Читать книгу Modern Romance Collection: April 2018 Books 5 - 8 - Andie Brock, Heidi Rice - Страница 14
ОглавлениеHARPER HAD TO admit that there was a certain heady excitement about going into these exclusive designer boutiques and knowing she could buy anything she wanted. At the mention of Vieri Romano’s name, the snooty shop assistants were falling over themselves to help her, parading a dazzling array of garments before her. In the end she bought a cocktail dress, a pair of tailored trousers and a fitted jacket, all of which, she decided sourly, would be considered sufficiently appropriate.
But still no ball gown. As she breathed in the expensively scented air of yet another boutique, Harper determined that she would not leave this one without the requisite purchase. She was quite sure that there were any number of beautiful dresses here that would be more than suitable. The fact that she didn’t feel right in any of them was because of the circumstances, not the gowns.
Finally she made her choice, a dark green lightweight velvet creation with a demure neckline and a full-length skirt. It was considerably less daring than some of the outfits, which was why she picked it. She didn’t want to feel sexy around Vieri. Not when just the memory of that clinch, that kiss, was enough to set her knees wobbling again.
She was arranging to have it delivered to the hotel when she was interrupted by a tall, striking-looking middle-aged woman who she had noticed idly flicking through a rail of clothes and who had now silently come to stand beside her.
‘Excuse me.’
Harper turned and gave her a friendly smile. It wasn’t returned.
‘Did I hear you say that you are a guest of Vieri Romano?’ The woman spoke perfect English.
‘Yes.’ Harper wasn’t sure what business it was of hers but she politely replied.
‘How very interesting.’ Perfectly made-up eyes swept over her from top to toe, taking in every little detail until Harper felt she was staring at her very bones. ‘And that outfit you are buying.’ She pointed a manicured finger at the dress being held by the sales assistant. ‘It is for the Winter Ball?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Then how fortunate for you that we bumped into each other. A dress like that will never do. Vieri will hate it.’
Harper frowned. She didn’t like being spoken to like this by a woman she didn’t know from Adam. In fact, instinctively she didn’t like this woman at all, but, positioned firmly beside her as she was, she was impossible to ignore. Sensing Harper’s reluctance, the woman gave her a forced smile.
‘How rude you must think me, my dear.’ She extended a hand weighed down with jewelled rings. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Donatella Sorrentino. I am an old friend of Vieri’s.’
‘Harper McDonald.’ Harper took her hand but found herself pulled into an awkward embrace, the soft fur of the woman’s mink coat crushed against her chest as several heavily perfumed air kisses were wafted on either side of her. Pulling away, Donatella studied her with highly critical eyes.
‘So tell me, Harper McDonald, how do you come to be accompanying Vieri to the ball?’
Harper moved a step away. ‘Alfonso, Vieri’s godfather, is a patron of the charity that hosts the ball.’
‘You hardly need to tell me that, my dear.’ Donatella’s eyes glittered coldly. ‘I suspect I know rather more about Sicilian society than you do. And quite apart from that, Alfonso Calleroni is my uncle.’
‘Oh.’ Harper was suitably chastened. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’
‘Why would you? How is the old man, by the way?’ She only just managed to stifle a bored yawn. ‘I have been meaning to pay him a visit.’
‘He is very frail.’ Harper chose her words carefully. She wasn’t going to be the one to tell this woman her uncle was dying, even if she suspected she wouldn’t give a damn. ‘But I think having Vieri here is cheering him up.’
‘I’m sure. And you? Where do you fit into this cosy little scenario?’
Harper hesitated. Apart from Alfonso, no one else knew about their engagement and she only ever wore the tell-tale ring when they were visiting him. To tell a woman like this, who looked as if malicious gossip could be her middle names, might be a dangerous thing. But on the other hand, what did it matter? People were bound to find out sooner or later and frankly the temptation to try and shock that supercilious face out of its Botoxed grimace was too great to resist. She took in a breath.
‘I am Vieri’s fiancée.’
The look of total astonishment on Donatella’s face was so great that Harper wasn’t sure she had actually taken the information in. She decided to clarify, just for good measure. ‘We are engaged to be married.’
‘Mio Dio!’ The words rasped from her throat before Donatella had time to stop them. But she quickly recovered herself. ‘How simply wonderful. Come, let me embrace you.’ She tugged Harper against her again, speaking over her shoulder. ‘Why, that means we are almost family.’
Harper suppressed a shudder. If she had thought her own family was bad enough, this woman was on another level altogether.
