Читать книгу Her Exquisite Surrender - Lucy Ellis - Страница 9

‘CONGRATULATIONS,’ said Linda, Natalie’s assistant, the following morning when she arrived at work.

‘Pardon?’

Linda held up a newspaper. ‘Talk about keeping your cards close to your chest,’ she said. ‘I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.’

‘I’m …’ Natalie took the paper and quickly scanned it. There was a short paragraph about Angelo and her and their upcoming nuptials. Angelo was quoted as saying he was thrilled they were back together and how much he was looking forward to being married next week.

‘Is it true or is it a prank?’ Linda asked.

Natalie put the paper down on the counter. ‘It’s true,’ she said, chewing at her bottom lip.

‘Pardon me if I’m overstepping the mark here, but you don’t look too happy about it,’ Linda said.

Natalie forced a smile to her face. ‘Sorry, it’s just been such a pain … er … keeping it quiet until now,’ she said, improvising as she went. ‘We didn’t want anyone to speculate about us getting back together until we were sure it was what we both wanted.’

‘Gosh, how romantic!’ Linda said. ‘A secret relationship.’

‘Not so secret now,’ Natalie said a little ruefully as her stomach tied itself in knots. How was she going to cope with the constant press attention? They would swarm about her like bees. Angelo was used to being chased by the paparazzi. He was used to cameras flashing in his face and articles being written that were neither true nor false but somewhere in between.

She liked her privacy. She guarded it fiercely. Now she would be thrust into the public arena not for her designs and her talent but for whom she was sleeping with.

Her stomach gave another little shuffle. Not that she would be actually sleeping with Angelo. She was determined not to give in to that particular temptation. Her body might still have some sort of programmed response to him, but that didn’t mean she had to give in to it.

She could be strong.

She would be strong.

And determined.

He wouldn’t find her so easy to seduce this time around. She had been young and relatively inexperienced five years ago. She was older and wiser now. She hadn’t fallen in love with him before and she wasn’t about to fall in love with him now. He would be glad to call an end to their marriage before a month or two. She couldn’t see him tolerating her intransigence for very long. He was used to getting his own way. He wanted a submissive, I’ll-do-anything-to-please-you wife.

There wasn’t a bone in Natalie’s body that would bend to any man’s will, and certainly not to Angelo Bellandini’s.

‘These came for you while you were at the lawyer’s,’ Linda said when Natalie came back to the studio a couple of hours later.

Natalie looked at the massive bunch of blood-red roses elegantly wrapped and ribboned, their intoxicating clove-like perfume filling the air.

‘Aren’t you going to read the card?’ Linda asked.

‘Er … yes,’ Natalie said unpinning the envelope from the cellophane and tissue wrap. She took the card out and read: See you tonight, Angelo.

‘From Angelo?’ Linda asked.

‘Yes,’ Natalie said, frowning.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

‘You’re frowning.’

She quickly relaxed her features. ‘I’ve got a few things to see to in my office at home. Do you mind holding the fort here for the rest of the day?’

‘Not at all,’ Linda said. ‘I guess you’ll have to leave me in charge when you go on your honeymoon, right?’

Natalie gave her a tight on-off smile as she grabbed her bag and put the strap over her shoulder. ‘I don’t think I’ll be away very long,’ she said.

‘Aren’t you going to take the roses with you?’ Linda asked.

Natalie turned back and scooped them up off the counter. ‘Good idea,’ she said, and left.

Angelo looked at the three-storey house in a leafy street in the well-to-do Edinburgh suburb of Morningside. It had a gracious elegance about it that reminded him of Natalie immediately. Even the garden seemed to reflect parts of her personality. The neatly clipped hedges and the meticulous attention to detail in plants and their colour and placement bore witness to a young woman who liked order and control.

He smiled to himself as he thought how annoyed she would be at the way things were now out of her control. He had the upper hand and he was going to keep it. He would enjoy watching her squirm. He had five years of bitterness to avenge. Five years of hating her, five years of wanting her, five years of being tortured by memories of her body in his arms.

Five years of trying to replace her.

