Temporarily Hitched : A second chance fake marriage romance

by Diane Louise

  Chapter Six

  What had she done? But the big question, the one Daniella couldn't shake off and hadn't stopped repeating all nightlong, was why? Why had she done it? Why had she opened that door? Why had she been so eager to give herself over to Franco?

  Once he relaxed his possessive hold of her she slipped out of his embrace. Resting her head on her hand she watched him sleep. His arms stretched overhead emphasised his broad back. The stark white of his bed sheets highlighted his smooth, tanned skin. Even in his sleep he managed to cast a spell over her. Made her want to touch him, lick him, bite him. She opted instead though to let him rest, to admire his tousled hair from afar instead of running her fingers through it. One week ago, Daniella had married Franco Zorita, and this was the first time she had witnessed him looking anything less than immaculate. Not that he looked far from perfect with his relaxed expression and wistful smile. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he replaying their love making from the night before? She hoped so. Then her thoughts began to darken. A frown took over her forehead as she considered the other possibilities. Franco had said once before that he would release her from the marriage early if she consummated it. Was that the thought dominating his dreams? His early release from a marriage of convenience? After all, Franco was an eligible bachelor, with bachelor needs. Now that she had satisfied his urges he could be free. Free to pursue the type of woman who ordinarily graced his bed and free himself of his shackles. The shackles that, in his view, once upon a time nearly destroyed his business and downright eradicated the fragile relationship he had with his father.

  Deciding the question of why they had so readily fallen into one another's arms should wait until later she slid out of his bed, gathered her clothes, and slipped through the connecting door. Retreating as she should probably have done a few hours ago.

  Showered and feeling a little less dirty, Daniella obeyed her rumbling stomach and left the sanctuary of her bedroom in the direction of the kitchen. It was Saturday, and although in one hour the staff would be preparing the usual feast of fruits, granola, meat and cheese, Daniella didn't want to wait. She couldn't face sitting opposite Franco, making small talk, avoiding the big questions. Because she knew they would dance around them, it had become their ritual. Avoiding the big conversations to maintain an element of peace. The worst thing was this, deep down in her heart she knew that what Franco said last night rang with an element of truth. A seal was broken. Now that the door had opened, literally and figuratively, it would take a force of nature to keep it closed, and her compulsion to masturbate in the shower only served to demonstrate the fact.

  'Good morning, gorgeous,' Enos greeted her. Daniella was so lost in thought that she hadn't even noticed him walking in her direction. 'Bucks Fizz?'

  She gawped at the bottle of champagne and the carton of orange juice he joyfully presented. 'But you haven't eaten breakfast yet.'

  'I'm on holiday,' he said. 'And judging from the copulation calls ringing through this place last night, I suspect you could do with a drink too.'

  Daniella groaned. 'Really?'

  'Yes, really.' He held up the champagne and she snatched it from his hands, wasting no time to peel away the foil wrapper. Her hunger suddenly becoming secondary to humiliation, numbing her shame felt like the best course of action.

  'Come on, it's a beautiful morning, let's go poolside.' Daniella said.

  Chuffed that he had found a drinking partner so easily, Enos danced as he followed her down the steps and round to the pool, pausing only to pick up two glasses from the cabinet by the door.

  Daniella drank her first glass of Bucks Fizz, or rather, Champagne with a splash of orange juice, as if it was water. It swamped her bloodstream faster than she expected and the whoosh of relaxation that accompanied it was more than welcomed. Swirling the generous refill Enos provided around the glass with an absent mind, she tried to keep up with his bountiful energy but her head wasn't in it at all.

  'When they all chanted it together, well, I nearly died.' Enos concluded his story and laughed exuberantly before realising he had lost her somewhere along the way. 'Earth to Daniella,' he said clicking his fingers to wake her up.

  'Sorry, Enos,' she put the glass down. 'Alcohol before breakfast was probably the worse idea I've latched onto this summer,' she sighed. 'And that's saying something.'

  'Wanna spill?'

  'Not really, it's just been one of those summers.' She let her gaze wander off into the distance, drinking in the rugged landscape and early morning sky, which still harnessed the promise of a positive new day.

