as much as she tried to distract herself with their surroundings she couldn’t block out Massimo’s lean frame striding beside her.
When they reached their chalet, he picked up the briefcase he’d left on their dining table.
Everything about this chalet was supposed to be theirs. Everything had been designed to their exact instructions; a love nest they’d imagined themselves escaping to whenever time allowed, designed and dreamed up before Livia had realised time would never allow it. For Massimo, time existed only for work.
He stared at her for a moment before his chest rose sharply. ‘I’ll work on the veranda. Sleep well.’
Her goodnight to him came out as a whisper.
He closed the door quietly behind him.
Massimo powered his laptop but, other than reply to a few urgent emails, found he didn’t have the concentration to work.
Sighing heavily, he ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes.
It felt as if he’d slipped into a time loop, taken back to the days when he’d worked from the sprawling building that homed Briatore Technologies and found his concentration fighting a war with himself. Livia had taken back possession of his mind. She’d been all he could think of then. She was all he could think of now.
It didn’t matter, he told himself grimly. One more full day and night and then that would be it for them. She would live her life in Italy and he would live his in LA.
Thinking he could do with another drink before attempting to sleep in the hammock he’d instructed be erected when he’d remembered the chalet he would share with his estranged wife had only one bed, he padded quietly back inside. Before he could switch the light on and head to the bar, he noticed a slant of light coming from beneath the closed bedroom door.
His heart fisted.
He’d left her over an hour ago, plenty of time for her to do her night-time beauty routine and fall asleep. Was she reading?
Was she wearing the cream pyjamas that managed to be both modest and yet revealing…?
He stepped closer to the bedroom door, his ears craning when he heard her voice. She was talking to someone.
A lover?
Hating himself yet unable to stop, he put his ear to the door. The wooden barrier muffled her words.
She laughed. It sounded pained. And then she said something distinguishable even through the muffling.
‘Please. I love you.’
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