by Kim Lawrence
But Im assuming that you waited a little longer than five days before you got married.
Most sane people did, she reflected, still unable three months after the event to explain the reckless way she had jumped into marriage with a man whom she hardly knew. A man who she had already discovered had lied more than once to her.
But then there had not been a whole lot of sanity involved in her steamy relationship with Francesco Romanelli!
This entire divorce thing is going to be a total nightmare. I wish we could just do it without involving a lawyer. I really dont care about the moneyI just want to put it all behind me, but Mum says Erin shrugged and bit her lip. She never really took to Francesco, she admitted.
Valentina suspected that Clare Foyle would never take to any man who took away the daughter she used as an emotional prop, but she maintained a tactful silence.
The baby in her arms began to cry. Gianni is a bit cranky today.
Erin ran a tentative finger down the babys soft cheek, swallowing past the emotional lump in her throat. Hes a lovely baby, she observed huskily. Youre very lucky.
Valentina nodded. I know, she admitted. So shall we go find Sam? I think hes in the library.
Library?
Yes, hes dying to take you on a tour of the stud, she said, taking Erins arm and steering her towards the door.
That would be interesting, Erin admitted, puzzled by her hostesss urgency. But I wouldnt want to be an imposition. Couldnt I give you a hand?
Valentina looked blank . A hand?
Well, arent the other guests arriving this morning?
Everyone whos coming should be here by eleven-thirty, but everythings under control.
Her strained smile made Erin suspect that organising the weekend had been more fraught than Valentina had anticipated.
Im sure everything will go smoothly, Erin said soothingly.
For some reason this comment drew a nervous laugh from her increasingly anxious-looking hostess.
Valentina paused, her hand on the door of the library. I was wondering she began.
You were wondering what?
I was wondering if youre really serious about this divorce thingI know its none of my business.
Im deadly serious.
Valentina sighed. Well, I think its sad. You and Francesco on your wedding day looked soyou looked so right together.
Erin swallowed the lump in her throat. She remembered how it had felt right when his mouth had covered her own. How right it had felt when they had lain skin to skin touchingbut sometimes, she reflected grimly, instincts were wrong. What felt right was anything but!
Sometimes things dont work out, she said lamely; she could hardly bad-mouth Francesco to his cousin.
Actually she hadnt bad-mouthed him to anyone, and bizarrely there had been more than one occasion when she had even found herself defending him in the face of her mothers savage criticism. Well, whatever else he was, Francesco was the father of her unborn child.
Sam and I had some spectacular rows when we first married, Valentina revealed candidly. Living with someone even when you love them can be difficult in the early days.
Look, I appreciate what youre saying, Erin said. But you and Samwell, it isnt comparing like with like. Did Sam ever pretend to be someone he wasnt? Did you have to learn by accident that the man you were marrying the next day was someone quite different?
Valentina, looking confused, shook her head. You didnt know who Francesco was?
Well, I didnt know he was some filthy-rich banker with a family tree that can trace itself back to the year dot, and Id be grateful if you tell that to anyone who suggests I married him for his money.
Nobody thinks that! Valentina exclaimed, horrified by the suggestion.
Ive no doubt they will, Erin retorted as her thoughts were dragged inexorably back to the moment when she had accidentally discovered the true identity of her future husband.
She had experienced no flicker of premonition as she had picked up a paper that had wafted onto the floor from the desk piled high with Francescos files.
The letterhead on the heavy vellum paper had pronounced it came from the Romanelli Bank.
She remembered being struck by the coincidence of Francesco doing business with a bank that had his own name. It had been a sudden concern, not suspicion, that had made her go back and study it. Why did banks write to people?
What if Francesco had financial problems? She had had to remonstrate with him on more than one occasion about his generosity.
Guiltily she had skimmed the typewritten letter. The convoluted wording and technical language it was couched in meant she hadnt understood one word in five, but one thing she had understood was the signature at the bottom of the page.
She would have recognised that distinctive bold flourish anywhere.
What was Francescos name doing at the bottom of a letter from a bank?
She had suddenly remembered an incident that had not seemed important at the time. It had been the first time he had driven her up to his remote home two days earlier. On the way she had pointed at the name plaque on a large automated gate and laughingly asked if that was where he lived.
Romanelli is a common name around here.
Around the next bend she caught a fleeting glimpse of a vast honey-coloured stone building that resembled a fairy-tale castle.
The people who live there must be very rich, she commented.
They own the estate.
Is it large?
Many thousands of acres.
Of course, she forgot the rich people in their castle when he brought her to his home. Though only half the conversion was completed, Francescos home, which he explained he was converting with his own hands, totally enchanted her.
It was a perfect marriage of rustic and contemporary. All the materials, he proudly explained, were locally sourced, many reclaimed from other old buildings which had fallen into disrepair.
Francescos plans for the place were ambitious.
