She glanced around the packed ballroom of the five-star hotel that had been refurbished by the fabulously wealthy Bonucci family. The décor was opulent and unashamedly luxurious and the guests at the opening party included many of the social elite not just from Rome but across Europe. It was the sort of event that she had dreaded when she had first married Constantin. She had felt awkward and out of place among his sophisticated friends and had convinced herself that they regarded her as a cheap gold-digger.
Despite the fact that she now had a successful career and had ‘made it’ some of those old, insecure feelings returned as Constantin escorted her around the ballroom and introduced her to the other guests. Their exquisite manners when they greeted her did not disguise the speculative glances they gave her as Constantin slipped his arm around her waist. Isobel told herself she was imagining the coolness she sensed from one or two of the guests, but when Constantin murmured in her ear that he had spotted a business associate he wanted to speak to, she had to fight the temptation to cling to his arm as she had done in the past.
She reminded herself that she had attended countless parties and functions in the past two years and could hold her own in any social situation. She did not need Constantin as a prop. But the sight of a familiar figure making a beeline for her across the ballroom made her heart sink.
‘Isobel! I must admit that I did not expect to see you here tonight.’ Ghislaine Montenocci had recently married, and pictures of her fabulous wedding to a French duke had filled the pages of a well-known celebrity magazine. ‘My husband, Duc Alphonse de Cavarre, is over there,’ she lost no time in telling Isobel, waving her hand towards a sandy-haired man who looked a good twenty years older than his new wife. Isobel wondered if the social-climbing Ghislaine had been attracted to her husband’s title.
‘I heard rumours that you and Constantin had reconciled, but I didn’t believe it. You must be so relieved that he has taken you back.’
Ghislaine’s name had changed with her marriage, but unfortunately her personality hadn’t, Isobel mused, recalling the other woman’s nasty comment that when she had married Constantin she had secured a meal ticket for life.
The insecure Isobel of three years ago had been overawed by Ghislaine, but now she smiled coolly. ‘Why relieved?’ she queried.
‘Well, I would have thought that, having managed to marry a billionaire, you wouldn’t want to lose him,’ Ghislaine said cattily.
‘As a matter of fact, Constantin supported my decision to establish my singing career during the past two years.’ It was laughably far from the truth, but Isobel refused to be beaten by Ghislaine. ‘I think it is so important for women to have aspirations and a purpose in life, rather than simply being a wife, don’t you agree?’ Isobel guessed that Ghislaine had never done a day’s work in her life, and, although it was not in her nature to be unkind, she could not help feeling a little sense of victory when the other woman flushed. ‘A strong marriage is one where both partners are able to fulfil their dreams. I admit that I am proud of my career success.’
‘So you should be.’ Constantin’s deep voice behind her made Isobel jump, and her heart did that annoying leap that it always did when he slid his arm around her waist and gave her a sexy smile before he spoke to Ghislaine.
‘Isobel and her band the Stone Ladies are amazing, aren’t they? I am incredibly proud of my talented wife.’
Ghislaine muttered something about needing to join her husband and moved away. Isobel frowned at Constantin. ‘There was no need for you to pretend that you are proud of me. I can fight my own battles,’ she said drily.
Something in his bright blue eyes caused her breath to become trapped in her throat.
‘I wasn’t pretending. I am proud of you, Isabella. You weren’t born into wealth and privilege like I was, or like Ghislaine. Everything you have achieved has been through your talent, hard work and determination.’
Isobel swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. ‘But you resented the time I spent performing with the band. You blamed my career for driving us apart.’
Constantin grimaced. ‘I didn’t understand how important music and singing were to you. I believed you preferred to spend time with your friends than with me, and deep down I knew I could not blame you,’ he admitted roughly. He met her gaze, and Isobel saw regret in his eyes. ‘I had my reasons for drawing away from you, and I see now that you thought I was rejecting you.’ He glanced around the crowded ballroom. ‘This is not the place to discuss our relationship, cara,’ he said ruefully. ‘I’ll go and get us a drink.’
