‘Someone like Tristan Falco?’ The venom-filled words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
‘I wasn’t thinking of Tristan, but now that you say it, he might be a good fit.’
Valerio tensed. Over his dead body.
‘I wouldn’t trust anyone else—and neither should you. My family will get over it.’
He stood up, stretching his lower back muscles and pouring himself a glass of cold water to try to calm his nerves.
He had to admit that not once had he thought of his parents’ reaction to his sudden nuptials. Amerigo and Renata Marchesi were not fiercely traditional, and they had always pushed their sons to choose their own path in life. But his mother was understandably hurt.
Once again he was a disappointment. Even when for once he was being selfless in his actions. He had nothing to gain from shackling himself in marriage other than protecting Daniela from harm and fulfilling his promise to her brother.
A small part of him spoke up, pointing out that so far he seemed to have been a lot more preoccupied with their living situation and ensuring she was by his side. He should have been working more on investigating possible perpetrators—like Fiero.
He leaned down, pinching the bridge of his nose sharply. ‘Dio, why is everything so damn complicated?’
Truthfully, he’d been relieved to talk things through with his older brother earlier. Rigo had been by his side at every important moment in his life—the day he’d dropped out of college, the day he’d told his father that he didn’t want to be a part of the family business, and the day he’d cut the ribbon on the first company premises. Rigo had always offered impartial advice and support. He had always been a rock no matter how heavy the storm.
But his father was another story. Amerigo Marchesi had always hoped his two sons would run the family business together, but Valerio had never coped well behind a desk. He had been a wild teenager and an even wilder adult, taking on whatever ridiculous challenges life threw at him. He had once thrived on adrenaline and risk—now he spent his days obsessing over one woman’s safety. The irony was not lost on him...
When Dani suggested they talk through some of the details of the new base they were going to visit in St Lucia, he jumped at the chance to shut his brain off by listening to the progress she’d made on the project. It was impressive—more impressive than anything he and Duarte could have planned. She was a marvel at organising, and seeing details no one else did.
When she finally yawned, and said she was going to try to sleep for the rest of the flight, he almost asked her to stay and tell him more. Something about her presence soothed him and made him feel less adrift. But in the end he let her go with a single nod.
Once he was alone he felt a familiar restlessness settling into his bones. The last time he’d been in St Lucia had been a few days before the accident with Duarte. They had been finalising the purchase of their new premises there when Duarte had told him that he needed to go to Brazil for a couple of days to sort out some business. At the last minute Valerio had decided to follow him as a surprise, so they could celebrate their expansion plans.
Valerio tried in vain to shut himself off to the memory...tried to block out the anger and regret. He’d spent months torturing himself for not realising that something was up with his best friend, that the man had been preoccupied and taking mysterious phone calls in the middle of important meetings. He’d clearly been under some unseen pressure, but Valerio had believed his excuse that he was just ‘in a situation’ with a woman.
Duarte had been an intense guy at the best of times—it had been easier for Valerio to look away and focus on growing their empire.
Regret washed over him, and once again he fought the urge to ask his fiancée to come back and discuss more business plans. She would likely jump at the chance. She loved to talk about work, and he could simply lose himself in her soothing presence.
Then he cursed himself for his own selfishness, hoping he might relax enough to sleep but knowing it was completely hopeless that he would ever feel at rest.
When Dani awoke, a number of hours later, she found Valerio sleeping soundly on his recliner in the main cabin. She walked over to stand beside him, fighting the urge to cover him with a blanket. He had told her never to touch him while he slept and she wasn’t about to overstep that boundary, no matter how much she wanted to soothe the beast that roared in him.
Frowning, she took a seat at the opposite end of the cabin and successfully busied her fretful mind by reading over some of the finer details of their new Caribbean expansion. She might not be a fully active CEO, thanks to his demotion of her, but she had been the one to put the work into the planning of this base and she wasn’t about to let him go in unprepared. She was able to separate her emotions from her professional work.
She thought of Valerio’s urging her to focus on her independent contracts and how success had felt when it had been on her own terms. It had been hard work, a lot of travelling, and impossible to forge any kind of relationship in such a transient role. But that was what had drawn her to the work in the beginning—it had been the perfect balance. She had spent half her time working with her brother and the other half travelling solo.
But even though she had believed she was content, something had felt strangely lacking. The travel had grated on her sleep schedule, and she’d felt no desire to see any of the cities she’d landed in, preferring just to get her work done and sit in her rented apartment or hotel room watching romantic comedies and eating cold pizza from the box.
The lack of travel in the past six months while she had been running Velamar had been a welcome change of pace, but it still hadn’t quite eased the restlessness that had long plagued her.
In the months before Duarte’s death, she had been drawing up plans to start her own PR firm—something she had always dreamed of. Initially she had believed that she needed more experience or larger jobs—that no one would take her seriously until she had proved herself on a grand scale. But bigger jobs and more respect had come and still she’d held back.
