom without looking at her. ‘And then we’ll talk.’
LUCA SHRUGGED OFF his torn shirt as Hannah disappeared into the bathroom. What had he been thinking, slaking his lust with his PA? The trouble was, he hadn’t been thinking. He’d been utterly in the grip of his own awful emotions, and Hannah’s tentative comfort had been the balm he’d so desperately craved. It was only afterwards, after the most sexually and emotionally explosive encounter he’d ever experienced, that the regrets came rushing in. Regret to have slept with his PA at all, and, worse, shame that he’d allowed her to see him in such a vulnerable state. What must Hannah think of him? It had practically been a pity lay.
Except she had been just as gripped by the raw, urgent need that he’d felt consume him. She’d been just as desperate to have him inside her as he’d been to be there.
The knowledge didn’t make him feel any better. The whole thing was an appalling mistake, made about a thousand times worse by the fact that they hadn’t used any protection.
Hannah emerged from the bathroom, dressed in the same awful pyjamas she’d worn last night, but at least tonight Luca was grateful for the way they hid her body. The last thing he needed was to feel tempted again.
She didn’t look at him as she came into the room, going directly to the bed. Her body was stiff with affront and Luca watched in bemused disbelief as she reached for her book by the bedside table and then buried her nose in it.
He took a deep breath. ‘Hannah.’ She didn’t so much as look up from her book. ‘We need to talk.’
‘Oh, now we need to talk?’ Finally she looked up, and Luca saw anger firing her brown eyes, turning them to gold. Her hair was tousled about her shoulders, her face flushed, and, pyjamas aside, she looked utterly lovely.
But he had to stop thinking that way.
‘Yes, now we need to talk.’
‘Not right after?’ Hannah filled in. ‘No, you couldn’t bother to say boo to me then.’
Luca’s insides tightened with both irritation and remorse. He hadn’t treated her very well, back on the beach, but she’d blindsided him, in so many ways. ‘Clearly what happened took us both by surprise.’ She took a deep breath and nodded, her hands folded across her abandoned book. ‘So much so that I didn’t think to use any protection.’
Hannah’s lips parted on a soundless gasp as her eyes widened in shocked realisation. ‘I didn’t even think of that.’ She nibbled her lip. ‘But it’s not... I mean, based on the time of the month, I don’t think it’s risky.’
‘You’d let me know? I mean, if...?’
Her gaze locked with his and her breath came out in a rush. Luca felt the import of the moment, the enormous impact of what they’d shared together. More than he’d ever shared with any other woman, pregnancy or not. ‘Yes, of course,’ she answered. ‘If. But I really don’t think there’s going to be an if. So that’s one less thing to worry about.’ She tried for a smile but it wobbled and slid off her face, and she looked away, blinking rapidly.
‘Hannah...’ He expelled a shaky breath. He was finding this all a lot harder than he would have wished. He didn’t like the realisation that he’d hurt her.
Hannah glanced down at her laced fingers. ‘You don’t need to worry about me, Luca,’ she said quietly. ‘I wasn’t looking for some kind of fairy tale, and I certainly don’t have any expectations because of...well, you know.’
And that proclamation, which should have only brought blessed relief, caused him the most absurd flicker of disappointment. His emotions were