Isobel watched him stride across the room to the bar and had the strangest feeling that he felt tense at the prospect of a discussion about their relationship that was long overdue. She had been stunned to hear him say he was proud of her career. His admiration meant a lot, she acknowledged. For so long she had lived in the shadow of her clever brother, and her failure to match Simon’s academic achievements or fulfil her father’s expectations had made her feel useless and unworthy of the rich, handsome, successful man she had married. Now she felt she was Constantin’s equal, but was it too late for them to turn their marriage around and be lifelong partners?
She studied him as he stopped on his way to the bar to chat to someone. They had lost their child, and he was under no obligation to remain married to her, so why had he told her that he had changed his mind and wanted to give their marriage another chance, unless—her heart thudded against her ribs—could it be that he felt something for her?
‘Your husband is a handsome devil. I remember he was a good-looking boy, but then it’s hardly surprising when his mother was one of the most photographed models of her era.’
Isobel turned towards the woman who had come to stand next to her. She had met Diane Rivolli when Constantin had introduced them at a dinner party two nights ago, and she remembered he had said that Diane lived outside Rome, near to Casa Celeste on the shores of Lake Albano.
‘Did you know Constantin’s mother?’
‘I knew Susie when she was Susie Hoffman. We belonged to the same modelling agency in New York but Susie was gorgeous and she got far more bookings than any of the other girls.’ Diane shrugged. ‘In fact I met my husband when Susie invited me to stay at Casa Celeste after she’d married Franco De Severino. I think she was lonely, shut away in that huge house that’s more like a museum than a home. As for her husband...’
Diane paused, and Isobel’s curiosity grew. ‘What about Constantin’s father?’
‘Franco was a cold fish. I gained the impression that the only thing he cared about was Susie. But he loved her too much, if that makes sense?’ Seeing Isobel’s puzzled expression, Diane tried to explain. ‘Franco was obsessed with Susie. He disliked her having friends, and although my husband and I only lived a short distance away we were hardly ever invited to Casa Celeste. On the few occasions when we were invited, Franco was always on edge. He hated other men looking at his wife. I even think he was jealous of his own son,’ Diane said meditatively. ‘Susie doted on Constantin, but even when he was a baby Franco seemed to resent her spending time with her son. I caught him looking at Constantin once with such a strange expression on his face, as if he hated the child.’
Isobel was fascinated to hear about Constantin’s family. She had often wondered why he was reluctant to talk about his childhood. ‘Franco must have been devastated when Susie died.’
‘You would think so, but if he was upset he didn’t show it. At her funeral he stood in the church like a cold statue without a flicker of emotion on his face.’ Diane shook her head. ‘I found it even stranger that Constantin never cried for his mother. He stood stiffly at Susie’s graveside like a miniature image of his father and didn’t shed a tear. I didn’t see him again for years because Franco packed him off to boarding school. Constantin must have been about sixteen when Franco married his second wife.’
> ‘I had no idea that Constantin had a stepmother.’ Isobel frowned at this new revelation. ‘He’s never mentioned her.’
‘Maybe that’s because he was in love with Lorena.’ Diane paused again, allowing her startling suggestion to register with Isobel.
‘Constantin was in love with his stepmother?’
The other woman shrugged. ‘Why not? Lorena was much younger than Franco. She was probably only in her early twenties, very attractive—and she knew it! It was pretty obvious that she had married Franco for his money. She enjoyed socialising and she often invited me and my husband to pool parties, although it was clear that Franco hated having visitors.
‘I suppose you couldn’t blame Lorena for wanting to have fun with Constantin when she was stuck with a dour older husband. She turned the boy’s head, flirting with him and paying him attention.’ Diane frowned. ‘There was something quite cruel about the way Lorena deliberately encouraged Constantin’s crush on her, and the way she played father and son off against each other. Franco was jealous of his second wife in the same way he had been with Susie. He was furious if another man so much as looked at her, and Constantin’s puppy-dog devotion to Lorena created a lot of friction between father and son.
