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CHAPTER SEVEN

‘OH, MY G—!’

Lara took her eyes off the tree-lined, private road they were driving along—it wasn’t as if they were going to meet any oncoming traffic—to look at her twin sister’s face. She imagined that she had worn a similar look a week earlier when Raoul had brought her for the first time to the family estate—her new home.

It was all deeply surreal.

‘Yeah, it is a bit, isn’t it?’ It wasn’t just the size and sense of history of the golden-stoned palatial house, but the magnificent setting. Cradled by a backdrop of mountains, olive groves covered the gently sloping hills to the west and a river wound its way like a silver ribbon to the north with the palazzo like a jewel in the centre.

‘It looks like an illustration in a fairy tale, you know, not quite real, a bit like you getting married to someone you’ve only just met...?’

Lara focused on the road ahead, not reacting to the unspoken question. ‘Oh, there’s Mum.’ She nodded towards a plume of dust. ‘We’ve almost caught them up.’

‘It is incredibly beautiful, but don’t you feel isolated here?’

The emphasis was not lost on Lara. She supposed it was her own fault. She had kind of played up how great the social side was when she had moved to the city for her job, but it was better than admitting that for the first six months she’d been terribly homesick.

‘Without a night club within stumbling distance, you mean. I guess I’ll just have to make my own entertainment, like in the olden days,’ she mocked. ‘I grew up in the country too, remember, only here there isn’t a bus at the end of the lane, there’s a helicopter.’

‘And you have this.’ Lily patted the deep leather upholstery of her seat.

Lara thought of all the cars in the garage that Raoul had given her the key code to on the first day, telling her she had her pick but warning her that the roads took some getting used to.

Up until now she had driven a 4x4 but this morning she had picked out the sleek sports car to pick up her mum and sister from the helicopter strip. Now she was regretting the impulse that might appear like showing off to Lily. In the end, when she’d arrived, Raoul’s grandfather Sergio was already there with the limo.

‘It is only good manners to meet your family,’ he had reproached when Lara, already concerned that the hastily arranged marriage was going to exhaust him, had said he shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.

Her mother had been delighted to be driven to the house in the style to which she laughingly said she could easily become accustomed, but Lily had opted to go back with Lara.

Lara was glad it was a short drive. Lily had started in with the questions straight off, and Lara had avoided giving direct answers, then launched into a running commentary of the history of the house and estate. What she couldn’t remember she made up, which, keeping in mind it was her inability to lie convincingly that had got her this gig, she felt she was doing rather well at.

If only Raoul were here to see her, she mused grimly, but he had flown off to Paris early that morning and wasn’t expected back until tomorrow morning, barely an hour before the wedding.

He’d laughed when she’d accused him of avoiding her family but he hadn’t denied it.

Wrapping a sheet around her, she had followed him out onto the balcony of their bedroom where he was taking his coffee. ‘Even if Mum swallows this, Lily will know I’m lying. She’ll definitely smell a rat. She knows even I wouldn’t be insane enough to marry someone I’ve only just met.’

‘Even I?’

‘Lily is the sensible twin.’

He’d stood there with a look on his face that she had struggled to interpret. ‘Sensible?’

‘She wouldn’t have agreed to this...and, no, you wouldn’t have asked her.’

The odd look had come back, along with a smile. ‘Then it is lucky for me I met the non-sensible twin. Relax, you do not have to prove anything to anyone, but if in trouble adopt the fall-back position.’

‘What’s the fall-back position?’

‘Love is crazy, and we are deeply in love, cara.’

She’d tried to laugh but suddenly all she had wanted to do was cry.

She’d felt his eyes on her face as the silence had stretched. ‘Try and relax. No one is going to question our motivation for getting married. Why would they? I suppose a few might wonder if the haste means that you are already pregnant.’

The possibility had not occurred to Lara, who had reacted with a moan. ‘Oh, no!’

He’d seemed bemused by her reaction. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘You don’t have a problem with people thinking I’m pregnant?’

‘Fictional pregnancies I can deal with. Now, a real one...’

