Luca's Bad Girl - By Amy Andrews Page 0,38

she announced to his back. ‘Check that Evie hasn’t slipped into an alcoholic coma. And you have a lot to organise today.’

Luca frowned as he filled the percolator with water. ‘Organise?’

‘Flights, time off work, packing.’

‘Flights?’

It was Mia’s turn to frown. ‘For the funeral? I’m sorry, I assumed your grandmother lived in Italy? Is she here in Sydney?’

He hadn’t told her that. But, then, why would he? They didn’t … chat. They’d had sex a few times. That’s what they did. That’s all they did.

Until last night.

And it was why they were over now. Now that their relationship had evolved to a level of emotional intimacy neither of them wanted.

Luca flipped the switch on the coffee machine and turned to face her, his hands gripping the bench behind him, his knuckles white. ‘I’m not going to the funeral.’

Mia blinked. ‘What?’

‘I’m not going,’ he repeated.

‘But … I thought you said you were close to your grandmother?’

Her yearning for a grandmother of her own, someone who could have softened the harsh realities of her childhood, been a buffer even, returned as Mia struggled to understand what Luca was saying.

Luca nodded. ‘I am.’ He raked a hand through his hair as he realised what he’d said. ‘I was … I haven’t been back to Italy since the day I left and, trust me, no one in my family wants me to return.’

The edge of bitterness in his voice surprised Mia and instead of turning and walking to the door, which would have been the wisest course of action, she wandered closer to the kitchen.

‘No one?’

He nodded grimly. ‘Sicilians have long memories.’

Mia slid onto one of the stools, the urge to comfort him as strong as it had been last night despite his keep-out expression. ‘Look, I don’t know what happened with you and your family—’

She held up a hand as he opened his mouth to interrupt. He looked like he was going to tell her to mind her own damn business, which was fine by her. Apart from knowing he’d left Marsala at the age of sixteen, he hadn’t told her about his past or the fact that he’d never been back.

And she didn’t want to know. That wasn’t what they were about—it was nothing to do with her.

Except she understood. She understood how things could be so bad that you’d never go back. How many times had she visited her mother in the last five years? Half a dozen? And how long ago had she given up on trying to keep in contact with a father who had moved on to a new family after the woman he’d loved had totally destroyed his old one?

‘I don’t want to know, Luca, but it was a long time ago, yeah? Maybe things are better now?’

Out of habit or manners, Luca poured two coffees and pushed one towards her. Even though he didn’t want her to stay. He could see empathy in her gaze and wanted no part of it. They were just about sex—nothing else. Sex was all he did. He’d lost his head for a little while, but not any more.

‘They’re not.’

Mia stared down into the thick dark coffee—the colour of Luca’s eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured.

He shrugged. ‘It’s the way it is.’

Mia looked up sharply. She could see regret in his espresso gaze and hear a slight rawness to his accent. And suddenly she was mad. Damn it! Why was it that way? Why was he still being made to suffer twenty odd years later—this was his family. What had he done that had been so bad? Why did she feel guilty about not keeping her family together, about not keeping in contact when neither of her parents bothered? Why should she give a damn when they didn’t?

‘You should go,’ she said.

Luca saw something glittering in her stained-glass-window eyes. They shone with an intense brightness that for a second looked almost like tears. But then it crystallised into determination.

He shook his head. ‘Some things are better left alone, Mia.’

Mia shook her head emphatically. ‘No, damn it! She was your grandmother and you loved her. And you need to go to her funeral and to hell with what everyone else thinks. You need this for you, Luca. You deserve this. Don’t let them take this from you because of some stupid ancient history.’

Luca wasn’t entirely sure that this passion was all about him and his predicament but he appreciated the sentiment. It was surprisingly good to have someone on his side in this whole