He put his finger to the highly polished brass doorbell. A chime-like sound rang out, and within a few seconds he heard the click-clack of her heels as she came to answer its summons. He could tell she was angry. He braced himself for the blast.

‘How dare you release something to the press without checking with me first?’ she said as her opening gambit.

‘Hello, cara,’ he said. ‘I’m fine, thank you. And you?’

She glowered at him as she all but slammed the door once he had stepped over its threshold. ‘You had no right to say anything to anyone,’ she said. ‘I was followed home by paparazzi. I had cameras going off in my face as soon as I left my studio. I almost got my teeth knocked out by one of their microphones.’

‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘I’m so used to it I hardly notice it any more. Do you want me to get you a bodyguard? I should’ve thought of it earlier.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course I don’t want a bloody bodyguard!’ she said. ‘I just want this to go away. I want all of this to go away.’

‘It’s not going to go away, Natalie,’ he said. ‘I’m not going to go away.’

She continued to glare at him. ‘Why are you here?’

‘I’m here to take you out to dinner.’

‘What if I’m not hungry?’

‘Then you can sit and watch me eat,’ he said. ‘Won’t that be fun?’

‘You are totally sick—do you know that?’ she said.

‘Did you like the roses?’

She turned away from him and began stalking down the wide corridor. ‘I hate hothouse flowers,’ she said. ‘They have no scent.’

‘I didn’t buy you hothouse flowers,’ he said. ‘I had those roses shipped in from a private gardener.’

She gave a dismissive grunt and pushed open a door leading to a large formal sitting room. Again the attention to detail was stunning. Beautifully co-ordinated colours and luxurious fabrics, plush sofas and crystal chandeliers. Timeless antiques cleverly teamed with modern pieces—old-world charm and modern chic that somehow worked together brilliantly.

‘Do you want a drink?’ she asked uncharitably.

‘What are you having?’

She threw him a speaking glance. ‘I was thinking along the lines of cyanide,’ she said.

He laughed. ‘Not quite to my taste, mia piccola,’ he said. ‘Can I have a soda and lime?’

She went to a bar fridge that was hidden behind an art deco cabinet. He heard the rattle of ice cubes and the fizz of the soda water and then the plop of a slice of lime. She fixed her own glass of white wine before she turned and passed his drink to him with a combative look on her face.

‘I hope it chokes you,’ she said.

He lifted the glass against hers in a salute and said, ‘To a long and happy marriage.’

Her gaze wrestled with his. ‘I’m not drinking to that.’

‘What will you drink to?’

She clanged her glass against his. ‘To freedom,’ she said, and took a sip.

Angelo watched her as she moved across the room, her body movements stiff and unfriendly. She took another couple of sips of her drink, grimacing distastefully as if she wasn’t used to drinking alcohol. ‘I drove past your studio on the way here,’ he said. ‘Very impressive.’

She gave him a quick off-hand glance over her shoulder. ‘Thank you.’

‘I have a project for you, if you’re interested,’ he said.

She turned and looked at him fully. ‘What sort of project?’

‘A big one,’ he said. ‘It’s worth a lot of money. Good exposure for you, too. It will bring you contacts from all over Europe.’

She stood very still before him, barely moving a muscle apart from the little hammer beat of tension at the base of her throat. ‘Go on,’ she said, with that same look of wariness in her gaze.

‘I have a holiday villa in Sorrento, on the Amalfi Coast,’ he said. ‘I bought another property nearby for a song a few months back. I’m turning it into a luxury hotel. I’m just about done with the structural repairs. Now it’s time for the interior makeover. I thought it would be a good project for you to take on once we are married.’

‘Why do you want me to do it?’ she asked.

‘You’re good at what you do,’ he said.

Her mouth thinned in cynicism. ‘And you want a carrot to dangle in front of me in case I happen to find a last-minute escape route?’

‘You won’t find an escape route,’ he said. ‘If you’re a good girl I might even consider using your linen exclusively in all of my hotels. But only if you behave yourself.’

The look she gave him glittered with hatred. ‘You’ve certainly got blackmail down to a science,’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise you were this ruthless five years ago.’

‘I wasn’t,’ he said, taking another leisurely sip of his drink.

