The Italian Billionaire's Disgraced Fiancée

by Betsy Swann

  Where did that leave him? Out in the cold, he guessed.

  Dio, why had he not fallen for someone truly worthy, someone loveable and perfect like Clarissa, the woman with the heart of gold? Why did it have to be a scheming liar like Izzy, who couldn’t be trusted?

  Or had she told him the truth, after all?

  The pounding in his head grew worse. There was only one way to find out, he decided with a shiver of self-loathing. Something he had promised himself not to do. He needed to have her checked out by that private investigator, after all.

  Reluctantly, he reached for his phone.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The following morning and back in Rome, Izzy and Enzo were just discussing the necessary changes for the hotel, when Enzo’s personal assistant knocked on the door of his office. Frowning, Izzy lifted her head. An efficient office administrator like Flavia would never burst into a meeting, if it wasn’t truly urgent.

  Sure enough, although impeccably dressed in a smart suit and elegant court shoes, the usually imperturbable woman looked visibly flustered. ‘I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we have this unexpected situation, and I really don’t know how to deal with it.’

  Enzo’s left brow rose in an arch. Clearly he had never seen her like that.

  ‘No wonder you’re out of your depths, Flavia. You have plenty to organise today, with tonight’s charity ball.’ He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘So fire away. What’s the problem?’

  ‘There’s this fifteen-year old girl, Ruby. The one who is supposed to go to the ball tonight wearing a beautiful fairy tale gown. Well, the thing is…’ She gave a nervous giggle. ‘The gown is lost.’

  Lost? Izzy closed her eyes. It had been a nightmare to design the gown so that it neatly fitted over the girl’s spinal bracing, and Ruby had absolutely loved it. She didn’t believe for a second that the girl would have carelessly mislaid the dress.

  ‘It’s not really lost, actually, but quite out of reach for the moment,’ the PA went on. ‘Somehow Ruby’s suitcase ended on the wrong plane and, well, at the moment the dress is on its way to New York. There’s no way we can retrieve it in time for the ball.’

  ‘Where is Ruby now?’ Izzy asked, concerned about the teenager.

  ‘In her room, crying.’ Helplessly, Flavia shrugged her shoulders. ‘She and her family arrived at the hotel about half an hour ago. They are absolutely devastated, and I really don’t know what to do. That dress was a special commission, as you probably know. Ruby wears a spinal brace, and we’ll never manage to find something suitable to fit over that ugly thing, at short notice.’

  ‘Did you try to get in touch with Clarissa, the designer?’ Enzo enquired.

  Flavia nodded. ‘I did, but Clarissa is abroad at the moment and unavailable. Her assistant promised to leave her a message, but quite frankly I don’t think…’

  ‘I’ll take over from here,’ Izzy said firmly and stood up. ‘You have other things to do before tonight, Flavia, so don’t worry about it any longer. I’ll sort it out.’

  When the PA had left the room, she threw a questioning glance at Enzo. ‘I need to get the rest of the day off, if that’s okay.’

  The deep crease above his nose told Izzy that he wasn’t convinced she could organise a new ball gown for Ruby at such short notice, especially one that ticked all of the girl’s fairy tale boxes.

  ‘Of course, cara. Take off as long as you need.’ He pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples. ‘How can you be so sure you’ll manage to get in touch with Clarissa?’

  ‘I have her private number.’ With a grin, Izzy pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans. ‘She’s my former colleague, remember?’

  Enzo still didn’t look convinced. Clearly, after all the extensive preparation he wanted the ball to be a success. Not just for the press but for Ruby as well. The girl deserved her greatest wish to come true tonight.

  ‘If Clarissa is holidaying abroad, she might not be able to help.’

  ‘In that case, I’ll think of something else,’ Izzy promised and planted a reassuring kiss on the tip of his nose. ‘Trust me.’

  Leaving his office, she hoped that one day he would indeed find it in him to trust her.

