‘How is it possible you grow more beautiful every time I see you?’ he whispered in her ear.
Her heart danced in her chest. ‘You don’t look half bad yourself.’ She tried to stifle her nerves but her voice still shook.
‘Thanks,’ he said, giving her hand a squeeze. ‘Shall we make this official?’ he said, glancing at the priest before them.
Sienna looked at the priest in his golden robes. Until this moment it had all seemed like a bit of a game. Now . . . Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. She swallowed, nerves threatening to overwhelm her.
‘I don’t think I can do this,’ she said, hauling in a shuddering breath.
‘You’re doing great,’ Antonio murmured soothingly. ‘I’ll be with you every step of the way.’ He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly. ‘Okay?’
His soft caress infused her soul with a fragile confidence. She nodded and allowed Antonio to lead her to the altar.
As the priest held his arms wide open to welcome the congregation, Sienna closed her eyes. I’m doing the right thing. I’m doing the right thing.
But her thoughts did nothing to assuage her doubt.
The service was traditional and beautiful. All too soon Sienna found herself saying ‘I do’.
‘I now pronounce you man and wife,’ the priest announced. ‘You may kiss the bride.’
Time slowed as Antonio lifted her gossamer veil. His smouldering gaze sent a tingling from her stomach to her toes. He slipped his arms about her waist and drew her close.
‘Hello, Mrs Moretti,’ he said with a dangerously sexy smile.
Mrs Moretti. Panic rose in her chest. Her breath caught in her throat. She’d said her vows on autopilot with no thought for their meaning. She’d just wanted to navigate the ceremony without making a mistake. But now, by law, she’d committed to this man.
Till death do us part.
What had she done?
‘Sienna.’ Antonio’s deep voice cut through the frenzied terror that gripped her.
Her gaze whipped back to his eyes. The tenderness she found in those dark depths shocked her.
‘You were wonderful,’ he said in a low voice. He gently caressed her back. ‘We’re nearly there. I’ll look after you. Okay?’
She nodded.
His lips met hers in a gentle kiss that held such passion she had to blink back tears. Tears of confusion, happiness, fear. A kiss like that held true meaning.
Didn’t it?
The cathedral resonated with wild applause. When they separated, she stepped slightly behind Antonio. She felt exposed, as if the whole cathedral could read her mind. Could Antonio tell he’d touched more than her lips? That he reached into her soul?
‘No, you don’t,’ he said, drawing her from behind him and taking her arm. ‘You’re Mrs Antonio Moretti. Morettis always stand proud.’
Sienna walked through the rest of the ceremony in a blur. She barely heard the familiar strains of Pachelbel’s Canon In D Major as Antonio led her to the small vestibule at the side of the altar. She hesitated when presented with the marriage register. Her hand shook as she signed her name. While she watched the ink dry, panic crept over her skin.
Antonio took her hands. ‘The hard part’s over,’ he said. ‘You were magnificent.’
‘If you say so,’ she managed.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s go celebrate.’
When they emerged back into the main cathedral, the crowd cheered again. Antonio escorted her down the steps. Brad stepped forward.
‘Congratulations, Sienna,’ he said, giving her a quick hug. ‘Everything is fine at the Plaza. Your father sends his love. I’ve given Antonio —’
‘Thanks, Brad,’ Antonio interrupted. Sienna noticed Antonio’s dark look. ‘We’ll see you at the reception.’
Antonio walked her slowly down the aisle to a torrent of congratulations. When they reached the sunlight, the cameras flashed. Sienna held tightly to his arm.
‘That went well,’ he said softly. ‘Now let’s give them what they really want.’
He dipped her backwards. His lips claimed hers with molten passion. Blazing unadulterated desire roared through her body. Her mouth clung to his as though her life depended on the connection. Something had changed. She’d glimpsed a different side of Antonio at the altar. Something . . .
The roar of the crowd brought her back to the present. Journalists hurled questions. Called her name.
‘Sienna, is it true —’ She couldn’t hear the rest of the questions, so she just smiled.
‘Sienna, why isn’t your family here?’
