Sicilian's Shock Proposal

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘You can tell him when you go through that his assistant just resigned!’

  Sophie merely smiled.

  Ah, Luka, she thought, just a little glad for the chaos she had made for him.

  Like a witch, she walked through the corridors of his life, delivering little hexes.

  She looked around for a moment, taking his world in. There was a large walnut desk, which presumably had been his assistant’s because a computer was on and there was half a cup of coffee by its side, as well as a mirror.

  There was the quiet hum of the air-conditioning and fresh floral displays stood on the side tables. The carpet was thick beneath her feet—luxury at every turn.

  And there, behind that closed door, Sophie knew, was Luka.

  The last time she had knocked on his door he had opened it holding a shirt over his cut and naked from the hips up.

  She doubted she’d be so lucky again.

  She refused to let him glimpse her nervousness by hesitating and she knocked confidently on the door.

  ‘Come in.’

  Confidence faded as, after years of self-imposed abstinence her senses momentarily flared in false hope at the return of his voice.

  Still, Sophie barely recognised her hand as it reached for the handle on the door, the nails glossy and painted, and it wasn’t shaking, as she had thought it would be.

  She was ready to face him.

  For her father she would get through this.

  Into his office she stepped and Sophie stood for a brief slice of time, accepting that again they shared the same part of the planet.

  It must be difficult for him also, Sophie knew, and that was confirmed when he didn’t turn around. She gave them both a moment to acclimatise to the other’s presence—the air was a little thicker there and made no room for the rest of the world.

  Still he did not turn and so she spoke to his straight back and broad shoulders.

  ‘Your assistant asked me to pass on the message that she’s just resigned. Apparently I’m the final straw.’

  Don’t turn around, she wanted to warn him.

  Not just yet.

  Don’t let my heart see you until it’s beating slowly again, but of course it was too late. Slowly he turned and she met navy eyes that, Sophie knew, were better served warm. Today, though, she was grateful they were cold, for it allowed her to maintain a necessary distance when instinct told her to run, though not from him.

  It would actually, Sophie thought, be easier to run across the room and hurdle the desk in her tight dress. It would be far more natural to be in his arms than to simply stand in a room apart from him.

  He offered her a seat and she took it.

  She told him the reason that she was there—that her father might be being released and of the lies she had told about them.

  He pushed every button and so, despite her very best efforts to stay cool, within a few moments she was standing, backed against the desk by him and jabbing her fingers in his chest, telling him that he would do whatever it took to make things right for her father. That he would be her fake fiancé, that he owed her that much.’

  Surprisingly, he agreed, but then he told her he would never marry her. In fact, he spelt it out. ‘I will agree to be your fake fiancé but never your fake husband. Know that now, or get the hell out.’

  There was a brief stand-off but finally Sophie sat.

  ‘Do you want a drink?’ Luka offered, and reached for the phone. ‘I can have some lunch sent up...’ He frowned in slight annoyance when his call wasn’t immediately answered.

  ‘She resigned,’ Sophie reminded him as he replaced the receiver.

  ‘So she did.’

  ‘You could perhaps ring down to Amber,’ Sophie said. ‘I’m sure she’d be only too happy to assist Mr Cavaliere...’

  Perhaps because he heard the disdain in her voice Luka gave a soft, mirthless laugh.

  ‘Have you slept with every woman in this building?’ Sophie asked.

  ‘All the good-looking ones,’ Luka said, and then shrugged. ‘I don’t have to explain myself to you.’ He stood. ‘We’ll go and get lunch.’

  ‘I don’t want to go out for lunch and sit and reminisce. I want to talk...’

  ‘Sophie, I can assure you that I don’t want a cosy lunch and a trip down memory lane. I have a meeting at two that I need to be back for and I’d like to have eaten by then.’

  They took the elevator down and Sophie smiled a pussycat smile again at Amber as they walked through the foyer.

  ‘You’ve got a nerve coming here and calling yourself my fiancée,’ Luka said. He was furious that she could, within the space of half an hour, completely disrupt his life. Amber was sulking, Tara was gone and now, given he had just agreed to be her fiancé, the next few weeks would be a sexless hell, lying in bed beside her.

  ‘I have nerves of steel,’ Sophie said.

  Almost.

  Until she’d gone to Rome, she had hardly been out of Bordo Del Cielo and now she was in a foreign city with a man who was so familiar he felt encoded. It seemed wrong not to touch, not to hold hands, but instead to walk painfully apart down the busy street.

  They entered a restaurant and were led through to the back—clearly he came here often because they greeted him by name. The waft of the aroma of herbs and garlic made her feel a little sick.

  There was a flurry of menus but Luka shook his head. ‘No wine.’

  ‘Am I business?’ Sophie checked, as the wine waiter walked off.

  ‘If you were business,’ Luka said, ‘there would be the finest red breathing now.’

  ‘If I were pleasure?’

  ‘Champagne in bed,’ Luka said. ‘Just one glass for me, though. I’d have to get back to work.’

  ‘So too would Amber?’ Sophie flashed.