  ***

  With a sigh Izzy stepped out of the shower and onto the fluffy bath mat. The feel of the warm water streaming over her body after a frantic afternoon had been sheer bliss. After all these hours she’d spent sitting bent over the professional sewing machine that one of the friendly receptionists had organised for her use at short notice, her back had been stiff and aching.

  She wrapped herself in one of the hotel’s soft white towels and dried her hair with the electric dryer until it fell down to her waist like a shimmering mass of silk. Swiftly she applied her make-up. It consisted of the most basic essentials, just a hint of mascara to frame her eyes and her favourite pink gloss for her lips. Satisfied, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror. That would do. The ball had already started, and she didn’t want to draw Enzo’s attention to the fact that she was late. No need for him to find out that she had sewn Ruby’s new ball gown herself, and that she had managed just now, twenty minutes ago, to clear her room from everything that might give him a clue that she herself was Clarissa, the designer.

  Fortunately Izzy had stored the dress pattern on her laptop, so it had all come down to organising the sewing machine, a few haberdashery necessities and suitable fairy tale fabric. ‘Silk, blue and with glittering diamonds’ had been Ruby’s design brief when they had first met and by sheer incredible luck and a stroke of genius Izzy had been in the position to deliver. With a happy twinkle in her eyes she looked across the bathroom to the now unadorned window pane. Who would have thought that the stunning silk curtain would come in so handy in the hour of despair?

  Quickly she returned to her bedroom and slipped into sparkly evening sandals and the mainly white and gold coloured evening gown she had chosen for tonight. It was one of her favourites, created in loving memory of her father and their last summer together. Inspired by the delicate Mermaid roses that climbed around the porch of their clapboard home in Suffolk, it had a tight-fitting sleeveless top with tiny white and gold pearls stitched around the neckline. The full, floor-length skirt consisted of layer upon layer of silk, fashioned in the style of rose petals, all in slightly different shades of whites and golds. With every turn, Izzy knew, the skirt would flow around her, the silky petals opening up like a bloom in the morning sun. When she stilled, they would close again. The effect was quite breath-taking and didn’t need the additional blink of expensive jewellery.

  Izzy chose a beautiful yellow rose from the glass vase on the coffee table and cut the stem. With the help of a clip she fastened the flower just above her right ear. For a last time she glanced into the mirror. Perfect. Then she left the room and hastened downstairs.

  As soon as she arrived in the glamorous ballroom, Izzy was swept away by the feeling of warmth and happiness drifting through the festively decorated hall. Everyone was chatting animatedly and there was a cheerful and contented atmosphere.

  ‘You’ve done a great job,’ she complimented Enzo’s PA Flavia whom she found standing by the table plans, obviously making some final changes to the seating arrangements.

  ‘Thanks,’ Flavia smiled, looking much more relaxed than this morning. ‘I must admit, there was a moment when I thought it would all end in disaster, especially when I heard about Ruby’s ball gown. I’m so grateful to you for sorting this out.’

  ‘It was a pleasure.’ Izzy glanced over Flavia’s shoulder. ‘And here she comes, our little fairy tale princess.’

  Flavia turned, her eyes widening when she saw the fifteen-year-old’s outfit for the first time. ‘Madonna, but she looks beautiful! This gown is absolutely stunning – and it fits perfectly over her bracing. How did you organise that dress at such short notice?’

  ‘Connections,’ Izzy muttered evasively. ‘I used to work in Clarissa’s team.’

  Seconds l
ater Ruby was there, a happy gleam all over her face. ‘Don’t I look pretty?’ She made a joyful little twirl. ‘This is the best night of my life, my greatest wish come true.’

  ‘I’m happy to hear it,’ Izzy heard Enzo’s deep voice. She looked up in surprise. She’d been so engrossed in the teenager’s delight that she hadn’t noticed him approaching their little group. Wearing his black tuxedo and as breathtakingly handsome as ever, his steel-blue eyes pierced her with a cool, angry glance. Then he shifted his attention to smile at everybody else but her.

  Disquieted, Izzy bit her lower lip. Anxiously she glanced up to him. He completely ignored her, as if she weren’t even here. Was Enzo annoyed because she had arrived late, or why did he freeze her off?