  He tutted. 'Well, it can't be trouble in paradise judging by the noise you two were making last night. I thought the house had been overrun by a band of rampant gorillas.'

  If only he knew, she thought, oh well. At least if nothing else he was likely to believe the entire fabrication. 'Please, Enos. Enough of the sex talk.'

  'Yes,' Franco's voice cut in. 'Enough of the sex talk. You'll embarrass my dear wife.'

  Daniella's spine straightened at the sudden appearance of her husband. 'How long have you been standing there?'

  'Long enough,' he answered. 'Alcohol before breakfast? I didn't have you down as a lush, Daniella.' Although Franco addressed her, his eyes burnt into Enos. 'We have an appointment in Madrid in two hours. I want you to sober up and get dressed.'

  Enos returned his brother's venomous stare. 'She's hardly legless.'

  'Yet,' Franco spat back at him before turning his gaze onto Daniella. 'We are attending the Verela party this evening. I need you to be presentable so we are going shopping. Wives like shopping, don't they?

  'Verela party.' Enos and Daniella echoed in unison.

  Daniella looked up at her husband incredulously. ‘Verela party? Why would you accept an invitation to go there?' By her understanding, Verela Holdings were the piranhas of the finance world, and she couldn't think of one reason Franco would want to be seen rubbing shoulders with them. Not after all the hard work he'd put into cleaning up the reputation of Zorita Holdings. 'Besides, I have clothes,' she added.

  Franco's lipps tightened. 'I'm telling you about it now,' he said. 'I'm aware you have clothes, but nothing suitable. I'll be waiting by the Lamborghini. Be prompt.' He shot one more acidic look at Enos before leaving them alone.

  'Wow,' Enos exclaimed. 'I can see why you married him.'

  Daniella ignored him and focused on settling her rattled nerves. Clearly, Franco's attitude towards her following their intimate connection last night hadn't mellowed. Although, she had to admit it wasn't good. Drinking before breakfast and talking about their sex life, or rather their sexual encounter, with his brother. No wonder he was angry with her. 'He's under a lot of pressure,' she said.

  'He's always relished the pressure,' Enos said. 'Don't let the bastard grind you down.'

  She smiled at Enos' flippant attitude. 'I won't.' Slapping her thighs, she stood. Puffing her chest in an attempt to hide her dented dignity she excused herself. 'Right, I'm going to eat something before I pass out. I might suggest you do the same.'

  'No chance,' Enos poured another drink, straight Champagne this time. 'There's fruit lurking somewhere in here, that'll satiate me enough until lunch.'

  Two hours later Daniella was dressed and waiting for Franco. Vexed that she had once again bent to his demands without putting up any kind of fight, she was considering leaving, walking away and finding something else to do before coming back in twenty minutes. That'll show him, she thought. Then he chose that exact moment to appear from the house. He skipped down the steps, lighter on his feet than a man of his bulky size had the right to be, and paid her no heed whatsoever as he passed her and disappeared into his side of the car.

  Daniella seethed and chastised herself. What did she expect? For him to be a gentleman and open the door for her? For him to greet her with a loving kiss on the cheek? She slumped into the plush seat and slammed the car door closed, clicking her seat belt with as much force as she could. She fol
ded her arms across her chest and stared outside with her bottom lip protruding. More irritated by the fact that he brought out the petulant child in her than his actual behaviour.

  'Ready?' he asked.

  She grunted a response without peeling her eyes from the window and he accelerated with a squeal of his tyres. Most probably in an attempt to raise an argument from her, but she resisted, bit her tongue and tried to pretend he wasn't even there.

  'I don't like you spending too much time with Enos.' Franco said, breaking the awkward silence.

  Daniella folded her arms tighter and shifted in her seat. 'What are you? Jealous?'

  Franco took his eyes off the road and glanced at her, amusement quirking the corners of his mouth. 'Hardly, after the performance you put on last night I'm pretty certain it's me you fancy.'

  She snapped her head around and glared at him. 'That won't be happening again so I suggest we don't discuss it further.'

  Franco cocked an eyebrow. 'You think?'