  ‘I always give her the afternoon off afterwards,’ Luka retorted. ‘I’m nice like that.’

  She was angry and more so when she saw that Luka was ordering for her—no doubt he didn’t think her capable.

  ‘I can order for myself,’ she flared.

  ‘I’m sure you can,’ Luka said, ‘but I have about thirty-two minutes before I need to get back, I’m hungry, angry and I’m guessing you still eat pasta... This isn’t a nice lunch, Sophie, this is sustenance because I didn’t have time for breakfast.’

  ‘Why was that?’ She couldn’t resist raising her eyebrows and then she knew she had gone too far because he leant across the table and put her straight back in her place.

  ‘Don’t ask me about these last years Sophie. You could have been in them, you chose not to be.’ The waiter came back with two bowls of pasta and Sophie sat bristling as he refilled her water.

  She never cried.

  Never.

  She almost did now, she could feel this sting at the back of her nose. Oh, it wasn’t quite bread and water. But almost. She got pasta and thirty-two minutes of his precious time—she got his attention, but the irritated version of it.

  How might it have been?

  ‘So you work as an events planner?’ Luka checked. ‘Full time?’

  ‘No.’ Sophie shook her head. ‘I mean yes, but I have cleared my diary, given that he might be getting out of prison...’

  ‘That must have cheered your clients.’

  ‘I handed them over to a friend in the business.’

  ‘Good,’ Luka said.

  They talked business, or rather they discussed cold facts.

  He told her about his Rome apartment and while she was there he called the management and told them his fiancée would be moving in.

  ‘Over the weekend,’ Luka said, but as Sophie went to protest he hung up.

  ‘The judgment isn’t till Wednesday.’

  ‘You’ll n
eed time to get your bearings and move some of your things over. Give your name at Reception and they will give you a key and help with your luggage. I’ll be there Tuesday night...’

  ‘Maybe we should wait to see what happens in court.’

  ‘We’ll just have dinner, sort out some final details...’ Luka glanced at the time. ‘I need to get back.’

  Sophie went to stand but he gave her a look that had her halt. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I was going to walk back with you.’

  ‘Why?’ Luka asked. ‘We have said all that we need to for now. I will see you on Tuesday night. I have a lot to sort out between now and then. Just give me your number in case I need to contact you.’

  ‘I’ll contact you.’

  ‘Fine.’

  He walked out of the restaurant and Sophie sat there, watching him disappear into the street, and not once did he look back.

  ‘Could I have the bill?’ Sophie asked, but the waiter shook his head.

  ‘It’s been taken care of’

  She looked at the businessmen ordering coffee, at the groups of laughing friends sharing desserts and the loving couples taking their time over a leisurely lunch with wine.

  It was a long ride back to Heathrow.

  Yet it felt like a very quick flight back to Rome.

  She arrived at Fiumicino airport, where Bella was waiting for her.

  ‘Credeva voi?’ Bella asked.

  ‘Yes, he believed me,’ Sophie answered.

  Luka believed she was rich.

  Luka believed she was successful.

  Even at her very best, he still did not want her.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘THIS COULD HAVE all been yours,’ Bella said, as they walked through Luka’s apartment in Prati on the eve of judgment day for her father.

  They had picked up the keys in Reception and had declined help with her luggage, but as they’d let themselves in both had been blown away.

  Yes, they had seen it online, but walking through it was breath-taking. The tall arched windows were beautifully dressed in heavy fabric. The décor was a mixture of antiques yet there was every modern luxury.

  ‘There’s an internal elevator,’ Bella said. ‘Shall we go up to the rooftop?’

  Sophie shook her head. ‘I’ll explore there later.’

  It was agony to be here and to know it was his.

  Bella had been busy and now in the wardrobe in the main bedroom hung elegant dresses, skirts and jackets and some shoes. Bella had lent Sophie her mother’s heavy silver hairbrush and that was in the large bathroom, along with expensive toiletries they had bought. But even with everything they had managed to cobble together over the last few days, even with all their resources pooled and their savings almost spent, it was just a tiny drop in the ocean compared to Luka’s obvious wealth.

  ‘Doesn’t it make you feel jealous?’ Bella pushed.

  ‘I chose not to go to London with him, remember. Anyway, who knows what would have happened if I had gone? We might not have got on,’ Sophie pointed out ‘One romantic afternoon doesn’t mean that we would have lasted a lifetime. And, anyway, I want nothing that has Malvolio’s name attached to it.’

  ‘Luka works hard.’

  ‘We work hard,’ Sophie said. ‘The only difference is we didn’t get a step up on the ladder. Our parents didn’t give us a share in a hotel to kick our careers off.’

  It was easier to resent him, to sound jealous. It was far easier then admitting the truth—that she missed him so much, every single minute of every single day.

  And as for the nights...

  ‘What time is he getting here?’ Bella asked.

  ‘Any time now,’ Sophie said. ‘We’re going out to dinner to make sure our stories match.’

  ‘Well, just be as expensive as the women where we work. Don’t say sorry to staff and don’t...’ Bella gave her a smile. ‘You’ll be fine. Oh, I got you a present. Actually, two...’