‘Sienna’s father isn’t well. He was unable to make the journey,’ Antonio answered for her.
‘Antonio, do you think your parents would’ve liked Sienna?’
Sienna felt Antonio stiffen at her side. Her gaze flashed to his face. Antonio stared at the journalist, fury in his eyes. Sienna bit her lip, shocked at the dramatic change in his demeanour.
‘Thank you, everyone,’ he said with cool authority, holding up his hands to stem the tide of questions. ‘We must go.’
He took her arm and walked her down the steps to the waiting cruiser. Antonio helped settle her onto the leather seat. Camera flashes highlighted an unfathomable mask that had descended over Antonio’s features. Any expressions of tenderness or passion had vanished.
He sat next to her and barked instructions at the driver. The air around them sizzled with tension.
‘Are you all right?’ she asked, laying her hand over his. He pulled away.
‘Of course,’ he said, staring forward as the boat pulled out into the canal. People lined the streets shouting congratulations and waving. Some threw flowers. But she couldn’t enjoy the scene with Antonio sitting rigid at her side. She knew she shouldn’t, but . . .
‘That journalist . . . he asked about your parents.’
He turned his thunder on her. ‘No one talks about my family.’ His voice simmered with barely checked anger. ‘Not some slimy journalist, not the poisonous gossip-mongers —’ he waved at the crowds, ‘— and certainly not you.’ He turned his eyes from her.
The air rushed from her lungs as she shrank back in her seat. Her hands trembled. She clasped them together in her lap, fearing the shaking would spread through her whole body. It couldn’t be like this between them. They’d just been married. Just kissed and connected on a level beyond the mere confines of the contract they’d signed.
‘Antonio —’
‘Stop,’ he said, turning to her once again. ‘I think we need to acknowledge that the wedding has brought up some unwanted emotions in both of us.’
So he’d felt it too.
‘The music, the service, you looking . . .’ He swallowed and looked forward once more. ‘Let’s just remember this marriage is about getting what we both want. It’s important there is no confusion.’
‘Antonio —’
‘I think perhaps it’s best if we don’t talk now.’ He edged away from her on the seat. ‘We still have the reception to get through. Wave and smile.’
He plastered a smile across his face and waved brightly at the crowds. When they’d travelled clear of the throng, he pulled some papers from his pocket. A few pages fluttered onto the seat between them. He glanced at her as he snatched them up and placed them back in his pocket. What was that in his eyes? Guilt?
He felt into his other pocket and pulled out another document. ‘My speech,’ he said. He stared at the pages.
She looked away and gazed unseeingly as the ancient city floated past her. For those few moments at the church she’d felt she could do this. With Antonio supporting her, she could live this lie, save her hotel and keep her father in the land of the living.
But now?
She felt helpless and alone. So very alone.
Half an hour later, after photos at a discreet location, the cruiser glided up to the hotel. The entire staff stood at the entrance in a guard of honour. The sight was reminiscent of a lo
rd returning to his stately home, like a scene from a Jane Austen novel.
As Antonio helped Sienna up the stone steps from the canal, the staff broke into applause.
Carmela hurried forward, tears in her eyes. She tried to speak but instead hugged them both in turn, muttering congratulations over and over.
‘Thank you,’ Antonio said, as he swept Sienna into the hotel and escorted her to the entrance of the grand ballroom. Two doormen stood to attention. ‘Ready?’ he asked her.
Sienna took a deep breath. ‘As I’ll ever be.’
The doors opened onto the most lavish spectacle Sienna had ever seen. The room was a sea of white and gold. It looked like something from a fairytale. Metre-high vases stood in the middle of each table featuring a cascade of white roses, lilies, tulips and flowing ivy. Candlelight reflected in cut-crystal glasses. A string quartet played beautifully off to the side.
‘Presenting Signor e Signora Moretti,’ one of the doormen announced. Every eye in the crowded room turned upon them. The applause was as lavish as the room.
Sienna held on to Antonio’s arm tightly as they walked to the wedding table. He settled her into her chair, then beckoned for a microphone.