His expression had left no doubt as to what his reaction to that circumstance would be. Not that it was going to happen—he was meticulously careful in that way.

‘I really don’t think I can pull it off, Raoul.’ She hadn’t been able to keep the panic from her voice.

‘Of course you can.’

The irritation in his voice had been reflected in his face as he’d lifted his eyes from the tablet his glance had drifted to.

‘I wasn’t expecting anything like this place.’ She’d waved a hand to encompass the view, the room, and everything that went with it. ‘I won’t be able to keep up the act.’

‘Nobody expects you to. It’s not as if you’re going to be on show twenty-four-seven. You’ll be living here. There are no cameras.’

‘Oh, and there’s nothing whatever daunting about that, and actually there are cameras.’

‘Security cameras are there to protect you, not intrude.’

‘Easy for you to say—you were brought up in a goldfish bowl.’ She’d pressed a hand to her head and groaned out. ‘This was a crazy idea.’

‘Anyway, I doubt I’ll be here more than one or two days a week.’

Her hand had fallen away.

‘Did you think we were going to spend the next months joined at the hip?’

‘Of course not!’ she’d lied, trying hard not to examine the ambivalence of her reaction. ‘Won’t people think it odd...?’ she had countered, keeping her voice light. ‘Married couples usually—’

‘Have a honeymoon, make babies...?’ The mockery in his voice had morphed into a steely hardness as he’d spelt it out. ‘This is not meant to be a real marriage.’

‘How sweet of you to explain that to me.’ Her glance had touched significantly on the sealed envelope that contained her copy of the prenup agreement that had been signed and witnessed the previous night.

He’d followed the direction of her gaze. ‘You really should get a lawyer to look through those, you know.’

‘I thought you were a lawyer.’ Yet something else she hadn’t known at the outset.

‘I think they call it a conflict of interest.’

She’d shrugged. ‘Why? Are you trying to cheat me?’

He hadn’t smiled.

‘Talking of cheating...if you want this to work it might be an idea if you’re discreet...things like that might get back to your grandfather.’

‘You are giving me permission to be unfaithful.’

Lara had felt her blush deepen under his sardonic stare. ‘Oh, I know you don’t need my permission.’

‘You think after last night...’ his dark glance had swivelled to the rumpled bed ‘...that I’d have the energy for other women? I will be working a twenty-hour day...jealousy is not part of your duties.’

Playing it again now, she could see how he had misinterpreted her comments, but at the time she had been utterly taken by surprise.

‘Jealous...! I am not jealous!’ Then, in response to the voice in her head saying she was protesting too much, she had managed a less emotional, ‘It’s just the responsibility of your grandfather when you’re not here falls on me.’

She had been massively relieved to see some of the suspicion clear from his eyes.

‘You will always be able to contact me; if he needs me I will be here, and later, when his condition worsens, obviously I will travel less.’ He had paused and delivered a hard, level look at her lightly flushed face that Lara knew she would never forget. ‘Don’t fall in love with me, cara.’

Even thinking about the warning made her skin burn with remembered embarrassment. Fall in love with him! She didn’t even like him!

Lara shoved aside the memory of her response to Raoul, as beside her Lily continued to ask questions.

‘So what sort of man is he?’

‘He’s the sort of man who would drag a woman off a flight to propose.’ It was an inspired lie and, like all the best, had a basis in truth.

Lily’s eyes widened. ‘Seriously? He did that?’

Lara nodded.

‘Wow, that is romantic.’

‘Raoul is extremely romantic,’ Lara lied cheerfully, before going on to invent several incredibly romantic gestures he had made. ‘Here we are.’ She released a sigh of relief as they drove through the last set of massive wrought-iron gates that closed silently behind them and pulled her car up beside the shiny limo that had preceded them. The massive main entrance door of the palazzo stood wide open, and presumably her mother and Sergio were already inside.

Lara got out of the car and waited for her twin, who came to stand beside her. The half an inch or so height advantage she had over her sister was cancelled out by the heels that Lily was wearing this morning.

