by Sarah Morgan
Part of her was desperate to ask him what was going to happen once she’d sung at the wedding, but another part of her wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.
He enjoyed her company, she told herself, otherwise why would he be spending the day with her?
But she couldn’t shake off the feeling that this felt more of a holiday romance than a proper relationship.
The novelty of being with her was going to wear off, wasn’t it? He wanted to leave everything from his past behind…and that would eventually include her.
After a long, lazy lunch they strolled back to the Maserati and Silvio pulled her to his side as a moped popped and spluttered past them. Jessie saw a flash of long blonde hair and a seductive smile as the girl on the moped gave Silvio a lingering look, endangering life and limb in the process.
Jessie slid into the car, feeling invisible and ever so slightly sick.
Everywhere they went, women stared at him.
He could have been with anyone.
But he was with her, she reminded herself fiercely, hiding her expression behind a pair of oversized sunglasses.
She was making herself miserable for no reason.
Yes, he’d bought her a wardrobe, but she’d left her flat with nothing so that had been a necessity rather than an indication that she embarrassed him.
‘You’re very quiet.’ Silvio slid into the driver’s seat and looked at her with a frown. ‘Is something wrong?’
If he wasn’t noticing the differences between them, she wasn’t going to draw attention to the problem. ‘Just worried about singing at the wedding.’
‘Why would you be worried? You have an astonishing talent.’ A thoughtful look on his face, he stroked his fingers through her hair in a possessive gesture. ‘When you sing tomorrow, everyone else will discover your talent. I predict that your life will change in a moment.’
‘It’s tomorrow?’ Jessie felt a rush of trepidation. ‘I hadn’t realised that it was tomorrow. I haven’t had a rehearsal.’
‘We will arrive in the afternoon and you can rehearse with the band members.’
‘I don’t even know what they want me to sing. I might not know the songs.’
‘They’re happy for you to sing whatever you like.’
‘What have you told them about me?’
Silvio smiled and started the engine. ‘That they should make the most of your reasonable rates because after you’ve sung at their wedding, you’ll be too expensive for most people to hire to sing at a private function.’
Jessie groaned, thinking of the expectations that people would have. And how she was going to disappoint everyone. ‘You’re living in fantasy land.’
‘It’s reality.’ Silvio gripped the wheel with strong, confident hands. ‘Wait and see.’
‘It isn’t reality! I’m not sure I can do it. Can’t you ask someone else?’
‘They want the best. And you’re the best, Jessie.’
‘I’m nobody, Silvio.’ She stared straight forward as they drove back along the dusty roads towards the yacht. ‘If this is the society wedding of the decade, they’re going to want someone famous.’
‘Trust me on this one, Jess.’ There was a hint of exasperation in his smile. ‘By the time you’ve finished the first song, you’ll be famous.’
‘Don’t say that! Don’t put so much pressure on me.’ She ran her hand through her hair and winced because it was stiff from the wind and the salt. ‘You just don’t get it, do you? I can’t stand up there in front of all those rich people and sing.’
‘You sing all the time, Jess. You were always singing. It doesn’t matter who you’re singing to. It certainly doesn’t matter what their income is.’
‘Yes, it does. They’ll all be judging me.’
‘They’ll be envying you,’ he said dryly. ‘As anyone would when they hear a talent like yours. You’re happy to stand in an alleyway and fight off a bunch of thugs, but you won’t sing in front of people who have wealth. What sort of logic is that?’
‘Warped, probably,’ Jessie admitted, ‘but it’s how I feel.’
‘You’ll be fine.’ He parked the car and turned to face her. ‘You just need to forget the audience. I’ll sit in the back. You can sing for me.’
Realising that she couldn’t make him understand, Jessie dropped the subject. He was confident in this new world he inhabited. He’d earned his place among the rich and famous.
She stared at the yacht—a visible symbol of his astonishing achievements.
It had been slightly easier to forget the differences between them when they’d been driving round the island. She’d felt like a tourist. Lovers on holiday. Today she’d spent time with the man, not the boy she’d once known.
Looking at the boat, it was hard not to feel like an impostor, but still she relished the new closeness that had sprung up between them.
He’d said that she could ask him anything, and she found it remarkably easy to do so.
In the intimacy that followed another incredible lovemaking session, she lifted her hand and touched his scar. ‘In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never told me about this. There were so many rumours but you never talked about it.’
Silvio was very still. ‘It was a long time ago.’
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘I told you, you can ask me anything.’ He slid his hand behind her neck and lowered his mouth to hers. ‘I’m not proud of that time. I’m not proud of who I was.’
‘You chose a different life. You should be proud of that.’ Jessie remembered the night in the alleyway. ‘And the scar has its uses. It helps scare people away.’
But he didn’t laugh. Instead, he rolled her onto her back, his dark eyes oddly intense as he gazed down at her.
‘Do I scare you?’
‘No.’ She lifted her head and pressed her lips against the scar. ‘You never scare me.’ The thought of losing him scared her, but she wasn’t going to admit that. She had no idea what was happening between them—what any of it meant. What would happen when she’d sung at the wedding? He’d said he’d give her a job, but would that be somewhere far away from him?
