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‘What?’ She stared at him incredulously.

‘Don’t hold back on my account, Lisa. If you’ve got someone else here in England, just tell me.’ His voice sounded hoarse. The cost of exposing his innermost thoughts to her was terrible—far worse than he had expected.

‘Someone else?’ As they stared at each other Lisa saw the expression in Tino’s eyes change. This was not the formidable business opponent she knew, or even the confident man. Those eyes were the eyes of the child who had been locked in a nightmare, the child who had cried out to her in the night. For just those few seconds it was as if all the barricades Tino had raised against the world and against her had disappeared, but he built them up again so fast, she was left wondering if she had imagined it.

He was just as damaged on the inside as she was. He would always wonder if he was capable of feeling anything beyond some fleeting triumph in business. She could only hope he wasn’t destined to remain as numb in his heart as she was. ‘There’s no one else, Tino,’ she said quietly. ‘There never can be anyone.’

‘So, your life will always be empty.’

‘It’s better that way. It would be irresponsible of me to involve anyone in my life, when I have nothing to offer them.’

‘You’re wrong, Lisa.’ Tino spoke from the heart as images of Stella and Arianna, as well as many others, crowded his mind. ‘You have had an empty life, I understand that. But it can get better, I promise you.’

‘You promise me, Tino? What do you promise me? That in time I can learn to care as much as you do?’

She used sarcasm like a shield, and he deserved her cynicism. ‘I admit that I’ve still got a long way to go, but at least I have started the journey—’ He stopped, self-conscious at showing such candour on a subject he was still building up faith in himself. ‘And it’s not that bad.’

Was this feeling currently tearing her apart Tino’s idea of ‘not that bad’? Lisa wondered, drawing a steadying breath. ‘Then, all I can say is, you’re very lucky, Tino…but I know that letting people in can never be for me.’

‘But you were drinking a toast to your new life.’

‘New pastimes, new occupations to run alongside Bond Steel, not a whole raft of personal involvements I know can only end in disaster.’

‘A whole raft?’

For a moment she thought he was trying not to smile—and not in a nasty way, or a point-scoring way. ‘You know what I mean.’ She sounded edgy, and she was. She was determined he wouldn’t turn this back into some sort of emotional ping-pong. She was going to stick to the facts whatever he threw at her.

‘So, tell me about these changes.’

‘I’m not even sure about them myself yet.’ She couldn’t see a hint of a smile on his face now, and was reassured enough to ask, ‘Would you like that drink now?’

‘Before I go?’

He was gently teasing her, Lisa realised, careful to remain unmoved. ‘Yes. Champagne all right for you?’ She glanced at the shelf where all her crystal glasses were lined up in rows.

‘Lalique?’ Tino murmured, but, in case she thought he was impressed, he added wryly, ‘Are they dusty?’

‘I doubt it.’ Lisa smiled a little too now, but she still wasn’t quite sure she was ready for his humour. ‘Vera looks after me too well for anything in here to be dusty.’ She knew what he was getting at. They both had so much, so many material things, but they had no one special to share any of it with.

‘So, come on,’ he pressed, ‘I’m waiting to hear about these changes to your life—’

‘Like I said, I’m not sure, Tino.’

‘I think we’d better drink a general toast,’ he suggested dryly.

Pouring the champagne, Lisa was careful not to touch his hand when she gave him the glass.’

‘To us,’ he said.

‘To us,’ Lisa echoed, staring at him over the rim of her glass. ‘Won’t you sit down?’

She pointed to the sofa where he assumed she had been making herself comfortable when he’d arrived. There was a cosy throw to wrap around her pyjamas flung over the back of it, and a pair of ridiculous fluffy slippers sticking out underneath. And now he saw that he

r feet were bare, and that her toenails looked like perfect pink shells…

Putting his glass down on the table, he looked at her… He could see she wanted to say something. ‘Lisa?’ he prompted. ‘What is it?’

‘About the flowers—’