  Ruby, who hadn’t noticed the sudden tension, couldn’t help smiling. ‘It’s all thanks to Clarissa, the best designer in the world. Without her help, I wouldn’t have been able to come tonight.’ Enthusiastically she threw herself into Izzy’s arms. ‘Thanks so much for everything.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Izzy replied, breathing a silent sigh of relief. The teenager had phrased her words of thanks in such a way that neither Enzo nor Flavia would come to question her identity. They still believed that she had somehow contacted Clarissa and convinced her to provide a second gown to replace the first.

  Ignoring Enzo’s bad mood, Izzy gave herself a little mental tap on the shoulder. None of them had an idea how extensive it was to sew a customised gown for a handicapped youngster within a mere matter of hours. No way Clarissa could have made it and sent it from her holiday destination to be here in time for the ball. If Enzo or Flavia had any clue about these difficulties at all, they would have known straight away that Izzy and Clarissa were the same person – or at least that Clarissa must have been very close to the hotel this afternoon with a sewing machine and the pattern for Ruby’s gown and plenty of time on her hands to sew up that dress. Not to forget that bathroom curtain from the penthouse suite…

  During dinner Enzo continued to ignore her. Izzy made a couple of attempts to start a conversation with him and find out why he was mad at her, but the only reply she received was a hissed ‘Why do you think?’, together with a chilling glance that made her blood run cold.

  Fortunately Ruby and her family sat at the far end of the table of honour, together with the family of the nine-year old who had spent the afternoon driving in the red Ferrari with the famous racing driver. Deeply grateful for these seating arrangements, Izzy visibly relaxed. She had been lucky so far but the evening wasn’t over yet, and with an innocent remark Ruby or a member of her family could easily lift the secret of her identity. She didn’t even want to imagine Enzo’s mood when that happened, and it was bad enough already.

  Her half-brother Nick, who headed the charity and had flown in from London this afternoon, was also seated at the top table. Izzy was desperate to hear his news about the negotiations with Rebecca Morton, good or bad. They hadn’t spoken since she’d asked him to acquire the Vallorini mansion almost a week ago, and now he was sat too far from her to hold a conversation. No doubt Enzo had had an eye on the seating arrangements, still being convinced that Nick was paying for her London penthouse flat. Clearly he had no interest in her sharing a quiet moment with her assumed lover, and she was well advised to stick to her gut feeling and stay away from Nick tonight.

  Well, her gut feeling had no say tonight. There was no way she would leave the ball without having a quiet word with her brother. She wished with all her heart that Nick had managed to persuade Rebecca to sell him the mansion. Nick could be very convincing, if necessary, but Rebecca was no fool. All Izzy could do now was put her trust in him and pray.

  A uniformed waiter placed the first course in front of her, marinated salmon with chilly chutney and crusty Italian bread. Having lost her appetite because of Enzo’s strange mood, she merely picked at her food. How could she possibly gain Enzo’s trust without blowing Bella’s cover and telling him that the three of them were siblings? How could she make him understand that she had never even looked at another man? That she loved him and nobody else but him?

  Slowly she bent forward und stared at her brother until she caught his attention. With her eyes she expressively pointed towards the terrace. ‘After coffee,’ she silently voiced, and he confirmed with a nod that he’d understood.

  Good old Nick. Although one year younger, he was almost like a father figure for her. Nick was the only man in the family and, quite frankly, the only man in this world who really cared for her and trusted her with his life. Sometimes she could still hardly believe it. Nick had only met her two years ago, the long lost sister he hadn’t even known about. She’d been worse for wear, with tear-stained panda make-up and an uncontrollable hiccup, because her father had died, her fiancé had left, and it happened to be the worst birthday of her life. It was thanks to her siblings Nick and Bella that she had overcome this most difficult time of her life, and she would be forever grateful to them. In a way she was even grateful to Enzo. Without him and those photos he had shown her, she’d probably still didn’t know about her family or about the lasting strength of true love, no matter what stumbling blocks fate threw into its path. She would never stop loving him.