She tightened her mouth. ‘I’ll have to think about it,’ she said. ‘I have a lot of work on just now.’

‘How capable is your assistant?’ Angelo asked.

‘Very capable,’ she said. ‘I’m thinking of promoting her. I need someone to handle the international end of things.’

‘It must be quite limiting, not being able to do the travelling yourself,’ he said.

She lifted a shoulder in a dismissive manner. ‘I manage.’

Angelo picked up a small photo frame from an intricately carved drum table next to where he was standing. ‘Is this Lachlan as a toddler?’ he asked.

Her deep blue gaze flickered with something as she glanced at the photo. ‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s not.’

Angelo put the frame back on the table and, pushing back his sleeve, glanced at his watch. ‘We should get going,’ he said. ‘I’ve booked the restaurant for eight.’

‘I told you I’m not having dinner with you,’ she said.

‘And I told you to behave yourself,’ he tossed back. ‘You will join me for dinner and you will look happy about it. I don’t care how you act in private, but in public you will at all times act like a young woman who is deeply in love. If you put even one toe of one foot out of line your brother will pay the price.’

She glared at him, her whole body bristling with anger. ‘I’ve never been in love before, so how am I going to pull that act off with any authenticity?’ she asked.

Angelo gave her a steely look. ‘Make it up as you go along,’ he said, and put his glass down with a dull thud next to the photo frame. ‘I’ll be waiting outside in the car.’

Natalie waited until he had left the room before she picked up his glass. She mopped up the circle of condensation left on the leather top of the table with the heel of her hand and then wiped her hand against her churning stomach.

Her eyes went to the photo of Liam. He was standing on the beach with a bucket and spade in his dimpled hands, his cherubic face smiling for the camera. It had been taken just hours before he died. She remembered how excited he had been about the shells he had found. She remembered the sandcastle they had built together. She remembered how they had come back to the pool with their parents to rinse off. She remembered how her mother had gone inside for a rest and her father had left her with Liam while he made an important phone call …

She gently straightened the photo frame with fingers that were not quite steady. And then, with a sigh that burned like a serrated knife inside her chest, she went to get ready for dinner.

The restaurant Angelo had booked was a popular one that attracted the rich and the famous. Natalie had been a couple of times before, but no one had taken much notice of her. This time everyone looked and pointed as she came into the restaurant under Angelo’s escort. A couple of people even took photos with their phones.

She tried to ignore the feel of his hand at her back. It was barely touching her but it felt like a brand. She could feel the tensile strength of him in that feather-light touch. It was a heady reminder of the sensual power he had over her.

Still had over her.

The maître d’ led them to a table and then bustled off to fetch drinks after he had handed them both menus.

She buried her head in the menu even though she had no appetite. The words were just a blur in front of her. She blinked and tried to focus. A week ago she wouldn’t have dreamed it possible for her to be sitting with Angelo in a restaurant. Ever since their break-up she had kept her distance both physically and mentally. But now she was back in his world and she wasn’t sure how she was going to get out of it. How long would their marriage last, given the irreconcilable differences between them? He had loved her once, but he certainly wasn’t motivated by love now. Revenge was his goal.

It had taken five years for the planets to align in his favour, but Lachlan had provided the perfect set-up for him to make her pay for leaving him. A man as proud and powerful as he was would not be satisfied until he had settled the score. How long would he insist on her staying with him? He surely wouldn’t tie himself indefinitely to a loveless marriage. He was an only child. He was thirty-three years old—almost thirty-four. He would want children in the not too distant future. He would hardly want her to be the mother of his heirs. He would want someone biddable and obedient. Someone who would grace his many homes with poise and grace. Someone who wouldn’t argue with him or question his opinions. Someone who would love him without reservation.

‘Are you still a strict vegetarian?’ Angelo asked.

Natalie looked at him over the top of the menu. ‘I occasionally eat chicken and fish,’ she confessed a little sheepishly.

His dark brows lifted. ‘You were so passionate back then.’

She lowered her gaze to the menu again. ‘Yes, well, I was young and full of ideals back then. I’ve realised since that life is not so black and white.’