When it is finished there will be a glass corridor linking the two wings and that gable end will be glass.
Its beautiful, Francesco, she said, her imagination fired by the picture he drew.
It is perfectly habitable at the moment. Is it somewhere you could imagine living?
Ill never live anywhere half so beautiful.
You could.
You mean for the rest of my holiday?
I mean stay here. Live here with me?
The request startled her, but she still did not understand the sigificance. You mean permanently? But I have a job, a lifeI
You misunderstand. I am asking you to marry me.
Thinking of that castle, she had opened his laptop.
A few moments later the Internet had confirmed her suspicions.
Erin had confronted him immediately.
She had expected him to be defensive and perhaps annoyed that she had gone behind his back, but Francesco had been totally relaxed about the entire thing.
Quite the little detective, he murmured indulgently.
But you said that you work with horses.
And so I do. I did not lie to you. I just do other things, too.
Like make lots of money.
So long as I have enough to support a family I dont see that the state of my bank balance is relevant.
Not relevant? She stared at him in disbelief. But you own the bank ! Your name is in the first column of the European Rich List. You can trace your family tree back to royalty.
Well, you can see why I dont shout it from the rooftops, cant you? You tell people you are a banker and they begin to yawn straight away.
This is not a joke, Francesco. Things are going too fast.
Then let us be serious for a moment. I do not own a bankmy family, and specifically my father, does. Money is a byproduct of what I do, but it is not intrinsically important to me.
But its not just the money. You have a family, Francesco. Do they even know about me?
She felt her anger slip away as he tangled his fingers into the mesh of her hair, massaging his fingers into her scalp. He tilted her head back and kissed her.
A long, tremulous sigh left her lips when his head lifted.
My parents are staying with my sister in Australia. I have contacted them and told them about our marriage. They are ringing this evening to speak to you. They cant wait to meet you. They would have flown back but my mother had an accidentnothing serious, but she cannot make the trip.
They have had some sad times recently. You will bring some joy into their lives. As you have brought joy into mine, he said, holding her face in his hands and staring down at her with an expression that made her traitorous heart skip a beat.
But shouldnt we wait until they get back? I dont understand the hurry.
I really cant wait that long, tesoro mio, to make you my wife. Afterwards, he promised with a shrug, they can arrange anything they wish, but you will be mine.
Valentinas hand on her arm cut through Erins brooding recollections.
As she walked through the door Valentina stopped and turned to face Erin. Look, Erin, I know what this seems like, she began urgently.
Erin shook her head in total bewilderment. What seems like?
Im really sorry.
Sorry about what?
Valentina shook her head, her gaze trained on a point in the room beyond Erin. Erin automatically turned.
She literally felt the blood drain from her face.
Her body responded to the sight of the tall, supremely elegant figure who stepped forward, impeccable in his light grey suit and open-necked white shirt, exactly the same way it would have to a couple of thousand volts of neat electricity.
For a split second every nerve cell in her body fired off then shut down.
She stared at him, her throat aching with the emotions locked there. An irrational part of her visualised flinging herself into his arms and she really had to fight against her genetic predisposition to do so. It would mean heartbreak all over again.
She would not let history repeat itself. One woman in the family prepared to humiliate herself to keep a man was more than enough.
This cant be happening now. Im not ready to do this yet.
The same sexual awareness that she had always experienced in his presence hummed in her bloodstream; it made it impossible to think rationally. It always hadthat was the problem.
He was standing only a couple of feet away from her at the most. If she had reached out she could have touched him, laid her hand on his chest and felt the warmth of his skin, the thud of his heartbeat.
A strange little laugh emerged from her lips. Losing composure scarily fast, she turned her head. Her gaze met that of Valentina, who grimaced at the silent reproach in her eyes.
The older woman shook her head and mouthed, Im sorry .
You planned this. The sense of betrayal Erin felt was intense.
She had been genuinely touched that Francescos cousin had made an effort to cultivate friendship even after what had happened.
Francesco just wanted to talk to you andwe meant it for the best.
Sam, who had come to stand behind his wife, placed a hand on her shoulder. Come on, sweetheart. Lets leave them to it. As he took his infant son from her arms he looked directly at Erin. Val didnt want to do this. He glanced towards Francesco, nodded almost imperceptibly, and guided his wife from the room.
CHAPTER SEVEN
F OR several seconds after the door closed Erin did not move or react. The silence in the room screamed.
The only way she had survived their separation was by recognising that she no longer loved Francesco. That she never actually had. Real love, the sort that endured, was slow burning. It had nothing to do with the dark, sizzling heat and mind-numbing lust their marriage had been based on, but was about shared interests and mutual respect.
Mutual respect, she muttered through clenched lips. It was a necessary reminder. It would be perilously easy to allow chemistry to confuse her when every cell in her body was reacting to him standing there.