Their tastes in fashion had always been different and today that difference was particularly apparent. Lily’s floaty, flowered skirt fluttered around her calves, the top button of her simple sleeveless shirt was unfastened and her hair hung down her back in a shiny fat braid.

Lara wore a new acquisition, part of the wardrobe that Raoul had insisted she needed: a miniskirt in bold stripes of purple and lime green. Her silk top was sleeveless too but was cut low enough to show the upper slopes of her breasts and glimpses of her lacy bra. Her flatties were soft turquoise leather ballet pumps and on the way out she’d slid a haphazard selection of bangles on her arm, which jingled as she pushed her loose hair from her face.

She watched her twin as Lily tilted her head back to take in the full impact of the building. ‘I suppose anyone would want to live here.’

Lara’s expression froze over. ‘I hadn’t seen the place when I agreed to marry Raoul and once you’ve met him you’ll realise that his bank balance isn’t the attraction.’

‘I didn’t mean...’

Lara ignored the horrified stuttered denial. ‘There would be a queue around the corner for him if he only had the clothes he stands up in!’

Her sister touched her arm and handed her a tissue—Lara hadn’t even known her eyes were leaking moisture... What was that about?

‘I wasn’t suggesting that you’re a—’

‘Gold-digger? No, really? Well, call me sensitive but...?’ She had gone several steps before she took a deep breath and calmed down. Sensitive, yes. She recognised her reaction had been irrational but when hurt, her natural response was to hit out and she had. She wasn’t even sure why the suggestion had hurt her so much.

‘You love him very much, don’t you?’

The soft suggestion made Lara spin around. ‘I—’ She stopped herself just in time from informing her twin that Raoul was exactly the sort of man she never wanted to fall in love with, and somehow managed a smile she hoped was sincere and maybe a little soppy.

‘Yes, totally,’ she lied, pitying the woman who fell for a man who seemed to be in love with a ghost.

One of her first conversations with Sergio had confirmed her earlier suspicions.

‘I am so glad he has someone. After Lucy died he became...a shadow. Not all of him was here, the spark had gone, but you have brought it back for him.’

‘I’ve never seen any photos of...her?’

With the aid of the cane he had taken to using he had got up, walked over to a bureau and opened a drawer. He had pulled out a gilt-framed photo and with a sigh of regret handed it to Lara.

‘Raoul took all the photos down after she died, couldn’t bear to see her face, I imagine. I don’t know what he did with them but I kept this one. He doesn’t know I have it.’

Lara had looked at the woman smiling out from the frame. The photo had been taken in the palazzo—she’d recognised the fresco from one of the first-floor salons. The way the light fell made it seem as though she were part of the Renaissance scene behind her, and there was a something of the angel about her, the silky golden blonde bob, the cupid’s bow mouth painted red and her smooth, pink-tinged cheeks.

‘She was beautiful.’

Evicting the angelic image from her head, she swallowed a slug of guilt when her twin hugged her.

‘Then that’s all that matters, isn’t it? I just hope this guy is good enough for you, Lara.’

* * *

Her twin had made up her mind on that score before she even met Raoul.

‘What,’ Lily demanded as she paced the room, clutching her bouquet of wilting flowers in a white-knuckle death grip, ‘could be more important than being on time for his own wedding?’

‘He’ll be here.’

It was weird, but the more tense and angry her twin got, the calmer Lara became. Another time she might have appreciated the humour in the reversal of roles but not today. She was sure the stage nerves would kick in at some point, but not yet.

Maybe she wasn’t nervous yet because it simply didn’t seem real. The entire event had taken on the quality of a lavish film production. From the setting in the palazzo, a backdrop more glamorous and lavish than any film set, to the sharp-intake-of-breath guest list. It was an understatement to say that the Di Vittorios were well connected!

‘Lily, dear, will you sit down?’ Elizabeth Gray, looking too young to be anyone’s mother, caught her daughter’s arm just as the door opened to reveal the head of Security.

‘Buongiorno.’

‘He’s arrived?’