‘What else have you changed your mind about?’ he asked.

She put the menu to one side. ‘I haven’t changed that much,’ she said.

‘Meaning you still don’t want children?’

Natalie felt the all too familiar pain seize her. She thought of Isabel’s little newborn daughter Imogen, of how it had felt to hold her in her arms just a couple of weeks ago—the soft sweet smell, the tiny little starfish hands that had gripped hers so firmly. It had brought guilt down on her like a guillotine.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I haven’t changed my mind about that.’

‘So you’re still the high-powered career girl?’ he said.

She picked up her glass and raised it in a salute. ‘That’s me.’

His dark brown eyes kept holding hers. ‘What about when you’re older?’ he asked. ‘You’re young now, but what about when your biological clock starts to ramp up its ticking?’

‘Not every woman is cut out to be a mother,’ she said. ‘I’m not good with kids. I think I must have missed out on the maternal gene.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ he said. ‘I accept that there are some women who genuinely don’t want to have children, but you’re a born nurturer. Look at the way you’re prepared to put your neck on the line for your brother.’

She gave a careless shrug. ‘I hate the thought of ruining my figure,’ she said. ‘I don’t want stretch marks or sagging boobs.’

He made a sound at the back of his throat. ‘For God’s sake, Natalie, surely you’re not that shallow?’

She met his gaze levelly. ‘No, but I’m convinced some of your recent lovers have been.’

He gave her a glinting smile. ‘So you’ve been keeping track of me over the years, have you, cara?’ he asked.

‘Not at all,’ she said, looking away again. ‘It is of no interest to me whatsoever who you sleep with. I have no hold over you. We dated. We broke up. That’s it as far as I’m concerned.’

‘We didn’t just date,’ he said. ‘We lived together for five and a half months.’

Natalie picked up her drink, just for something to do with her hands. ‘I only moved in with you because my flatmate’s boyfriend moved in with us and made me feel I was in the way,’ she said. ‘Anyway, five months is not a long time compared to some relationships.’

‘It was a long time for me.’

‘Only because you’ve been playing musical beds since you were a teenager,’ she said.

‘Now who’s talking?’ he asked, with a diamond-hard glitter in his gaze as it clashed with hers.

Natalie wasn’t ashamed of her past, but she wasn’t proud of it either. While not exactly a constant bed-hopper, like some of her peers, she had occasionally used sex as a way to bolster her self-esteem. But the physical sensations had meant nothing to her until she had met Angelo. Not that she had ever told him. While she had been totally open with him physically, emotionally she had always held him slightly distant. She wondered if that was why he had found her so attractive. He was used to women falling head over heels in love with him and telling him so right from the start.

But she had not.

‘Careful, Angelo,’ she said. ‘Your double standards are showing.’

His jaw tensed as he held her look. ‘How long did you date the guy you replaced me with?’ he asked.

‘Not long,’ she said.

‘How long?’

‘Is this really necessary?’ she asked.

‘I want to know.’

‘We went out for a couple of weeks,’ she said.

‘Who broke it off?’

Natalie found his intent look unsettling. ‘I did,’ she said.

‘So who have you dated since?’

‘No one you would know,’ she said. ‘I try to keep my private life out of the papers.’

‘Well done, you,’ he said. ‘I try to, but it’s amazing how people find out stuff.’

‘How do you stand it?’ she asked.

He gave a little shrug. ‘I’m used to it,’ he said. ‘My family’s wealth has always kept us in the spotlight. The only time it cooled off a bit was when I came to study in London. I enjoyed being anonymous—not that it lasted long.’

‘You lied to me.’

‘I didn’t lie to you,’ he said. ‘I just didn’t tell you I came from such a wealthy family. It was important for me to make it on my own. I didn’t want my father’s name opening any doors for me.’

‘You’ve certainly made a name for yourself in your own right,’ Natalie said. ‘You have twice the wealth of your father, or so I’ve heard.’

‘For someone who says they have no interest in what I do or who I see, you certainly know a lot about me,’ he said with a sardonic smile.

She ignored his comment and picked up her glass again, took a sip. ‘What have you told your family about me?’ she asked.

