Page 11

Gabe blinked.

Of all the people who had spoken about his loss, and there were many, not one had met his own thoughts.

Or said how it was worse because they’d been happy.

That they’d been enjoying themselves.

All true.

But he stared into those blue eyes and knew that she had immediately understood how much the truth could hurt.

For Gabe, happy was a dangerous place, a complacent place, one where all could be taken in a moment, and one he chose not to visit.

‘What did your parents fight about?’ he asked.

‘Everything,’ she admitted. ‘Then they divorced and it got worse. They fought about everything, from the house down to some antique bedhead, from access to child maintenance—they both decided they wanted me and went to court to prove how much.’

‘That must have been hard.’

‘To be honest…’ She paused, because Stella rarely was honest about things such as this, so terrified of rejection that she kept things bright rather than burdensome. But he had shared, and they would never meet again, the meal was almost done, and so she let slightly gloomy Stella out for just a moment. ‘It was harder when the fighting stopped.’

‘Oh?’

There was a question in his voice, one that invited her to go on, and their eyes met for a second, and though she wanted to go on, even felt she could go on, she didn’t want to end this gorgeous balmy night on a negative.

* * *

Gabe watched her curls move as she gave a small shake of her head, one that told him she didn’t want to go there. And for a man who chose not to feel, he sensed her deep hurt.

‘So,’ he said, letting it go while still holding her gaze. ‘What’s this movie about?’

Stella grimaced. While grateful for the change of subject, she had to refuse the topic again. ‘I really can’t say.’

Those sexy lips of his pouted a little, and the eyes that met hers smouldered—clearly, where women were concerned, he was oh, so used to getting his way. It made her want to lean forward and just tell him everything.

‘Go on,’ he said. ‘I can keep a secret.’

‘I honestly can’t.’ She laughed, a shrill, almost nervous laugh, only she wasn’t nervous, it was more from thrill. ‘And you can’t worm it out of me.’

Anyway, the meal was over, their plates being cleared.

‘Have you found any alternative locations?’

‘No,’ She picked up her glass and took the last sip of her drink. ‘If you can’t already tell, I’m pretty new to this. Sir Charles possibly has too much faith in me. He said fresh eyes were needed but…’ she gave a slight helpless shrug ‘… I don’t know the first thing about the Amalfi Coast.’

He stared.

‘I was going to hire a car and look around.’

‘Please don’t do that.’

‘No.’ She laughed. ‘That was what Sir Charles said. Well, he seemed to think I should know not to do that already, that the roads here are treach—’ Abruptly, she halted mid-word and pressed her lips closed, and he knew she was thinking about how his family had died. ‘Sorry.’

‘No need.’ He signalled the waiter, called for the dessert menu.

‘Not for me.’ She shook her head.

‘Coffee, or…’