He pulled his hand away and leaned back in his chair. ‘It was a long time ago. I never lacked for anything. My grandparents made sure of that.’
Alice wondered if anyone—even grandparents as loving and stable as Cristiano’s—could ever make up for the loss of one’s parents and only brother. Children were known to be fairly resilient, but how hard it must have been for him to know he would never see his parents and brother again. He had all the money anyone could wish for and yet he couldn’t bring back his loved ones. Was that why he was so controlling? So rigid and uncompromising? Was that why he had insisted on marrying her seven years ago and wouldn’t take no for an answer? He had wanted stability because he had lost it in childhood.
But Alice hadn’t been in love with him back then...or had she? It was a question she always shied away from. She didn’t like looking back. Regrets were for people who weren’t confident in their ability to make choices.
She had made her choice.
She had chosen her career over marriage.
Not because she couldn’t have combined them both, but more because Cristiano wouldn’t have wanted her to. He’d wanted her to have babies and stay at home to rear them as his mother had done for him and his brother. He hadn’t wanted any talk of nannies or childcare. In his opinion, there was only one way to bring up a family and that was to have a wife and full-time mother running the household.
They had argued about it constantly. For a while, Alice had naively thought he was only doing it to get a rise out of her. That he didn’t really think so strongly about the issue but enjoyed the way she reacted when he expressed his opinion. But when he’d dropped that proposal on her, she’d realised he was deadly serious about it. For him there was no middle ground.
Marriage or nothing.
Alice had chosen nothing. Which had been fine when she was twenty-one with her whole life ahead of her. Now, at twenty-eight, with all her peers pairing up and marrying and starting families, and her own biological clock developing a recent and rather annoying and persistent ticking, she wondered if ‘nothing’ was going to keep her satisfied...if she had ever been so.
They finished their meal without much further conversation. Alice tried a couple of times to talk to him about his hotel plans for London, but he seemed disinclined to talk about anything but the arrangements to do with their marriage next month. His single-minded focus was a little unnerving to say the least. She wondered if he had pulled the drawbridge up on his personal life because she had got him to talk about his childhood in a way he had never done before.
When he led her out of the restaurant she half expected him to suggest they continue the evening by taking her somewhere else for a nightcap or coffee. But he simply drove her home and barely lingered long enough to walk her to the door.
Alice stood in the frame of her front door and watched the red glow of his taillights disappear into the distance. She flatly refused to admit she was disappointed. But when she went inside and closed the door, her beautiful house with its spacious rooms and gorgeous décor had never felt so empty.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE MEETING WITH the lawyer to deal with the prenuptial agreements was held the following day. Cristiano had organised to pick Alice up from the salon but she got held up with a client who had turned up late to her appointment, so when Alice came out to Reception she found Meghan talking to Cristiano, who had been kept waiting for nigh on twenty minutes.
Meghan turned around with a beaming smile. ‘Congratulations! Oh, my God, it’s so romantic. It’s all over social media—everyone’s tweeting about it. I knew there was something cooking between you two. I just knew it. You’re engaged!’
Alice had never considered herself a consummate actor, but right then and there she thought she was worthy of an Oscar and an Emmy.
She moved closer to Cristiano and slipped an arm around his lean waist. ‘Thanks. Yes, it is exciting. We’re very happy.’
His arm came around hers, his hand coming to rest on the curve of her hip, the heat of his broad palm sending a red-hot current straight to her core. ‘Aren’t you going to kiss me hello?’ he said, smiling down at her.
Alice smiled back through mentally gritted teeth. ‘Not in front of my staff. You know how I am about public displays of affection.’
‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ Meghan said, with her hands clasped in front of her as if waiting for the penultimate kiss scene in a romantic movie.
Alice eased out of Cristiano’s hold to collect her bag from behind the counter. ‘I’ll be out for a couple of hours,’ she said to Meghan. ‘I’ve called in Suze to help with my Saturday clients while I’m away on the weekend.’