‘A version of the truth,’ he said.

Natalie’s eyes came back to his. ‘The truth about you hating me and wanting revenge?’ she asked with an arch look.

His dark brown eyes gleamed. ‘I could hardly tell my parents I hate you, now, could I?’

‘What did you tell them?’

His eyes kept on holding hers. ‘I told them I had never stopped loving you,’ he said.

She moistened her lips. ‘And they … believed you?’

‘They seemed to,’ he said. ‘Although the real test will be when they see us together. My mother, in particular, is a hard person to fool. You’ll have to be on your toes with her.’

Natalie felt her insides quake at the thought of interacting with his parents and other members of his family. How would she do it? How would she play the role of a happy bride without revealing the truth of how things were between them? How long before someone guessed? How long before it was splashed all over the newspapers?

‘Why do we have to get married?’ she asked. ‘Why couldn’t we just have an … an affair?’

Those unfathomable brown eyes measured hers. ‘Is that what you want?’ he asked. ‘An affair?’

She ran her tongue over her lips again. ‘No more than I want to marry you. I was just making a point,’ she said. ‘It seems a bit over the top to go to all the trouble of getting married when ultimately we know it’s going to end in divorce.’

‘You seem very sure it will end in divorce,’ he said.

Natalie’s heart fluttered like fast moving wings against her breastbone. ‘You can’t want to be tied to me indefinitely?’

His eyes moved over her leisurely. ‘Who knows? You might like being married to me,’ he said. ‘There will be numerous benefits to wearing my ring and bearing my name.’

She sat up like a puppet suddenly jerked backwards. ‘I don’t want your name,’ she said. ‘I’m perfectly happy with my own.’

A steely glint came into his eyes. ‘You will take my name,’ he said. ‘And you will be proud of it.’

She glowered at him, her whole body trembling with anger. ‘I will not change my name.’

Angelo’s eyes warred with hers. ‘You will do what I tell you to do,’ he said, his voice low but no less forceful.

Natalie stood up so abruptly her chair knocked against the one behind it. Every eye turned to look at her but she was beyond caring. She tossed her napkin down on the table and scooped her purse up with the other.

‘Find yourself another wife,’ she said, and stormed out.

A camera went off in her face as soon as she stepped outside the restaurant.

‘Miss Armitage?’ A journalist pushed a microphone close. ‘Can we have an exclusive on your current relationship with Angelo Bellandini?’

Natalie tried to avoid the reporter, but another member of the paparazzi cut her off as she tried to escape.

‘We notice you’re not wearing an engagement ring,’ he said. ‘Does that mean the wedding’s off?’

‘I …’

Angelo’s arm came around her protectively and he gently led her away from the throng. ‘Please give my fiancée some space,’ he said.

‘Mr Bellandini, do you have a comment to make on your engagement to Miss Armitage?’ the first journalist asked.

Angelo’s arm tightened around her waist a fraction. ‘The wedding is going ahead as planned,’ he said. ‘I have an engagement ring already picked out for Natalie. I am giving it to her tonight when we get home. Now, please leave us to celebrate our engagement in privacy.’

Natalie was ushered to Angelo’s car without further intrusion from the press. She sat back in her seat, her fingers white-knuckled around her purse.

‘Don’t ever do that again,’ Angelo said as he fired the engine.

She threw him a cutting glance. ‘I am not going to be ordered around by you.’

His hands gripped the steering wheel as tightly as she was clutching her purse. His knuckles looked as if they were going to burst through the skin.

‘I will not tolerate you flouncing out on me like a spoilt child,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Do you have no sense of propriety? You do realise that little scene will be all over the papers tomorrow? What were you thinking?’

Natalie gave her head a toss. ‘I’m not going to be bullied into changing my name.’

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘It’s obviously a sore point with you. I’m prepared to compromise. I should’ve realised how important it was to you. It’s your trademark.’ He paused for a beat. ‘I’m sorry.’

She slowly loosened her grip on her purse. ‘Are the press always that intrusive?’ she asked.

He let out a breath in a sigh. ‘I hardly notice it any more,’ he said. ‘But, yes, they are. It won’t last for ever. They’ll lose interest once we’re married.’

