скачать книгу бесплатно
‘Next week?’ she asked, eyes widening. ‘Why so soon?’
Angelo held her gaze. ‘I know how your mind works, Natalie. I’m not leaving anything up to chance. The sooner we are married, the sooner your brother gets out of trouble.’
‘Can I see him?’
‘No.’
She frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘He’s not allowed visitors,’ Angelo said.
‘But that’s ridiculous!’ she said. ‘Of course he’s allowed visitors. It’s a basic human right.’
‘Not where he is currently staying,’ he said. ‘You’ll see him soon enough. In the meantime, I think it’s time I met the rest of your family—don’t you agree?’
Something shifted behind her gaze. ‘Why do you want to meet my family?’ she said. ‘Anyway, apart from Lachlan there is only my parents.’
‘Most married couples meet their respective families,’ Angelo said. ‘My parents will want to meet you. And my grandparents and uncles and aunts and cousins.’
She gave him a worried look. ‘They’re not all coming to the ceremony, are they?’
‘But of course,’ he said. ‘We will fly to Rome on Tuesday. The wedding will be on Saturday, at my grandparents’ villa, in the private chapel that was built especially for their wedding day sixty years ago.’
Her eyes looked like a startled fawn’s. ‘F-fly?’
‘Si, cara,’ he said dryly. ‘On an aeroplane. You know—those big things that take off at the airport and take you where you want to go? I have a private one—a Lear jet that my family use to get around.’
Her mouth flattened obstinately. ‘I’m not flying.’
Angelo frowned. ‘What do you mean, you’re not flying?’
She shifted her gaze, her arms tightening across her body. ‘I’m not flying.’
It took Angelo a moment or two to figure it out. It shocked him that he hadn’t picked it up before. It all made sense now that he thought about it.
‘That’s why you caught the train down from Edinburgh yesterday,’ he said. ‘That’s why, when I suggested five years ago that we take that cut-price trip to Malta, you said you couldn’t afford it and refused to let me pay for you. We had a huge fight over it. You wouldn’t speak to me for days. It wasn’t about your independence, was it? You’re frightened of flying.’
She turned her back on him and stood looking out of his office window, the set of her spine as rigid as a plank. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Call me a nut job. You wouldn’t be the first.’
Angelo released a long breath. ‘Natalie … Why didn’t you tell me?’
She still stood looking out of the window with her back to him. ‘Hi, my name’s Natalie Armitage and I’m terrified of flying. Yeah, that would have really got your notice that night in the bar.’
‘What got my notice in that bar was your incredible eyes,’ he said. ‘And the fact that you stood up to that creep who was trying it on with you.’
He saw the slight softening of her spine and shoulders, as if the memory of that night had touched something deep inside her, unravelling one of the tight cords of resolve she had knotted in place. ‘You didn’t have to rescue me like some big macho caveman,’ she said after a short pause. ‘I could’ve taken care of it myself.’
‘I was brought up to respect and protect women,’ Angelo said. ‘That guy was a drunken fool. I enjoyed hauling him out to the street. He was lucky I didn’t rearrange his teeth for him. God knows I was tempted.’
She turned and looked at him, her expression still intractable. ‘I don’t want to fly, Angelo,’ she said. ‘It’s easy enough to drive. It’ll only take a couple of days. I’ll make my own way there if you can’t spare the time.’
Angelo studied her dark blue gaze. He saw the usual obstinacy glittering there, but behind that was a flicker of fear—like a stagehand peeping out from behind the curtains to check on the audience. It made him wonder if he had truly known her five years ago. He had thought he had her all figured out, but this was a facet to her personality he had never even suspected. He had always prided himself on his perspicuity, on his ability to read people and situations. But he could see now that reading Natalie was like reading a complex multilayered book.
‘I’ll be with you the whole time,’ he said. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you.’
‘That’s hardly reassuring,’ she said with a cynical look, ‘considering this whole marriage thing you’ve set up is a plot for revenge.’
‘My intention is not for you to suffer,’ he said.
Her chin came up and her eyes flashed again. ‘Oh, really?’
Angelo drew in a breath and released it forcefully as he went back behind his desk. He gripped the back of his chair as he faced her. ‘Why must you search for nefarious motives in everything I do or say?’