‘I’m so happy for you both,’ Meghan said. ‘Can I do your wedding make-up? Please, please, please? Or are you going to do it yourself?’
‘Erm...we’re not having that sort of wedding,’ Alice said. ‘We’re going to do things simply—’
‘Not have a proper wedding?’ Meghan’s pretty young face fell as if all her facial muscles had been severed. ‘But you love weddings. You put so much time and effort into getting your brides ready. You’re the best at it in the business. Everyone says so. Why wouldn’t you want to be a bride your—?’
‘Because I just want to be married without all the fuss,’ Alice said before her young employee let slip about the bridal magazines under the counter. Yes, she had two stashes of them—one for clients and one for herself. ‘Besides, we’re being married next month. There’s no time to do anything extravagant. Cristiano’s in a hurry, aren’t you, darling?’
Cristiano’s glinting black gaze left no room for doubt on the subject. ‘I’ve been waiting seven long years to have you back where I want you. I don’t want to waste a second more than I have to.’
‘Show me your ring!’ Meghan said.
Alice took it out of the pocket of her uniform and slipped it back on her finger. ‘It’s a little loose but—’
‘Oh...’ Meghan’s expression failed to conceal her disappointment. ‘It’s very...erm...nice.’
‘It’s not the official one,’ Cristiano said. ‘That’s being designed as we speak.’
‘Oh, how wonderful.’ Meghan’s face brightened as if a dimmer switch had been turned to full beam. ‘Alice loves a good engagement ring, don’t you, Alice?’
Alice wanted to slip between the polished floorboards of her salon. Why hadn’t she been a little more circumspect when examining her clients’ engagement rings? She had oohed and aahed over so many beautiful rings. It was the classical settings she loved the most. Simple and elegant instead of big and flashy. She stretched her mouth into a smile. ‘Sure do.’
After Meghan’s next client came in, Cristiano put a hand beneath Alice’s elbow and led her out of the salon. ‘Nice kid.’
‘Yes...’
And I’m going to make her drink boiling-hot wax when I get back.
‘She’s very enthusiastic.’
‘I should probably warn you there will be paparazzi hanging—uh oh, too late.’ His hand on her elbow shifted to go around her waist when a cluster of people with cameras and recording devices surged towards them. ‘Let me handle it.’
Alice stood in the circle of his arm and listened to him give a brief interview about their whirlwind romance. He was scarily good at lying. No one would ever think he wasn’t in love with her. What her mother was going to say about their engagement was something that was niggling at Alice’s conscience. She hadn’t yet called her to give her the heads up. She’d been delaying it because she had been so preachy about her mother’s multiple marriages. She hadn’t attended the last one on principle. How was her mother going to react to this news?
‘We’d like to hear a comment from the blushing bride,’ a female journalist said, pushing the recording device towards Alice. ‘Your reputation as the go-to girl for wedding make-up is on the up and up. Does this mean you’ll expand the business into Italy and beyond or will you be keen to start a family?’
Ali
ce blithely ignored the slight pressure increase from Cristiano’s fingers and painted on a bright smile. Why should she let him answer for her? She wasn’t a ventriloquist’s puppet. He might have cornered her in private, but in public, well, that was where she could win a few points back. ‘We’re going to get started on the baby-making right away, aren’t we, darling?’
His eyes sent her a warning. ‘I’d like a little bit of time with you all to myself first.’
After the press moved on, Cristiano took her firmly by the hand and led her down the street. ‘What the hell were you playing at?’
Alice threw him a glance that could have cut through plate glass. ‘Why do women get asked such ridiculous questions? Why didn’t that journalist ask you if you were going to give up your career to start a family? Why are women always expected to give up everything they’ve worked so hard for?’
His mouth was pulled tight. ‘I’m not asking you to have a child, for God’s sake, Alice. All I’m asking is for six months of your time.’
‘I can’t believe women still have to put up with this crap,’ Alice said. ‘It’s no one’s business but mine if I want a baby.’
‘Presumably it would also be your partner’s business.’
