An Inconvenient Love (Crimson Romance) (5 page)

“
Bellissima
,” he whispered, as he took her hand in his. His voice was husky and he seemed lost for words. Clearing his throat, he added, “Our appointment is in forty minutes. We must go soon. You need anything else?”

Appointment, not wedding. She looked back at the building that had been her home for the past four years. The red paint on the bricks had faded to a dull pink. The draughty windows would be chilling someone else in future. It had been the first place she could call her own, but aside from a few laughs with Olivia, it held no fond memories—only worries about paying the rent and what the future held.

“No, I have everything.” She lifted her chin and tried to smile. “I packed a set of clothes in my carry-on bag so I can change after … lunch.” The last word came out a bit strangled; she couldn’t quite keep all the apprehension out of her voice. He smiled and squeezed her hand in support.

“Shall we go then?” Luca said, ushering them into the limo. His hand found its way to the small of her back, sending a slow-burning heat up her spine. Sitting next to him in the car, their thighs touching, she fidgeted as tingles radiated throughout her entire body.

They arrived at the registry office, and all too soon, she found herself standing next to Luca. He held both her hands and stared into her eyes. In a deep, husky voice he promised to, “protect, respect and care for Sophia for the rest of my life.” For a brief second, she almost believed in love. Then Olivia’s boyfriend yawned loudly, bringing Sophia to her senses.

She cleared her throat and her voice only shook a little as she promised to “honor, respect, and care for Luca for the rest of my life.”

She’d done it. She’d really, finally closed a door on her past and started a new life. Gone was Sophia Stevens. The pain of the past could now be buried under a new identity, a new life.

She was Sophia Castellioni.

The registrar made his final pronouncements about the legality of their union, making a small effort to sound like he hadn’t said the exact same words a thousand times already. “You may kiss the bride,” he finally declared.

Luca’s mouth descended, in slow motion. As his warm lips touched hers, a white hot flame burst to life behind her eyes. Before she got used to the sensation, he pulled back an inch. Instinctively, she opened her lips to protest. In the next instant he pulled her hard against his tall, muscular body. The gentle, just-married kiss transformed to a full on assault of her senses. The flame behind her eyes became an all-out inferno that threatened to sear her mind.

Olivia’s fake cough brought her back to reality with a bump. Luca slowly relaxed his grip, holding her against him while she regained her balance. His skin was flushed and his breathing rapid, echoing her own. With a little shake of his head, he turned to the registrar and thanked him for the ceremony.

“I know this is not the wedding you probably dreamed of,” he said after they signed the required documentation. “I have asked a photographer to take a few photos. Would it be too much if I ask you to pretend we are in love? You see, my mother will want some pictures … ” He shrugged, a gesture that said where his mother was concerned, he would do anything to make her happy.

“Of course. I’m very good at pretending,” she replied.

The photographer took several dozen shots. Luca holding her, gazing into her eyes, kissing her lightly. Anyone who saw the photos would believe this was a love match.

When they made their way to the waiting limo, Sophia was lightheaded. She put it down to the brevity of the ceremony and the sudden realization that she now was married to Luca, and not the memory of his just-married kiss that caused her confusion. If just the touch of his lips on hers had this effect, what would it be like tonight—tonight when his lips were free to explore? He said he’d wait for children, but would he wait to consummate their marriage? Did
she
want to wait? And what would he say when he saw her scars?

Olivia sidled up to her and whispered in her ear, “I seriously doubt you’ll be thinking of England tonight.” The comment, so close to her own thoughts, sent a shiver through her whole body.

“We are now descending into Milan Malpensa airport,” the captain announced over the intercom. “Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for landing.”

Luca glanced over at Sophia as she brought her seatback into the upright position. She looked tired but didn’t seem unusually nervous, despite this being her first time flying. He wished he could read her, but she was an enigma. Her serenity in the unusual circumstances was a bit disconcerting. As they’d left the hotel after lunch, Sophia had hugged Olivia, then put her hand on his arm and walked out without looking back. He had no idea what she thought of their quick marriage. But his imagination was in top form just thinking about the possibilities of their wedding night, while his wife looked as though a river of ice flowed through her veins.

