Автор: Fiona Harper
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474069090
isbn:
He reached out and pulled the scrap towards him, careful not to brush her fingers. From the thick, riotous turquoise crayon that graced the sheet of paper, he could tell the colouring was Sofia’s, but the drawing, that was all Ruby’s. He smiled as he looked at it.
She’d drawn one of the crabs they’d caught that afternoon in dark ink. The little crab hanging on the end of the fishing line looked full of personality, feisty and ready to take on the world if anyone dared try to catch him and tame him. It really was rather good.
‘I think you caught him perfectly,’ he said, and made the mistake of looking up at her. ‘You’ve got that devilish expression down pat.’
She didn’t say anything. Just smiled. And her eyes warmed further.
Max returned his attention to his plate.
He forced himself to remember the conversation that had taken place round this dinner table only a few evenings ago. It didn’t matter how nice her eyes were, or how relaxed he felt around her, it would be foolishness in the highest degree to be bewitched by that.
Ruby Lange was a drifter. She’d said so herself. She didn’t finish what she started, always tempted to run after something better and brighter and shinier.
He didn’t need a woman like that in his life. He’d seen what his mother had done to his father, hadn’t he?
He returned his gaze to his plate.
Pork. They were eating pork.
He’d do well to keep his mind on concrete things like that. On his work. On his commission, his final gift to the parent who’d stuck around to raise him.
No more distractions, no matter how tempting.
* * *
The following evening Ruby approached dinner with a plan. Max was going home in just under forty-eight hours and still he was treating his mother like the enemy.
However, he’d softened up with Sofia nicely. He no longer held her as if she were an unexploded bomb, and interacted quite easily with her now. Sofia, who maybe had been lacking a positive male role model in her life, simply adored him. It was clear a bond was forming between them.
Surely the potential was there with Fina, too? All he needed was to be thrown in the deep end a bit, as he had been with Sofia.
So Ruby deliberately decided not to natter on at dinner time this evening, hoping it would encourage mother and son to converse. But as they waded their way through the main course, the only sound in the cavernous dining room was the clinking of cutlery and the dull thud of glasses being picked up and set down again.
Fina kept looking at him, willing him to glance her way, but mostly, unless he was reaching for the salt or refilling his glass, Max refused. As the meal wore on Ruby could sense more and more nervous energy in the woman sitting beside her. Fina must sense her chance for reconciliation ticking away with the hours and seconds until Max’s flight back to London. It didn’t seem as if he’d be in a hurry to return any time soon, either.
Eventually, Fina cracked. She put down her knife and fork and stared at him for a few seconds before opening her mouth. ‘Massimo. You’ve been having such a wonderful time here with Sofia these last few days.’
Max glanced up so briefly Ruby doubted he’d even had time to focus on Fina. He grunted then turned his attention to his plate.
Fina shot a nervous look at Ruby and Ruby nodded her encouragement.
‘Ruby’s been telling me all about your crabbing expeditions.’
Another grunt. This time without eye contact.
Fina swallowed. ‘I was thinking that maybe I’d invite the whole family to visit for the festival of San Martino in November. You used to love decorated biscuits of Martino on his horse, remember?’ She laughed. ‘You once asked me if we were cousins of the saint, because our last names were so similar.’
Max carried on cutting his chicken, and only when he’d precisely severed a chunk, put it in his mouth and chewed and swallowed it thoroughly, did he answer his mother. ‘I don’t think I’m going to be able to spare the time from work. If this commission goes through it’ll be full steam ahead until the new year.’ And then he went back to dissecting his meal.
Fina nodded, even though her son wasn’t watching, and hung her head over her plate.
Ruby glared at him. She wanted to fish that little crab they’d met the other day out of the canal and attach it to his nose! He was being so stubborn.
Didn’t he know what a gift this was? Maybe Fina hadn’t been the perfect mother, but she was trying to make up for it now. Surely that had to mean something? And there had to be good reasons why a woman as warm and caring as Fina had walked away from her marriage. She might try and act blasé, but Ruby couldn’t believe she’d done it on a whim, whatever Max might think.
Fina rose from her seat. ‘I promised Renata upstairs that I would look in on her. She’s not been feeling very well,’ she said, and walked stiffly from the room.
Max pushed his plate away. Ruby glared at him. ‘Couldn’t you just even give her a chance?’
He lifted his head and looked at her. His eyes were empty, blank like the statues topping so many of the palazzos nearby. ‘It’s not your business, Ruby. What happens in my family is my concern.’
She stared back at him, words flying round her head. But she released none of them, knowing he was speaking the truth and hating him for it. So much for the bond she’d thought they’d forged over the last few days.
She rose and followed Fina out of the room. ‘Thank you,’ she said as she reached the doorway, ‘for putting me firmly in my place.’
* * *
At least an hour passed before Max emerged from the library. The apartment was totally quiet. Sofia must be fast asleep and he hadn’t heard his mother return from visiting her neighbour.
Everything was dark—well, almost. A few of the wall sconces were lit at the far end of the corridor near the salon. His footsteps seemed loud as he walked down it and entered the large room. In here it was dark, too, with just one lamp turned on near the sofas, making the cavernous space seem smaller and more intimate. He looked for Ruby’s dark head against the cushions, for a hint of a purple streak, but there was no one there.
He was about to turn and leave the room, but then he heard a shuffling noise and noticed the doors to the balcony were open. He could just make out her petite form, leaning on the stone ledge, staring out across the water. Taking in a deep breath, he walked over to the open door and stood in the threshold.
‘I can hear voices,’ she said, her tone bland, ‘and I think it must be someone close by, but there are no windows open upstairs and no boats going by.’
‘It’s just СКАЧАТЬ