‘Welcome, everyone, and let the party begin.’ Another ovation rippled across the room.
The reception was a blur of strangers, fabulous food and expensive champagne. Sienna barely touched her meal as Antonio chatted to a parade of famous people. He introduced her to each one, but she mostly just nodded and smiled. She had nothing in common with the beautiful, wealthy, self-absorbed crowd. Divorced from Antonio, she knew she’d never see any of them again.
Sienna glanced across the crowd. She caught the eye again of an elderly couple sitting at the table next to hers. Like her, they barely ate and sat quietly, just watching. They also seemed to be staring at her a great deal. It had begun to unnerve her.
‘Antonio, who are those people?’ she asked.
Antonio looked over. ‘Those are the most important people in the room,’ he said in a low voice. ‘My aunt and uncle.’
‘Really?’ Sienna thought Antonio rated any number of famous people ahead of his own family. Nothing about him said family man.
‘Of course. They own the hotel on Lake Como – Villa Paradiso.’
Sienna’s mouth fell open as she registered what Antonio had said. She looked at the couple sitting closely together as if shielding themselves from the swirl of lavishness around them.
She turned to Antonio. It took her a moment before she could speak.
‘You did all this to deceive your own family.’ Her voice rose in anger.
‘Quiet,’ he said harshly. ‘Someone will hear you.’
Sienna looked at the couple again. They were in their seventies at least. When she’d signed up for this ridiculous plan, she’d pictured . . . well, she didn’t know what she’d pictured. She hadn’t really thought about the people who owned the hotel Antonio wanted. She’d only thought of saving the Plaza. Saving her father from more loss, more grief. But this . . .
‘I have to go.’ She stood and pushed back her chair.
‘Sit down,’ Antonio commanded.
‘No,’ she said, stepping from the table.
Antonio leapt up and eased her back into her chair. ‘Do I have to remind you of the implications if you renege on this contract?’ he said, his voice hard and ruthless.
Sienna said nothing but sat stunned in her chair.
‘If you blow this,’ he said, sitting down, ‘I’ll have Brad fly to Melbourne tonight and take possession of the Plaza immediately.’
He smiled and waved to a guest. She didn’t think she hated anyone more than Antonio at that moment. She despised herself for thinking she’d felt something for him earlier.
‘Think of your father,’ he said, his tone a little softer.
She turned her furious eyes to his. ‘Leave my father out of this.’
‘Fine, but you do what you’re being paid to do.’
His words smashed her anger aside. She sucked in a sharp breath. I’m nothing more than a paid escort. Being paid to marry a man, what did that make her? The word whore flashed through her mind. Burning tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked hard.
‘They’re coming over,’ Antonio hissed in her ear as he raised her to her feet.
Sienna looked up. Bile rose in her throat.
‘You need to be ready,’ Antonio said urgently. ‘Can you do this or not?’
Sienna wanted to slap him across the face and scream every vile name she could think of. But the thought of her father’s grief-stricken face checked her. At least we have the hotel. Her father had muttered those words over and over after her mother died. The hotel meant everything to him. He and her mother had poured their hearts and souls into it. To her father, it were as though his wife still lived in those walls. Losing the hotel would kill him. Then, she’d be completely alone.
A shudder racked her body.
‘Sienna,’ Antonio said. ‘I’d like to introduce you to my aunt and uncle, Rosa and Sergio Moretti.’
For a moment, Sienna couldn’t speak or move. Her whole future depended on this moment. She’d signed up to save her father, so damn it, she’d see it through, whatever the cost.
‘Are you all right?’ Antonio’s aunt asked, concern etched on her creased porcelain face.
‘Yes, yes,’ Sienna said, forcing laughter into her voice. ‘I’m a little overwhelmed. It’s been a big day.’ Sienna gave Rosa the traditional kiss on both cheeks. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’ The woman’s warmth nearly brought Sienna undone.
When she kissed Sergio, Sienna felt him bristle under her touch.
‘So,’ the old man said stepping back and turning his brutal face to Antonio, ‘A shotgun wedding. Another blow to the Moretti name.’
