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“Next time bring some goddamn grass.” He refilled his glass, not caring that he splashed half of it onto the tray as he poured. He took a swig, then curled his hands around Savannah’s hips. They began another slow, sexual dance. Isabel decided it was a good thing she hadn’t eaten, because anything she’d swallowed would have come right back up.

“You want to dance?” Larry asked, more because he felt sorry for her, she was certain, than from any desire to move beyond the couch. She shook her head.

One of Ren’s hands curved around Savannah’s bottom. Savannah tilted her face and parted her lips. That was all the encouragement Ren needed, and he dove right in.

Isabel had seen enough. She rose purposefully from the couch and gathered up her shawl. Then she spoke just loudly enough so she could be heard over the music. “Ren, would you step outside with me for a moment?”

An uneasy silence fell over the room. Ren slowly disengaged himself from Savannah’s lips. “Don’t be a drag,” he drawled.

“Yes, well, Drag is my middle name, and this won’t take long.”

He picked up his drink, looking bored and very drunk, took a deep swig, then set it down. “All right, let’s get this over with.” As he made his way unsteadily toward the doors that led to the loggia, he lit another cigarette.

Which she promptly snatched from his mouth as soon as they were outside.

“Hey!”

She stomped it out. “Kill yourself on your own time.”

He bristled with drunken belligerence. “I’ll kill myself any goddamn time I want.”

“I’m so annoyed with you.”

“You’re annoyed?”

“Did you expect me to be happy?” She drew her shawl tighter. “You’ve actually given me a headache. As for eating… I couldn’t swallow a bite.”

“I’m way too drunk to care.”

“You’re not drunk. Those drinks were mainly ice, and you spilled every time you poured. If you want to walk away from me, just come out and say so.”

His lips tightened. The drunken swagger faded, and his speech rang clear as a bell. “All right. I want to walk away.”

She gritted her teeth. “You have no idea what you want.”

“Who says?”

“I do. And right now I seem to be the only one of us even remotely in touch with our feelings.”

“Did you open your eyes in there?” He jabbed his hand toward the doorway, and his words shot out like bullets. “That’s my real life. This time in Italy has been a vacation. Don’t you get it?”

“That’s not your real life. It might have been at one time, but not now. Not for a while. That’s what you want me to believe is your real life.”

“I live in freakin’ L.A.! Women tuck their panties in my pockets when I go to clubs. I have too much money. I’m shallow and egotistical. I’d sell my fucking grandmother for a Vanity Fair cover.”

“You also have a potty mouth. But nobody’s perfect. I can be starchy.”

Starchy?” He looked like he was going to erupt. He took a step toward her, gritting his teeth. “You listen to me, Isabel. You think you know everything. Well, try this on for size. Suppose what you’re saying is true? Suppose I invited them here-went through all this-just to show you it’s over. Don’t you get it? The bottom line stays exactly the same. I’m trying to get rid of you.”

“Obviously.” She couldn’t quite keep the quiver out of her voice. “The question is, why put yourself through all this to do it?Why not just give me a ‘hasta la vista, baby’? You know what I think? I think you’re scared. Well, so am I. Do you think I’m comfortable with this relationship?”

“How the hell should I know what you think? I don’t understand anything about you. But I do know this: When you put a saint and a sinner together, you’re asking for trouble.”

“A saint?” She couldn’t take it anymore. “Is that really what you think I am? A saint?”

“Compared to me, you sure as hell are. You’re a woman who needs to have all her ducks in a row. You don’t even like having your hair messed up. Look at me. I’m chaos! Everything about my life is insane. And I like it that way.”

“You’re not that bad.”

“Well, I’m no walk in the park, sister.”

She hugged herself. “We care about each other, Ren. You can try all you want to deny it, but we really care.” Her feelings weren’t shameful, and she wouldn’t treat them as if they were. Still, she had to take a deep breath before she could go on. “I more than care. I’ve fallen in love with you. And I’m definitely not happy about it.”

He didn’t bat so much as an eyelash. “Come on, Isabel, you’re smart enough to know what’s going on. It’s not really love. You’re a woman who has ‘savior’ plastered all over you. You see me as a big rescue project.”

“Is that so? Well, what exactly am I supposed to rescue? You’re talented and competent. You’re one of the most intelligent men I’ve ever known. Despite that little soap opera you wanted me to believe, you’re not a womanizer, you don’t do drugs, and I’ve never seen you drunk. You’re great with children in your own bizarre way. You have steady employment and the respect of your peers. Even your ex-wife likes you. Other than a weakness for nicotine and a foul mouth, I don’t get what’s so terrible about you.”

“You wouldn’t. You’re so blind to people’s faults it’s a wonder you’re still allowed outside without a leash.”

“The fact is, you’re afraid of what’s happening between us, but instead of trying to work through it, you decided to behave like an idiot. And as soon as you get inside, you’d better scrub your mouth and brush your teeth to get rid of that woman’s germs. You also need to apologize to her. She’s a very unhappy woman, and it wasn’t right to use her the way you were.”

He shut his eyes and spoke in a whisper: “God, Isabel…”

The moon slithered from under a cloud, casting angular shadows over his face. He looked tortured and somehow defeated. “The scene in there. It isn’t all that much of an exaggeration.”

She resisted the urge to touch him. She couldn’t solve this for him. He had to work it through, either his own way or not at all. “I’m sorry. I know how sick you are of living like that.”

He made a soft, almost inaudible sound and pulled her hard against him, but she barely felt the heat of his body before he released her.

“I have to go to Rome tomorrow,” he said.

“Rome?”

“Howard Jenks is there now finalizing locations.” He patted his hip, searching for a missing cigarette pack. “Oliver Craig is flying in-the Brit who’s playing Nathan-and Jenks wants us to read together. We’ve got costume fittings, some makeup tests. I promised to do a couple of interviews. I’ll be back in time for the feast.”

The feast was a week away. “I’m sure Anna will appreciate that.”

“In there”-he tilted his head toward the house-“you didn’t deserve that. I just… You needed to understand, that’s all. I’m sorry.”

And so was she. More than he could imagine.

22

Tracy’s eyes filled with hormone-driven tears. “Have I said thank you for giving Harry back to me?” “Several times.”

“If it hadn’t been for you…”

“The two of you would have worked it out. All I did was speed up the process.”

She wiped her eyes. “I don’t know. Until you came along, we weren’t having a lot of luck. Connor, keep the ball away from the flowers.”

Connor looked up from the soccer ball he was rolling around in the tiny garden behind the Briggs house in Casalleone and grinned at them. One side of the yard sloped toward a row of houses on the street beneath, the other toward a section of the old Roman wall that used to surround the town.

“Ren left for Rome today,” Isabel said, the hollow place inside her aching. “He wants to get rid of me.”