She hadn’t even batted an eyelash when he’d apologized about the need to work on the flight. She’d simply smiled and reclined and closed her eyes. Putting his papers back in his briefcase, he stowed it under the seat in front. He took hold of her hand on the armrest between them—to give her some support if she was nervous about the landing, of course—and was rewarded with a shy smile. It was a new feeling for him. Sure, he had enjoyed his share of female companionship over the years, yet he had never felt a longing to simply touch someone. It wasn’t something that pleased him.

Thirty minutes later, Sophia’s eyes widened as the valet handed over the keys to his Maserati GranTurismo. Luca opened the passenger door for her and couldn’t help grinning at the surprised look on her face. “This is my favorite toy,” he remarked as he slid behind the wheel. Her small, delicate hands ran over the butter-soft leather seats and along the dash. His mouth went dry as he imagined those same hands caressing his body. “I have a more practical vehicle, a Land Rover, for visiting job sites. This makes being stuck in traffic bearable. Do you drive?”

“No, I never learned. And looking at this traffic, I don’t think I want to learn in Italy.”

“City traffic takes getting used to,” he acknowledged. “Out in the country where I—
we
live, it is much easier to drive. I will teach you.”

“Maybe when I adjust to the cars on the wrong side of the road,” she replied quietly. She stared out the window at the passing scenery, seeming so calm, serene.

“It is such a beautiful country,” she commented as they left the motorway and started to drive through the village. “I’ve hardly been out of London. Have you always lived in this part of Italy?”

“Yes, I was born not far from where we now live. My mother is originally from Sardinia, so I went there for summer holidays while my grandparents were alive. Then I lived in Milan in my twenties. When the villa came on the market, I jumped at the chance to buy it. Of course, it was in a derelict state, and it took almost a year to restore. I have only lived in it for six months. I am hoping you will have some suggestions on how to make it feel more like a home. Perhaps your interior design skills will help.”

“How did you know I was studying interior design?” Sophia’s eyes narrowed.

“Olivia mentioned it. I do not remember if it was before or after she told me that she would hunt me down and castrate me if I ever hurt you,” he replied, with a mock shiver.

Sophia laughed, finally “Olivia is a bit protective.”

“Protecting you is my job now. But she seems like a good friend.”

“Olivia’s the best. Would you mind if she came for a visit in a couple of months?”

“She can come any time you wish. There is plenty of room.” He drove through the new steel gates and pulled into the semicircle driveway.

“This … this is your house?”

“Our house,” he corrected as he stopped the car. Her reaction surprised him. He knew she’d married him for his money, and it seemed, the chance to leave London, but clearly she hadn’t expected this level of wealth. It suited him that she’d been easy to persuade. But at the back of his mind, he wondered what had made her desperate enough to accept his proposal.

They had a lifetime to get to know each others' secrets—starting tonight. His blood rushed to his groin as it had when he’d first seen her in her wedding gown. Never having experienced such instant lust before, he was as intrigued as disconcerted.

He dragged his mind from the bedroom and helped her out of the low-slung sports car. “Come, I will introduce you to Maria and Vittore.” His hand found its way to the small of her back of its own volition.

“Who are they?” Sophia looked around as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Maria is the cook and Vittore is the gardener. They live on-site. The girl who cleans comes in from the village each day.”

“You have staff?”

“Of course, you do not think I brought you here to clean and cook, do you?”

“It’s a good thing, because I can only cook beans on toast and jacket potatoes.”

“That does not even qualify as cooking.” He winked.

• • •

Sophia wiped damp palms on her trousers.
Staff?
What did she know about directing staff? And what would they think of her, the bought bride who knew nothing of their language or culture?

They climbed the five stone stairs to the massive double front doors. Luca had to take his hand from her back to open the door with a massive ornate key.

