by Sara Craven
She hadn’t really appreciated its magnificence on her first visit, she thought as she looked around her. She’d been too thrown by finding herself confronting Signor Ottaviano.
‘I hope you will be comfortable here,’ Zac said courteously. ‘Whatever you require, you have only to pick up the phone and ask.’
‘An hour ago I was starving,’ she said. ‘Now I seem to have lost my appetite.’
‘You have had a disturbing day,’ he said. ‘I will order some hot chocolate for you, and then I suggest an early night.’ He saw her stiffen and smiled sardonically. ‘But not with me, carissima. I hope that reassures you.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I mean—no. I don’t need reassurance.’ She paused. ‘What did you mean earlier—about our parting?’
‘We will discuss it another time.’ His tone was dismissive. ‘Now, I will let you rest. A domani, Dana mia. Until tomorrow.’
She watched him walk away across the room, her mind teeming. Knowing there was something she needed to say, but unable to find the words.
It was only when the door had closed behind him that she heard herself whispering, almost desperately, ‘Don’t leave me. Don’t go.’
And felt herself reel in shocked disbelief at her own stupidity.
CHAPTER TEN
‘ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY sure about this?’ said Nicola, her face anxious. ‘I’m not defending Adam—I think he’s behaved abominably and not for the first time—but Zac is seriously not the kind of man you marry on the rebound. And if you’re having any second thoughts, maybe now’s the time to say so.’
Second thoughts, third thoughts and every other kind of thought there is, Dana returned silently. But they’ve changed nothing.
Aloud, she said, ‘It isn’t a bit like that, I promise.’
Although, she thought ruefully, she was damned if she knew what it was like.
She added, ‘And Adam is perfectly entitled to make a new life in Australia.’
Nicola snorted wrathfully. ‘If that was all! But you haven’t heard what he’s been saying—bad-mouthing Zac to anyone who’ll listen. I’d almost forgotten how vindictive he can be when he lets that Mr Charm image slip.’ She paused. ‘Yet you saw how he was with Aunt Mimi.’
‘Yes.’ And with me, Dana thought, biting her lip.
‘He felt she’d made him look a fool, and he could never stand that,’ Nicola went on. ‘And he was furious with me for inviting you for that weekend. Said he thought he’d made sure you were the last person he’d ever see again.’
She pulled a face. ‘And he went ballistic when he discovered Eddie and I were still being married from Mannion. I didn’t dare say that Zac had asked us to be the witnesses at your wedding.’
‘I expect you’re wise,’ Dana said carefully. ‘Now calm down and have some more tea. And another cream cake.’
Nicola surveyed the loaded trolley which had been ceremoniously wheeled into the suite some fifteen minutes before and groaned. ‘Don’t tempt me.’ She gave Dana a quizzical look. ‘How does it feel to be living in the lap of luxury?’
Dana forced a smile. ‘I suppose—luxurious. Would you like the guided tour?’
‘Tea in the sitting room is one thing,’ said Nicola, glancing towards the bedroom. ‘But invading Zac’s privacy is quite another. I’ll pass.’
‘My privacy actually,’ said Dana. ‘Zac is living at his flat.’
‘Good God,’ Nicola said blankly. ‘And I thought the whole reason for this high-speed, low-key wedding was your total inability to keep your hands off each other.
‘After all the world would expect the Belisandro heir to be married by some cardinal in a packed cathedral.’
‘Then the world would be wrong,’ Dana said brightly. ‘Because it will be just the four of us at the registry office, making it a very small day. Zac’s father doesn’t approve of civil marriages and Mrs Latimer has just had an operation, so Aunt Joss doesn’t feel she can leave her.’
‘And your mother?’ Nicola asked gently.
‘I wrote, inviting her, but she hasn’t replied.’ Dana bent her head. ‘When Aunt Joss finally gave me her address in Spain, she warned me I’d be wasting my time.’ She sighed. ‘But at least I know where she is—working in a place called Roberto’s Bar in Altamejo. It doesn’t sound too promising.’
Nicola grimaced sympathetically. ‘Well, my mother won’t be gracing my wedding either. But she and lover-boy have sent me the most incredible emerald bracelet as a wedding present. One look and Eddie took it straight to the bank.’
She paused. ‘So what are you planning to wear at this very quiet wedding?’
‘Nothing,’ said Dana without thinking and Nicola gurgled with laughter.
‘Well, I’d have to blindfold Eddie, and the registrar, but Zac would probably be delighted.’
Dana groaned. ‘You can joke,’ she said. ‘But I’ve been searching through every department store in London, and I can’t find anything remotely suitable.’
‘Then we’ll go together. I know loads of places,’ Nicola said confidently. ‘You’d better make a list. I suppose you’re going somewhere exotic on honeymoon so you’ll need beachwear and pretty floaty things for the evenings.’
‘Actually, no,’ Dana said reluctantly. ‘We aren’t having a honeymoon—or not immediately. Zac will be travelling to Europe almost at once, dealing with the problems thrown up at the conference. And as it will be wall to wall meetings, starting at breakfast and going on until late into the night, I’ll be staying at Mannion.’