  ‘Bella!’ Sophie scolded when she saw the latest phone. ‘We can’t afford this.’

  ‘Yes, we can. You can hardly pretend to be an event planner and not even have a phone. When you’re done with Luka, I want it if you don’t.’

  ‘What’s this?’ She opened the second present, which was a heavy bottle filled with very expensive perfume. ‘Bella...’

  ‘What woman wouldn’t have perfume in the bathroom.’

  ‘We didn’t have the money for that.’

  ‘Oh, well...’

  ‘You stole this?’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ Bella said. ‘And I don’t feel guilty and I don’t feel ashamed. If that’s the worst thing I do then I am glad to do it for you.’

  Sophie opened the perfume and sprayed it on her wrist and then squirted Bella, who laughed but then it faded.

  She had a question of her own.

  ‘Did he say anything about Matteo?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘I thought they were in business together...’

  ‘We really didn’t talk that much.’

  ‘I’m scared I’m going to find out that Matteo is married. I know he must think I’m still a whore.’

  ‘Matteo paid for you,’ Sophie pointed out.

  There was so much shame for them both.

  ‘I still think about him all the time,’ Bella admitted. ‘Do you think he remembers me?’

  ‘Of course he must,’ Sophie said. ‘But it was years ago, Bella. If seeing Luka again has taught me anything it is that people move on. Luka is busy with his life, his women. He has long since moved on from those days. So too must we. When all this over, you and I are going to chase our dreams. I don’t care what it takes but you are going to go design school and I’m going to have a career.’

  ‘On the ships.’

  ‘Who knows?’ Sophie said. ‘But I’m not going to spend the rest of my life mourning Luka. I want this over and done with.’

  ‘I’m going to go,’ Bella said.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Bella forced a smile. ‘I want all the details. Imagine you and Luka sharing a bed after all this time...’

  Sophie smiled as her friend left but alone she walked nervously around the apartment. The bedroom mocked her, the bed mocked her. It was hard to believe that soon she would be lying in there at night with Luka. That wasn’t all that upset her. It wasn’t just the thought that he had lain in this bed with others that had bile rising like a volcano.

  It was that Luka had had a life, a good one.

  But without her.

  Alone she walked around and then pulled back the antique gate and stepped into the elevator, it was small but luxurious, and she stepped out to a view that under any other circumstances would have taken her breath away.

  Now, again, she was close to tears.

  Rome glittered before her, the view better than any from the hotel because you were actually in it. She could hear the noise from the street below and see the Colosseum and the Vatican. The light was fading and soon the streets would pulse with nightlife yet it was not this view she craved.

  She had never ached to be back in Bordo Del Cielo till now—there were too many dark memories there. Since seeing Luka, though, she craved to be there. She wanted to get back to her secret cove and to be near water that was so clear and cool that it took the sting out of summer.

  Unable to bear it, Sophie headed back down but there was no relief to be had there, for having worked out a room for her father she walked down the main corridor and peered into the bedroom she would share with Luka.

  The room was magnificent, better than the presidential suite at the hotel where she worked.

  The furnishings were heavy and masculine and it would take more than a silver hairbrush and a few dre
sses in the wardrobe to detract from the male energy that stopped her from going in.

  The bed was wide, dressed in muted jewelled tones, and she could not imagine herself lying there with him.

  Worse, she tormented herself by imagining him lying there with another woman.

  ‘Sophie?’ His deep voice made her jump and then spin around on her new high heels.

  ‘I didn’t hear you come in.’

  ‘Did you expect me to knock?’

  ‘Of course not.’ She could hardly bear to meet his gaze. She had seen him angry, she had seen him arrogant and aloof, but she had never seen him like this—there were lines fanning from his eyes and his mouth was grim, his complexion tinged grey, and his tension palpable.

  He looked as if he was dreading this just as much as she was.

  ‘Where do you want to go for dinner?’ he asked.

  ‘We could have something to eat here.’

  ‘I would guess that we’ll be eating here rather a lot,’ Luka said. ‘If your father gets off, I doubt we’ll be going out very much.’

  ‘I don’t expect you to be here all the time,’ Sophie said. ‘We can say that you’re busy with work.’

  ‘He’s dying, Sophie,’ Luka said. ‘And if I were engaged to you, if I did love you, your father knows that I would do more than put in a few cameo appearances.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I’ll give you a tour,’ he offered, but Sophie shook her head.

  ‘I already know my way around.’

  ‘Have you organised a nurse for him?’

  ‘I thought it better to wait and see what happens tomorrow,’ Sophie said, although the truth was there was no way she could afford a private nurse for her father.

  ‘I’m going to go to court in the morning,’ Luka said. ‘I’ll text you with what’s happening.’

  ‘Why would you go to court?’

  ‘To save you from having to go,’ Luka said, and with that simple sentence her heart just about folded in on itself because that was the type of man she had lost. This was what being loved by Luka would mean. ‘Have you any idea how big it is going to be tomorrow with the press and everything?’ he checked.

  ‘I’m starting to,’ Sophie said. ‘I saw on the news that the press are already camping out by the court.’