She scrawled a quick note; she had to say she was sorry. Leaving it on the dressing table, she pulled off the ring Luc had given her and laid it on top.
…
“Are you alright?”
Lia glanced up; a middle-aged woman was standing over her. “Sorry?” she asked not having heard the question.
“It’s just that my husband,” the woman nodded over in the direction of a man sitting across from them, “noticed you were crying.”
“What?” Lia reached up and wiped her hand across her face. Her cheeks were damp, and she realized she had been sitting quietly weeping and hadn’t noticed. She forced her lips into some semblance of a smile.
“I’m fine,” she murmured. “Really, just some bad news, but I’m okay. It was nice of you to ask. I’ll go clean up.”
She got up and hurried away, feeling their eyes watching her. In the ladies’ room, she splashed cold water on her face, dried it off with paper towels, and then slipped a pair of sunglasses on over her reddened eyes. When she came out, she wandered across to the other side of the lounge and took a seat at the end of a row. She still felt as though she was being watched, so she got up and bought a paper at one of the bookshops. She returned to her seat and burrowed her nose in it, not wanting to draw any more attention to herself. The words were a jumbled mass of unintelligible shapes in front of her, and it was in Italian anyway, but at least she felt camouflaged. Almost like a normal person, not one who felt as though she’d been ripped apart.
She allowed her mind to drift over the previous evening. How Luc had looked, how he had felt when he made love to her, the promise in his eyes.
“Lia?”
It was as though she had conjured him up. He stood over her, dressed as he had been that morning, his long, lean frame elegantly encased in a light gray silk suit, a white shirt open at the neck. For a moment, she couldn’t bring herself to face him, and she peered past. The woman who had spoken to her earlier was openly staring, as were many other women. Luc always had that effect. Finally, she gave in to temptation and peeked up. His dark hair was ruffled as though he had run his hands through it, his eyes were grim, and lines of strain were etched around his sensual mouth.
“Lia, why did you leave? Why didn’t you wait and talk to me?”
She blinked and shook her head as if coming out of a stupor. “Your mother came to see me.”
His eyes narrowed. “I know. I’ve just come from speaking with her. She had no right.”
“She bought me a ticket,” Lia said. “I didn’t want to miss my flight, and she arranged everything so well. A boat, a car, now an airplane. She really wants me gone. And who can blame her?”
Lia felt the tears starting again and blinked frantically behind her dark glasses.
Luc reached out a hand but then let it fall to his side. “We need to talk.”
“We’ve had plenty of time to talk. You should have told me before I...” She broke off, realizing with horror that she had been going to say before I fell in love with you.
He was silent for a moment. “There’s something I need to tell you.” When she didn’t move, he continued. “Lia, it’s important.”
She had been staring at his beautifully shod feet. Now she forced her eyes upward once more. “Then tell me.”
“We can’t talk here.”
He reached out a hand and took her arm. She allowed herself to be pulled almost gently to her feet. Not wanting to make a scene, she let him steer her through the airport.
They weren’t even questioned as he led her through a door and into the first-class lounge. It was blissfully quiet after the bustle of the main area, and Luc pushed her down into a seat in the corner.
“I’ll be back,” he said.
Everything seemed at a distance; she knew she was in shock and tried to pull herself together. Whatever it was Luc wanted to speak to her about, she needed her wits about her. Why hadn’t he told her before? If she had known the truth from the start, she would have known there could never be a future for them.
“Here,” Luc said, sinking into the seat beside her, “drink this.”
He placed two glasses on the table. Whiskey, she could smell the spirit, and she lifted one to her lips, grateful for something to do. The drink burned down her throat.
“I was going to tell you,” Luc said when she remained silent.
“When?”
“Soon.” He sighed and took a swallow of his own drink. Lia studied him closely and realized in amazement that he was actually as shaken as she was. “I didn’t want to spoil our time on the island. I was going to tell you as soon as we returned to London. But Lia, what your father did, it doesn’t matter.”