Now she was about to be the co-owner of a global yacht charter firm and about to marry her business partner.
Unable to focus on work any more, she set about tidying away the items that Valerio had left out on the table. A photograph slid from his wallet onto the floor and she picked it up, frowning as an image including herself stared back at her. She remembered that day. The picture had been taken at the very first charity yacht gala she had planned six years ago. Just a few months before she’d moved to London and met Kitt.
Duarte stood centre stage, looking straight into the camera, while Dani and Valerio stood either side of him. Dani’s hand was outstretched towards her brother’s best friend as though she was mid-punch. She sighed, seeing that look in her eyes that she remembered so well. But she couldn’t quite place the expression on Valerio’s face...
Embarrassment, perhaps?
Had she been that obvious?
She scrunched her face up, cursing how terrible she had always been at disguising her emotions. Even now, did he know how utterly infatuated she had been with him? Could he tell that she still struggled with that pull of attraction?
She let her eyes wander from the photograph to the real-life, grown-up version of the man. He lay completely relaxed, his strong jaw in profile, showcasing the kind of chiselled designer stubble that most male models would have killed for. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, where the material of his shirt strained over the taut muscles that lay underneath.
She imagined what this flight might have been like had they been a real engaged couple on their way to a romantic whirlwind elopement. That version of her wouldn’t have thought twice about sliding onto her sleeping fiancé’s lap and running her fingers along his perfect jaw to wake him with a sizzling kiss... And maybe that kiss would have led to the kind of mile-high aeroplane chair
sex she had only ever read about in magazine confession columns.
Just as she allowed herself to imagine the mechanics of such an act, the Captain chose to announce their descent. Valerio woke with his familiar knee-jerk rapid awareness. His eyes landed on her and Dani felt herself freeze as though she’d been caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar.
His gaze seemed curious, and she wondered if her erotic daydreams were somehow painted across her forehead. She felt far too warm as she cleared her throat and slid into the seat across from him, averting her gaze as she commented all too loudly on the picture-perfect view of the island of St Lucia below.
Their first stop was the office of a very prestigious local attorney, to ensure that the documents their company lawyer had filed in application for a marriage licence had been received. They were assured that all was going to plan, and that the short ceremony would take place in two days’ time, as per the legal waiting period during which they must not vacate the island.
Dani ignored the twist of nerves in her gut at the idea that in a mere forty-eight hours she would be legally wed to the silently brooding man by her side. He had been distant since their argument, his brow permanently marred by that single worry line in the centre. At one point she had almost reached out to smooth it down—had even had to pull her hand into a tight fist and marvel at how ridiculous she was being.
They left the attorney’s office and walked the short distance to the marina, where Velamar’s sleek new Caribbean base was in the final stages of being finished. The building was single-storey, in traditional St Lucian style, with an enviable frontage of the large marina, which housed the beginnings of their sleek new fleet of charter yachts and catamarans.
‘Well, what do you think?’
Dani crossed her arms as Valerio silently took in the bright, modern entrance foyer. The interior was still a mess of plastic coverings and unfinished paintwork, but the majority of the structural modifications had been completed exactly according to her orders.
Valerio was silent, his eyes seeming to take in every small detail as he moved around the large space. He craned his neck upwards to the feature chandelier hanging above their heads and let out a low whistle.
‘I had it commissioned by a local artist.’ Dani spoke quickly, before he tried to comment on the possible price of such a frivolous item. ‘I used local tradesmen for everything—including furniture design. I figured it was good for our global image, as well as making a statement about our commitment to being a part of this community—not just another big company setting up shop.’
‘It’s genius. This design is the perfect blend of our brand mixed with a St Lucian flavour.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re perfectly on schedule too, by the looks of things. We’ve never managed that on any of our projects before.’
She fought the impulse to make a snarky comment about how she was just that good—about how he was making a mistake by removing her from her CEO duties. Instead she let his compliment sit for a moment, then replied with a simple thank-you. It was very adult, for the pair of them. Very professional.
More than once she caught him watching her from the corner of her eye as she spoke to the small management team who had been running things on-site. They were jumping over one another, eager to show the progress that had been made in readying the base for the first launch in the upcoming season.
Valerio seemed oddly distant now, allowing her to take the lead on the walk-through while he stood to the side and listened.
She suggested they take the team to dinner, to show their appreciation of their hard work, and was delighted when Valerio booked a sleek little boutique restaurant on the harbour that served the most delicious lobster she had ever tasted. He stepped easily into the role of charming CEO as he regaled the small table with entertaining stories from the company’s early days, starting up in Monaco, and the various catastrophes they had endured.
She felt an enormous sense of pride in her company—and then froze, wondering when on earth she had begun thinking of it as hers and not Duarte’s. It was as if hearing that his death was about to be confirmed had forced her to start accepting that he was not coming back to claim what should have always been his.
