They stared at each other.
Raul's black eyes met Bastiano's silver-grey and they shared their mutual loathing.
'Your mother...' Bastiano started, and then, perhaps wisely, chose not to continue-though that did not stop Raul.
'Are you going to tell me to respect her wishes?' Raul sneered. 'You knew she had this money-you knew...' He halted, but only because his voice was close to faltering and he would not allow Bastiano to glimpse weakness.
He would beat Bastiano with more than his fists.
Raul cleared his throat and delivered his threat, low but strong, and for Bastiano's ears only. 'Collect promptly...pay slowly.'
It was an old Italian saying, but it came with different meaning on this day.
Bastiano might have collected promptly today, but he would pay.
And slowly.
Their eyes met, and though nothing further was said it was as if Raul had repeated those words and he watched as his threat sank in.
Raul would keep his word-the vow he had made by his mother's grave.
Every day he would fight Bastiano-not with fists but with action, and so, to the chagrin of the gathered crowd, who wanted the day to end in blood, Raul walked away.
Bastiano might have got a payout today, but Raul would take his mother's inheritance and build a life from it far away from here.
And in the process he would destroy Bastiano at every opportunity.
Revenge would be his motivator now.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LYDIA KNEW EXACTLY where she was even before her eyes had opened.
There was constant awareness of him, even in sleep. Hearing his deep breathing and feeling his warm, sleeping body beside her, Lydia thought it was the nicest awakening she had ever had.
She chose not to stretch, or pull herself out of this slumberous lull. The mattress felt like a cloud, and the room was the perfect temperature, because even with the bedding around her waist she was warm.
Raul's back did not make pleasant viewing.
Oh, it was muscled, and his shoulders were wide, and his black hair narrowed neatly into the nape of his neck. All was perfect except for the scars.
And there were a lot of them.
There was the ugly, thick vertical one that was untidy and jagged and ran from mid-shoulder to waist.
But there were others that ran across his back.
Thin white lines...row upon row.
She had asked him about his back last night.
Lydia lay there trying to recall his answer.
There hadn't been one.
And she did not ask with words this time-instead with touch, for while she had been looking at his back her fingers had inadvertently gone there.
Raul felt the question in her touch and loathed the fact that he had fallen to sleep on his side, and he rolled onto his back.
'I'm sorry I asked,' Lydia said.
'Then why did you?'
'Because when I'm with you I seem to forget to be polite.'
A phone rang, and this time it wasn't Lydia's. The battery had finally given out.
Raul reached over and swore, even before he had answered the call and then he spoke for a few minutes and lay back down-but this time he faced her.
'We overslept.'
'What time is it?'
'Midday.'
Lydia's eyes widened in surprise. 'Did you miss your plane?'
'No, it is missing me. That's why Allegra rang. She's going to reschedule.'
He stared at her and Lydia found out then why she had thrown herself at him last night.
It was the correct response to those black eyes, Lydia realised, because her desire was still the same.
'Sorry I didn't tell you I was a virgin.'
'It's a miracle you still are.'
She didn't want to be, though.
How heavenly to be made love to by him, Lydia thought, though she said not a word.
He reached out a hand and moved her hair back from her face, and still nothing was said. Lydia liked sharing this silent space with him.
No demands-just silence.
He thought again of all she'd told him-how she had sat at breakfast yesterday and given him that dark piece of her past.
And they were back in that place, together again, only this time it was Raul who spoke.
'I got into a fight at my mother's funeral. At the cemetery.'
'Oh, dear.'
She smiled-not a happy one, just a little smile at their differences.
And he gave a thin smile too.
'With whom?' Lydia asked.
'Her lover.'
And it was at that moment, when he didn't name Bastiano, that Raul, for the first time, properly lied.
Oh, last night it had technically been a lie by omission. She had been angry and confused and there had been good reason for him not to disclose. But now they were in bed together, facing each other and talking as if they were lovers, and Raul knew at his base that he should at that moment have told her.
Yet he did not want her to turn away.
Which she would.
Of course she would.