Pulling away, Donatella held her at arm’s length, gripping her shoulders that bit too hard with bony hands that felt more like claws. ‘To think that Vieri is finally to marry. You must tell me simply everything, my dear, where you met, how you came to fall in love, although Vieri of course has always been totally irresistible and you...you are such a pretty young thing. When is the wedding to be? This is all so romantic!’ She was babbling now, the words coming out in a rabid torrent. ‘We must have lunch.’ Fishing in her bag, she produced a diary, hurriedly flicking through the pages. ‘Now, let me see—’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Harper interrupted, ‘but I can’t give you a date right now. I’m not really sure what my plans are.’
This brought Donatella’s head back up. ‘Your plans?’ Immediately she pounced on Harper’s mistake. ‘I’m sure Vieri will have everything mapped out for you both. He has always been so frightfully organised. When did you say the wedding was?’
‘I didn’t,’ Harper replied firmly. ‘We haven’t fixed a date yet.’
‘So this is all quite sudden?’ Cold blue eyes drilled into her. ‘You haven’t known Vieri very long?’
‘Not long, no.’
‘I thought as much. You would never be considering buying that ghastly dress if you knew Vieri like I do. Look...’ she glanced at her watch ‘...I can give you fifteen minutes. At least let me choose a suitable dress for you.’ She moved over to the rails, snapping her fingers at the sales assistants, who rushed to her side to take hold of the garments she was rapidly selecting in a frantic rustle of taffeta and silk.
‘Now run along and try these on and I will wait here to give you my final verdict.’ She decorously draped herself on a velvet chaise longue, all eagle-eyed determination.
‘We can’t have you letting our Vieri down, now, can we?’
* * *
Sitting at the pavement café, Vieri took a sip of his espresso and opened his newspaper. His morning had gone well, a successful business meeting seeing him acquire a large plot of land ripe for development to add to his portfolio here in Sicily. And right now, even though he had vowed never to live here again, he couldn’t deny that being back in Palermo felt good, felt like coming home.
A flash of auburn-coloured hair across the road caught his eye and suddenly there was Harper, striding along in the sunshine, her shoulder bag bouncing against her side. She seemed completely oblivious to the admiring glances of the men around her but Vieri wasn’t. He found his grip tightening on the handle of his cup.
In truth, seeing her here wasn’t entirely coincidental. At breakfast that morning she had told him she was going to visit the antiquities museum, which happened to be just around the corner. He had offered her a lift into town with him, which of course she had declined. It seemed she preferred to walk.
Now he watched as she bent down to stroke the head of a mangy-looking dog belonging to a beggar sheltering in a doorway. Vieri closed his newspaper, observing them intently. He saw Harper take her purse from her bag, pull out some notes, then turn the purse to shake out the coins before offering the whole lot to the man, who was getting to his feet, his hands cupped before him eagerly. Vieri stood up, his protective instinct on high alert. The beggar was pulling Harper towards him, either in some sort of embrace, or he was about to go through her pockets—or worse. Whichever, it was enough to see Vieri leap through two lanes of traffic with horns blaring, to land by her side.
‘That’s enough.’ Speaking in Sicilian he pulled the man away by his shoulder, the beggar looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and surprise. ‘Get your hands off her.’
‘Vieri!’ Harper rounded on him in outrage. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘I could ask the same of you.’ Moving his hand to the small of her back, he propelled her forward along the pavement, tucking her arm through his to secure her to his side. ‘I just saw you giving him the entire contents of your purse.’
‘So what if I did.’ She tripped angrily along beside him. ‘It wasn’t your money, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘I don’t give a damn about the money.’ He navigated them between the pedestrians. ‘But I do worry about you getting yourself into dangerous situations.’
‘Well, don’t. I can take care of myself. And besides, there was nothing dangerous about that. The poor man was hungry, that’s all, and so was the dog.’
‘That’s as may be. But that doesn’t mean he’s not a violent criminal.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Jerking to a halt, Harper pulled her arm from under his and held it across her chest. ‘I don’t know how you live like that, thinking the worst of everyone. I feel sorry for you, I really do.’
‘Save your pity for the beggars, cara.’ He met her heated stare full on. ‘And besides, I don’t think the worst of everyone. When it came to your sister it seems I didn’t think badly enough.’
He watched, not without some satisfaction, as the famous pout put in another appearance. She really had the most luscious lips, pink and full and perfectly formed. It was all he could do to stop himself from raising his fingers to touch them or, better still, bending his head to feel them against his own. The fact was, he hadn’t been the same since that kiss they had shared. Even though a couple of days had passed, the memory of it still burned in his head—in his groin.