Feeling the cold fog of loneliness seep towards her again, Jessie tightened her grip on his neck and he frowned sharply.
‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’
‘Nothing.’ She could hardly tell him that she didn’t want this to end, could she? ‘I’m still worrying about singing at the wedding.’
‘I don’t ever want you to be scared.’ His tone savage, Silvio lowered his head and took her mouth. ‘You’re mine now. You shouldn’t be frightened of anything.’
Jessie wound her arms around his neck. ‘No one has ever made me feel the way you make me feel.’
He smiled, supremely self-confident as he kissed her. ‘How do I make you feel?’
‘Special,’ she said huskily, and then grinned. ‘And sexy.’
‘You are sexy,’ he groaned, sliding his hand down her thigh. ‘Too sexy for your own good and my self-control. I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you. It’s very unsettling to be this out of control—you have no idea.’
‘I’m glad.’ Feeling ridiculously powerful, Jessie nibbled at his lips. ‘I feel the same way.’ She snuggled closer, thinking that when they were like this, everything seemed right. ‘Tell me about your scar.’
He stroked her hair gently. ‘It was a turning point for me. There was a teacher at school—’
‘I didn’t know you ever turned up at school.’
‘I occasionally honoured them with my presence,’ he said dryly. ‘This guy taught metalwork, and in his spare time he did property development. He offered me the chance to earn money so at the weekends I used to go and work on his building sites. I loved the feeling of building something instead of knocking it down or spraying paint over it. The night I received this…’ he angled his head so that the scar was clearly visible ‘…I was working for him. A rival gang came and tried to wreck t
he building. I knew they’d make it look as though it was me and I was determined that wasn’t going to happen.’
‘So you fought.’
‘Fortunately he’d installed CCTV so there was video evidence that I was acting in self-defence. No one touched me again. The teacher gave me a loan. I started doing my own thing and I discovered that success is more addictive than any of the substances sold on the streets.’
‘Are you still in touch with the teacher?’
‘Yes. He runs a community project that I sponsor.’
He sponsored a community project. He helped disadvantaged kids like he had been. He might have left it behind but he was taking plenty of people with him into his new life.
Jessie stared into the darkness, thinking about what Stacey had said about him helping people. ‘I remember the night Johnny brought you back to our care home.’
‘He’d strayed into the wrong part of town.’
‘And you rescued him.’ Thinking of that time hurt so much she could hardly breathe. ‘You were always rescuing him.’
‘He didn’t want to be rescued. It was Johnny who made me realise we all had a choice.’ Silvio tightened his hold on her. ‘Johnny hadn’t been brought up in that culture. I couldn’t imagine anyone choosing the life I was living.’
‘He was angry with the world. I was very young when we lost the life we had, but I remember him being angry. And then he was suddenly hanging around with the wrong crowd and he thought it was cool. Tough.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I suppose it gave him the chance to express all the anger he felt. He never believed he could change anything. You saw a different path, but he only saw the one he was standing on.’
‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Of course.’
His hand cupped her face. ‘What’s in the shoebox, tesoro? It was the only thing you brought from the flat.’
‘It was the only thing I cared about.’ Without hesitating, Jessie slid out of the bed and retrieved the shoebox. Silvio had shared secrets with her, hadn’t he? ‘It’s all I have left of him.’ Sadness flowed through her and she sat on the edge of the bed and removed the lid. A lump in her throat, she lifted out a photograph. ‘This is my favourite. It’s of the three of us.’
‘I remember that day.’ Silvio propped himself up on one elbow and reached for the photo. ‘We came to your school to watch you play netball.’
‘And almost caused a riot.’ Jessie smiled through her tears.
‘I was the most popular girl in the school after that day. Everyone wanted an introduction to my bad big brother and his equally bad friend.’
Silvio reached across and took the rest of the photographs from her. ‘I remember this one too—you came second in that talent competition.’
‘And Johnny swore at the judges because he said I should have come first.’ Jessie sighed. ‘I kept these pictures because they’re all I have of him.’ Remembering too late what else was in the box, she tried to close it but he was faster than her.
‘You kept it?’ His voice husky with emotion, the cheap locket dangling between his fingers. ‘I gave you this on your sixteenth birthday.’
She didn’t tell him that she’d worn it every day until that terrible night.
She didn’t want him to know how much it had meant to her. How much her adolescent brain had read into the gift.
‘It’s very pretty.’ Noncommittal, Jessie took it from him and put it back in the box along with the precious photographs and her ancient stuffed rabbit. ‘Part of my past.’
‘And what about your future?’ Silvio leaned back against the pillows, watching her. ‘What do you see?’
Her heart rate doubled. She was seeing a future where they were together, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Silvio wasn’t a man who settled down, was he?
‘At the moment I can’t see further than singing at this wedding tomorrow.’ Keeping her tone casual, she put the lid back on the box. ‘I see me opening my mouth and no sound coming out. I see guests trying to look polite but secretly wondering where on earth you dragged me from.’
