‘I can’t answer for Roberto who may well have pursued what pleased my father,’ he said sardonically, ‘but I was always interested in design, Skye, and chose my own career.’
Yes, he would, she realised, just as he had chosen to continue a relationship with her, despite his parents’ disapproval. Only damning evidence of the worst infidelity she could have committed had stopped him. Luc was not his father’s tool, yet being so strongly connected to the family business did leave him vulnerable to manipulation, and blood ties were not easily broken.
He felt he’d earned his place, was proud of filling it, probably with distinction—an important cog in the Peretti wheel. He wouldn’t want to walk away from it. Skye suspected he’d fight to keep it, which could mean deadly conflict with his father who would definitely be opposed to the marriage Luc wanted. And she and Matt would be the meat in the sandwich.
Not a happy prospect.
‘I report to my father at boardroom meetings but I don’t work under him,’ Luc tossed at her to elucidate the situation. ‘I have autonomy within my department.’
‘Autonomy…’ Skye seized on that word as though it was a lifeline out of the frightening problems that had been whirling through her brain.
It meant Luc was his own boss. He couldn’t be manipulated where business judgements were concerned. And it was probably faulty reasoning to attach what had happened with the damning photographs to what might develop in his work situation. Emotional judgements were in a far more volatile territory.
‘I’m sorry for implying…you could be pushed around,’ she rushed out, suddenly feeling very much on the wrong foot. ‘I guess your father is…something of a bogey-man to me.’
His face relaxed, his eyes softening to sympathetic understanding. ‘I don’t live in my father’s pocket, Skye. He can’t buy me away from you and Matt.’
Embarrassment—or was it something else? A deep treacherous pleasure?—sent a flood of heat to her cheeks. The commitment—conviction—in his voice, the possessive warmth in his eyes, the unswerving sense of purpose engulfing her…Skye teetered on the edge of giving him her trust, wanting him to take care of everything: her, Matt, the future…
She barely brought herself back from the brink, finding a brittle escape in focusing on the food on her plate, telling herself to keep talking.
Silence was the enemy.
Luc was filling it with temptations.
She was not even clear on why she had to fight them any more.
‘What are you working on at the moment?’ she asked, hoping his answer would be long and distracting.
He obligingly described his current project. The company had bought up old boatyards along the harbour shore at Balmain and Luc was designing a new apartment complex to be built on the site. She listened to the pleasure and satisfaction in his voice as he explained what he wanted constructed and how it would take advantage of the view, as well as catering for every modern aspect of living in the city.
Clearly he enjoyed his work and the opportunity to have such lavish projects to work on. He might not recognise how deeply he was tied to the Peretti Corporation since it had always been there for him to step into, but Skye did.
Big money at his fingertips.
Big money to invest how he saw fit.
Big money to spend how he pleased in his private life, as well.
As long as he stayed where he belonged.
Or was that being unfair, too? Luc had more than enough driving force to succeed in establishing himself anywhere, in any company, or on his own. Why couldn’t she just accept that he didn’t live in his father’s pocket?
Because she couldn’t make the fear go away.
It was too deeply rooted in past pain.
‘Do you still live at Cronulla?’ she asked, needing to know if he’d continued living with his family in the incredibly luxurious horseshoe compound facing the waterfront there.
He shook his head. ‘Dad sold that place five years ago.’
The timing made Skye wonder if Maurizio Peretti had decided to shift his family right away from the neighbouring suburb of Caringbah where Luc’s illegitimate child was possibly far too close for comfort.
Luc flashed her an ironic look. ‘He upgraded to a heritage-listed mansion at Bellevue Hill.’
Mega-bucks, she thought, plus getting way out of the range of any accidental meeting with the unsuitable woman and her child.
‘Big enough to house three generations of the family,’ Luc went on, his voice carrying a sardonic edge.
Everything within Skye recoiled at the idea of living in the same house with his parents. It would be absolute madness to even consider marrying Luc if it meant co-habiting with his family. Regardless of how attractive he was to her, how good he was to Matt…
‘It hasn’t worked out that way,’ he said, forestalling the tortured impulse to reject his proposal here and now.
‘Oh?’ It was more a choked gasp than a query. Skye was appalled at how wildly hope had galloped over despair.
‘Roberto obligingly brought his bride home—’ Luc’s riveting dark eyes glittered derisively ‘—the bride my father had hand-picked for me, except I didn’t oblige.’
‘So Roberto married her instead?’ She shook her head, shocked that such a switch would be made in so serious a life commitment.
Luc shrugged. ‘He was happy to. And I’m sure Gaia found Roberto a more charming husband than I would have been. Besides which, it was a very advantageous marriage on both sides. Unfortunately, even the best-laid plans can go astray. Gaia was still childless when Roberto died, and has since returned to her own family.’
‘You’re not expected to…to console his widow?’
‘I doubt my father would wish me to take a wife who might not be able to produce the grandchildren he wants,’ he answered cynically. ‘Gaia suffered two miscarriages in her short marriage to Roberto.’
It was revolting to Skye to think of any woman being regarded as a baby-making machine. On the other hand, Roberto’s wife had probably been sadly disappointed herself not to have had a much-wanted child.
‘I’m sure your father can find you another suitable wife for his dynastic ambitions,’ she tossed at Luc, knowing she should never take on that role herself.
‘I won’t marry anyone but you, Skye.’
His eyes burned with unshakeable purpose, making her too agitated to even pretend to eat any more. She put down her knife and fork, willing herself to face him with her own determination. ‘It won’t work,’ she stated bluntly.