'When did you find out that your mother was having an affair?' Lydia asked.
'Right after she died,' Raul said. 'I didn't believe it at first. My mother was very religious-when she was a girl, growing up she had hoped to be a nun...'
'Why didn't she?'
'She got pregnant at sixteen.'
'With you? By your father?'
'Of course.' Raul gave a nod. 'It wasn't a happy marriage, I knew that, but I was still surprised...' He didn't finish.
'To find that she cheated?' Lydia asked, and watched his eyes narrow at her choice of words.
'I think my mother was the one who was cheated.' He thought of Bastiano's slick charm and the inheritance that he had ensured was signed over to his name.
'Or,' Lydia pondered out loud, 'maybe she fell in love.'
'Please!' Raul's voice was derisive, but more at Lydia's suggestion than at her. And then he told her something. 'She was used. I hate that man.'
'Do you ever see him?' Lydia asked. 'Her lover?'
'On occasion,' Raul admitted. 'I have made it my mission to take from him, to get there first, to beat him at everything...' It was the reason he was here at the Hotel Grande Lucia. Usually he would be ringing Allegra, drafting an offer to put to Alim.
Yet he had slept until midday.
And that need to conquer had been the real reason for pulling back last night.
Lydia deserved far better than that.
And it was there again-the chance to tell her just who Bastiano was, here and now, in bed, during the most intimate conversation of his life-for Raul never usually discussed such things.
But he didn't tell.
There was no need for that.
And anyway she would be gone soon. So Raul kissed her instead.
It was a different kiss from last night-they knew more about each other now than then-but it did not last for long.
Raul knew his own reputation, and that it wouldn't be changing any time soon, and so he pulled back.
She was dismissed.
Yet still they lingered in bed.
'What are you going to do with the rest of your day?' he asked her.
'I'm going to head home while I've still got one. I'll see if I can transfer my flight to today,' Lydia said. 'I want to tell my mother-away from Maurice-that I'm moving out.'
'Good,' Raul said. 'You need to...' He halted. It was not his place to tell her what to do.
'I know what I need to do, Raul.'
She closed her eyes for a moment and thought of the mountain in front of her that she was about to climb-walking out on the family business, forging a career of her own, finding somewhere to live with nothing.
Yet there was excitement there too.
It was time.
And that made her smile.
'What will you do today?' Lydia asked.
Raul thought for a moment-the weekend spread out before him, and really he could take his pick.
Allegra was waiting for Raul to call with his amended schedule.
There were parties and invitations galore-particularly as he was known to be in Rome. And yet whatever he chose Raul knew it could not top last night.
'I'll go home,' Raul said.
'And where's that?' Lydia asked.
'Venezia.'
Venice.
Lydia gave a wistful sigh, but then, so contrary were her memories from there, she screwed up her nose just a fraction-and he saw that she did.
To cover herself, and because she could not take him delving deep this morning, she quickly chose laughter and gave him a dig in his ribs.
'You never told me that you lived there.'
'Why would I?'
'When I was talking about it you never let on...' And then she halted, remembering that Raul owed her no explanations-they danced on the edge of the other, revealing only what they chose. 'I'm not very good at being a one-night stand.'
'No,' he agreed with a wry smile, 'you're not.' And then his smile dimmed, but still his eyes held hers and Raul asked a question. 'Would you have regretted it if we had slept together?'
'No.' Lydia shook her head. 'Raul, you seem to have decided that just because I haven't slept with anyone I'm looking for something permanent. By all accounts I could have had that with Bastiano, but I chose not to. He's not...' Lydia faltered and then, rather than finishing, swallowed her words down. Raul didn't need to hear them. The truth was she had no feelings for Bastiano.
None.
Yet she did for Raul.
'Not what?' Raul asked.
He's not you would be her honest response.
But rather than say that Lydia was far more evasive. 'He's not what I want.'
'What do you want?'
'I wanted what every woman wants, a bit of romance while I was here. I'm not shopping for a husband.' She gave a shrug and pulled one of the tangled sheets from the bed to cover herself. 'I'm going to have a shower.'