Алисон Робертс – Latin Lovers: Italian Husbands: The Italian's Bought Bride / The Italian Playboy's Secret Son / The Italian Doctor's Perfect Family (страница 24)

She glanced at him, saw his eyes on the road, and ventured cautiously, ‘Those men loved you.’

‘They are fathers to me,’ Stefano said. He spoke in a voice that brooked no questions, no comments. Allegra nodded even though her mind seethed with both.

She was ashamed to realize she knew nothing about Stefano’s family. Where was his own father, mother? Did he have brothers or sisters? What kind of childhood, what kind of life, had he had?

She didn’t know.

And, she realized with a rush of surprise, she wished she did. She wished she’d asked when she’d had the chance.

It was too late for that, she thought. Too late for both of them. The only relationship that could exist between them was one of distant professionalism. It was what she’d wanted all along, what she’d insisted on, yet now it made her sad.

Stupid. How could she be wanting something from Stefano now—now—when it was so clear that he wanted to give her nothing? Nothing she needed, anyway.

Finally Stefano turned into a long dirt drive, twisted oak trees shading the lane. Allegra glimpsed a farmhouse on one side of the road, a crude place with its roof caving in. She wondered why Stefano left such an eyesore on his property before her sights and senses were taken with the villa in front of them.

It was not ostentatious, Allegra saw at once, but it possessed every comfort. Begonias and geraniums spilled from hanging baskets and terracotta urns that lined the flagstone path up to the front door.

A young woman with luxuriant dark hair caught up in a bun opened the door and called a welcome. A little boy with the same dark, glossy hair stood next to her, keeping himself close to his mother yet also strangely, inexorably apart.

‘My housekeeper, Bianca,’ Stefano said quietly, ‘and that is Lucio.’

Allegra nodded, saw the boy stare into an unknown—and safe—middle distance. They climbed out of the car and she noticed that the air was sharp and cool, scented with pine and cedar.

‘Bianca.’ Stefano greeted her warmly and Allegra was ashamed to feel a piercing little stab of jealousy. ‘Hello, Lucio.’ He ruffled the boy’s dark hair, but Lucio didn’t look at him, didn’t say a word.

Stefano introduced her to Bianca, who shook her hand and smiled with hopeful gratitude. Allegra crouched down so she was eye-level with Lucio. His eyes didn’t meet hers, but still she smiled as if he were looking at her.

‘Hello, Lucio,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m happy to meet you.’

Lucio didn’t look at her, didn’t acknowledge her at all. It was as if she hadn’t spoken, or even as if she wasn’t even there.

Allegra hadn’t expected him to speak or even look at her, yet his utter indifference betrayed by not even one flicker of understanding was discouraging. Still she remained there, crouched down, for several long moments. She knew Lucio had to be aware of her on some level, and that would have to be enough. For now.

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