She found herself struggling to keep up with the jovial conversation during the rest of dinner, and fell into silence on the short drive up the coast to the villa Valerio had leased for the weekend.
It was nestled high on the side of a hill in a small inlet, with a short private beach visible between the cliffs below. The house itself was a warm peach-coloured creation of concrete and salvaged wood, surrounded by beautiful potted trees. Wild flowers grew up its façade, along with green foliage along the windows.
She stepped out of the car, breathing in the warm sea breeze. There wasn’t a sound around them other than the chirping of birds and the muted crash of the waves on the wind. It took her breath away. It was as if her own personal postcard fantasy of an island paradise had been dreamed into life.
But even such a spectacular panorama couldn’t cut through the heavy cloud that had come over her. Grief was a strange thing. It seemed to disappear then pop back up when you least expected it.
She followed Valerio as he led the way past the front door, following a lamplit paved path around the side of the house. The manicured gardens stretched for what seemed like miles around them, sloping gently down towards a sharp cliff edge. Whoever had designed this space had ensured a perfect symmetry between the smooth curving lines of the house and the natural beauty of the landscape.
Her heart felt both happy and sad as she inwardly acknowledged that her brother would have loved it.
‘This place is magical,’ she breathed softly as she wandered around to a sprawling terrace at the rear of the villa, which stretched out from the cliff face on what seemed like stilts, dug down into the rock itself. It was quite literally as if you could walk right out into the clouds from here.
At this northernmost point of the island, the Caribbean stretched out endlessly to one side, the Atlantic Ocean in the distance on the other. On a clear day, she’d bet you could see all the way to the neighbouring island of Martinique.
‘I’m glad you like it.’ Valerio had a smile in his voice as he spoke, stopping at the polished wooden balustrade beside her. ‘I was thinking that, instead of the courthouse, we could just get married right here.’ When she was utterly silent, he continued awkwardly. ‘I have my security team on-site... It would be easier to contain. Plus, I thought it might be a bit of a nicer view than stacks of paperwork and musty bookshelves.’
Dani felt every romantic cell in her body light up from the inside out, the idea of saying her vows in such a place making her eyes water. But then she remembered that they weren’t real vows, and that she wasn’t to be a real bride in this picture-perfect setting. That the reason he had to keep her safe was because someone wanted to hurt her.
She felt herself deflate like a helium balloon coming down from the heavens. As beautiful as this place was, no amount of dressing it up would make this wedding any less painful.
CHAPTER SEVEN
VALERIO WAS PUZZLED by the sudden change in Dani as she simply nodded and murmured something non-committal about his idea sounding ‘nice’. He pursed his lips, ignoring the sinking disappointment in his gut at her reaction.
He wasn’t sure why he’d hoped she would be happy with the setting—they both knew that this was just a quick formality that needed to be done. It really didn’t matter if they signed their licence and said their vows by the side of a road—only that the legalities were seen to.
He watched as she wandered down the terrace, briefly taking in the impressive pool area, then moved inside the house to explore. Valerio kept a few steps behind her as she looked around, commenting on the vibrant colours of the potted plants and the flowers around each room. For the most part, the rented house was decorated in neutral tones of
white and grey. It was lacking an owner’s touch of personality.
The kitchen looked like a relatively new addition, as did the state-of-the-art surveillance system and security room. The privacy and safety of the house had been one of Valerio’s main concerns when booking, and he had advised his two guards to take shifts in the guest cabin at the gate. He wasn’t going to take any chances.
‘I’m going to go unpack my stuff...maybe take a shower.’
She wandered away through the house and Valerio watched her go, a feeling of unease within him. She was unhappy—he had seen it in the set of her mouth all the way through dinner. He had respected her silence in the car with difficulty, wanting to give her space in whatever bothered her, but he had also wanted to stop the car and demand she tell him what was wrong.
But it wasn’t his place. He wasn’t the man for her to confide her innermost feelings to...to lean on when she was sad. If he started blurring those lines, who knew what would come falling down next? Distance wasn’t just wise with Dani; it was absolutely necessary.
Ignoring the sudden increase of tension in his spine, he moved to the fridge and found it fully stocked, as requested. Fresh fruit and pre-cooked gourmet meals lined the shelves—enough to keep them going for a couple of days while they waited for the paperwork to go through.
Suddenly, the idea of sitting around waiting for the formalities of their elopement just didn’t sit right with him. If they had any hope of making this work, they needed to get back on the same team. He needed her to trust him, and not to feel like a coiled spring in his company.
Suddenly, he knew exactly what to do.
The tiny beach restaurant was a hidden gem Valerio had heard about on the east side of the island. Dani had initially worried aloud that her simple turquoise shift dress might make her feel underdressed, but that had been before Valerio had revealed that he’d booked out the entire venue for their exclusive use.
The Vows He Must Keep (Mills & Boon Modern) (The Avelar Family Scandals, Book 1) Page 9
