Читать книгу The Billionaire's Prize - Rebecca Winters - Страница 8

PROLOGUE

DEA CARACCIOLO STOOD inside the grand dining hall of the castle on Posso Island. She was ready to flee now that she’d done her part during the wedding ceremony of her twin sister, Alessandra, and Rinieri Montanari.

“Darling? Why are you here by the doors?”

Oh, no. She turned her head in surprise. “Mamma.”

“I still need to be in line to greet the guests and would like you to go sit with Guido and his parents.”

Dea didn’t think she could bear it. “Please don’t make me.”

“But you’re the maid of honor. Your father and I are depending on you to entertain the best man and his family. Alessandra says they love Rini, and Signor Rossano has spoken highly of you since the night you were a model in the fashion show on his yacht. Come on. I’ll walk you over to their table.”

The mention of the yacht increased her agony, but this was one situation Dea couldn’t get out of. Somehow she would have to endure Guido’s company for a few more minutes.

During the wedding ceremony they’d gone through the motions to be civil to each other in order to carry out their duties, but he’d hardly looked at her and she knew why. He couldn’t help but have a low opinion of her since that night on the yacht when she’d made the worst blunder of her life with Rini in front of Guido. He probably assumed she was still in love with her new brother-in-law.

The situation couldn’t be uglier, but her mother expected her to be gracious for a little while longer. When they approached the table, Guido and his father got to their feet before inviting her to sit down.

Guido’s mother was a lovely woman and Dea tried to concentrate on her once they started to eat. “My sister told me about your generous gift to her and Rini.”

“We thought they should honeymoon on our yacht to get away from everyone else. Alessandra is perfectly charming, and Rini’s a favorite of ours.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“I have to say, you looked so beautiful the night of the fashion show,” Signora Rossano continued. “But tonight you’re even more beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“It’s only the truth,” a smiling Signor Rossano interjected. “Don’t you think so, Guido?”

His son put down his champagne glass. “Papà? As you well know, Signorina Caracciolo has most of the Italian male population at her feet.”

His father nodded with satisfaction. “That is true.”

To his parents’ ears, Guido’s comment must have sounded like a supreme compliment. But the choice of the word most let Dea know he didn’t include himself in that particular population.

“Signor Rossano, the other models and I were amazed you would allow your yacht to be used for a fashion show backdrop. It was a great thrill for them and they’re hoping you’ll offer it again.”

“I wouldn’t count on it for another year,” Guido murmured out of his father’s hearing, sounding turned off by her comment. She hadn’t meant that she included herself in those who hoped to wangle another invitation. But no doubt Guido had assumed as much. She shouldn’t have said anything at all.

Feeling more and more uncomfortable, she almost gasped with relief when her aunt Fulvia came over to the table and asked her if she’d like to say goodbye to the Archbishop of Taranto, who’d married her sister and Rini. It was a great honor and Dea excused herself with as much grace as she could muster before clinging to her aunt’s arm. Her mother’s only sister had saved her from further embarrassment and she would always be grateful.