She smiled. ‘Making sure all the refurbishment is done in time for your wedding.’
‘To blazes with that,’ Nicola said vigorously. ‘You should be with Zac on this European tour. He must surely intend to go to bed at some point between meetings, and sex, quite apart from anything else, is a great stress buster.’
Dana forced a smile. ‘I get the impression he thrives on stress. Anyway, he’s quite adamant. He goes. I stay.’
And she was thankful for it, she told herself when Nicola had departed and she was alone again, remembering Zac’s slanting smile as he gave her the news, adding softly, ‘So, for a while, you will be spared my constant company, mia bella.’
Although she would still have to undergo the ordeal of their wedding night and all those other nights before he left. There was no escape from that.
As Zac had reminded her. ‘The interior design of the house, Dana mia, is your domain.’ Adding softly, ‘As you will be mine.’
Because their marriage was only a trade. Her body for his house.
That’s what he was telling her again. What his touch had said long before the startling moment when he’d proposed to her and been accepted.
So why, in that case, was she still sleeping alone in a bed as wide as the ocean?
Not that she wanted anything else, she added hastily. But this delaying of the inevitable was making her nervous.
I don’t understand it, she thought. I don’t understand him.
Was it forbearance, sparked by some innate awareness of her inexperience, or was he playing a cat and mouse game with her senses? Keeping her deliberately on a knife-edge of uncertainty?
Whichever—it ultimately made no difference. Because she would never be his in the way that Mannion would be hers. Never belong to him, because she already belonged to Mannion.
And nothing, she told herself defiantly, would ever change that.
* * *
It was a very conventional ring. Just a plain circlet created from a modest lump of gold, not wide enough to reach her knuckle, or studded with precious stones.
Something she’d not expected, like the way Zac had touched the gold to his lips before slipping it on to her finger.
It felt alien on her hand, its gleam always catching her eye, s
he thought, nervously smoothing the cream silk of her wedding dress over her knees.
Nicola had been as good as her word, taking her on a whirlwind tour of more boutiques and small designer shops than Dana had known existed, and firmly refusing to listen to her ‘no honeymoon’ excuses.
‘If he’s going to be away, all the more reason to welcome him back in something glamorous,’ she’d ordained sternly.
So Dana had capitulated, albeit reluctantly. But she had to admit, after years of strict budgeting, it was fun to splurge on the kind of clothes she’d never expected to afford, let alone wear.
Her wedding dress had been her first purchase. She’d noticed it at once, half hidden in an array of glittering evening wear, catching her breath as she lifted it from the rail.
It was a simple slip of a dress, figure-skimming but beautifully cut, with a low square bodice and cap sleeves, and the moment she’d tried it on, she knew it was the one.
She’d stared at herself in the dressing room mirror, seeing a girl with flushed cheeks and eyes alight with excitement. And for an instant had allowed herself to wonder how Zac would see her. What he would think.
Well, she now had the answer to that, which was—very little. His face as she entered the wedding room had been expressionless. She’d thanked him haltingly for the exquisite bouquet of cream roses he’d sent her and he’d simply replied, ‘Di niente,’ then turned to the registrar, who was waiting to begin.
After they’d exchanged vows, he’d bent and brushed her mouth with his, so lightly and formally that it was hardly a kiss at all.
Over the lunch at the Ritz with Nic and Eddie which followed, he’d been a faultlessly charming host. But now they were alone, they’d shared a well nigh silent journey.
Perhaps it had occurred to him that this hasty marriage might not be the best idea he’d ever had, Dana thought, her throat tightening in sudden, sharp desolation. And if so, what would she do? Or rather, she amended hastily, what would happen to Mannion?
But if he’d changed his mind about their bargain, he’d had plenty of time to say so prior to the wedding. Especially as they’d already had what almost amounted to their first quarrel when Dana had learned he intended them to occupy the great master bedroom.
‘You decided this without asking me?’ she’d flung at him. ‘When there are so many other rooms? Why that one?’
‘Because it is the master bedroom,’ he’d returned coldly. ‘And, like it or not, Dana mia, I mean to be the master.’
He’d studied her flushed, mutinous face. ‘Or do you anticipate finding Adam’s shadow falling across our bed? It will not, I promise you.’
Her colour had deepened not with guilt but annoyance. Because, she realised bitterly, a simple denial that Adam, now safely in Australia, had ever entered her mind would sound as lame as the actual truth—that she’d never liked the room with its massive four-poster bed and deep crimson wallpaper, even when it was occupied by Serafina. That she’d always found it gloomy and oppressive.
But he hadn’t consulted her. So much for the house being her domain, she thought biting her lip. Whatever decisions she might make, Zac would always have the power to overrule her.
My master too, she’d thought angrily. In every way.
And when she spoke, her tone was curt, disguising the fact that her throat had closed in panic. ‘Think what you like.’
She knew that he too was angry, and their parting that evening had been cool.
And there’d been no sign since that he’d rethought his decision.
For the first time, her usual sense of excitement when she saw Mannion from the top of the hill was replaced by apprehension.
When they reached the drive, she could see a team of men working in the garden, which was almost back to its old pristine condition. Mr Godstow, now retired, would have been proud, she thought.