‘Sergio,’ his wife scolded fiercely. ‘Not today. It’s their wedding day.’
Sergio clearly wanted to say more, but his wife laid her hand on his arm and he said nothing. An awkward silence followed.
‘The ceremony was beautiful,’ Rosa said.
‘But none of your family is here,’ Sergio said, looking around. ‘That’s strange.’
‘I’m an only child and my father is very sick. He couldn’t be here. My mother died three years ago.’
Sergio’s face softened just a fraction. ‘Oh,’ he said, looking at the floor. ‘I’m sorry.’
The band struck up a Cole Porter song. Sienna watched a number of older couples take to the dance floor.
‘Signor Moretti, would you like to dance?’ she asked. Anything to get away from Antonio.
The old man’s eyes flashed wide. ‘I —’
Sienna held out her hand. ‘The bride usually dances with her father at some point. Would you do me the honour instead?’
Sergio bobbed his head. ‘Certainly,’ he said formally, taking her arm and leading her to the dance floor.
They danced in silence for a few minutes.
‘You seem very different from Antonio’s other . . . women friends,’ Sergio stated.
Sienna laughed. ‘Yes, I’m not a model, an actress or an heiress.’
Sergio stopped dancing and looked into her face. ‘Why this sudden wedding? It is out of character for Antonio. I can’t help but be suspicious.’
‘I think we were both two lonely people looking for . . . understanding.’ Where did that come from? Antonio lonely? What a laugh. She looked around the room over Sergio’s shoulder as they took up the dance once again. Antonio seemed to be friends with every rich and famous person in the world. He’d been linked with a string of high-profile women. And yet . . .
‘Be careful,’ the old man muttered.
Sienna looked into his face. ‘What do you mean?’
‘He’s caused us a lot of pain,’ he said. ‘You seem like a nice girl . . .’
The music ended.
‘Thank you,’ Sergio said, giving her a little bow.
‘What do you mean, “pain”?’ Sien
na asked, placing her hand on his arm. Sergio looked at her with pity in his eyes, took her elbow and walked her to where Rosa and Antonio stood talking.
‘I’ve invited them to come and spend their honeymoon with us,’ Rosa said.
Sergio frowned. ‘I don’t think —’
‘And Antonio has accepted,’ Rosa said, taking her husband’s hand in hers. ‘Isn’t that wonderful!’ She turned to Sienna. ‘I hope that is all right with the bride.’
Sienna looked at Antonio. The veiled looked of satisfaction on his face confirmed what she already knew. His plan was working just as he’d predicted. It made her feel sick.
‘That would be lovely,’ she said.
The band struck some grandiose arpeggios.
‘Time to cut the cake,’ Antonio said. He kissed his relatives. ‘See you tomorrow.’
Sienna followed suit, feeling like a criminal. She allowed Antonio to lead her to the enormous three-tiered cake. The crowd gathered around as they held the knife together and cut the first piece. Cameras flashed. The rich aroma of chocolate and cream fed the turmoil in her stomach. The noise, the crowd, the cameras threatened to close in on her.
‘I need some air,’ she said, rushing from Antonio’s side to the nearest door. She stumbled into the long hall that led to the foyer. People turned to stare. Where could she go? She had to get away from the continuous scrutiny and the innocent faces of Antonio’s aunt and uncle.
Antonio pushed through the door behind her. He came up close. ‘What are you doing?’
‘How can you deceive your own family?’
‘Quiet.’ He ground out the word. ‘Someone will hear you.’
‘You didn’t tell me your aunt and uncle owned the hotel.’
‘What does it matter? The facts are still the same,’ he whispered harshly, fixing her with stony eyes. ‘They read everything that’s written about me and believe every word. They won’t sell me Villa Paradiso because of those lies.’
‘Lies?’ She knew she should keep her voice down, but she couldn’t help it. ‘What is written about you is all true from what I’ve seen.’
His icy stare matched her own. ‘What? That I’m a womanising, hedonistic playboy?’ he bit out.
Sweet Seduction Page 10