  'I know,' she hissed. 'And another thing, just because I'm your wife it does not mean you can tell me where to go, and what to do and what to wear while I'm doing it. If I want to spend my time with Enos, I can. He's fun; you should spend more time with him. You might lighten up a little. Become somebody people want to be with.' Daniella resumed her observation of the outside world, quite proud of the guts she found to put Franco in his place.

  'If you say so.' Franco ended the conversation and Daniella felt disappointed. With no rebuttal, she couldn't voice any of the other arguments swimming in her mind.

  The rest of the journey was silent. The car rolled through Madrid, attracting attention from every angle. Daniella slumped deeper into her seat trying to evade the stares from strangers but Franco appeared unperturbed by it. He ignored every car park and turned down a narrow alleyway.

  'An alleyway, Franco? A bit cheap don't you think?'

  'Don't flatter yourself,' he answered. 'This is the boutique.'

  'Here?' Daniella sat upright and frowned out of the window. 'With the trash?' She knew she was being facetious though, it was actually a remarkably clean back street.

  Parking next to a wall, he switched off the engine and unclicked his seat belt. 'Yes, here.'

  Daniella's jaw dropped. 'You can't leave the car here!'

  Franco pointed to a series of cameras directed towards them, towards the main road, towards a low wall opposite, towards a reinforced door with a security entrance. 'There is no problem,' he said. 'I've shopped here a hundred times.'

  'Geez, you know how to make a girl feel special.' Daniella jeered.

  'Don't be precious, do you want a new dress, or not?' He asked, getting out and slamming his door.

  Precious? The only precious person in this relationship was Franco she thought to herself. She didn't want a dress, and she most certainly didn't want him to parade her around on his arm as Mrs Zorita. Although, a shop with no front certainly piqued her interest. Sulking behind him, she watched as he pressed the call button on the security system and slit her eyes at his back when a woman with a silky voice granted him access. All defences dropped though when she saw what splendour awaited them on the other side of the drab door.

  Daniella didn't know where to look first. 'What is this place?' She asked with eyes wide and mouth agog.

  'This is a grown woman's answer to Disney World.' The silky voice explained, taking Daniella by surprise.

  Disney World wasn't an exaggeration. The place was pure fantasy. Far more ornate and exquisite than any high street store Daniella had ever shopped in. Bright and spacious, the walls carried rails of gowns organised into colour groups that soothed the eye. An invisible cord drew her in deeper, and attracted her towards a selection of clothing in autumnal shades. 'This place is amazing.' She said in awe. 'These clothes are out of this world, did you design them?' She asked the lady who let them in.

  'I did, thank you.' The woman said, accepting the compliment with grace. She had a perfect smile sitting on a perfectly made-up face. An older woman, exquisitely dressed in materials that surely didn't function well in the real world.

  'Those are your colours,' the woman said, brushing a manicured finger over the satin dress Daniella lusted after. 'You are obviously extremely well tuned into what works for you.'

  Daniella blushed at her obvious gushing over the dresses. 'Erm, no not really, I'm not a big shopper.'

  'Thank you for coming in at such short notice, Agueda. I would have met with one of your assistants.' Franco jumped in.

  Agueda. An unusual name. Daniella had heard it before but couldn't put her finger on where.

  'No, no, no.' The woman flicked her wrist dismissively . 'For you, anything. Tell me now, what is it your heart desires?'

  'My wife needs a dress, for tonight.'

  Agueda snapped her head towards Daniella. 'Ah, so this is the young lady who has broken the heart of so many others by claiming the delightful Franco Zorita for her own,' she smiled warmly. 'There is not a model alive who does not lust after your husband and cries into her pillow at night knowing that he is no longer available.'

  Daniella, still smarting from Franco's domineering attitude, could hardly raise a smile. 'I assure you, they are not missing much.'

  Agueda barked a husky laugh. 'Your wife, she has a sense of humour, no?'

  Franco shot Daniella a warning look. 'She tries,' he said. 'Anyway, this is our first public outing as man and wife and I want her to shine brighter than everybody else.'

  'Wrapped in a Gudino gown she shall be the envy of the ball dear Franco. Leave it with me,' she said with a wink.