Silvio pulled her back down on the bed and covered her mouth with his. ‘Stop it,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘Now, I want you to close your eyes and visualise a different scenario. In this one, you open your mouth, you sing and everyone is silent. They stop talking, they stop laughing, they stop gossiping about the bride, because no one has ever heard a voice like yours.’
Jessie squeezed her eyes shut and giggled. ‘No. It’s no good. That’s not what I’m seeing.’
‘Then look harder,’ he advised silkily, stroking his hand over her thigh and moving over her. ‘What can you see now?’
Paradise, Jessie thought blindly as she felt his mouth on hers.
She could see paradise, with dark clouds gathering in the distance.
They arrived at the hotel the following morning, and Jessie felt sicker and sicker as Silvio guided her through the lush, beautifully tended gardens towards the main entrance. The cool, linear architecture seemed to blend with the landscape and the long curve of private beach was just a few paces away from the main hotel building.
Jessie felt as though she’d been deposited in the middle of a film set.
‘The building took two years to complete but we were named Top Spa in Europe this year,’ Silvio told her as he pointed out the luxurious treatment rooms that overlooked the sea. ‘I’ve arranged for you to be pampered this afternoon. You need to have your hair and make-up done so that you look your best.’
So that she didn’t embarrass him? Jessie gave a quick smile. ‘Thank you,’ she said politely, telling herself that it wasn’t unreasonable of him to want her to look good—he’d arranged for her to have this job. This was an important, high-profile wedding. Of course he wanted her to be a success. ‘And I’d like to rehearse at some point.’
‘I’ve arranged that too.’
As they walked through the sliding glass doors into the luxurious marble foyer, the staff were almost embarrassingly deferential. Jessie shrank backwards but Silvio clamped his hand over her wrist and drew her against his side.
‘Stop hiding,’ he murmured, and then turned his attention back to the manager, who was hovering at a discreet distance, anxious to talk to him. After a brief exchange in Italian, Silvio gave a frown and turned to Jessie with an apologetic smile. ‘I’m really sorry, but I need to abandon you for a short time to deal with some issues. Romana will show you to our suite and then take you down to the spa. You can spend the afternoon being spoiled and then I’ll introduce you to the band. You’ll have plenty of time to rehearse before this evening.’
‘That sounds perfect.’ Her smile stiff, Jessie followed the immaculately groomed girl through an archway and into a set of rooms that epitomised cool, modern luxury. The suite was uncluttered and light, and beyond the open doors was a private terrace with a small infinity pool that appeared to blend seamlessly with the sea.
‘Someone will bring your luggage and unpack for you,’ Romana told her, ‘so I will show you to the spa.’
‘You speak very good English.’
‘Silvio insists that all his staff speak some English. He sends everyone on a language course when they first come to work with him.’
With him.
Not for him. With him. ‘Have you worked with him for long?’
‘Since this hotel opened. He is a very good boss, I think. This is the spa…’ Romana led her through another archway and Jessie was completely captivated. A cooling breeze came off the sea and the blues and greens of the water were reflected in the calming decor of the spa.
‘It’s beautiful.’
‘We’re very proud of it.’ Romana introduced her to a woman wearing a crisp white uniform. ‘This is Viola. She will be in charge of your treatments. If there is anything at all you need, just ask her.’
Jessie followed Viola to a treatment room overlooking a private stretch of beach and proceeded to spend the next few hours in a state of pampe
red bliss.
She was massaged with scented oils, given a manicure and a pedicure and then guided through to the hotel’s exclusive salon where an expert stylist shaped her hair and applied her make-up.
Stunned by the change in her appearance, Jessie stared at her reflection in the mirror and wondered if all those glamorous women who had attended the champagne reception spent this long getting ready every day.
It was a full-time job, she thought, being beautiful.
It was hours later that she finally made her way back to the suite. The band members had been friendly and talented, but the nerves were a tight knot in her stomach and she knew she wasn’t singing as well as she could. She expected to find Silvio pacing impatiently, wondering how long it took for one woman to get ready to sing a few songs.
Instead, she saw two boxes on the bed, together with a note.
Curious, she opened the note first, frowning as she read:
To give you courage. S.
Wondering what he could possibly have bought her that would give her courage, Jessie opened the first box, delved through layers of fine tissue paper and gasped.
It was a gold dress.
But this was nothing like the cheap version she’d had to mend so many times. It was a work of art. Exquisite and unique.
Almost afraid to touch it, Jessie wiped her fingers on her towelling robe to make sure they were clean and lifted it carefully from the box. It flowed over her fingers like a liquid, the fabric so fine that it draped lovingly over everything it touched.
It shimmered and gleamed in the evening sunlight and Jessie quickly stripped off her dressing gown and stepped into the dress. It dipped low over her breasts, curved in at the waist and pooled on the floor in a river of gold.
‘I knew it would look fantastic on you.’ Silvio’s hands were at her back, sliding up the zip, and she gave a soft gasp and turned to face him.
‘You chose this for me?’
‘I thought if you were wearing gold, you could imagine you were back in the bar.’ He gave a faint smile. ‘Not that I would have thought you wanted to be there, but you didn’t appear nervous when you sang there.’
