‘That you have a week ahead of being the perfect maid of honour?’
‘Yes.’
‘And so one night of fun would be almost like a reward upfront?’
She laughs now, the sound low and breathy. ‘Yes, but that was before I knew who you were.’
‘Is who I am a problem?’
She steps back, the shake of her head weak. ‘You know it is. It complicates things.’
‘Not if we keep it discreet.’
‘You make it sound so simple.’
‘It is that simple.’
She wets her lips, the sheen that now covers them luring me closer.
‘If you’re as affected by this as I am, we can’t go on...what is the word you English favour...pussyfooting?’
‘Pussyfooting?’ I love how her lips quirk at the corners, her eyes sparkle.
‘Si.’ I carry on walking towards her as she continues back, the wall only a few steps away. She’s running out of space, but I don’t need much more. ‘I say we satisfy this need here and now.’
‘Now? But your mother—’
‘Can wait a few more minutes.’
Her brows lift and her eyes sparkle more. ‘Minutes?’
‘I’ll sort her room issues before she has to sleep another night in her current one. As for her...loneliness, if she wants to choose someone respectable to join her, I have no issue with it.’
‘And that’s what you’ll tell her?’ She’s pressed up against the wall now, her palms flat against it, her chest rising and falling with each elevated breath.
‘I will.’ I plant a hand onto the wall above her head and look down into eyes that are so blue, so hot, so fiery. ‘Happy?’
She gives a soft scoff. ‘It’s not me you need to ask.’
‘Marianna will be happy with whatever I tell her.’
‘Do you always call her by her name?’ Her sudden frown takes me aback. ‘Never Mum or Mamma?’
‘Mum? Mamma?’ I almost choke at the suggestion, thrown by the very idea, let alone the oddity, of her question. And then I realise she’s still probing, still trying to understand the Perez family better, to understand me better. ‘It bothers you?’
Her stare is bold as she works hard to read me and I fight the urge to look away. I refuse to be scared of what she might see: the truth.
‘I just can’t imagine calling my mother by her first name.’
‘Then you clearly have a very different relationship.’
‘Had.’ It blurts out of her and her cheeks lose some of their colour.
Cazzo. ‘Had?’
‘She died a couple of years back.’
‘I am so sorry.’ Her crystal blues swim with pain but she doesn’t look away; she doesn’t hide it from me. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any upset.’