‘Signor Di Vittorio landed five minutes ago. He sends his apologies for any delay—apparently there was a bomb threat at the airport. Don’t worry, it was just a hoax. He says the ceremony can begin when you are ready.’

‘Grazie, Marco.’

‘Signorina.’

‘Is that man carrying a gun?’ Lily asked when the door closed.

‘Probably.’ It wasn’t until she saw her sister’s expression that she realised how quickly the abnormal had become normal for her. What would normal life feel like when she returned to it? She closed off the thought, determined not to think that far ahead. She was committed now and there was no turning back. ‘The security staff are not normally armed while Sergio is on the estate but with the guests here today...’

‘Sergio apologised for it being a modest affair,’ Elizabeth confided.

The twins both looked first at their mother and then each other before they all simultaneously burst into laughter.

The very modest affair was to begin with a service in the fifteenth-century chapel, while the wedding breakfast that followed was in the grand salon with priceless frescoes on the walls and views of the Tuscan hills. The doors had been flung open to allow the guests to mingle outside in the knot garden, where an orchestra entertained the guests.

‘So that’s it, then...’ She gave her mum a tremulous smile and felt guilty when her mum’s eyes filled with tears. Lara knew there would be another sort of tears six months down the line when the fairy tale ended.

‘You look absolutely incredible, darling.’

Lara smiled and glanced down at the dress she wore, smoothing the ivory silk with her hand. ‘It is beautiful.’

It was possibly the simplest of the creations that had been brought for her to choose between. Lara had expected there to be a few, but when she had walked into the room she had found racks and racks of amazing gowns, none bearing anything as tasteless as a price tag.

‘No, my darling, you’re beautiful.’ Elizabeth pressed a hand to her trembling lips.

Lara smiled and thought of the face of an angel...an angel with blonde hair and red lips. Whose face would Raoul see when she walked towards him down the aisle: hers or his dead wife’s? Did he close his eyes and think of Lucy when they made love?

The image in her own head leeched the colour from her cheeks until she stood there several shades paler than her dress.

She started as Lily leaned in and said softly, ‘You can walk away now if you want to. It’s not too late.’

Lara squeezed her hand, wishing she could tell her twin the truth. Would Lily understand? ‘I’m fine, Lil.’ Then turning to her mum, she held out her hand. ‘Ready to give your daughter away? And with these around my neck...’ she touched the string of matching antique emeralds that Sergio had presented her with ‘...nobody is going to be looking at me.’

And after the ceremony the emeralds would be safely back in the family vault along with the other Di Vittorio heirlooms.

It made her nervous to be walking around with the national budget of a small country around her neck, even for a short time. But there had been no question of throwing Sergio’s gesture back in his face.

Infected by his mood, she had responded by asking him if he’d walk her up the aisle along with her mother. It wasn’t until after he’d accepted with obvious delight that it had occurred to her it might not be the wisest idea. After a week here she knew that Sergio had good days when it was difficult to believe how ill he was, but he had bad days too.

The chapel was the opposite side of the palazzo from the suite of rooms where they had changed, separated by miles of marble-floored corridors, which today were lined with flowers and row after row of crystal vases, so many that the scent of orange blossom filled the air. She was aware of the occasional grim-looking suited figure as she walked along, smiling when she caught sight of one of the staff peering out from behind a door or around a corner to catch a glimpse of her.

Nothing about this could be less like the quiet wedding in a register office somewhere that she had imagined when she’d agreed to the plan. Not that it mattered really, the setting didn’t alter the thing, and no amount of pragmatism could alter the fact that she was making sacred vows and she didn’t mean a word.

Sergio stood waiting outside and smiled when he saw her.

‘My grandson is a lucky man.’

Just when she thought she couldn’t feel any more guilty.

‘Thank you.’ Lara laid her hand on the arm he held out just as the massive metal-banded doors swung open and a sea of faces appeared. Beside her she heard her twin gasp.

‘It’s Hollywood meets the United Nations! Oh, my God, is that...? Lara, there’s royalty here...!’

‘I know,’ Lara gritted through a clenched smile.

