‘Carlotta. Cara…’ With his gaze locked on hers, Nico reached out and cupped one side of her face with his hand. It was an exquisitely tender touch. Over-whelmingly so. Charlotte had no hope of collecting her thoughts, let alone expressing them. His gaze suggested that if she didn’t want him to play this game she only had to say the word, but how could she when she couldn’t even draw a breath?
And she saw the moment the question in his gaze turned to delight.
Game on.
With a smoothness that suggested Nico was far too good at acting, he turned his charm onto the unsuspecting Lady Geraldine. He gently picked up the hand with its diamond rings flashing in the candlelight. He pressed his lips to it.
‘And you have to be Carlotta’s nonna. I’ve heard so much about you. This is…such a pleasure.’
And then Nico took hold of one of the two spare chairs and moved it so that it was as close to Charlotte’s as possible. He sat down and adjusted the silverware and then nodded at a nearby waiter, who instantly came to fill his champagne glass.
Lady Geraldine was watching this little show with rapt attention and she seemed as lost for words as Charlotte. Until Nico raised his glass, tilted his head in a silent toast to the women, took a long sip and then…smiled.
‘Um…Charlotte?’
‘Yes, Gran?’
‘Is there something you haven’t told me?’
This was her chance to pull the plug on this crazy plan that Nico seemed perfectly happy to put into action. To pretend—in public—that they were a couple in love.
Trouble was, even for the short time it had been happening, it was casting a spell that was unbelievably powerful.
They said that falling in love was magical. Maybe even pretending to be tapped into some of that incomprehensible power.
Whatever. Charlotte could feel the waves of envy coming from the other women in this space. She could see the gleam of joyous disbelief in her grandmother’s eyes. Worst of all, she could almost feel what it would be like having someone like Nico head over heels in love with her.
And, God help her, she wanted more.
Just for an hour or two.
Just enough to give her a bubble of whatever this magic was so that she could remember it when times were bleak.
And there were going to be bleak times ahead.
Could there possibly be a greater gift she could give her beloved grandmother than to let her die with the peace of believing that the child she had raised was happy at last? That she would be loved and cared for in her absence?
It was a very strange feeling, this…giving in. Living in the moment without trying to weigh up any consequences or complications. It was incredibly liberating. Fun—like Nico had suggested it could be? Something was certainly lifting the corners of Charlotte’s mouth.
‘Gran…this is…Nico.’ Her words sounded hesitant. Breathless. The way they would if someone was about to reveal something secret. Something personal and precious.
‘Nico Moretti,’ he expanded. He laid his hand over Charlotte’s on the crisp, white linen tablecloth as he smiled at Lady Geraldine. ‘I am Charlotte’s…’ He hesitated, clearly at a loss for the right word to describe his relationship to her, and she held her breath. Could he really pull this off?
Nico turned his head and she could swear his sigh was one of pure happiness. ‘I am whatever Carlotta will give me the honour of being,’ he murmured.
‘Charlotte?’ The gentle word belied the ‘please explain’ undertone.
‘It’s been s-sudden,’ Charlotte stammered. ‘I was going to tell you today, Gran, but…’
‘But then you started worrying about me.’ Lady Geraldine clicked her tongue. ‘For heaven’s sake, child. This is far more important. I want to know everything.’
Oh, help…Charlotte tried to buy some thinking time by picking up her champagne glass. The Italian prosecco being served was astonishingly light. Delicious. She took another long sip.
‘We actually met years ago,’ Nico said into the expectant silence. ‘At St Margaret’s in London. It was my bad luck that Carlotta was unavailable at that time.’
Uh-oh…It took Lady Geraldine less than a split second to work out exactly what time Nico was referring to and that earned Charlotte a glance she would rather have avoided.
Gran knew there had been far more to the break-up of that relationship—the only one she’d ever known Charlotte to have—than she’d ever been privy to. It was the only aspect of Charlotte’s life she’d ever been shut out of and it was a cloud that had hung over them ever since. Something that was never mentioned but always there.
Charlotte drank the last of her wine and barely noticed the waiter refilling her glass as she listened to Nico continuing to talk.
Why hadn’t she thought that this pretence could open that particular can of worms?
And it was too late to stop it now. She was already in too deep.
About to drown?
He knew he’d said the wrong thing.
Nobody could have missed that electric glance that Lady Geraldine had speared her granddaughter with when he’d said that she had been otherwise attached when he’d first met her.
What the hell was that about?
Never mind. He knew he could redeem himself. He’d been quite confident of pulling this off from the moment he’d walked into this exclusive restaurant and spotted the table he needed to aim for.
The table where the two most beautiful women in the room were sitting.
Maybe Charlotte often wore an elegant silver dress to such a formal occasion but Nico had a strong sense that it was not usual practice for her to leave her hair loose like that—a tumble of soft waves that gleamed an ash blonde in the candlelight. Had she be thinking of him when she’d brushed it out and chosen not to wind it back into its prison of pins?
And the grandmother! Nico had expected an English dowager of some kind. Tall and forbiddingly aloof. He had smiled the moment he’d set eyes on the old lady sitting beside Charlotte. Even from a distance he had caught the flash of her bejewelled hands and even a small tiara nestled in fiery red hair. He could sense her interest in the people around her and an ability to see beneath the surface of social niceties. This was going to be a much more entertaining evening than he could have hoped for.
‘I can’t tell you how often I’ve thought about her since then,’ he told Lady Geraldine with palpable honesty. ‘And then fate brings us together in the most romantic city in the world.’ He shrugged, his smile suggesting he hadn’t made much of an effort to stand firm against the winds of fate.
Was he overdoing things? Judging by the mistiness in Lady Geraldine’s eyes, she was swallowing this very happily, but from the corner of his eye he could see that Charlotte was simply sitting there, staring at him, her lips slightly parted and her expression dazed.
He still had his hand covering hers, so he picked it up. Such a soft hand. Such elegant, long fingers and neat nails that were not disguised by any unnatural colours. He touched his lips to her hand and then leaned forward as though drawn irresistibly to kiss her lips next. They looked soft, too, and when Charlotte unconsciously dampened them with the tip of her tongue, Nico realised that he actually did want to kiss her.
Dio… That wasn’t meant to happen. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat to take control of the unexpected shaft of desire but then he let his breath out in a soft sigh. Did it matter? Charlotte wouldn’t need to know it was anything other than good acting and it would certainly make his performance more believable. He opened his eyes and focused