At the time he had pretended he was doing it to test Harper, to see how she would react. With arousal already stirring in his body he had wanted confirmation that she was feeling it too—at least that was what he’d told himself. But the fact was, the sight of those swollen lips had been impossible to resist, especially when coupled with her heavy-lidded eyes and that sensuous take-me-to-bed body.
That, at least, he had managed to force himself to resist. So far anyway. Harper’s bedroom was at the opposite end of the hotel apartment from his and he had expressly forbidden himself from going anywhere near it. Just the thought of the delights that lay in wait for him on the other side of that door was enough to see him heading for the shower and swinging the dial round to cold.
If anyone had told him that he would be obsessing over this relatively ordinary young Scottish woman he would have told them they were mad. She was not his type, she wasn’t glamorous or sophisticated or worldly. But she was warm and clever and kind. Despite the telling-off he had given her, the compassion she had shown that beggar, the way she had let him pull her into his arms, even though he must have smelled decidedly rank, had touched Vieri. It was typical of her, always thinking of others. Couple that with a natural prettiness and an innate sexiness and you had a special kind of person. Had he just called her ordinary? Who was he trying to kid?
But she was also as stubborn as a mule. Linking his arm through hers once more, he started them walking again. His car was parked only a few streets away. He wasn’t even going to tell her that he’d just decided he was taking her out for lunch. She’d only start kicking up a fuss.
‘So.’ He turned them down a side street. ‘Did you enjoy the antiquities museum?’
‘Yes, I did.’ He felt her relief at the change of subject. ‘There are some amazing works of art in there. It’s hard to believe that some of them date back thousands of years.’
‘Sicily has a very rich history.’
‘But some things never change.’ Following her gaze, he saw she had spotted another beggar on the other side of the street. He groaned inwardly, preparing himself for another lecture. And sure enough it soon came. ‘Doesn’t it bother you?’ She shot him an upward glance. ‘Living a life of such wealth and privilege, when there is still so much poverty all around?’
Vieri drew in an exasperated breath. ‘For your information, I have earned the life that I lead through hard work and determination.’ He had no idea why he felt the need to defend himself, why he should give a toss what this opinionated young woman thought of him. He only knew that he did. ‘And quite apart from that, me living like a pauper is not going to help these guys.’ He gestured across the road. ‘But by continuing to invest in this country I am providing employment and security for families who in turn pay taxes that go towards helping those less fortunate. Plus I am actively involved with a number of charities. Throwing down a handful of coins is not the long-term solution.’
‘Well, no, I suppose not,’ she conceded quietly. ‘But sometimes a short-term solution is better than nothing.’ Their eyes clashed before Harper dragged her gaze away. ‘Oh...’ She looked around her, suddenly realising they had stopped. ‘Is this your car?’
‘It is.’ Opening the door, Vieri gestured to her to get inside. ‘If you would like to get in, I know a nice restaurant not far along the coast. I thought I could buy you lunch before we go and see Alfonso this afternoon. That is, if your socialist principles will allow it, of course.’
Harper hesitated, biting down on her lip. Unless Vieri was very much mistaken she was trying to hide the hint of a smile. Finally she slipped into the passenger seat and turned to face him as he got in beside her, tucking her hair behind her ears. And there it was, the distinct and heart-warming twinkle of mirth dancing in those autumn-coloured eyes.
‘Lunch would be lovely.’ She even reached out to touch his arm, albeit very briefly. ‘Thank you.’
* * *
Through the arched windows of the overheated sitting room, Vieri watched Harper and his godfather in the garden. Bundled up in a thick coat and with a rug across his knees, Alfonso was seated in his wheelchair, Harper slowly pushing him along the neat paths that meandered between flower beds that had more bare earth than flowers at this time of year.
Alfonso had been quite determined that he wanted to go out and get some fresh air, and that it should be Harper, and Harper alone, who was to accompany him. His nurse, Maria, had been told to take some time for herself and Vieri, somewhat unwillingly, left to his own devices.
They had stopped now, Harper coming round to Alfonso’s side, squatting down so that she was level with him. Alfonso was pointing to a bird perched on a holly bush, a goldfinch if Vieri wasn’t mistaken, though he was no expert on ornithology. He was more interested in the way Harper’s hand rested on Alfonso’s knee, the way Alfonso’s own hand went to protectively cover it. The bird flew off and Harper tucked in the scarf around Alfonso’s neck and they smiled at each other before she stood up and went back to pushing the wheelchair.