Ironically it wasn’t royalty that was bothering her—it was the less tangible presence of Raoul’s first wife. How many of the people here today had watched when Raoul had exchanged vows with Lucy?

She gave herself a mental shake. It really didn’t matter if there were people here comparing her unfavourably with the blonde angel—for some weird reason she couldn’t see the woman’s face without seeing a halo—what mattered was getting through this without being outed as a total fake.

The trick was just taking one step at a time.

As she began to move down the aisle, outwardly serene, inwardly she was panicking because two steps in it had become clear that this was not one of Sergio’s good days. She could feel the tremors that moved through his body and the fingers that gripped her arm dug deep enough to make her bite her lip.

Now she wasn’t worried about getting to the altar without falling flat on her face, she was worried Sergio wouldn’t make the short distance without collapsing. She continued to smile, determined that the people watching would see her leaning on him and not the reverse.

Lara knew that for this proud old aristocrat to appear weak in front of these people would be devastating for him, and Raoul would blame her, and he’d be right to. She should never have made the offer.

* * *

Raoul stood there knowing before the organ burst into life that the reverent hush was for his bride.

It was a moment he had sworn would never happen again. The last time was enough for ten lifetimes and the poison it had left behind had burnt into his soul.

He took comfort in the fact that he would not fall in love this time—that this time his emotions were not involved. He’d fully expected to feel trapped at this juncture, he’d been prepared to feel it, but the emotion that separated itself out from the others was...actually, he couldn’t name the feeling that tightened in his chest.

The circumstances ruled out pride, not that it was an unpleasant feeling to know you were the envy of every man in the room. She was beautiful. She was about to become his wife.

For six months anyway. The thought was chased up by a vague sense of dissatisfaction, but before he could analyse it he realised that, though she was acting her head off, looking at him as though he were the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, all was not well with Lara.

For a split second he thought she was on the brink of doing a runner, then he realised what message her eyes were flashing as she turned her head slightly towards his grandfather.

Raoul stood ready to step in should he need to, right up to the point that Lara helped Sergio into his seat.

Lara felt as if she’d been holding her breath the entire length of the aisle. It wasn’t until Sergio and her mother safely took their places in the front pew and she handed her bouquet to Lily that she could actually breathe properly.

She allowed herself a small congratulatory smile before she turned to face Raoul.

Their eyes connected and the lie hit her hard. The look in his eyes, the promises they were about to make. She felt the tears swim into her eyes and wished she’d opted for a veil.

The ceremony itself went by in a blur of emotion. She could remember Raoul’s responses, his deep, clear voice, but not her own. Presumably she had made her vows because Raoul was bending his head for the first kiss, brushing his lips across hers and not acting surprised when she whispered the unromantic message against his mouth.

‘It’s your grandfather—I don’t think he’s well.’

His eyes held understanding but he just nodded as, hand in hand, they moved on to the legal part of signatures and witnesses.

At some point she saw Sergio leaving through a side door, his shrunken frame looking frail between two bodyguards.

She could feel Raoul’s impatience as they stood welcoming their glittering guests, and by the time they reached the end of the line her hand was aching and she was way beyond awed and star-struck.

Once they were seated, Raoul got to his feet and the place fell silent, all eyes on the tall, commanding figure.

‘I wish to thank all my friends and family for being here today, and most of all, naturally, my beautiful bride...’ He paused for the ripple of applause. ‘However, as you have probably already noticed, one person is not with us. Our host today, my grandfather, is feeling unwell, so I will leave you for a moment in Lara’s capable hands. Please enjoy yourselves.’

Lara watched him leave, noticing him pause to say something in the ear of a striking-looking brunette on the way out.

The woman nodded, then approached Lara with a friendly smile.

‘Tell me, Lara, do you ride?’

She took a deep breath and thought, And now I start earning my severance cheque. ‘I love horses, it’s just heights I have a problem with. My sister and I did used to help out at stables near where we were brought up—the place is run by a charity that helps children with disabilities get an opportunity to ride.’

* * *

‘I’m sorry.’ It was close on nine when Raoul came to sit on the bed where Lara was wearing a pair of silky pale green shortie pyjamas.

