by Rachel Lyndhurst; Carmen Falcone; Ros Clarke; Annie Seaton; Christine Bell
“That’s why I’m standing over here, Grigor. It’s the only way I can keep my hands off her.”
The Russian oligarch sniggered and then put the back of his hand against his lips to suppress a burp. “I bet you can’t wait to get her out of here and back into bed, eh?”
Lorenzo winked at him. He could play this game if that’s what the old devil wanted. “Could you?”
“If I wasn’t happily married to my wonderful wife of forty years, I would certainly be tempted. In fact, I’d pay you billions to step aside and let me have her.”
Lorenzo felt an unexpected burst of anger, but he managed to control it. This was not the time and place to give into adolescent-type jealousy; he needed to remain in control. “She’d never be bought—too much fire and rebellion in her to be owned by any man.”
“But you have tamed her, Ferrante. I congratulate you. And she looks as stunning in scruffy shorts as she does in that designer dress now.”
“Shorts?”
“We met in Sorrento. She was off out to visit Vesuvius, and we had a little chat in your hotel lobby.” Pontecorvo winked and took another sip of his drink. “It’s a small world.”
Lorenzo didn’t believe in coincidences. “If I was a suspicious man, I’d suspect you’d been spying on us, Grigor.”
The Russian shot him a wry smile. “Such a thing to say… You’ll be suggesting I followed you to Taormina next and watched her play in the sand with your adorable daughters.”
So Pontecorvo had been spying on them. Another barb of protective anger hit him, but he smiled through and suppressed the furious reaction Pontecorvo was probably expecting. He had anticipated that there would be spies checking up on them, but for some reason he assumed the Oligarch would pay someone else to do his dirty work. “Yes, they’re adorable. My world. I’m a very lucky man.”
“I spoke to your Lora again earlier this evening. She clearly worships you, the light in her eyes when your name is mentioned…” Grigor sighed and fixed Lorenzo with a piercing look. “I am so pleased you are to be married soon. I shall expect an invitation to the wedding.”
“Of course.”
“Have you decided on a venue, a date?”
Lorenzo sensed dangerous territory; he was being tested even at this late stage. “There are numerous options, and Lora hasn’t made her mind up yet. But she will soon. I will insist on it.”
“Good, good.” Grigor looked around the room for a moment. “And Ivanka’s not causing you any trouble about remarrying?”
“We are divorced, she has her settlement, and it’s nothing to do with her, so no.”
“Excellent. It would make me sad to see her come crawling back to you. I have no time for any of her family, as you know. There’s bad history there. A new wife, a real wife is what you need now to draw a line under that period of history.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Lorenzo clinked the rim of his glass against Grigor’s. “Here’s to long, happy marriages.”
“I don’t do business with playboys,” the Russian said and took a swig of champagne. “Untrustworthy. Always.”
As if he didn’t know! “I don’t blame you,” Lorenzo said and took a quick swig himself, wondering how long the small talk torture would go on.
“Then let’s get on with it as soon as possible,” Grigor said. “Sign our agreement, make sure all the funds transfer properly, and then you can spend the rest of the evening with your stunning fiancée.”
“Sounds good.” Lorenzo congratulated himself on not sounding too relieved. He grew more anxious to sign their deal and get back to Lora. Throughout his chat with the Russian, he’d been thinking back to the conversation he’d had with Lora in their suite and how his world had suddenly been turned on its axis. A vast iron door had opened in his mind, and the dark corners of his soul had been illuminated. Getting out of Sicily was making him think more clearly. He was beginning to realize how things could turn out even better for him out of all this. He was beginning to feel things more acutely than he ever had, and his heart thumped painfully in his chest. How had he suppressed the glaring truth for so long? His heart was being stolen and the barricade around his heart was being torn down. He didn’t want to start this new life on his own.
He needed to speak to Lora.
He needed to get her on her own immediately.
Chapter Sixteen
Lora felt his presence behind her before he even spoke, alerted by the turning of female heads and whispered giggles. And Raisa Pontecorvo’s twinkling eyes.
“There you are, Lora,” Lorenzo said and placed a lingering kiss on the flesh between her neck and shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”
Lora turned and was surprised by the broad smile on his face. Was it possible that he and the Russian had already done the deed? “And I’ve missed you, too,” she said, quickly remembering her manners. “But Raisa has been telling me all about the estate here, their plans to turn it into a luxury spa.”
“And your future wife is a therapist!” The apple-cheeked mistress of the house patted her fondly on the forearm. “If she wasn’t going to be Signora Ferrante any day soon, I’d offer her a job. Such a lovely girl, Lorenzo. I’m so pleased for you both.”
Lora was sorely tempted to say that just because she was getting married, which of course she wasn’t, it didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to have a career anymore. But she simply smiled as Lorenzo threaded his warm fingers through hers.
“The party has been wonderful, as always, Raisa, but I need to steal Lora away for a short while. Can you forgive me?”
Lora’s heart sank as Raisa’s laugh tinkled in her ears, and he led her away through a pair of French doors onto the terrace. No fanfare, no explosions, just a tiny puff of something dying inside her as he drew her from the chattering crowds and into the cool night air. It must all be over now, the agreement signed and the job done.