She could be sexually attracted to himwho wouldnt be? But attraction didnt equate with deeper feelings.
It equated with disaster!
Concentrate, she told herself, and dont think about his mouth . Concentrate on what a total bastard he is and getting out of this room without making a total fool of yourselfthat and breathe.
Yes, breathing would be useful. She tilted her chin and took a deep, steadying breath, schooling her stiff features into what she hoped was an expression of contempt.
This is a pretty low trick, Francesco, even by your standards.
Eyes trained on her face, he gave a very Latin shrug. I had no alternative.
Before she had walked into the room he had been angry. Now she was here and he was still angry, but interwoven with the anger were tenacious threads of tenderness. Hands clenched, he ruthlessly subdued a sudden strong compulsion to cradle her in his arms. Under the hostility she looked so damned fragile!
The groove above his masterful nose etched deep as his eyes continued to rake her face.
Some might have considered the recent changes in her appearance were subtle, but not Francesco, who had every line and curve of her face committed to memory.
The alterations screamed at him. Her face was thinner, emphasising the delicate bone structure and making her eyes appear even bigger, and there was a haunted quality in their bright jewellike depths. Her skin still had that fabulous translucent quality, but there were fine lines of strain around her wide mouth.
Were these visible signs of strain the results of a difficult pregnancy? He had to clamp his teeth over the angry demands for information that hovered on his tongue.
Her lips twisted and Erin shook her head in weary disbelief. There wasnt even a hint of apology in his manner. And youre surprised? she taunted herself.
No alternative but to lie and cheatnow why arent I surprised? she drawled.
A flash of anger ignited the gold highlights deep in his dark eyes. You would not take my calls, Erin.
The way he said her name always had caused her stomach muscles to flutter. It still did, though as there was a lot of quivering going on it was hard to separate out the disturbing sensation from all the others.
You refused my request for a face-to-face meeting. The steel in his manner was more pronounced as his dark eyes narrowed in recollection.
Call singular, Erin countered coldly.
You can relax, Francesco I dont want your money, if thats what youre worried about.
Erin permitted herself a bitter smile as she wondered what her mother would say if she had heard this statement.
Far from responding to her scornful rejection of his fortune with any sign of visible relief, Francesco merely dismissed her.
Money? I have no interest in money. I have not been calling you every day to talk about money. His hands clenched at his sides as he struggled to contain his sense of outrage.
Every day! Now I know thats not true, she told him, appalled at this outright and not terribly imaginative lie.
For the first week after she had returned to England she had fully expected him to turn up. She had pretty much lived in dreadwell, about half the time had been dread. The shameful fact was the other fifty per cent of the time her feelings had more accurately fallen under the heading of eager, impatient even, sweaty-palmed, heart-thudding anticipation of opening the door and finding him standing there.
But as it turned out there had been no occasion for her to use her specially prepared speech, the one that made allowances for his feelings. It had been humiliating, but in the long run she had told herself a very important lesson.
She had made the mistake of assuming that he wanted their marriage to continue. That he wanted her. And he hadnt even picked up a phone to ask her to come back, to say that he missed her.
The ans
wer was simple, of course, though it had taken her long enough to work it out: he didnt miss her. He had simply written off their marriage, put it down to experience and picked up the threads of his lifecarried on being important and dynamic and stopping conversations when he walked into a room.
When I rang, your mobile was switched off.
I lost the old phone, I think. I dont know where it is. The days immediately following her return to England two months earlier were still something of a blur to her.
Before she could put a name to the flare of emotion that spilled from his dark eyes, Francescos heavy lids lowered concealing his expression under the thick mesh of his lashes. That was careless of you.
Erin gave a wistful little smile and placed a hand lightly to her belly. Even when youre careful, accidents happen.
Did you have any accident in particular in mind?
The edge in his deep accented voice brought her wary glance upwards. What do you mean? she demanded shrilly.
One dark brow lifted to a sardonic angle. Defensive, Erin?
The suggestion brought a guilty flush to her cheeks. NoI just meant accidents, accidents in general. The retort sounded pathetically lame even to her own ears so she was surprised and relieved when Francesco didnt comment on it.
Instead he explained tautly, I have been ringing your home number several times a day for the past four daysyour mother told me you did not wish to speak to me.
My mother! she echoed, an audible thread of uncertainty entering her voice. But she She stopped and bit her lip.
It was entirely possible he spoke the truth. Her mothers antagonism for the man her daughter had married had been instant and the feeling had been mutual. The overnight visit they had made to break the news to her parents in person the week after the wedding had been a total disaster.
Her mother had gone to pieces when Erin had gently explained that she would be moving to Italy, and Francesco had not helped matters by not being at all sympathetic to her distress.
When she had taken him to task over his attitude in private he had informed her that her mother would soon find someone else to take her place as an emotional prop.
She is playing on your guilt, but what do you have to feel guilty about? he asked her.
