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was not your fault. It was no one’s fault. It was just a tragic accident. You know that.’

      ‘I wasn’t talking about your father’s death.’

      His muscle moved again. ‘Miscarriages are another fact of life, just like old age, Maya,’ he said, barely moving his lips to speak. ‘They are far more common than you think.’

      Maya felt hot colour crawling beneath her skin and turned away again in case he noticed. ‘If we resume living together it will only complicate and ultimately prolong our divorce,’ she said after a slight pause. ‘Everyone’s hopes will be raised and then dashed again once we…go ahead with it in the end…’

      ‘I realise that is something we will have to deal with,’ he said. ‘But, for the time being, I believe this is the best course of action.’

      Maya faced him again with a lip curl of scorn. ‘Why? Because it’s going to give you more time to work out a way to keep your assets safe?’

      He stared her down. ‘You never used to be so cynical.’

      She lifted her chin. ‘I grew up, Giorgio. Life’s repeated punches have a habit of doing that.’

      He moved away to look out over the immaculate gardens as she had done moments earlier. His hands too, she noticed, were white-knuckled as he gripped not the balustrade as she had done, but the back of the wrought iron chair of the outdoor setting at least a metre away from the edge. Maya knew his fear of heights disgusted him, even though he had suffered from it since childhood. She had only found out about it by accident. He would never have told her, which said rather a lot about their relationship, she thought. He saw his fear as a weakness he had to conquer. Countless times, she had seen him fight with himself to overcome his primal reaction. His doggedness had at times both impressed her and frustrated her in equal measure. She had so often wanted to help him but he would push her away as if she had come too close, as if she would be the one to push him over the edge of the dark abyss he dreaded so much.

      ‘I want my grandfather to die a peaceful death,’ Giorgio said after a long taut silence. ‘I will do anything to achieve it.’

      Maya mentally ticked the box marked ‘ruthless’. Giorgio would think nothing of doing whatever it took to get what he wanted, including resuming a relationship with a wife he had never loved and didn’t really want now she had failed to live up to expectations, to use a particularly relevant word. He would no doubt live the lie, playing pretend while he got on with his affair with his gorgeous lingerie model.

      Maya knew from experience that the press got it wrong a lot of times, but not all of the time. That was the thing that had plagued her the most. The ‘no smoke without fire’ thing had niggled at her the whole time they were married. Giorgio had always denied the occasional dalliances the press reported, but her doubts and fears had still risen to the surface like oil on water. She had waded for five years through the cloying stickiness, trying to cling to the hope that the conception and subsequent birth of a child would cement their tenuous union.

      It had never happened.

      She slid a hand over the flat plane of her belly, her heart giving a tight aching contraction.

      It might still not happen…

      Giorgio turned from the chair as someone came out onto the balcony. ‘Luca,’ he said with a forced on-off smile. ‘I didn’t see you come in.’

      Luca, his younger brother by two years, gave him a ready smile that lit his dark brown eyes from behind. ‘We arrived late,’ he said. ‘Ella was a bit late having her afternoon sleep.’

      He turned to Maya and bent to kiss her on both cheeks. ‘It’s so good you came tonight, Maya,’ he said. ‘Bronte will be glad of someone to talk to. She was feeling rather nervous about practising her Italian in front of everyone.’

      Maya smiled shakily. ‘She has no need to be,’ she said. ‘Everyone adores her and gorgeous little Ella.’

      Luca smiled proudly. ‘We have an announcement to make…’ His expression faltered for a second before he continued, ‘I’m sorry, this might not be the news you two want to hear, but we are expecting another baby.’

      A silence thickened the air for a nanosecond.

      Maya was the first to respond. ‘Luca, that’s truly wonderful news. I am so happy for you both. When is it due?’

      ‘I’m not sure,’ Luca said, looking a bit sheepish. ‘We’ve only just done one of those home kit tests. It’s all still a little bit unreal, to be frank.’

      Tell me about it, Maya thought wryly.

      Giorgio gave his brother a firm handshake, anchoring it with a grasp of Luca’s forearm. ‘I am very pleased for you. It will be delightful to have another niece or nephew to spoil.’

      Luca appeared relieved his announcement had gone down so well. ‘So,’ he said, still smiling, his eyes this time full of intrigue. ‘What are you two doing out here all alone?’

      Another silence hovered like humidity before a storm.

      Giorgio was the first to break it. ‘Maya and I have an announcement of our own to make.’ He put his arm around her waist and drew her into his side. ‘We have decided to reconcile. There will be no divorce.’

      Maya’s eyes flew to his, her mouth opening but nothing coming out. The weight of his arm around her waist was like a chain, tying her to him just as effectively as his words.

      Luca looked from one to the other with a spreading smile. ‘That’s wonderful news. Have you told Nonno? It will be the best birthday present for him.’

      Giorgio smiled smugly. ‘We are just about to do so now, aren’t we, cara?’ he said, looking down at Maya.

      Maya wanted to deny it. She wanted to tell Luca his brother was a manipulating, ruthless man who would stop at nothing to keep what he wanted in his possession. But she knew if she did it would quite possibly ruin Salvatore’s party. The old man was dying and Luca was right: the announcement of the reconciliation between his eldest grandson and his estranged wife would make his day.

      Instead, she gave Luca a weak smile. ‘It’s all happened so suddenly…’

      Luca grinned at his brother. ‘I have to tell Bronte. She’ll be so thrilled. This calls for more champagne.’

      He picked up Giorgio’s empty glass and then moved to where Maya had left her half-drunk orange juice. He picked it up and, after a moment, turned and looked at her quizzically. ‘Not currently on the hard stuff, Maya?’

      Maya felt the weight of Giorgio’s gaze. ‘I…I guess over the years I’ve got used to not drinking,’ she said.

      ‘You will have to make up for it tonight,’ Luca said and, with another beaming smile, left through the French windows to find his young wife and child.

      ‘Luca is right,’ Giorgio said after what seemed an endless pause. ‘This is indeed a night for celebration.’

      Maya threw him a barbed glare. ‘How could you lie to your own brother like that? This is a farce and you know it.’

      He gave a movement of his mouth that communicated total indifference to her opinion. ‘This is about making my grandfather’s last weeks or months of life as comfortable and happy as possible,’ he said. ‘You said you wanted the villa at Bellagio.’ He gave her an indomitable look and added, ‘Believe me, Maya, this is the only way you are going to get it.’

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