“So do you have your billions?”
“Not yet,” he said and paused by the stone columns of the terrace outside. “But soon. And when it’s over, we can all start again.”
“It seems strange, almost too easy,” she murmured and looked up at the golden moon. “Nothing’s gone wrong. I was so frightened that it would.”
“The hard work that went into it beforehand made sure that everything went smoothly. You played your part to perfection.” He turned to face her and placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. “And I don’t want this to end here. I want it to carry on.”
A lump formed in her throat. “What do you mean?”
“I’m selling all my Italian portfolio of assets to give myself and my family a clean break, a new start somewhere beautiful, warm, and clean. There’s enough money now to provide for many generations to come so we can do what we want to with our lives, not what we are compelled to do in order to survive. Not many people are able to do that for their children. ” He pulled her closer, and she could feel the heat of his body through the thin silk of his shirt. “I want you to come with us, Lora. I want you to be my wife for real. Let’s get married.”
Her hands felt cold, and she could tell they were shaking as he waited for a reaction. Hadn’t she wanted this in the hidden depths of her heart? Wasn’t being the Ferrante bride for real all that she longed for after their time together? Hadn’t she let herself fall in love with this man and his children? She had done all those things, but now it felt as if he’d shot her in the stomach rather than proposed marriage. It wasn’t a proper proposal; he hadn’t even asked her! He’d issued a statement declaring his current wants without even bothering to think about her feelings. There had been no mention of love, but there wouldn’t be, would there? That’s not why Sicilian men got married. And nice things never, ever happened to her…
“No, Lorenzo, we can’t.”
He looked genuinely stunned for a second. “Why not?”
“Why not?” She peeled his hands away from her. “Because marriage should no more be a business transaction than an engagement sh
ould. I don’t want to extend our contractual arrangement, and I can’t do it.”
“What are you talking about? No more contracts, no more terms.”
“Of course there would be, that’s what a marriage without love is: a document, something that can be dissolved at will if you have enough money for good lawyers. You’ve done it before, remember? And getting rid of Ivanka cost you a lot.”
“This is different. Our marriage will be forever.”
“Is that what you think? Our marriage isn’t going to happen.” She balled her hands into fists. “And I certainly wouldn’t marry a man who only ever got married because his parents told him to!”
“Ivanka was a business thing, my father’s doing, and you know that. It’s history and I’m not proud of it, but—”
“I’m talking about Rosa. I heard what she said to you in Taormina, and clearly you’ve had some time to think about the sense it would make. Dear compliant Lora, slap a ring on her finger, whisk her away to a foreign country, and you get sex on tap and an instant nanny for your children. Perfect!”
“You stood and listened to us? Like a spy?” His eyes flashed dangerously in the moonlight. “So tell me then, what are you going back to in England, Lora? What? I can’t believe there’s anything there that I can’t offer you in the Caribbean.”
He must think she was as mercenary as he was, but he couldn’t seduce her with material possessions and an easy life. “A rented studio flat, a rented treatment room, and a few tins of spaghetti. But at least there are no more care home debts to pay for a while.”
He raised a dark eyebrow. “So at least my money was good enough for you and your brother. You’re not tempted to throw it back in my face?”
“No, you’ve ruined my life, I’ll take it as compensation.” Even if she did give it all to charity when she got back to England…
He shook his head in disbelief and thrust his hands into his trouser pockets. “And how have I ruined your life?”
What could she possibly say? The truth would be too humiliating. She couldn’t come out now and say that she’d fallen in love with him, that her heart was breaking at never being able to play with Fina and Bee again, or watch them grow up into the beautiful young women he so wanted them to be. She couldn’t tell him that she was already mourning the life and children they could never have together because he didn’t love her and never would.
“You just have.” The petulance in her voice sounded vile, and she hated herself for not delivering a smarter line.
“You’ll have to do better than that.” Lorenzo grabbed the top of her arm and held on tight. “You might be pregnant. That day in the forest, remember? You can’t conveniently ignore what we did, and I won’t let you go like this. You don’t want to go either; admit it!”
She jerked her chin upward, and her whole body tensed. “I’m not pregnant.” She wrested her arm from his grip. “My period started about an hour ago. Besides, you said you didn’t want any more children. You must be relieved.”
“That’s below the belt and you know it, but speaking of children, Fina and Bee will be devastated. They adore you, Lora.” He reached out his hand to touch her again, but she took a step backward. “I didn’t have the heart to tell them you would be leaving yesterday. I couldn’t, and I didn’t, because subconsciously I must have realized that us getting married for real made sense. It had nothing to do with what my mother said, those feelings were there before that conversation ever happened, but there was no way I was going to tell her that, not in that drunken state.” He let out an exasperated breath. “Why are you denying yourself happiness, Lora? I don’t understand you.”
“I’m saving myself from pain and heartbreak, but you don’t see that side of things because you choose not to. You’ve just assumed I’ll abandon my career and family in England because you want me to—that you can be everything to me in this world.”