Zac parked the car at the main entrance and came round to open the passenger door, handing Dana her bouquet from the back seat.
The door was standing open and Dana could see Mrs Harris waiting in the hall to greet them. But she’d hardly taken a step when Zac swept her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold into the house.
On the point of struggling, Dana remembered just in time that they had an audience.
She was aware too of Zac whispering something in her ear before he set her on her feet but she was too unnerved by finding herself held so closely to make out what he’d said.
Mrs Harris stepped forward. ‘It’s very good to see you, sir, and you, madam,’ she said. ‘All the work you requested has been done, and I hope you’ll find it satisfactory. May I say, also, that I wish you and Mrs Belisandro every happiness.’
She paused, looking awkward. ‘And there’s a Mr Fleming waiting in the book room, sir. I believe he’s expected.’
‘I will see him now,’ Zac said. ‘While you show my wife to our room.’ He took Dana’s nerveless hand and kissed it lightly. ‘A matter of business, but I shall not keep you waiting long, mia cara,’ he added softly.
She stammered something and turned almost precipitately to follow the housekeeper up the stairs, her mind whirling.
Surely, she thought, he didn’t mean that as it sounded.
She’d thought she’d be allowed a breathing space.
Time to adjust to this new and difficult situation.
But she could hardly protest. This, after all, was what she’d signed up to. And Zac was a businessman. Whether it was day or night, he would expect his money’s worth.
They had reached their destination, she realised, and Mrs Harris was throwing open the door with something of a flourish, and standing back to allow Dana to precede her into the room.
‘I do hope you’ll be pleased, madam.’
A better word would be ‘astounded,’ Dana thought as she looked around her. Because she barely recognised her new surroundings.
The great canopied bed had gone, along with the rest of the enormous dark furniture, to be replaced by a wide, low divan, with an elegant headboard in the same pale honey-coloured wood as the pretty antique dressing table and the night tables flanking the bed.
The walls were now ivory, as were the curtains at the long windows, which were embellished with a delicate tracery of leaves and flowers in gold, a design matched by the bedcover.
‘So nice that this room is being used again,’ said Mrs Harris. ‘Mr Adam, of course, preferred to sleep in his old room, but, even so, I was sorry when he decided to get rid of the bed, although it wasn’t my place to say so. But the room’s certainly more cheerful without it.’
She walked across to a door. ‘Your bathroom and dressing room are through here, madam. Mr Belisandro’s dressing room and shower are reached by that door opposite.
‘It’s been a real rush getting everything ready,’ she went on. ‘But I think it’s been worth it.’
‘Yes,’ Dana said rather faintly. ‘It’s—beautiful. Absolutely amazing.’
Mrs Harris beamed at her. ‘Mr Belisandro will be glad to hear that, madam. He insisted that everything be exactly right for you.’
‘He’s—very considerate,’ Dana agreed quietly. She became aware that she was still clutching her roses, and Mrs Harris noticed it too.
‘May I put those in water for you, madam, while you have a proper look round?’
‘Why, yes. Thank you.’ Dana surrendered her bouquet to the housekeeper, who bustled away with it.
Investigation showed that her part of the suite had been created from the adjoining large bedroom.
She could not fault the dressing room, lined with fitted wardrobes on one side and drawers and smaller cupboards on the other, already filled with the trousseau that had been sent down two days earlier. While the bathroom beyond it was a dream, with its deep tub and roomy shower, all en
closed in tiles gleaming like mother-of-pearl, and giving the impression that she would be bathing in an enormous shell.
As she returned to the bedroom, she glanced across at the other door, but decided against investigating what arrangements Zac had made for himself, telling herself just to be glad that they were separate.
She wandered over to the dressing table and studied herself in its mirror. She was sure most brides didn’t look so wide-eyed and nervous or have lines of strain etched beside their mouths.
It occurred to her that until now she’d been cocooned in an aura of unreality, telling herself that she would never be called on to ratify her unholy bargain.
Yet here she was. And with no one to blame but herself for her predicament.
She wondered, with a sudden shiver, how she’d be feeling if her original plan had worked. If it was Adam with the right to share that bed and impose his demands on her.
Except it would never have happened, she thought slowly. Because somewhere along the way the real Adam would have surfaced and I’d have run, even though it meant losing Mannion.
And that being the case, why didn’t I tell Zac I’d changed my mind and get out while I still could?
Only to realise, as if some veil in her mind had been suddenly torn aside, the truth she’d been hiding from for the past seven years.
And exactly why she was standing here now, waiting for her husband to join her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DANA TURNED AWAY from the mirror, shivering. Rejecting the image of this stranger who had shocked her into more emotional turmoil than she’d ever dreamed possible.
I don’t want to know her, she thought desperately as she began to tremble. I don’t understand where she’s come from. I only know that I can’t afford to live in her head—or her heart.
Because to think how she thinks—to feel what she might feel—would be utter madness. Besides, it’s not true—any of it. It can’t be...
It was better—safer to believe what she was experiencing was simply a recurrence of an old dangerous obsession that she’d believed—prayed—was dealt with and gone.