‘I don’t know what would have happened if the situation had continued,’ Diane went on, ‘but then Franco and Lorena died in that terrible accident. Poor Constantin, not only did he witness what happened, but the leadership of DSE was thrown into chaos.
‘Constantin should have automatically become joint Chairman and CEO when his father died, but, because he wasn’t eighteen, his father’s brother, Alonso, assumed control of the company. Constantin worked his way up to CEO, and it’s no secret that he wants complete control of DSE.’
Diane took a sip of champagne before continuing. ‘It’s my belief that Constantin would go to any lengths to claim the chairmanship of DSE that he thinks is his birthright.’
Isobel’s head was reeling from everything Diane had said, and she only vaguely registered the bit about Constantin wanting to be Chairman of DSE. Why hadn’t he told her that his father and stepmother had died in an accident when he had been a young man? The tragedy must have had a fundamental impact on Constantin, especially if he had been in love with Lorena. Could it explain his strange behaviour when he had taken her to Casa Celeste? she wondered. Had he become cold and remote with her because he was still in love with his stepmother?
‘What actually happened to Constantin’s father and stepmother?’
Diane gave her a strange look. ‘You mean he hasn’t told you?’ She seemed suddenly flustered when she caught sight of him walking across the ballroom towards them. ‘I’ve probably said too much. Why don’t you ask Constantin what took place at the top of the tower at Casa Celeste?’
CHAPTER TEN
‘THE HOUSE IS shut up and unstaffed apart from a caretaker and gardener because I rarely go there. I don’t understand why you want to visit Casa Celeste.’
‘I’ve told you why. I want to visit Arianna’s grave.’ Isobel held Constantin’s gaze and refused to be intimidated by the impatient expression etched on his taut features. ‘I don’t need staff. I’m perfectly capable of making up a bed and cooking meals.’
He frowned at her across the breakfast bar where they had been enjoying a leisurely Saturday morning breakfast until she had stated her wish to make the twenty-kilometre journey south of the city to Lake Albano. ‘I don’t see the point...’
‘Your lack of understanding says a lot,’ she interrupted him, struggling to hide the hurt in her voice. ‘You’ve obviously been able to forget about our daughter, but I haven’t, nor do I want to forget her. I would like to spend some time at the chapel where she’s buried.’
Last night, when they had arrived home from the party, she had tried to talk about the past and in particular the things Diane Rivolli had said about Constantin’s father and stepmother being involved in a terrible accident at Casa Celeste. But Constantin had refused to be drawn into a discussion, and had distracted her by sweeping her into his arms and whispering in her ear exactly what he was going to do to her once he had removed her dress and the tantalising wisps of her black lace underwear that he had pictured in his mind all evening.
Resistance would be futile, he had warned her. But Isobel had had no intention of resisting him, and by the time he had kissed her senseless before trailing his lips down her body to bestow a wickedly intimate caress that had resulted in her shuddering orgasm, she had forgotten that she had wanted to talk to him. When they had made love last night she had felt closer to him than she had ever felt, and, waking in his arms this morning, she had been filled with optimism that they had a future together. But her request to visit Casa Celeste had created a distinct chill in the atmosphere.
‘It’s never a good idea to revisit the past,’ he said harshly.
‘That’s your way of dealing with things, isn’t it? You pretend they never happened and refuse to talk about them. Are you going to keep running away for ever, Constantin?’ Isobel said bitterly. She looked away from him. ‘I’ve come to terms with the miscarriage, but our baby will always have a special place in my heart. I’m going to Casa Celeste, with or without you.’
Constantin’s jaw clenched. He did not know how to handle this confident Isobel who wasn’t afraid to argue with him. She had changed immeasurably in the two years they had been apart, although her sensuality and generosity when they made love still set her apart from any of his previous lovers, he brooded, feeling his body stir as he remembered the erotic session in the shower that had made them late for the Bonuccis’ party.