She gave a little scoffing laugh. ‘Pardon me for being a little suspicious, but you’re surely not going to tell me you still care about me after all this time?’
Angelo’s fingers dug deeper into the leather of his chair until his knuckles whitened. He didn’t love her. He refused to love her. She had betrayed him. He was not going to forgive and forget that in a hurry. But he would have her. That was different. That had nothing to do with emotions.
He deliberately relaxed his grasp and sat down. ‘We have unfinished business,’ he said. ‘I knew that the minute you walked in that door yesterday.’
‘You’re imagining things,’ she said.
He put up one brow. ‘Am I?’
She held his gaze for a beat, before she lowered it to focus on the glass paperweight on his desk. ‘How long do you think this marriage will last?’ she asked.
‘It can last as long as we want it to,’ Angelo said.
Her gaze met his again. ‘Don’t you mean as long as you want it to?’ she asked.
He gave a little up and down movement of his right shoulder. ‘You ended things the last time,’ he said. ‘Isn’t it fair that I be the one to do so this time around?’
Her mouth tightened. ‘I ended things because it was time to move on,’ she said. ‘We were fighting all the time. It wasn’t a love match. It was a battlefield.’
‘Oh, come on,’ Angelo said. ‘What are you talking about, Natalie? All couples fight. It’s part and parcel of being in a relationship. There are always little power struggles. It’s what makes life interesting.’
‘That might have been the way you were brought up, but it certainly wasn’t the way I was,’ she said.
He studied her expression again, noting all the little nuances of her face: the way she chewed at the inside of her mouth but tried to hide it, the way her eyes flickered away from his but then kept tracking back, as if they were being pulled by a magnetic force, and the way her finely boned jaw tightened when she was feeling cornered.
‘How were you brought up to resolve conflict?’ he asked.
She reached for her bag and got to her feet. ‘Look, I have a train to catch,’ she said. ‘I have a hundred and one things to see to.’
‘Why didn’t you drive down from Edinburgh?’ he asked. ‘You haven’t suddenly developed a fear of driving too, have you?’
Her eyes hardened resentfully. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I like travelling by train. I can read or sketch or listen to music. I find driving requires too much concentration—especially in a city as crowded as London. Besides, it’s better for the environment. I want to reduce my carbon footprint.’
Angelo rose to his feet and joined her at the door, placing his hand on the doorknob to stop her escaping. ‘I’ll need you to sign some papers in the next day or two.’
Her chin came up. The hard glitter was back in her gaze. ‘A prenuptial agreement?’
He glanced at her mouth. He ached to feel it move under the pressure of his. He could feel the surge of his blood filling him with urgent, ferocious need.
‘Yes,’ he said, meeting her gaze again. ‘Do you have a problem with that?’
‘No,’ she said, eyeballing him right back. ‘I’ll have one of my own drawn up. I’m not letting you take away everything I’ve worked so hard for.’
He smiled and tapped her gently on the end of her nose. ‘Touché,’ he said.
She blinked at him, looking flustered and disorientated. ‘I—I have to go,’ she said, and made a grab for the doorknob.
Angelo captured her hand within his. Her small, delicate fingers were dwarfed by the thickness and length and strength of his. He watched her eyes widen as he slowly brought her hand up to his mouth. He stopped before making contact with his lips, just a hair’s breadth from touching. He watched as her throat rose and fell. He felt the jerky little gust of her cinnamon-scented breath. He saw her glance at his mouth, saw too the quick nervous dart of her tongue as she swept it out over her lips.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ he said, dropping her hand and opening the door for her. ‘Ciao.’
She brushed past him in the doorway and without a single word of farewell she left.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_0dcc7095-b32a-5b23-94d5-1d4635603ff0)
‘CONGRATULATIONS,’ said Linda, Natalie’s assistant, the following morning when she arrived at work.
‘Pardon?’
Linda held up a newspaper. ‘Talk about keeping your cards close to your chest,’ she said. ‘I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.’
‘I’m …’ Natalie took the paper and quickly scanned it. There was a short paragraph about Angelo and her and their upcoming nuptials. Angelo was quoted as saying he was thrilled they were back together and how much he was looking forward to being married next week.
‘Is it true or is it a prank?’ Linda asked.
