It had been agreed that Luca would stay with Dani and her family for the night and the thought of being without him brought a lump to her throat. Suddenly she wanted to scoop up her son and run straight back into her old life where her emotions and feelings had been a steady, predictable thing. Instead she had to hug him goodbye and watch as he left with his new family. Was it selfish to wish he were just a little anxious about leaving her? Was it wrong of her to wish he’d clung just a little longer instead of smiling with excitement at the prospect of spending more time with his cousins? Was it cowardly to wish she had him here, because he formed the only effective barrier between herself and Santo?
‘He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about him. Dani may seem scatty but she’s a devoted mother.’ Santo was by her side. Santo, who was now her husband, for richer, for poorer. And it was definitely richer, she thought numbly. Even knowing how wealthy the Ferrara family were, she was still stunned by the sheer luxury of her new life. This was their flagship hotel and their corporate headquarters and at the far side of the private beach was the Aphrodite Villa, the jewel in the Ferrara corporate crown. Occasionally the family rented it to rock stars and royalty, but for the next twenty-four hours it belonged to them and the thought of being alone with Santo in a place designed for lovers made her feel something close to panic.
Over the past week she’d been so busy taking care of Luca, shuttling backwards and forward to the hospital to be with her grandfather, she’d managed not to face up to the reality of their wedding night. But now—
Suddenly she longed for those distractions that had kept her from thinking about this moment. The moment she’d be on her own with Santo.
‘He didn’t need to be sent away.’ She kept her eyes fixed on the distance, determined not to look at him. If he could ignore her, she would ignore him back. ‘It isn’t as if he’s intruding on a romantic interlude. It’s crazy to turn this into something it’s not.’
Her observation was met with silence.
Unnerved by that silence, she glanced briefly at him and collided with night-black eyes that glittered bright with intent.
‘You don’t think he’d be intruding?’ He slid his hand behind her head and brought her face close to his. ‘You want him here while we finally let this thing between us go free? Is that what you want?’ His voice was thickened with raw lust. ‘Because I, for one, have no intention of holding back. I’ve been doing that for long enough and it’s driving me insane.’
Shocked, Fia stared into those eyes. She could see the blaze of hunger. Feel the hard bite of his fingers as he buried them in her hair. And everything he felt, she felt too. How could she not? The chemistry was so powerful that she felt it shoot right through her. She burned up and melted. It might have ended right there on the terrace had not someone cleared their throat right next to them.
This time it was Cristiano, Santo’s older brother. Unlike Dani, he’d been cool with her and Fia suspected he wasn’t going to be so easily won over as his romantic sister.
Brotherly love, she thought numbly.
She’d never had that. Her brother had been selfish and irresponsible and any warmth in their relationship had existed only in her mind. Unlike the Ferraras, where warmth surrounded the family like a protective forcefield.
With visible reluctance, Santo let his hand drop from her neck. ‘Back in a minute.’ Relaxed and unflustered, he strolled away with his brother and Fia took advantage of the distraction to make an exit. She had no intention of waiting. The atmosphere was suffocating and anyway, what was he planning? A romantic walk on the sand? Hardly.
Solar-powered lights lit the path to the beach and she walked quickly, blotting out the thought that this place was perfect for a lovers’ stroll. The setting sun sent a ruby glow over the darkening horizon and in the background she heard the rhythmic chirruping of cicadas and the soft swish of the sea on the sand.
It should have been an idyllic setting but the perfection jarred against the reality.
It felt as inappropriate as the cream silk wedding dress chosen by Dani.
She should have worn red, she thought. Red for danger.
She approached the villa, was momentarily checked by the sheer beauty of the infinity pool and then stopped dead at the sight that greeted her. It was obvious that the place had been lovingly prepared for a night of romance. The doors were open to the beach. Chilled champagne waited by the bed, candles flickered on every surface and rose petals had been scattered on the floor leading to the luxurious bedroom.
She could have coped with the champagne and the candles.
It was the sight of those rose petals that made her throat close.
Rose petals said romance, and that wasn’t what was going on here.
Their relationship was not about romance.
Emotions that had been building since Santo had first strode into her kitchen exploded. Trying to destroy the atmosphere created by the candles, she flicked on harsh overhead lights and started to open doors, looking for a broom—looking for something that would help her remove that romantic symbol from the floor. When she failed to find anything remotely like cleaning equipment she dropped to her knees and started to scoop the petals up by hand, sweeping them into a pile by the bed.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ An incredulous male voice came from the doorway but Fia didn’t even look up. She didn’t dare look up in case everything she was feeling spilled over.
‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’m clearing up the evidence of someone’s warped sense of humour.’ The mound was growing but before she could add any more she was lifted off her knees and planted on her feet.
‘What’s warped about it?’
‘It’s a mockery,’ she croaked. ‘Someone is being intentionally cruel. Making fun of our relationship.’
Dark brows locked together in an uncomprehending frown. ‘I gave the instruction to prepare it the way we do for honeymoons and romantic breaks. I just married you. Short though it may be, this is our honeymoon. There are certain expectations. I’ve projected this as a romance because I don’t want any rumours that will hurt our son.’
So even the rose petals by the bed were for Luca. All of it was for Luca.
‘But he’s not here now, is he? And neither are the journalists. So we can lose the rose petals.’ Her teeth were chattering and he made an impatient sound and his fingers tightened on her shoulders.
‘What is the significance of a few rose petals?’
‘Precisely! They have no significance! They have no place in our relationship, and if you can’t see that—’ She tugged herself away from him. ‘I think you are the most insensitive man I’ve ever met. I’ve gone along with this whole white wedding charade although I would have been quite happy just to have kept it small—’
‘That was small.’
Fia wasn’t listening. ‘I’ve bitten my tongue when the press have gone on about Romeo and Juliet which, by the way, isn’t actually the best analogy given that both of them die at the end, I said my vows and I gave you my son. I did all that not because I have feelings for you but because I have feelings for him and I can see that already he loves you! I’m prepared to do all that for him and I’m prepared to be nice Mommy when we’re all together but when we’re alone—that’s different.’
Suddenly she felt exhausted and she pressed her fingers to her forehead, struggling to contain emotion that felt too big for her body. ‘Do you know what? I actually respected you for not