by Lynne Graham
‘She’s from another…er…’ Luca had thought of her, her sinewy, purposeful body, her lightly freckled face bare of make-up, her hair hanging down her back in a riot of tangled curls, and the word planet had sprung to mind.
However, any such description wasn’t going to do, he’d acknowledged, because his father truly thought that at long last his hard-nosed son had traded his head for his heart, and Luca had been strangely reluctant to disillusion him on that front.
‘It’s like me and your mother,’ Giovanni Baresi had murmured in a trembling, emotional voice down the end of the phone line. ‘Same part of the world, even. Oh, my dear, dear son…’
Luca had found it astonishing that, after the many conversations they had had over the years on the subject of relationships and Luca’s outspoken disapproval of his father’s antics, his father could still be swept away on a tide of emotion at the unrealistic assumption that his son had somehow managed to dispatch his brain on a long-distance holiday, leaving him vulnerable to the one thing he had always declared he didn’t believe in.
Having allowed his father to think the wildly improbable, he had had to go with the flow. Likewise, for better or for worse, Isabella and her parents also nurtured thoughts of a love match. Isabella should have known better, considering they had discussed the suitability of a marriage of convenience, but there you had it.
Luca sighed and glanced at his watch.
Who believed what didn’t matter anyway, so dwelling on it was a waste of time.
She was late.
He dialled her number and opened, without hesitation, ‘Where are you?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Cordelia responded breathlessly. Sitting in the back seat of Luca’s plush four-wheel drive, she could barely take in the splendid sights bypassing them as his driver whizzed along the deserted roads. Her head was moving left to right, her senses darting frantically so that she didn’t miss a thing. ‘I’m afraid I asked your driver to pull over a couple of times…well, maybe more than a couple, actually…’
‘You were sick? Is there a problem?’ Luca jerked into an upright position and wondered whether to video call her instead of talking down the end of a phone. So much more could be deciphered from looking at someone and Cordelia was certainly one of those people whose faces were as transparent as a sheet of glass. She wasn’t the complaining sort but was there some kind of medical problem happening? He wondered how fast he could get his consultant over to his house.
‘Oh, no,’ Cordelia responded airily. ‘It’s just that the scenery is so breathtaking that I wanted to take some pics on my phone.’
Luca sagged with relief, then he clicked his tongue impatiently.
‘My PA has set up appointments with the couturier,’ he drawled.
‘You never said.’
‘I didn’t think you would waste time stopping on the way for Kodak moments.’
‘I still don’t understand why I have to…have a change of wardrobe, Luca.’
‘You’re marrying me, cara. You will be entering a world that’s far removed from the one you have always been accustomed to. It is just a question of assimilation.’
Cordelia didn’t say anything. She had made her decision and she knew that he had a point. She could no longer hang around in jeans and tee shirts because she was no longer going to be living the life she had always lived. Close to the sea, barefoot on a beach, interacting with people who built lives around the ocean. She had dreamed of faraway adventure and now she had got what she’d always wanted, but that dream came at a price and it was too late to start quibbling about how high or low that price should be.
At least when she had earlier spoken to her dad, he hadn’t sounded as anxious as she’d expected.
Lord knew, his anxiety levels would shoot through the roof when she broke the news to him about the pregnancy, but that was a bridge she was happy to cross a bit later.
She could only hope that Doris would keep quiet, but there was nothing she could do about that.
She resisted the urge to make Luca’s driver stop again when they entered the city because it was so unimaginably beautiful.
The colours of sand and taupe, buildings that seemed to be carved from the earth, ornate, majestic and breathing an ancient history.
It felt as though, literally, she was entering a different world. She wanted to hop out of the car and begin exploring immediately. Instead, she poked her head through the window and tried hard to take it all in.
Regrettably, they were at the designated meeting spot all too soon for Cordelia’s liking.
She tipped into the most amazing open space, a fan-shaped central square ringed by ancient medieval buildings with the occasional modern shop front as a token nod to the twenty-first century. A thin bell tower dominated the vast circle of old buildings and she took a few seconds out to gaze at it.
Luca was sitting outside the café, the name of which he had texted her. He was lounging back in a pair of grey chinos, a white short-sleeved linen shirt and dark designer sunglasses that inconveniently concealed his expression as she walked towards him.
He looked the very essence of sophisticated and laid-back, with an elegance that only money could buy.
No wonder he wanted her out of her uniform of jeans as fast as possible, she thought. He might have found that charming in Cornwall but it was definitely off limits here in his rich life and all that that rich life entailed.
She had a twinge of doubt. Was this really her? She had agreed to marry a guy who didn’t love her. She had signed up to a life the rules of which she didn’t know. Then she thought of the baby inside her and swallowed back all her fears and misgivings. She had to settle in one camp and put the pull-push feelings away. She also had to stop hoping for the impossible.
