LITMIR.BIZ

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It was pointless adding that spending real time with Massimo was Jimmy’s greatest wish. It was his parents’ greatest wish too.

      Massimo thought the gift of his money was enough. When he’d made his fortune, he’d bought his entire family new homes of their own and a car each. As his wealth had increased so had his generous gifts to them. It had been Massimo who’d paid for the private treatment during Jimmy’s first diagnosis and all the associated costs including the agency fees for Livia’s wages as his live-in nurse. It was Massimo who had bought the island his grandfather came from and spent a fortune building a complex for the entire family to stay on. It was Massimo footing the bill for the cruise the rest of the family were taking with Jimmy to reach the island. He’d chartered an ocean liner for their sole use.

      Yet for all his generosity, he was spectacularly blind to the fact his family would much rather have his presence than his presents. He also seemed blind to the fact that time was running out for his grandfather.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘You’ll leave your laptop and phone switched off?’

      ‘You know I can’t do that.’

      ‘I know you won’t do that.’

      His jaw clenched. ‘We can talk about this later.’

      She laughed mockingly. ‘Later. Of course. Everything is always later with you, isn’t it?’

      Without any warning, Massimo slammed his fist against the panel beside his seat. ‘And everything still has to be now with you. I said we could talk once I have completed my work but, as always, you don’t listen. This is important and needs my attention. If you can’t wait patiently for me to finish then I suggest you take yourself to the bedroom and give your mouth a rest.’

      Massimo refused to feel guilt for his outburst, even when Livia’s face paled before him.

      True to form, she refused to let him get the last word, getting to her feet slowly and glowering at him. ‘If anyone has a problem with listening it’s you. If it doesn’t involve your precious work then it’s insignificant to you. It’s been four months since you last saw me and you haven’t even cared to ask how I’ve been. If I’d had any doubts that leaving you was the best thing I could do, an hour in your company has proven me right. You never cared for me. You’ve never cared for anyone.’

      She walked away, not to the bedroom but to her original seat. There was dignity in the way she moved that, despite the acrimony that thickened the air between them, touched him. Livia was a strange mix of toughness and vulnerability, traits that had first moved him then infuriated him. Her toughness meant she did not know how to back down from an argument but the underlying vulnerability found her easily wounded. He’d never known the words to say to repair the wounds he’d unwittingly inflicted on her. Eventually he’d stopped trying.

      Her partition rose and she disappeared from sight.

      Massimo sighed his relief and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours and was exhausted.

      Ringing the bell, he ordered a fresh coffee when the stewardess appeared. Caffeine and sugar would keep him awake long enough to get his analysis done. Maybe then he’d be able to catch some sleep.

      He tuned out Livia’s husky voice when the stewardess turned her attention to his wife.

      But he couldn’t tune out her presence.

      The data on the screen before him blurred. His head felt so heavy. All of him felt heavy, a weight compressing him from the top down and, even with the importance of the work that needed to be done, he found his thoughts drifting to the early days of their marriage, days when he’d believed nothing could come between them.

      Nothing had come between them. Only themselves.

      Livia tried to concentrate on the movie she’d selected from the thousands stored on the in-flight entertainment system—a system Massimo had had installed for her benefit—but the storyline passed her by in a haze. The first movie, a comedy, had passed her by too. This second one was a critically acclaimed thriller guaranteed to keep her tear ducts intact but, even with the sound on her headphones turned up high to drown out the incessant tapping of Massimo’s fingers on his keyboard, he was all she could think about.

      How had it come to this? How could a marriage formed with such passion and joy disintegrate into such bitterness?

      Movement caught her attention and she removed her headphones and straightened as the head stewardess approached to see if she would like anything.

      ‘A blanket would be nice, thanks,’ she replied. The air-conditioning on Massimo’s jet was always set to freezing.

      The blanket delivered, Livia was suddenly struck by the cabin’s silence.

      Lowering her partition, she looked across at Massimo.

      He’d fallen asleep.

      His laptop was still open but the man himself was fast asleep, upright in his seat, his mouth slightly open as he breathed in and out heavily.

      A tightness formed in her chest as she watched until, without thinking, she got to her feet and padded over to him.

      For a long time, hardly daring to breathe, she drank in the features of the man she had once loved so much. His Fijian ancestry was stronger in him than in his sister. His skin was a deep olive, his thick hair the most beautiful shade of ebony. She’d liked it when he forgot to cut it, and had spent many happy hours snuggled on the sofa with him, Massimo talking, his head on her lap, Livia content to simply listen to his wonderful rich, deep voice and run her fingers through his hair. It was the closest to peace she had ever felt in her life.

      She’d tried so hard to hold onto what they had but he had slipped away from her with the same ease her fingers had run through his hair.

      Her throat closed, Livia carefully draped the blanket she’d been about to use for herself on his lap. She wanted to press the button that would tilt the chair back and turn it into a bed but was afraid the motion would wake him. Struck again by the dark circles around his eyes, she wondered when he’d last had a decent night’s sleep. Or the last time he’d had a decent meal.

      The compulsion to reach out her hand and stroke her fingers over his high cheekbones, to feel the texture of his skin on hers, to run her fingers through his hair…it all hit her so fast that her hand was inches from his face before she realised what she was about to do and stopped herself.

      Her heart thumped wildly and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.

      Putting her hand to her chest, she backed away, afraid to be this close to him.

      Afraid of what it did to her.

      Massimo’s eyes opened with a start.

      He blinked rapidly, disorientated.

      His laptop was still open but had put itself into sleep mode.

      Had he fallen asleep?

      Getting to his feet to stretch his legs, he felt a sudden chill on his thighs and gazed down in astonishment at the blanket that had fallen to the floor.

      Where had that come from?

      He stared over at Livia. Her partition was still up but, standing, he could see her clearly. She’d reclined her chair and was watching something on the television with her headphones in. A blanket covered her whole body up to her chin.

      ‘Did you put a blanket on me?’ He didn’t mean to sound so accusatory but the thought of her doing that…

      Her face turned towards him and she pulled the headphones off. ‘Did you say something?’

      Before

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