  Smiling she leant back into her seat.

  ‘Any particular reason to be happy?’ Enzo hissed into her ear.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered back, looking into his cold angry eyes. ‘I’m smiling because it’s a beautiful evening, and because I love you.’

  There, she had said it, although he wouldn’t believe her anyway.

  Sure enough, he frowned and remained silent, his lips firmly pressed together. Then he turned to his neighbour to resume their conversation.

  Izzy averted her eyes from his back and fixed her gaze on the white wine in the crystal glass next to her plate. Clearly, her declaration of love wasn’t the reply Enzo had envisaged or hoped for. His silence was answer enough, and why was she upset about it anyway? She had known all along that she was nothing but a brief fling for him. A sexy slut he couldn’t keep his hands off and a gold-digger. There was no future for them. And still, knowing all that and even telling herself on a daily basis, she still clung to this tiny glimmer of hope that everything would be fine in the end. That he’d learn to love and trust her. He had no idea how utterly, how desperately she hoped. Even worse, she had been stupid enough to fall deeper and deeper in love with him, no matter what insults he had thrown into her face, no matter how he had behaved. Because she had understood his despair after her seeming betrayal. It was the same despair, the same desperate love she felt herself. Only that without trust, his love had turned into something else, whatever that was. Hatred, disgust, abhorrence…

  Briefly she closed her eyes. She’d been so happy when he had apologised and promised to try his best to trust her. But all this time, deep down, she had known that this was just a dream. He’d never love her the way she wanted him to love her, unconditionally and based on trust. He lusted after her, no doubt, but love and lust were not the same. The dreadful image of her he had painted inside his head had tainted his mind. Would he ever be able to let go and see her the way she really was? Thoughtfully she took a sip of wine. Probably not.

  Fortunately Enzo’s attention was fully absorbed by the famous racing driver, who was sat next to him, and the man’s extensive anecdotes about the racing world. When the waiters finally removed their empty coffee cups after dinner, he was still deep in conversation.

  Discreetly, Izzy excused herself and went out onto the terrace. Moments later, Nick followed her.

  ‘I have got a surprise for you,’ he said and pulled something shiny out of his pocket. ‘The key to Enzo Vallorini’s greatest wish.’

  ‘You did it!’ Izzy exclaimed and fell around his neck. ‘Oh Nick, I can’t tell you how glad I am.’

  Grinning Nick stepped out of her embrace, his eyes pointing to the open French doors and the happily chatting guests beyond. ‘As grateful as I am about this displ
ay of emotion while we’re in full view, I don’t want my nose smashed again by one of those Vallorini brothers. So please have pity and stand back.’

  A beaming smile on her face, she took his hand and pulled him away from the terrace into the adjoining gardens and behind a pair of lush oleander bushes. ‘So tell me, how did you do it?’

  ***

  Enzo had a hard time concentrating on the conversation with the racing driver. He was furious. Izzy had known very well that he wanted her by his side tonight, right from the very beginning of the event. Granted, she had taken the afternoon off to help organise the new ball gown for young Ruby, which she had successfully accomplished, but how long did it take to phone a designer and ask her to send a replacement? What the hell had she done for the rest of the afternoon?

  Not only had Izzy been late for the ball, it had also not missed his attention that Nick Hetherington had arrived only seconds before she finally turned up. Surely they had been together, kissing and touching. Enzo snorted. The cheek of Izzy to tell him that she loved him. To lie right to his face when she’d just been with Hetherington. The woman knew no shame, and now the two of them had slipped out onto the terrace and further into the darkness of the gardens after she had thrown herself around the man’s neck.

  He excused himself at the table and was just about to follow Izzy and her lover outside to confront her with her blatant lies and infidelity, when he felt a hand on his arm.

  ‘Your speech,’ Flavia reminded him of his imminent duties. ‘Straight afterwards you’re expected to open the dancing with Ruby. I’ve advised the orchestra to play something really slow, because of her immobility – and I wasn’t sure, if she even knows the correct dance moves for any of the standard dances.’