A Convenient Bridegroom

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Half an hour later she descended the stairs to the lower floor and entered the lounge. Teresa and Giuseppe were grouped together sharing a light aperitif.

Her father turned towards her, his expression a comedic mix of parental pride and male appreciation. Any hint of paternal remonstrance was absent, doubtless on the grounds that his beloved daughter was safely spoken for, on the verge of marriage, and therefore he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

Teresa, however, was something else. One glance was all it took for those dark eyes to narrow fractionally and the lips to thin. Appearance was everything, and tonight Aysha did not fit her mother’s required image.

‘Don’t you think that’s a little …?’ Teresa paused delicately. ‘Bold, darling?’

‘Perhaps,’ Aysha conceded, and directed her father a teasing glance. ‘Papà?’

Giuseppe was well versed in the ways of mother and daughter, and sought a diplomatic response. ‘I’m sure Carlo will be most appreciative.’ He gestured towards a crystal decanter. ‘Can I fix you a spritzer?’

She hadn’t eaten much throughout the day, just nibbled on fresh fruit, sipped several glasses of water, and taken three cups of long black coffee. Alcohol would go straight to her head. ‘I stopped by the kitchen when I arrived home and fixed some juice,’ she declined gently. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Unless I’m mistaken, that’s Carlo now.’

The light crunch of car tires, the faint clunk of a door closing, followed by the distant sound of melodic door chimes heralded his arrival, and within seconds their live-in housekeeper ushered him into the lounge.

Aysha crossed the room and caught hold of his hand, then offered her cheek for his kiss. It was a natural gesture, one that was expected, and only she heard the light teasing murmur close to her ear. ‘Stunning.’

His arm curved round the back of her waist and he drew her with him as he moved to accept Teresa’s greeting.

‘A drink, Carlo?’

‘I’ll wait until dinner.’

It would be easy to lean in against him, and for a moment she almost did. Except there was no one to impress, and the evening lay ahead.

Giuseppe swallowed the remainder of his wine, and placed his glass down onto the tray. ‘In that case, perhaps we should be on our way. Teresa?’

At that moment the phone rang, and Teresa frowned in disapproval. ‘I hope that’s not going to make us late.’

Not unless the call heralded something of dire consequence; there wasn’t a chance. Aysha bit back on the mockery, and sensed her mother’s words even before they were uttered.

‘You and Carlo go on ahead. We won’t be far behind you.’

Sliding into the passenger seat of the car was achieved with greater decorum than she expected, and she was in the process of fastening her seatbelt when Carlo moved behind the wheel.

A deft flick of his wrist and the engine purred to life. Almost a minute later they had traversed the curved driveway and were heading towards the city.

‘Am I correct in assuming the dress is a desire to shock?’

Aysha heard the drawling voice, sensed the underlying cynicism tinged with humour, and turned to look at him. ‘Does it succeed?’

She was supremely conscious of the amount of bare thigh showing, and she fought against the temptation to take hold of the hemline and attempt to tug it down.