Vieri frowned. His godfather clearly adored Harper. And she him, if the tender way she fussed over him was anything to go by. Vieri had noticed the way Maria had started to defer to her, obviously happy that Alfonso was in safe hands when Harper was around.
Turning away, he sat himself down on the ancient sofa, drumming his fingers on the cracked leather of the arm as he waited for them to return. It was good that they got on so well, that Alfonso so obviously approved of his choice of ‘fiancée’. But at the same time, it left him with more than a slight sense of unease. Somehow this close friendship they were forming troubled him because of course it was all built on a lie. Somehow it would have been easier if they had remained more emotionally distant from one another, then Vieri wouldn’t have ended up feeling such a fraud. He was starting to realise that he hadn’t thought this thing through at all.
His lunch with Harper had been surprisingly relaxed. Choosing the fresh catch of the day, Harper had ploughed her way through a large platter of seafood with surprising speed, enthusiastically mopping up the juices with hunks of bread. It had been a real delight to see her enjoying her food, although Vieri had been careful to avert his eyes to the twinkling expanse of the Mediterranean Sea when she had finally come up for air, dabbing her mouth with the napkin and declaring it was the nicest meal she had ever had. Even so, he felt a foolish swell of pride that he had finally managed to do something that had made her happy.
A buzz from his phone alerted him to a new email message from Bernie, his head of security. Vieri clicked it open. Rodriguez had been found and was back in New York. But Leah McDonald was no longer with him. Bernie was awaiting further instructions. Vieri narrowed his eyes for a moment, then tapped out his reply.
Leave Rodriguez to me. Find Leah McDonald asap.
He heard a door opening and the sound of Harper and his godfather returning. Harper was laughing at something Alfonso had said and when they appeared in the sitting room she was still smiling, her cheeks flushed from the cold, her hair a mass of untamed curls. She looked...gorgeous. Dragging his gaze away, he was suddenly conscious of Alfonso’s eyes on him, a knowing smile playing about his lips.
‘Let me help you into your chair, padrino.’ For some unknown reason he felt flustered, as if he had been exposed. ‘I do hope you haven’t caught a chill.’
‘Stop fussing, my boy, I am fine. With your fiancée, I have been in the very best hands.’ He smiled at Harper before easing himself into his chair. ‘But I think I will go for a lie-down in a minute. Harper, perhaps you would be so good as to find Maria for me.’
‘Of course.’
As she left the room, Alfonso signalled to Vieri to close the door behind her.
‘Come here, my son. Quickly. I want to talk to you before Harper returns.’
Vieri pulled up a wooden chair and seated himself opposite his godfather.
‘What is it, padrino?’
‘I may be old,’ he started, fixing his godson with a watery stare, ‘but I like to think I am still pretty astute.’
‘Indeed you are.’ Vieri didn’t doubt that for a second.
‘And it is fairly obvious to me that you have rushed ahead with this engagement because you want to make your old godfather happy.’
Vieri inhaled sharply. Was this it? Had they been rumbled? Had Harper been right all along? With Alfonso’s penetrating gaze firmly trained on his face, Vieri decided that if necessary he would come clean, admit that this was all a sham. He wasn’t prepared to dig the hole of this lie any deeper.
‘And I want you to know that you have succeeded.’ His lined face lit up. ‘Harper is a wonderful girl. I am delighted that you have fallen in love with someone so perfect for you.’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘Well...yes, thank you,’ Vieri mumbled quietly.
‘In fact I would go as far as to say you are very lucky to have found her. Young women like Harper are few and far between. Don’t lose her, Vieri.’
‘I’ll try not to.’
But his attempt to be light-hearted was met with a sudden seriousness as Alfonso reached to take hold of his hand.
‘I mean it.’ His eyes glittered. ‘You have to trust me on this one. As someone who probably knows you better than you know yourself, I’m telling you, if you let Harper slip through your fingers you will regret it.’
‘Alfonso—’
‘No, hear me out, figlio. As you know, I never married, never had a family, not because I didn’t want to but because of the terrible vendetta between my family and the Sorrentinos. The vendetta that took the life of my dear brother.’ Alfonso’s voice faltered but with a look of grim determination he carried on. ‘Now I am the very last Calleroni so when I die the name will die with me and the generations of murder can finally cease.’
‘I know this, padrino.’ Vieri’s voice was soft. ‘I have always known.’