  A Gudino gown? Agueda Gudino. Daniella realised suddenly who the woman was. Her mouth went dry. All moisture it seemed navigated towards her palms and she jerked her hand away from the dress her fingers were exploring. Agueda Gudino. The globes most celebrated designer. Her dresses graced royalty and celebrities all over the world. At auction, they raised thousands and thousands of pounds for charity.

  'I trust you implicitly.' Franco nodded his head towards the world famous designer before taking a seat in one of the plush bucket seats, leaving Daniella alone to shop. With Agueda. Daniella was standing in Agueda Gudino's boutique. With Agueda herself. This was too much. She needed water. Or something stronger. Why in god's name had he not warned her? His head would roll for this. Daniella was certain he kept his mystery shopping location a secret just so he could humiliate her. Asshole.

  'So,' Agueda clapped her hands together and sized up Daniella, there was nothing pretentious in her scrutiny. She was merely casting a professional eye over her client’s physique.

  Daniella avoided eye contact while admiring the offerings in store and felt a pang of guilt for not spending more hours lifting weights and less hours watching television. For years, Daniella had avoided 'designer' clothes. Believing them to be a frivolous and unnecessary expense. Now, here, in the presence of greatness, she wished her life focus had been slightly different. For the first time in a long time she considered that had she pursued her childhood dream of acting, then this could be her normality. Daniella knew she carried enough talent to be a success. But no. A long time ago Daniella learned that what she rated above all else, what made her sleep easy at night and what enabled her to live a comfortable life, was anonymity. Being the daughter of a suicidal supermodel and a failed actor, not to mention the scandalous woman who single handily brought a thriving investment firm to its knees with one kiss and tell story, had a big enough effect on Daniella to make her slope into the shadows and never again emerge.

  'You have a designer's dream physique.' Agueda said prodding Daniella's hip in an attempt to turn her round.

  'I do?'

  'You do. Proportional.'

  'Proportional.' Daniella squared her shoulders with pride. Agueda Gudino described her body as proportional. That had to be a good thing.

  Agueda continued to study Daniella to the point where it started to become awkward. 'Although silk is most definitely
out of the equation.'

  Daniella shrugged. She knew that.

  'However,' Agueda looked proud of herself. 'I must have created this especially for you. It is as much made for you as that dashing husband of yours.' Her heels clip-clopped across the marble floor before stopping in front of a selection of red dresses. With delicate fingers, she parted the velvet wrapped hangers until she located the dress she had in mind. Retrieving a scarlet dress, she draped it across her body to show it off. What a gown! Not in a million years would Daniella have selected it. Dangerously low cut. Dangerously slit up the thigh. Dangerously sexy. Not at all Daniella.

  Stealing a glance across to where Franco sat, his expression very much one of approval, Daniella dared to imagine wearing the dress while entering the party on Franco's arm. A handsome man with his blushing bride, all eyes on them, marveling at what a beautiful couple they make. Enquiring when children would be making an appearance. Children. After her taste of paradise last night, Daniella allowed herself to envision what it would be like to try for children with Franco. She hoped pregnancy wouldn't come too soon. She wanted to practice, and practice, and practice.

  'You don't like it?'

  Daniella shook herself from the daydream. 'No, no, no,' she said. 'It's not that, it's just,' she looked into the pained eyes of the designer. 'It's just that I don't think I would do it justice.' Much like my husband, she thought.

  'Poppycock.' Agueda spat. 'I know what I am doing. Go. Try it on. You will see.' Thrusting the garment in Daniella's arms, she wagged her finger. 'Mistress Gudino is never wrong.'

  Once again ensconced inside the Lamborghini, Daniella kept one eye on the road fearing for her life and the other fixed on the dress draped across her knee. The air carried an awkward silence, punctuated only by the powerful roar of the engine.

  'Thank you,' Daniella muttered while they were idling at a traffic light.

  'You are welcome.' He glimpsed down at the bag containing the item of clothing that he’d paid for without blinking. Daniella wasn't privy to the actual cost but guessed that the money spent would have gone a long way towards feeding a village of starving families in a developing country. The thought of wearing something so expensive filled her with dread. How was she going to eat, drink, or sit without tarnishing it?