“Can’t I? That’s not what I see in your eyes when I’m making love to you every morning, when you’re crying out my name. You don’t need anyone or anything else except me.”
“That’s just great sex, Lorenzo.” She saw a muscle working in his jaw. Tension was building, but she carried on. “This whole thing started because of my mother and brother. If I didn’t care for her wellbeing, I would never have even considered getting involved in your horrible deception. And then my brother blackmailed me when I said I didn’t want to be your fake fiancée at any price. I still care for my mother, and she still needs me even if it’s only to protect her from Geoffrey and his wife. God knows what they’re capable of in their pursuit of money. I can’t leave her and my business to run off with you.”
“I can fix that, make sure she’s well cared for.”
“And ‘fix’ my brother, too? Listen to yourself! You’re fixing, planning, and deciding my life for me. I don’t want to give up the career I’ve worked so hard to build and become your pampered sex toy and nanny. Has that ever occurred to you? Are you really expecting me to give up my independent life and assume the role of the perfect little Sicilian wife your mamma described?”
“Of course not, that would be ridiculous.”
“But you’re quite happy for us all to move in together on some Caribbean island you’ve bought. Well let me tell you this: I don’t want to move in with my own mother so I certainly don’t want to move in with yours!”
“Mamma will have her own house, it’s not an issue, but you and I are. You can’t tell me you don’t like having sex with me and that you don’t like my kids—what more do you want? Tell me and I’ll make it happen.”
She took a deep breath. “If I married you, it would end in tears eventually. You told me yourself you never wanted to do it again, and when you get bored there will be another divorce, you’ll move the next nanny in, and the whole sorry saga will continue. I can’t be part of that. I’m worth more.”
“You didn’t answer my challenge.”
For a second, guilt immobilized her when she thought about leaving Fina and Bee without a mother figure. Perhaps she should marry him for their sake? But she brushed the thought away; it wasn’t a good enough reason to marry someone who didn’t love her. The dark, determined look on Lorenzo’s face galvanized her into action. She needed to get away before he talked her around or saw that she was lying through her teeth. She knew he would if she wasn’t strong enough to stick the knife in hard. “I don’t like having sex with you and I don’t like your kids. Happy now?”
“You’re lying.”
“Think what you like.”
Lorenzo leaned both hands on the stone wall of the terrace and his head dropped as if he was catching his breath and then flicked it angrily back up. “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to beg you to stay, is that it? You want to see me on my knees?”
All Lorenzo had to do was to say he loved her, and she’d go to the end of the earth with him. He must know that, but he couldn’t say it, and he wouldn’t say it because it wasn’t true. But she’d give him the chance. “I want a family of my own one day with a man who loves me. You have your family, and I adore the girls, but it’s not enough for me, and you’ve said all along that you won’t even consider the idea. And you don’t love me because if you did you’d be able to say so.”
“Children can break your heart, Lora. They’re hard work and—”
“And you can’t say it, can you? I. Love. You.”
He continued to stare down over the balcony, knuckles white and the muscles in his jaw clenching repeatedly. His silence was confirmation of everything she knew. He didn’t love her, and that knowledge gave her the courage to finally say their last good-bye, however painful it was.
“I don’t want anything from you, I never did, and I would never ask for something you wouldn’t freely give. I’ve done my bit in getting you the Pontecorvo deal. Our short fling has reached a natural finale, and there are no ends to tie up. It’s all over now, so don’t make a scene or somebody might notice. I’m sure you don’t wa
nt Pontecorvo to think love’s young dream has turned into a nightmare just before he pays over all that money.”
Lorenzo glared out over the dusky countryside, his broad shoulders stiff and hunched. His voice sounded husky and broken. “You’re not listening or thinking this through. Things have changed.”
“Don’t tell me there’s a brand new ‘no splitting up clause’ or something that’s been added to your deal?”
He remained silent, and she watched his silhouetted Adam’s apple move as he swallowed and closed his eyes. She waited for a response that never came but spoke silent volumes to her—she was still merely a pawn in his sordid world, a gambling chip, a bauble that was being traded like her brother’s gambling debt. She meant nothing more to him than that, and he wasn’t even trying to pretend otherwise.
Lora jumped at the sound of the French doors slamming behind them and turned to see a furious-looking Pontecorvo walking toward them.
“Not interrupting anything, am I?” he barked. “A lover’s tiff perhaps? A deal breaker?”
“Pontecorvo…” Lorenzo was by her side immediately, draping a long protective arm over her shoulders that she wanted to shrug off after the conversation they’d just had, but she sensed danger. Siberian fire blazed in the Russian’s bulging eyes and the color was high in his loose jowls. “We’re fine. Are you? Too much champagne making the heartburn worse, my old friend?”
“Don’t fool with me, Ferrante, you know what happens to people who betray me.”
“Betray you?” His body stiffened and his arm dropped. “What are you talking about?”
“Unless it is only her who has betrayed you?” He thrust a large white envelope toward them, and Lorenzo quickly pulled out the contents. Photographs, big shiny ones. Blurred glossy snaps of Lora and his half-brother in extremely compromising positions.
Lora gasped with horror as he leafed through each one and then repeated the process for what seemed like forever.
