I probably would have sat there and given in to the misery, but thinking about everything that had happened tonight and how I was only making things worse between me and Luc caused my stomach to revolt. Everything I’d eaten threatened to come right back up, and I only barely made it to the bathroom before it did.
Long minutes later, I was absolutely spent. Pushing myself off the bathroom floor, I splashed water on my face and brushed my teeth. Then I moved into the bedroom and stripped off my clothes in the dark, tugged on an oversized sweatshirt and leggings, wanting only to collapse on the bed and drift into oblivion.
A banging sounded at the front door before I could. I stilled, and my heart rate shot right back up again with the thought it could be Gio, come to finish what he’d threatened in Scotland.
The insistent knocking sounded again, followed by Marco calling, “Natalie? I know you’re in there. I saw you come in from the main house. Open the damn door.”
My shoulders slumped, and my eyes slid closed. He was probably curious about what had happened at dinner, and though I didn’t want to get into it all, I knew he’d never leave if I tried to ignore him.
“Hold on,” I called.
I ran my fingers through my hair as I moved out of the bedroom, then swiped at my cheeks to make sure no remnants of my tears remained. Rolling my shoulders back, I drew a deep breath, then pulled the front door open.
Marco stood on the porch alone. With one look at me, his eyes turned deadly. “Figlio di puttana. He hit you? I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
“No.” Oh God... I grabbed Marco before he could go after Luc and pulled him into the villa. “He didn’t hit me. It wasn’t Luc.”
“Then who did? And don’t try to give me some bullshit excuse because I know what a woman looks like when she’s been hit.”
I closed the door and glanced at my bare feet on the hardwood floor, not wanting to tell him.
“Natalie.” He tipped my chin up with a gentle finger, but his eyes were raging storms when they met mine. “Who hit you?”
“Giovanni.”
A ripple of fear rushed over his features. “Did Luc go after him? I saw him tear out of here like—”
“No. He doesn’t know. He... didn’t even notice.”
“He didn’t notice?” Marco tipped my chin up again so he could see it better in the low light. “One whole side of your face is bright red.”
“Ariana helped me put make up on it. I-I just washed it off.” I stepped away from him, hating being a spectacle. “He wasn’t there when Gio cornered me, and you’re not going to tell him what happened.” I moved to the couch and dropped to the cushions with a miserable sigh. “Oh, Marco. It was awful.”
I knew he wanted nothing more than to go after Luc, but he moved to the side chair and quietly sat. “Tell me.”
I did. I told him everything that happened at dinner. I even told him about Gio and Bonello cornering me in Edinburgh. Since Marco and I hadn’t had a chance to speak alone yet, it was the first time he’d heard what had really happened.
“Mio Dio.” He raked a hand through his thick hair, then rested his forearms on his knees. “I’m so sorry, Natalie. I had no idea.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” I said more strongly so he’d believe it. So I’d believe it too. “I can deal with it. I just… I’m worried about Luc. Tonight was... rough.”
“I know. But you did the right thing.”
I huffed and pressed my hand over my still-burning cheek. “I don’t feel like I did the right thing. I feel like everything I’m doing is making things worse. Luc—”
“Luc’s a stronzo.”
“What’s that?”
“Asshole.”
I smirked. “Ariana said the same thing.”
“She’s a smart girl.”
She was. Way smarter than Luc gave her credit for.
“I’m worried about him.” I met Marco’s gaze. “I don’t know where he went. He’s not thinking clearly after tonight, and I... I wasn’t particularly nice to him in the car when he got mad at me.”
“Let him have it, huh?”
“Yes.” I closed my eyes, fighting back another wave of useless tears. “I should have held my tongue.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” When I looked at him, he said, “Luc’s never responded well to coddling, as I’m sure you know. He needs tough love.”
I knew that well. But tonight, I was afraid my tough love might have pushed him too far.
Marco rose. “I’ve a feeling I know where he went. I’ll make sure he gets home in one piece.”
“Thank you.” I pushed off the couch and followed him to the door. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Felicity. You’ve both been so good to us, and I—”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do. You’re the only person who really believes in Luc.”
“That’s not true. You do. Felicity does as well. So do hundreds of others, only Luc hasn’t wanted to see that. The two of you aren’t alone. I know it’s felt that way up until now, but you’re not. And this isn’t the way it’s going to be forever. We won’t let it be.”
I couldn’t answer. The best I could do was nod.
He moved out onto the porch and down the front steps. When he disappeared into the darkness, heading back up the paved drive toward the main house, I closed the door and moved back to the couch.
My body was exhausted, but my brain was a whir of thoughts and memories I couldn’t ignore. Grabbing the throw from the back of the couch, I pulled it over me and curled onto my side, remembering the night Luc had been lying right here on this couch in the dark, and I’d climbed over him, pinned his arms above his head, and kissed him.
He’d been mad at me that night too. But the moment our lips had touched, everything else had faded away and he’d zeroed in on me as if I was the only thing in the world that mattered to him.
“This isn’t the way it’s going to be forever.”
I closed my eyes and drew in a shaky breath. Marco was right. We loved each other too much to let it all fall apart now. If I believed that, if I held on to that, it had to be true.
4
Luc
I should have known Marco would find me. The son of a bitch had a nose like a radar detector.
I scowled as he slid into the booth across from me at the back of the old pub in Florence where we used to toss back drinks as teens. He eyed the whisky in my hand with raised brows. “Drunk yet?”
“On my way.”
“How many of those have you had?”
“This is my third.”
He lifted a finger for the server. When the middle-aged redhead stalked over, he said, “Gimme what he’s having. Unless it’s cheap shit, then I’ll take Macallan.”
The waitress jotted a note on a pad of paper and slipped away without a word.
“Natalie filled me in on dinner.”
Of course she had. My mood sank darker as I sipped my whisky.
“You’re a minchione, you know that?”