Their marriage might not be what she had had in mind for herself but, then again, neither had she ever contemplated the prospect of a pregnancy she hadn’t planned and, while Luca might not love her, he had been prepared to sacrifice the direction of his own life to accommodate a situation that would have hit him as hard as it had hit her. That spoke volumes. That was enough because it would have to be enough.
She just couldn’t deny their baby the huge advantages of inheriting a lineage that was rightfully his.
Step one would be to accept the path she had chosen without fuss. She wouldn’t argue about everything and she wouldn’t look further than what Luca could put on the table. She would also stop thinking about the woman he had walked away from, speculating on what he might or might not have felt for her, on what she might or might not look like.
Her future was starting this very moment and glancing over her shoulder wasn’t going to do.
‘You worried me when you told me that you’d asked Roberto to stop on the way here,’ he opened, getting down to business straight away but unable to overlook the tug at his groin when he looked at her. Luca had never had a problem when it came to women and moving on, and he absently wondered whether the fact that she was pregnant with his child somehow accounted for the ongoing effect she seemed to be having on him.
‘I’m sorry,’ Cordelia parried stiffly as she sat on the chair next to him and facing out onto the square, which was great because it meant she didn’t have to look at him, which was a disaster zone for her when it came to thinking clearly. ‘I couldn’t resist. I’ve never travelled abroad. It was all too much.’ That admission of just how wildly different their worlds were brought a tinge of colour to her cheeks. ‘If we’re going to be late for…for whatever it is that you’ve arranged, then perhaps we should leave now.’
‘They’ll wait.’ Luca shrugged. ‘I thought all women enjoyed shopping and having things bought for them. You’re acting as though I’m punishing you by getting you a new wardrobe. Whatever you want. You name it and it’s yours.’
‘We’re so different, you and I,’ Cordelia couldn’t help but mur
mur, glancing across at him and then finding her gaze helplessly locked to his sharp, aristocratic profile.
‘We are,’ he agreed without hesitation. ‘You’re not going to start using our differences to return to the discussion about love and marriage, are you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Good.’ He removed the sunglasses to dangle them on one finger and glanced sideways at her.
So different.
Yet she had taken the plunge and was about to enter a world she would never have envisaged for herself. She would be buffed, polished and primed for life in the luxury lane and he felt that she might be scared stiff at that unknown future ahead of her. It was one thing to talk about exploring different shores. It was quite different when you found yourself dumped on one of those shores with the signposts all in a foreign language, far from everything that might feel familiar.
‘This is going to work,’ he told her firmly, voice low, waving aside a hovering waiter and standing because there was a lot to do.
‘You can’t say that.’
‘Of course I can. I intend to be an excellent father and an excellent husband.’
‘You don’t love me.’
Luca cupped her elbow so that he could usher her into the square, away from the café and towards a corner in which was nestled an array of high-end shops, all peeking out from their grand façades of weathered, ochre-coloured brick.
‘I will, however, respect you as the mother of my child. Likewise, you will find me a faithful husband.’
Looking at him, Cordelia sighed at the confident, cocky smile he shot her. God, he was so different from her yet he got to her in ways no one else could.
‘That’s another sweeping statement,’ she murmured, although she couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief that some of her darkest doubts were being addressed.
Not love, but fidelity. It was an exchange that would have to do. Many unhappy relationships ended up with far less.
‘I’ve never approved of my father’s search for love,’ Luca confessed as they strolled towards the small but exquisite boutique with which he was vaguely familiar. ‘He loved once and when that was prematurely ripped away from him, he thought that he could replace it. Love was always just round the corner. Marriage always followed and heartbreak was always the eventual outcome. Not to mention vast drops in the family coffers thanks to greedy exes and expensive lawyers. A wise man can avoid all of that nonsense by making sure he doesn’t start picturing a life of happy-ever-afters. So if I’m cynical about the therapeutic powers of love, then I have every reason to be so. That said…’ He paused and looked at her with a frown. He was still dangling the sunglasses but now he stuck them on and she shielded her eyes from the bright glare of the sun.
‘That said…?’ Cordelia prompted.
‘That said,’ he drawled, shaking himself free from whatever weird hold she’d temporarily exercised on him with those gently questioning, impossibly blue eyes, ‘he was always a great believer in the value of monogamy.’
‘That’s important.’ Cordelia fell into step with him as he moved off, heading towards the far corner of the piazza.
Luca laughed under his breath. ‘His values were always in the right place. It was his heart that couldn’t stop hiving off in all sorts of undesirable directions. We’re here. Clothes and whatever else you might see that takes your fancy. You’ll need everything from shoes to bags to jewellery. Then my PA has arranged for you to hit one of the beauty salons around here. I have the address.’
‘It’s a comprehensive overhaul.’ Cordelia valiantly tried to laugh that off rather than see it as some kind of implied insult.
‘You’ll thank me for it in the long run. I have an important charity gala to attend in a couple of weeks and you will be on my arm as my wife-to-be.’