Natalie frowned as she looked at him. ‘I hope people don’t think I’m marrying you for your money.’

His lips lifted in the slightest of smiles. ‘No, cara, they’ll think it’s my body you are after.’

She turned away to stare at the passing scenery, her lower body flickering with a pulse she had thought long ago quelled. ‘I’m not going to sleep with you, Angelo,’ she said.

‘Are you saying that to convince me or yourself?’ he asked.

Natalie couldn’t have answered either way, so she changed the subject. ‘Have you really got an engagement ring?’ she asked.

‘I have.’

‘Do you not think I might have liked to choose it for myself?’

He threw her an exasperated look. ‘In my family it’s traditional for the man to choose the engagement ring,’ he said.

She toyed with the catch on her purse for a moment or two. ‘It’s not the same one you bought five years ago, is it?’ she asked.

‘No,’ he said.

She sneaked a glance at him but his expression was inscrutable. ‘Did you give it to someone else?’ she asked. ‘As a present or something?’

He brought the car to a standstill outside her house before he answered. ‘I donated it to a charity for their silent auction,’ he said. ‘There’s some lucky girl out there now wearing a ring that cost more than most people’s houses.’

Natalie chewed at the inside of her mouth. ‘I never asked you to spend that amount of money on me.’

His swung his gaze to hers. ‘No, you didn’t, did you?’ he said. ‘But then it wasn’t money you wanted from me, was it?’

She couldn’t hold his look. ‘I’ve seen what money can do to people,’ she said. ‘It changes them, and not always for the good.’

She felt his gaze studying her for endless seconds. ‘What have you told your parents about us?’ he asked.

She pressed her lips together. ‘Not much.’

‘How much?’

She looked at him again. ‘It was my mother’s idea for me to come and see you,’ she said. ‘I only did it for her sake.’

‘And Lachlan’s, presumably?’

Her eyes fell away from his. ‘Yes …’

The silence stretched interminably.

‘Are you going to ask me in?’ he asked.

She gave him a pert look. ‘Are you going to come in even if I don’t?’

He brushed an idle finger down the curve of her cheek, his eyes focussed on her mouth, his lips curved upwards in a half-smile. ‘If you don’t want me then all you have to do is say so.’

I do want you.

The words were like drumbeats inside her head.

I want you. I want you. I want you.

She locked out that traitorous voice and pasted an indifferent look on her face. ‘Are you staying in town overnight?’ she asked.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I was hoping you’d offer me a bed for the night.’

Natalie felt her heart give a hard, sharp kick. ‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because … Because …’

‘The press will think it odd if I don’t stay with you,’ he said, before she could think of an excuse. ‘I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but a car followed us back here. It’s parked behind the red car.’

She checked in the side mirror. There was a man sitting behind the wheel with a camera’s telephoto lens trained in their direction. Panic gripped her by the throat. Was this how it was going to be? Would she be hounded like a terrified fox with nowhere to hide?

Angelo opened his door and came around to where she was sitting, frozen in dread.

‘He’ll move on once we’re inside,’ he said. ‘Just try to act naturally.’

Natalie got out of the car and allowed him to take her hand. She felt the strong grip of his fingers as they curled around hers. It was the same feeling she’d had when he had put his arm around her waist earlier.

She felt protected.

‘Give me your keys,’ he said.

She handed them over. ‘It’s the big brass one,’ she said.

He unlocked the door and held it open for her to pass through. ‘How long have you lived here?’ he asked as he closed the door.

‘Three and a half years.’

‘Why Scotland? I thought you said you grew up in Gloucestershire?’

‘My mother is a Scot,’ she said. ‘She grew up in the seaside village of Crail in Fife. I spent a lot of holidays there with my grandparents when I was young.’

‘You didn’t tell me that before.’

She gave a shrug as she placed her purse on the hall table. ‘It didn’t seem important.’

‘What else didn’t you tell me that didn’t seem important?’

Natalie turned away from his probing look. ‘Do you want a drink or something?’

He stalled her by placing a hand on her arm. ‘Tatty?’