“Shall I carry you across the threshold?”

She smiled at his effort to pretend this was a proper marriage. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

He looked almost disappointed. “Welcome to your new home.” He flung his arm wide and waited for her to enter first.

The entrance was wide and tiled in white marble. A round, wooden table stood in the center of the room with a large vase of fresh flowers. A curved staircase on the left side of the hallway led to an upstairs gallery. The walls were painted a pale cream and dotted with sepia-toned pictures of vineyards and olive groves. Understated elegance came to mind, but no hint of warmth or comfort.

“I will give you the quick tour and you can wander around at your leisure later.” Luca opened a door on the right, revealing a sitting room that looked stiff and uncomfortable. There was no hint of his personality. He continued through glass doors from the sitting room to a large dining room, furnished with a heavy oak table and high-back chairs. The furniture would fit in a medieval castle—an Italian villa, not so much. From the dining room they returned to the entrance hall through an arched doorway.

“That door leads to the kitchen,” Luca said, as though that part of the house was some foreign territory to which visas were seldom issued.

They crossed to a paneled door that led to another sitting room. This one was a lot cozier and the first room in the house where Sophia could imagine spending any amount of time. She pictured herself in winter time on the large, overstuffed cream sofa, snuggled under a blanket, reading a book with a fire crackling in the tall fireplace across the room. Or better yet, snuggled in Luca’s arms watching the firelight play across his handsome face. To distract herself from the fantasy, she moved over to the mantel to look at the photos displayed there.

“My mother,” Luca said, coming to stand close behind her, “taken on her recent wedding day. I have not told her about our marriage yet. There will be plenty of time for her to meet you later.”

She moved the frame so it was straight on the mantel and glanced up at Luca. Had he not told his mother because their marriage was simply a business arrangement to him, a transaction like purchasing a piece of property? Whatever the reason, she was relieved she didn’t have to deal with a mother-in-law at the moment.

“Let me introduce you to Maria.” He took her hand in his and walked through to the kitchen.

A couple were sat at the table, having a hot beverage and a slice of cake, but jumped up as Luca entered. A flurry of Italian followed, and Sophia took the opportunity to look around. The kitchen was gorgeous. Brass-bottomed pots hung from a rack above the marble-topped island. Bottles of oil with various peppers and spices inside were lined up on the counter like soldiers waiting for a call to duty. And the smell—her stomach rumbled with one sniff. The scent of a hundred homemade meals, cooked with love and attention, lingered in the air. She’d been too nervous to eat at lunchtime, and her body took the opportunity to remind her.

The couple approached and she shook hands with the elderly man. He looked about a hundred years old, but his handshake was firm, and he had a sparkle in his eye as he smiled at her. His wife was delightfully round, and rather than shaking Sophia’s outstretched hand, Maria enveloped her in a hug, kissing her on both cheeks while whispering something in Italian that she couldn’t understand. At least it sounded welcoming.

Luca’s mobile phone rang. He silenced it, then turned to Sophia with an apologetic smile. “Sorry to cut short the tour, but I have a deal closing this afternoon. I have to make a few phone calls now, if you will excuse me. Feel free to wander around. Do you want something to eat before dinner? Maria will be happy to make you a snack.”

“Perhaps a slice of cake and a coffee?”

Luca translated her request and Maria bustled over to the counter to cut a slice of cake. “Unfortunately, neither of them speak any English. But I’m sure you’ll find a way to communicate. Dinner will be at 8:00
p.m
. I’ll see you in the front room then?”

“Okay,” Sophia replied. She took a deep breath to ease the pressure in her chest. Well, he’d warned her that business was his first priority. She might as well get used to it.

Luca kissed her briefly on the cheek before turning on his heel and leaving the room. She smiled at the elderly couple and took a seat at the table. Because she was unable to communicate with her companions, silence loomed long and large in the beautiful kitchen. Their faces were kindly as they sat with her, but she could sense their curiosity. It wasn’t every day their boss went out in the morning and returned with a bride.