‘I can’t spend time away from the office right now,’ he said curtly. ‘I don’t want you to go to the house on your own while the stalker is still a threat to your safety. For all we know, he could have discovered that you are in Rome.’
‘The police in England have arrested David and he is receiving psychiatric care. They phoned with the news yesterday and I meant to tell you when you came home from work, but...’ she blushed as X-rated images of them in the shower flooded her mind ‘...we were distracted.’
‘Hmm...distracted is one way to describe what we were doing,’ Constantin murmured. He walked round the breakfast bar and lifted her off the bar stool, holding her so that her pelvis was in burning contact with his. ‘Why don’t we go back to bed and distract each other some more, mia bella?’
It was hard to think straight when his lips were trailing a sensual path along her collarbone. Isobel felt a familiar melting sensation in the pit of her stomach as he began to unbutton her shirt. She definitely should have worn a bra, she mused, stifling a moan when he rubbed his thumb pads across her nipples and they instantly hardened. All week, when he had rushed off to work each morning, she had longed for him to stay home and make slow leisurely love to her, but now she fought the temptation of his roaming hands and mouth. She recognised his diversionary tactics and refused to be sidetracked from her determination to go to Casa Celeste.
She had told him the truth when she’d said she wanted to visit their baby’s grave. But she also sensed that there were secrets at the De Severino’s ancestral home that she needed to uncover if she was to have a chance of understanding her enigmatic husband.
‘I know what game you’re playing, Constantin,’ she told him. She slid out of his arms and refastened her shirt, wincing as the cotton brushed across the sensitive peaks of her breasts. ‘It won’t work. Either you come with me to Casa Celeste, or I’ll go there on my own before I catch the next flight back to England.’
Constantin gave her a frustrated look. ‘That sounds like blackmail.’ He remembered making the same accusation to his uncle not so long ago.
The stubborn set of Isobel’s jaw infuriated him. She used to be so amenable! ‘I’m tempted to put you over my knee,’ he growled, and had the satisfaction of seeing her ey
es widen and her cheeks suffuse with colour. ‘But if I did, I guarantee we wouldn’t leave the bedroom for a week.’
* * *
Constantin suddenly decided that he had to make several urgent business calls, and he spent all afternoon in his study, meaning that they did not set out for Casa Celeste until early evening. He was uncommunicative during the journey to Lake Albano, and when the car turned through the gates of the De Severino estate onto a long driveway lined with poplar trees he tightened his hands on the steering wheel so that his knuckles whitened.
Diane Rivolli’s suggestion that Isobel should ask him about the accident that had resulted in the deaths of his father and stepmother was not as simple as it seemed, she brooded as she glanced at him. His grim expression did not encourage her to probe into his past, but she was convinced that they could not have a future together unless she could find the key that would unlock his emotions.
Her thoughts were diverted as they drew up in front of the house. The first time Isobel had visited Casa Celeste she had been awed by the grandeur of the four-storey building with its tall windows, elegant columns, and a tall tower topped with a spire that gave the house the look of a fairy-tale castle. Inside was no less magnificent. The frescoes on the walls and ceilings were adorned with gold leaf, and the white marble floors created an ambiance of welcome coolness to visitors entering the house from the heat of the Italian sun.
Diane had been right when she’d said that Casa Celeste was more like a museum than a home, Isobel acknowledged as she walked past a row of portraits of Constantin’s ancestors. It was something she had thought herself when she had stayed there in the past. The dust sheets draped over the furniture added to the impression that this was a house of ghosts.
She shivered. It had been in this house that she had suffered a miscarriage. Shortly after dinner one evening she had been violently sick. The doctor Constantin called out had initially thought she had food poisoning, but the stomach cramps had worsened, and when she had started to bleed she had been rushed into hospital, but nothing could be done to save the baby.
To Wear His Ring Again Page 13