‘And you also know that this is the reason that I could never adopt you as my son, much as I wanted to, because I would never burden you with the Calleroni name.’
‘I do, padrino. But to be your godson has been more than honour enough.’
‘And it has been my pleasure. To see the success you have made of your life has been my greatest achievement. Especially...’ He paused and reached for a glass of water by his side to moisten his throat. ‘Especially as there were times, in the early days, when I thought I had lost you.’
‘Never, padrino. I would never have turned my back on you.’
But they both knew the time that Alfonso referred to. That black period in Vieri’s youth when the course of his life could so easily have changed for ever. Or more likely ended—with a bullet through his head.
Vieri had been just eighteen, little more than a kid, when Donatella Sorrentino had deliberately sought out her uncle’s handsome young protégé. At the time she had appeared to Vieri to be the height of sophistication: wealthy, extremely attractive and impossibly glamorous. He had known she was dangerous, but in Vieri’s naive eyes that had only made her all the more alluring.
Some years before, Donatella Calleroni, as she had been then, had done the unthinkable and crossed the divide, forsaking her own family to marry into the Sorrentino dynasty. The fallout between the two warring clans had been predictably catastrophic. In the name of honour but blinded by revenge, her father, Eduardo Calleroni, had retaliated in the only way he knew how—with violence, ending up with him splattered across the tarmac in a hail of bullets. His brother’s death had broken Alfonso’s heart but if Donatella had felt any guilt, any remorse, she never had shown it.
But even knowing all this, to Vieri’s intense shame, he had still fallen under her spell.
In hindsight he could see how he had been groomed. Donatella had taken such an interest in him, buying him clothes, taking him to the theatre, the opera, for meals out in expensive restaurants. By keeping her entertained Vieri was doing her husband a favour, she had insisted, because Frank never did anything but work.
In actual fact Frank Sorrentino had known full well what was going on, to start with at least. One of Sicily’s most notorious gangsters, he had thought it wise to keep tabs on the clever Romano boy who was a son in all but name to Alfonso Calleroni. Donatella had been dispatched to keep a close eye on him. Something she had done all too well.
Before long the idea of them going to bed together had shifted from an erotic fantasy to an inevitability. And Vieri, still a virgin, had wanted it, badly. The thought of Donatella being his first, maybe even his only, had filled his head, consumed his young body, sent his teenage hormones into overdrive. So he had readily agreed to Donatella’s terms that nobody could ever, ever discover their illicit relationship. Despite knowing the possible consequences, they had embarked on a passionate affair.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. Donatella was bored, she told him. He was becoming too possessive, anyway he was far too young for her. It was only ever meant to have been a brief fling. From being a constant presence in his life she abruptly severed all contact.
And Vieri had accepted her decision, respected her wishes. Despite being shocked, bruised, broken-hearted even, for he had genuinely believed himself to be in love with her, he had backed right off, walked away. Done as he was told.
It was only several months later that he had discovered the full, horrifying truth. And such had been his all-consuming rage, his thirst for revenge, that he knew he would have been capable of almost anything. With fire raging in his blood and his contacts in the world of organised crime, the situation could so easily have ended in disaster, destruction, death.
But then Alfonso had stepped in. Without ever discussing anything a position in New York had rapidly been found for him, together with a considerable amount of money to enable him to make a new life for himself. Which of course he had done, becoming a billionaire businessman in under ten years. He had his godfather to thank for his success. But more than that, he had him to thank for his life.
Now he squeezed Alfonso’s hand. ‘You know you mean the world to me, padrino.’
‘I do indeed, mio figlio. Which is why you are going to accept this one piece of advice.’ His voice quavered. ‘Build a family for yourself, Vieri, a wife and children. Don’t live an empty life like mine.’
‘You have not led an empty life, Alfonso! How can you even say that?’
‘It has been empty in here.’ He punched at his bony chest with a frail fist. ‘Inside, where it matters. I had to deliberately end my family line but you, you have the chance to start one. Don’t you see, Vieri, by being an orphan, by having no background, you have a blank canvas? You are free from the shackles that restrained me. Make the most of that opportunity.’
‘What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying it is time to alter the course of your life. Don’t put it off any longer. Take this opportunity to marry your lovely fiancée and settle down.’
‘Alfonso, I—’
‘Set a date, Vieri.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘For the wedding, set a date. And don’t make it too far away. If I am to stand any chance of seeing you two walk down the aisle it will need to be within the next month.’