She looked up when he spoke and shook her head. ‘What for?’

‘For walking out on the wedding reception...’

‘How is he?’

She had got the message that Sergio’s doctor had insisted that he go to the hospital to get checked over.

‘They’re keeping him overnight. They seem to think that there hasn’t been any deterioration. It’s his drug regime that’s the problem.’ He rotated his neck to ease the tension that had climbed into his shoulders.

Lara pulled herself up onto her knees and shuffled across the bed until she was in a position to slide her hands under the neck of his shirt. His muscles were like iron. ‘Wow, you really have some knots there.’

Raoul grunted as her fingers dug into muscles. ‘So how was it after I left?’ He had felt guilty as hell leaving her to cope alone. Talk about throwing her in at the deep end!

‘Oh, people were happy and there was plenty of booze. Actually, I left early myself.’ Lily, who was at drama college, had a screen test for a TV show the next day, so she and her mum hadn’t stayed late. Once they’d gone, Lara hadn’t known a soul and Naomi, the woman Raoul had spoken to, who had introduced herself as a family friend, had assured her that she wouldn’t be missed.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll deputise,’ she had promised as Lara had slipped away.

Raoul’s silence made her wonder whether leaving early wasn’t a bigger thing than the other woman had suggested.

‘Did I do wrong? Naomi said she’d—’

‘Oh, I’m sure it was fine.’

‘Her husband is in a wheelchair?’

‘She was one of Lucy’s friends.’ Actually the only one he still had any contact with. ‘And Leo has MS. She’s devoted and he’s not an easy man. Ouch!’

She dug her teeth into her bottom lip. ‘Sorry, got carried away,’ she admitted guiltily.

He reached out and pushed his fingers into her hair. ‘You make it sound as though that is a bad thing?’

His tone was light but the glow in his dark eyes was anything but. ‘You looked beautiful today.’ It was rare for his accent to surface; it only happened in moments of passion. ‘I’m sorry the day was ruined.’

‘There’s nothing to ruin. After all, it’s all make-believe, smoke and mirrors.’

‘Well, you played your part well.’

‘Did I? I don’t really remember. I was just scared that Sergio was going to collapse, and this is all about Sergio.’

Recognising this didn’t mean that she hadn’t wondered a little about how it might feel if this were happening for real...oh, not with Raoul, obviously. When and if she ever married again she knew it would not be a man like Raoul.

Even without the perfect-dead-wife thing there was the fact that he was the sort of man who could have any woman he wanted. She pushed away the thought—trusting him to say no was not her problem.

‘Yes...but here, now, it is all about us...’ His voice was a throaty caress as he leaned in until their lips were almost touching, then with slow deliberation skimmed his tongue across her mouth, tracing the full outline.

Lara was breathless, capable of nothing but gazing at him, the longing that infiltrated every cell of her body shining in her eyes.

‘I’m going to be gone most of the week.’

She ignored the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. ‘What will your grandfather think?’ No honeymoon was one thing, but the groom leaving his bride alone the day after the wedding...?

‘No problem, he understands.’ He had understood better than Raoul the massive task it was going to be to bring his knowledge up to a level where he could take the helm of the family businesses.

That makes one of us, Lara thought, stifling a stab of irrational resentment.

‘Oh, that’s all right, then.’

Hard not to contrast her calm acceptance with the reaction of a real wife. Right now he’d be being made to feel as guilty as hell—a marriage based on sex and a contract definitely had its plus points.

‘Feel like being carried away?’

Lara curled her hand around his neck immediately, totally caught up again in the burning need of the moment. ‘Oh, yes, please.’

The next morning she woke at around six feeling groggy on the couple of hours’ sleep she’d snatched between lovemaking. The space beside her in the bed was empty, but on the bedside table stood a note, her name on it in bold, slanting lettering.

Unfolding it, she read it.

Meeting in Geneva at noon. Calling in on the old man on the way. Any problems arise let me know. If not should be back Fri p.m.

It was signed with a flourish—but no love.