Alice sent him a sideways glance but his expression gave little away. ‘Do you plan on having a family with...with someone else after we’re—?’
‘No.’
‘But you were so keen—’
‘It’s not something I envisage for myself now.’
Why? Because I ruined your dream of happy families?
Alice didn’t like the feeling she’d been the one to change his mind. He would make a wonderful father. Why would he give up that dream of having a family of his own? He had so much to offer a child. Stability. Security. Love. She stopped walking and glanced at him again. ‘Did I make you change your mind?’
His eyes met hers for a brief moment before he looked away and continued walking in long purposeful strides. ‘We’re going to be late for the lawyer if we don’t step on it.’
Alice blew out a breath and trotted alongside him. ‘I’m a career woman. So shoot me.’
A career woman with a vague sense of something missing...
* * *
Cristiano led her into the lawyer’s office where they dealt with the business of signing the prenuptial agreements. It was all so cold and clinical it made Alice feel uncomfortable, as if she was breaking some sort of taboo. What about, What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours? It was contrary of her to be feeling so piqued because she had her own financial interests to protect, but still it made her wonder, if she had married Cristiano seven years ago, whether he would have insisted on drawing up such a clinical agreement.
The lawyer brought their meeting to a close with the news that a lump sum as promised in the will would be deposited in Alice’s bank account now her engagement to Cristiano was official. The money did not have to be refunded if the engagement came to an end as in the marriage not taking place, which was a surprising footnote to Alice.
It was a large sum of money, enough to pay a decent deposit on new premises plus some, if not half, of the mortgage. She found it hard to understand why Volante Marchetti had stipulated that particular clause. Or had his grandmother known Alice would think twice about walking away with such a large amount of money without seeing the whole arrangement through?
When they were leaving the lawyer’s office Alice got a call from her mother. She looked at the caller ID and grimaced. ‘Hi, Mum, I was about to call you—’
‘Tell me I’m dreaming,’ her mother said loud enough for Cristiano to hear. Possibly the whole street. ‘My daughter—the daughter who swore she would never ever get married—is now getting married?’
Alice turned away from Cristiano’s satirical expression. ‘Yes, it’s all happened very quickly and—’
‘See?’ Her mother sounded smug. ‘I told you love hits you out of the blue. When you meet the right one you just know. When’s the wedding? I’ll have to get something flash to wear. Will you be able to help me pay for something? I don’t want to look frumpish. But for God’s sake don’t invite your father. You’ll have to get someone else to walk you down the aisle. Not that he’s been a proper father to you anyway, running off with that woman when you were barely out of nappies and carrying on about paying maintenance for all those years. Why you have to have a relationship with him now after all those years of no contact, I will never know. I won’t go if he’s there.’
‘Mum, there’s not going to be a big wedding,’ Alice said, mentally rolling her eyes at her mother’s usual tirade about her father. Twenty-six years was a long time to be bitter, especially as her dad hadn’t had an easy time of it since, bringing up a disabled child with his most recent partner. ‘We’re having a low-key ceremony. We don’t want a lot of guests. We just want to keep things simple to make it more...meaningful.’
‘Oh, well, if you’re too ashamed to have your own mother at your wedding then so be it,’ her mother said in a wounded tone. ‘I know I’m not posh like some of your precious clients, but I’m the one who brought you into the world and made every sacrifice I could to give you a decent childhood.’
A decent childhood?
Alice wanted to scream in frustration. Nothing about her childhood had been decent. Her mother was the type of woman who didn’t feel complete without a man in her life. Any man. It didn’t matter how bad he was, as long as he fulfilled the role of male partner. During her childhood Alice hadn’t known who would be at their flat when she got home from school. There had been a revolving door on her mother’s bedroom in her quest to find ‘The One’.
There had been numerous partners over the years, two of whom subsequently became husbands. The second husband after Alice’s father had been a financial control freak and heavy drinker who used his fists and filthy tongue when he didn’t get his own way. The third had made a pass at Alice the day her mother introduced her to him, and stolen money from her purse on two other occasions. Alice refused on principle to attend their wedding as a result. And since the wedding, her mother had been subjected to constant put-downs and fault-finding, and such financial hardship she regularly called on Alice for handouts. But if ever Alice said anything about her mother’s partner she would defend him as if he were Husband of the Year.
