‘Please do not cry, Keira,’ he said. ‘Does my presence upset you this much?’
She nodded as another little broken sob escaped. ‘Sorry…I’ll be fine in a minute…’
‘You need feeding,’ he said, signalling for the waiter.
Keira mopped at her eyes as she heard Patrizio order her favourite dish for her, the fragile hold she had on her emotions threatening to slip away again. He might not love her but he hadn’t forgotten what she liked and disliked. Somehow she found that comforting.
‘How are your studies going?’ he asked once the waiter had left. ‘You must be close to finishing.’
‘Yes…’ she said, conscious of the steadiness of his dark gaze. ‘I’ve finished my thesis and it’s been assessed. I’m working on my final portfolio. There’s an exhibition for Masters students held at one of the galleries. It’s a chance to get noticed by the art world.’
‘You have enjoyed the course?’ he asked.
‘Yes, very much,’ she answered. ‘It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.’
‘Are your parents a little more resigned to your career choice?’
She gave him a grim look. ‘I think you know enough about my parents to know they would have preferred me to be doing something a little less controversial.’
‘Controversial?’ His brow creased slightly. ‘What is controversial about being an artist?’
‘You obviously haven’t seen any of my recent work,’ she said with a wry grimace.
His dark eyes twinkled. ‘So you have been milking some very sacred cows have you, cara?’
‘That’s not quite the expression I would have chosen but I guess it will do,’ she conceded. ‘I painted a rather subversive political work. It caused a bit of furore.’
‘With your father or the public?’
‘Both,’ she said. ‘I was at a demonstration and took it with me. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it in the press.’
‘I must have been interstate or overseas at the time,’ he said, frowning slightly. ‘Were you arrested?’
‘Not this time,’ she said. ‘But my father threatened to disinherit me if it happened again.’
Patrizio examined her features for a lengthy moment. ‘Our separation has not helped your relationship with your parents, has it?’ he asked.
She shook her head and began toying with the meal the waiter had set before her moments earlier. ‘No…but then that’s my fault and I accept total responsibility for it.’
Patrizio wondered if she really had. She seemed intent on sticking to her story of not remembering that night, which annoyed him immensely. She had wilfully gone to Merrick’s flat with the intention of resuming her relationship with him. There was no point in pretending she didn’t know how she’d ended up in bed with him. She couldn’t have chosen a more lethal blow to their marriage than that.
‘You do not look like you are enjoying your meal,’ he remarked. ‘Did I choose the wrong thing for you?’
She shook her head and put her cutlery down. ‘No, I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought. My appetite is still not back to normal since I had that bug.’
‘Come,’ he said, pulling her to her feet. ‘We have achieved what we set out to achieve. The press has got their statement from us. We will go home.’
‘But what about your meal?’ Keira asked. ‘Aren’t you going to finish it?’
He handed her his handkerchief, his expression wry. ‘I seem to have lost my appetite as well,’ he said. ‘Besides, it has been a long day. I am ready for bed.’
Bed.
One word.
Three letters.
Keira shivered as his arm came around her waist as he led her from the restaurant.