Natalie put the paper down on the counter. ‘It’s true,’ she said, chewing at her bottom lip.
‘Pardon me if I’m overstepping the mark here, but you don’t look too happy about it,’ Linda said.
Natalie forced a smile to her face. ‘Sorry, it’s just been such a pain … er … keeping it quiet until now,’ she said, improvising as she went. ‘We didn’t want anyone to speculate about us getting back together until we were sure it was what we both wanted.’
‘Gosh, how romantic!’ Linda said. ‘A secret relationship.’
‘Not so secret now,’ Natalie said a little ruefully as her stomach tied itself in knots. How was she going to cope with the constant press attention? They would swarm about her like bees. Angelo was used to being chased by the paparazzi. He was used to cameras flashing in his face and articles being written that were neither true nor false but somewhere in between.
She liked her privacy. She guarded it fiercely. Now she would be thrust into the public arena not for her designs and her talent but for whom she was sleeping with.
Her stomach gave another little shuffle. Not that she would be actually sleeping with Angelo. She was determined not to give in to that particular temptation. Her body might still have some sort of programmed response to him, but that didn’t mean she had to give in to it.
She could be strong.
She would be strong.
And determined.
He wouldn’t find her so easy to seduce this time around. She had been young and relatively inexperienced five years ago. She was older and wiser now. She hadn’t fallen in love with him before and she wasn’t about to fall in love with him now. He would be glad to call an end to their marriage before a month or two. She couldn’t see him tolerating her intransigence for very long. He was used to getting his own way. He wanted a submissive, I’ll-do-anything-to-please-you wife.
There wasn’t a bone in Natalie’s body that would bend to any man’s will, and certainly not to Angelo Bellandini’s.
‘These came for you while you were at the lawyer’s,’ Linda said when Natalie came back to the studio a couple of hours later.
Natalie looked at the massive bunch of blood-red roses elegantly wrapped and ribboned, their intoxicating clove-like perfume filling the air.
‘Aren’t you going to read the card?’ Linda asked.
‘Er … yes,’ Natalie said unpinning the envelope from the cellophane and tissue wrap. She took the card out and read: See you tonight, Angelo.
‘From Angelo?’ Linda asked.
‘Yes,’ Natalie said, frowning.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You’re frowning.’
She quickly relaxed her features. ‘I’ve got a few things to see to in my office at home. Do you mind holding the fort here for the rest of the day?’
‘Not at all,’ Linda said. ‘I guess you’ll have to leave me in charge when you go on your honeymoon, right?’
Natalie gave her a tight on-off smile as she grabbed her bag and put the strap over her shoulder. ‘I don’t think I’ll be away very long,’ she said.
‘Aren’t you going to take the roses with you?’ Linda asked.
Natalie turned back and scooped them up off the counter. ‘Good idea,’ she said, and left.
Angelo looked at the three-storey house in a leafy street in the well-to-do Edinburgh suburb of Morningside. It had a gracious elegance about it that reminded him of Natalie immediately. Even the garden seemed to reflect parts of her personality. The neatly clipped hedges and the meticulous attention to detail in plants and their colour and placement bore witness to a young woman who liked order and control.
He smiled to himself as he thought how annoyed she would be at the way things were now out of her control. He had the upper hand and he was going to keep it. He would enjoy watching her squirm. He had five years of bitterness to avenge. Five years of hating her, five years of wanting her, five years of being tortured by memories of her body in his arms.
Five years of trying to replace her.
He put his finger to the highly polished brass doorbell. A chime-like sound rang out, and within a few seconds he heard the click-clack of her heels as she came to answer its summons. He could tell she was angry. He braced himself for the blast.
‘How dare you release something to the press without checking with me first?’ she said as her opening gambit.
‘Hello, cara,’ he said. ‘I’m fine, thank you. And you?’
She glowered at him as she all but slammed the door once he had stepped over its threshold. ‘You had no right to say anything to anyone,’ she said. ‘I was followed home by paparazzi. I had cameras going off in my face as soon as I left my studio. I almost got my teeth knocked out by one of their microphones.’
‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘I’m so used to it I hardly notice it any more. Do you want me to get you a bodyguard? I should’ve thought of it earlier.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course I don’t want a bloody bodyguard!’ she said. ‘I just want this to go away. I want all of this to go away.’