Sudden nerves plucked at Cordelia’s tummy and she spun round to stride in front of him, stopping him from marching onwards by dint of placing her hand on his chest.
‘Why am I only hearing about this now?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Luca, I have no experience when it comes to…to that kind of thing…’
‘What kind of thing?’
‘I don’t even know what a charity gala entails!’
‘Lots of important people meeting up to have fun while raising money for one or more designated charities. The women will all be dressed to the nines, hence one of the reasons for this shopping trip taking place today.’
‘I’m never going to fit in!’
‘Don’t be negative, Cordelia. You have a fortnight to get used to the idea. These things may be tedious but we’re not talking about water torture.’
‘The closest I’ve come to anything like that in my life before,’ she protested in a high-pitched voice, ‘were the monthly do’s at the village hall! I’m thinking that a charity gala isn’t going to be in the same league.’
‘I would never have taken you for someone so lacking in confidence.’
‘I feel out of my depth.’
Luca paused, hitched his sunglasses to the top of his head and looked at her so seriously and so intently that Cordelia could feel hot colour race into her cheeks.
Now he’s seeing what he’s let himself in for, she thought miserably. I’m just an ordinary girl from a Cornish village and no amount of fancy dress can ever change that. Is this the point when he decides that marriage might not be such a great idea after all?
She was astonished at the gaping hole that opened up inside her at the prospect.
It was one thing for him to hitch his wagon to the mother of his child, but quite another to hitch it to a woman who could never possibly live up to his exalted lifestyle.
She stared down at the wildly unfashionable sandals she had brought over with her and started when she felt the graze of his finger against her burning cheek.
‘Don’t worry,’ Luca murmured. He tilted her chin upwards and their eyes met and held. ‘You can lean on me. I have no intention of letting you flounder.’
Cordelia blinked.
Every straining muscle in her body was propelling her forward, one small step then another.
She was barely aware of herself leaning up or of her mouth parting, inviting more than just a casual touch.
She closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure as Luca’s mouth descended.
What was going on here? Luca despised public displays of affection. Since when did he do stuff like this? But he was in the grip of something far more powerful than common sense and he plundered her mouth with scant regard for who might or might not be watching.
It was the least cool thing he had ever done in his life before.
But the feel of her lips, her darting tongue, the soft shudder of her body so close to his…
Irresistible.
He drew apart with reluctance and stared down at her.
‘We…have things to do…’ He raked his fingers through his hair and shifted restlessly. The only thing he wanted to do was grab her hand, head for his car, which was parked less than ten minutes away, and take her back to his house and straight into his bed. ‘Clothes to buy,’ he muttered thickly.
‘My makeover. I know. Sorry. I got…’ She couldn’t keep looking at him because she would just want to kiss him again. ‘I got a little carried away…’
‘I think that getting a little carried away is allowed.’ He held her hand, linking his fingers through hers in a gesture that felt strangely intimate. ‘After all…’ he smiled raggedly ‘…it’s not as though we aren’t in the most intimate place two people could be in. Yes, getting a little carried away…’ he breathed deeply, getting a grip ‘…is definitely allowed, don’t you think?’
Sex, Cordelia thought pragmatically. That was what it was about. That chemistry between them was still alive and kicking and it wasn’t all on her side. He
wanted her as much as she wanted him. She had felt it in that kiss.
There would be passion and he would be faithful and he would protect her from the slings and arrows of this new life she had to get used to. He’d made that pledge and somewhere deep inside she believed him.
And if there was no love, then three out of four would be good enough.
As he had predicted, they were welcomed into the wonderfully air-conditioned boutique like royalty. The closed sign was put on the door and she was invited to take a seat so that clothes could be brought out for her inspection.
She was downright intimidated by the cool grey walls, the marble floor, the clothes hanging on the rails. There was no comforting pop music in the background. Choosing these clothes was serious business. There weren’t thousands of items on each rail but she figured that each one would cost a small fortune. It was a minimalist, coldly clinical boutique that only opened its doors to the uber-rich.
She had never felt more uncomfortable in her life before.
A model of similar height but remarkably skinny, with long dark hair and sultry dark eyes, paraded a selection of outfits while Cordelia sat and tried hard to look riveted by the experience. Ever so often, she murmured and nodded, very much aware of Luca next to her, sprawled on the white leather sofa with his laptop to one side, flickering and demanding attention.
‘Okay,’ he announced, ‘I think we’ve seen enough.’
The sultry-eyed, dark-haired model looked visibly disappointed at this pronouncement.
Cordelia had scrambled to choose a few things and was already dreading step number two in the makeover. Did she really want to be buffed and polished?
‘We’ll take…the red dress, the long one and…’ he carelessly pointed to the pile that had been set aside to be reviewed ‘…that lot.’ Then he stood up and held out his hand to her.
‘You don’t have to come with me to the beauty place,’ Cordelia said as soon as they’d left the cool boutique and stepped out into the baking summer air.