‘Mum, I really can’t talk now,’ she said. ‘I’ll call you when I get back from my...holiday.’ She hung up and slipped her phone back in her bag.
Cristiano was looking at her with a thoughtful expression. ‘You okay?’
Alice relaxed her stiff frown but she could see he wasn’t fooled for a second. She blew out a breath. ‘My mother and I don’t agree on some things...lots of things, actually.’
‘She didn’t ask to meet me?’
Alice gave him a wry twist of her mouth. ‘As long as you’re male you tick the box as far as she is concerned.’
His frown formed a crevasse between his dark eyes. ‘But you’re her only child. Why wouldn’t she insist on meeting the man who’s going to be your husband?’
‘She’s not the overprotective type. Anyway, I’m an adult. I’m old enough to make my own decisions.’
‘Did you tell her about us when you came back from Italy after we broke up?’
Alice thought back to that time, how angry she had been, and how that anger, once she had cooled down, had turned to a deeper hurt. But her mother had been in the process of separating from her second husband who had found another partner—a woman only a year older than Alice.
Alice had spent hours and hours listening to her mother lament the loss of another marriage—how she was losing the love of her life and how she wouldn’t be able to survive without him, blah, blah, blah. Alice had suppressed her feelings about her own breakup and channelled her energies into getting her mother through the divorce process, and then on starting up her own beauty business. There hadn’t been time to examine too closely how she felt about Cristiano.
<
br /> Maybe that had been a mistake...
‘We don’t have that sort of relationship,’ Alice said. ‘Not all mothers and daughters are best friends.’
‘What about your father? Do you ever see him?’
‘I didn’t use to,’ Alice said. ‘But he tracked me down a couple of years ago. We meet up occasionally. Mostly when he needs money.’
Why did you tell him that?
His frown deepened. ‘You don’t give it to him, do you?’
Alice didn’t want to go into the complex details of her relationship with her father. Charles call-me-Chas Piper was a happy-go-lucky charmer who, in spite of everything he had done and not done as a father, she couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for. He was a hobby gambler and a regular drinker, but to his credit—after years of abandoning partners once he got bored—he had stayed with the young woman he’d married a few years ago. They had a son with severe autism and money was always tight on getting little Sam the support and care he needed.
Alice was a soft touch when it came to people with special needs. She told herself the money she gave to her father was for Sam, even though deep down she knew some of it would be spent on other things. But she figured her father and his partner Tania surely deserved something for themselves after everything they had been through. ‘He’s my father. He’s not a bad person—just an unlucky one.’
‘Unlucky in what way?’
Alice shook her hair back and readjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder. ‘Are we done? I have to get back to work. I have back-to-back clients this afternoon.’
Cristiano held her gaze for a long moment. ‘I’ll be around tonight. I’ll bring dinner.’
Alice sent him a reproachful look. ‘Here’s a lesson in manners for you. What you say is: Would you be free this evening? I would like to bring you dinner. See? Not that hard, is it?’
He ran a lazy hand down the length of her arm. She was wearing a cashmere-blend cardigan over her uniform but still every nerve stood up and took notice, especially when he encountered her hand. His fingers closed around it and then he brought it up to his mouth. Alice watched in a state of mesmerisation when his lips brushed against the backs of her knuckles, his eyes holding hers in a lock that made something fall off a high shelf inside her stomach. The scrape of his stubble sent a shockwave of lust straight between her thighs. The clean sharp citrus scent of his aftershave teased her senses until she felt slightly drunk. She couldn’t stop staring at his mouth—the shape of it was pure male perfection. Strong and firm, and yet with a sensual curve that could unravel her self-control in a hummingbird’s heartbeat.
The Temporary Mrs. Marchetti (Mills & Boon Modern) Page 6