She looked down at his hand. How dark and masculine it looked against her paler skin. It dredged up memories she didn’t want to resurface. She felt the rumble of them like tectonic plates rubbing against each other. An earthquake of sensation threatened to spill out like lava. She felt the heat of it bubbling like a furnace inside her.

‘I asked you not to call me that,’ she said.

His hand moved along her arm in a gentle caress. ‘I don’t always do what I’m told,’ he said. ‘I like bending the rules to suit me.’

Natalie tried to pull away but his fingers subtly tightened. She met his gaze—so dark and mesmerising—so in control. He knew he had her where he wanted her. She was at his mercy. Lachlan’s freedom and future depended on her. Angelo knew she would not do anything to jeopardise it. Her little temper tantrum back at the restaurant had achieved nothing. He would always come after her and remind her of what was at stake.

‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked. ‘You must know how it’s going to end.’

His hooded gaze drifted to her mouth. ‘I don’t care how it ends,’ he said. ‘This is about the here and now.’

She looked at his mouth. Oh, how she wanted to feel those firm lips move against hers! She remembered the heat; she remembered the blistering passion that burned like a taper all over her flesh. She remembered the sexy thrust of his tongue as it came in search of hers.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the breeze of his breath skate over her lips. He lowered his mouth to just above hers. She swept her tongue over her lips, wanting him, aching for him to make the first move.

‘Go on,’ he said, in a low, husky, spine-melting tone. ‘I know you want to.’

Natalie’s stomach shifted like a speeding skater suddenly facing a sheet of broken ice. Could he read her so well even after all this time? She fought for composure, for self-control, for anything.

‘You’re mistaken,’ she said coolly. ‘I don’t want any such thing.’

He brushed a finger over her tingling bottom lip. ‘Liar.’

It took all of her resolve and then some to step back, but somehow she did it. She moved to the other side of the room, barricading herself behind one of the sofas set in the middle of the room. ‘I think you should leave,’ she said.

‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Because you don’t trust yourself around me?’

She sent him an arctic look. ‘I’m not going to be a slave to your desires.’

‘Is that what you think you’ll be?’ he asked. ‘What about your own desires? You have them. You can deny them all you like but they’re still there. I can feel it when I touch you.’

‘What we had five years ago is gone,’ Natalie said. ‘You can’t make it come back just to suit you.’

‘It never went away,’ he said. ‘You wanted it to, but it didn’t. You were scared of the next step, weren’t you? You were scared of the commitment of marriage. You’re still scared. What I’d like to know is why.’

‘Get out.’

‘I’m not going until I give you this.’ He took a jeweller’s box from inside his jacket pocket. But rather than come over to her he simply set it down on the coffee table. It reminded her of a gauntlet being laid down between two opponents.

‘I’ll have a car sent to collect you on Tuesday,’ he said. ‘Pack enough clothes for a week. We’ll be expected to go on a honeymoon. If you e-mail me a list of the people you wish to invite to the ceremony I’ll have my secretary deal with it.’

‘What do you want me to wear?’ she asked. ‘Sackcloth and ashes?’

‘You can wear what you like,’ he said. ‘It makes no difference to me. But do keep in mind that there will be photographers everywhere.’

‘Do you really expect me to pack up my life here and follow you about the globe like some lovesick little fool?’ she asked.

‘We will divide our time between your place and mine,’ he said. ‘I’m based in London, but I plan to spend a bit of time in Sorrento until the development is near completion. I’m prepared to be flexible. I understand you have a business to run.’

She gave him a petulant look. ‘What if I don’t want you to share my house?’

‘Get used to it, Natalie. I will share your house and a whole lot more before the ink is dry on our marriage certificate.’ He went to the door. ‘I’ll see you on Tuesday.’

Natalie didn’t touch the jeweller’s box until he had left. She stood looking at it for a long time before she picked it up and opened it. Inside was an art deco design triple diamond ring. It was stunningly beautiful. She took it out of its velvet home and slipped it on her finger. She couldn’t have chosen better herself. It was neither too loose nor too tight—a perfect ring for an imperfect relationship.

She wondered how long it would be before she would be giving it back.