“Excuse me,” Rosie murmured quietly, moving in the direction Luca had taken.
She found him in the kitchen, leaning against the bench, staring out at the inky night sky. And her heart turned over in sorrow. Plans made for vengeance rarely ended well, and his had indeed been a darkly vengeful intent.
He didn’t flinch when she touched him. She put her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. Dressed in a suit, he looked so formidable and strong, and yet Rosie was reasonably certain that his heart was splintering into a galaxy of pieces, like his very own internal Big Bang.
“What do you want to do?” She asked, after a moment had passed in which neither had spoken.
He didn’t respond at first. Finally, though, he angled his head closer to hers. “I never thought this far ahead,” he said in a voice thick with self-condemnation. “I never thought of her.”
“Your mother?”
“Mietta. Whenever I envisaged throwing my presence back in their faces, it was always my father I imagined.”
Rosie could feel tension emanating from his broad shoulders. He was a raging torrent of emotions, but he kept them tightly wound up. Hidden inside of him because he didn’t know how to express what he felt. She lifted herself up onto the bench, sitting on the edge so that she could face him. He stared steadfastly ahead. His eyes were bleak, his face drawn.
“I wanted to hurt them. Now that I’ve met them, I wish I’d never even known they existed.”
“Do you still want to hurt them?” She pushed gently.
His eyes were black pools of fury and resentment, mingled with grief. “I cannot forgive them for what they did,” he responded with a gruff shake of his head.
Rosie reached up and pressed her hand to his cheek. For the most part, she wanted to take him in her arms and comfort him. She wanted to give in to the tears that were clogging her throat. To tell him that he was right to feel angry, that it completely sucked, that his parents were hopeless bastards for giving away a gift such as Luca. But she sensed he would appreciate pragmatism and reason far more.
“You have two choices. We can leave now, and never think of this moment again. You’ve confronted them, and you’ve opened a can of worms they’ll never be able to forget. That is a form of payback in itself. Or, if you have questions, we can stay here a little longer, so that you can try to get answers. What do you want to do?”
“I want to go,” he said finally. “Away from this house, and never return. Let’s leave.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Let’s go.”
He seemed to visibly pull himself together, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw. He reached out and put his hands on her waist. When he looked at her, he was the confident businessman she’d first met. “Thank you for coming with me.”
“Of course,” she nodded with a watery smile.
“You knew, didn’t you?” He asked, as she lifted her easily around the waist and set her gently down on the floor.
“Knew what?”
“When I told you my plan, over dinner, I suspect you had a presentiment that it might end like this.”
Rosie licked her lip and looked at him softly. “I thought there was a huge margin for things to turn out in an unexpected way.”
His eyes glittered with emotion. “And you wanted to protect me from that. You warned me, in your flat, and I didn’t listen.”
“Yes.” She reached up and grabbed his lapels in her small fists.
He frowned. “Why?” No one had ever sought to protect him in his whole life. He’d never been looked out for before. He was a lone wolf, used to fending off danger for himself, and managing whatever life threw at him on his own.
“I told you, silly. I love you. If there was a chance you might end up hurt, I wanted to be here for you.”
He shook his head, trying to comprehend Rosie’s heart; her beautiful, gentle heart. “I am very grateful to you.” It was completely insufficient, but his mind was still grappling with what she inspired in him. The emotions were so new, so terrifying, he couldn’t yet find words for them. The thought of the tiny, slender Rosie offering protection of any kind to a man such as him was both bizarre and perfect.
He nodded confidently. “Andiamo.”
He led her away from the kitchen, to a door on the other side. “You’re not even going to say goodbye?” She asked, pausing as they neared the front door to the house.
He was all harsh businessman when he glared down the hallway. “Do you think they deserve such courtesy?”
Rosie was a big believer in courtesy in all situations. But she could perfectly comprehend the rage that battled silently within Luca. She shrugged, carefully keeping her expression wiped of any emotion. “It’s your decision.”
It was. He turned away from the house and opened the door. He wished now that he had left his birth parents in the past, where they belonged. He hadn’t. But he could walk away from them in the present.
Later, back at the villa, Rosie found Luca standing out on the balcony, staring across Rome. His back was to her, but she knew he was lost in thought. Of course, she had no way of knowing that he was thinking about a father other than Arlo. That he was thinking about Bertram Darling, and the way he’d ruined his life. The way he’d ruined young Rosie’s childhood. Could he justify marrying her, when he knew what pain he’d given her? Was it enough that he wanted to make her life amazing in the future? Could he atone for past mistakes without ever revealing the truth to her?
Rosie simply presumed he was running the evening over and over in his mind, as she had been. From their spectacular engagement to the disastrous meeting of Mietta and Arlo, it was a lot to comprehend. She padded, barefoot, dressed in a flowing white nightgown, to his side.
It took him a moment to register her presence. He was miles away.
He turned to look at her, and it was as if she was dragging him out of the ocean. Slowly, he blinked, and saw her. Saw where he was, and with whom, and he smiled. “Rosie.”
Her heart turned over in her chest, for this beautiful, imperfect, intelligent man. “How come you never told me you can play piano? I’ve never heard anything so beautiful.”
His smile deepened. “Then I will play for you often.” He wanted to make her happy. He needed to do something right in his life, beyond taking broken companies and fixing them back up again.
“I didn’t get to thank you for organising my afternoon with Elena,” she said, after a beat had passed.
“Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Oh, very much. She’s wonderfully talented. Her creations are inspired.”
“Not more so than yours,” he said thickly. “I have never seen flowers that were as happy as those in your shop.”
Rosie pulled a face. “You might just be a little bit biased, I suspect.”
“Perhaps. It was difficult for me to concentrate tonight, knowing that you were naked beneath that dress.”
Her cheeks flamed. “Well, I really had very little choice in the matter now, did I?”
“Hmmm. If I had it my way, you would be naked all the time.”
She laughed. “I’m not sure that would be so good for business.”
“It would be too good for business. I would be jealous, and you do not wish to see me jealous.”
She thought of their ride in the limousine that night. He had been jealous then. Furious at the prospect of a recent and serious relationship. And his obvious possessive streak had filled her with wonderment. That she, Rosie Darling, could inspire such emotion in a man like Luca Abramo, defied explanation.
“Luca, when we are married… how do you see it working?”
He grinned. “I imagine we will make one another very happy, in many ways.”
She nodded. “I mean with our jobs. And where we live.”
He was quick to disguise his frown. “I never thought I would live in London permanently,” he said honestly. “And I want to spend time with you. To know that I can see you when I need you.”
>
Now it was Rosie’s turn to frown. “I work long hours. And odd hours. And I suspect you do, too.”
“Si.” He didn’t want to think about the practicalities, but her question deserved probing. “You see yourself in England for all your life?”
“I guess so.” She traced the outline of her lips with her tongue. “I mean, with dad gone, I guess there’s no one really tying me to London…”
“So you are open to anything?” He pushed seriously.
“I… I guess so.” She lowered her eyes, wondering about the future she was rushing headlong into.
He saw the gesture and determined to quash it. He pulled her to him and kissed her with his desperate passion. “You are not having regrets?”
“About our engagement?” She shook her head resolutely. “Not even one.”
“Good.” He lifted her hand and spun the ring. “I intend for us to marry as soon as it can be arranged. I trust this is acceptable?”
Rosie would have laughed if she hadn’t been falling into a chasm of love and desire. It was so like Luca Abramo, arrogant businessman, used to commanding and receiving. And she was glad. She had wondered if the events that had transpired with his birth parents might have knocked some of that confidence away. She was pleased to see it was still there.
“Absolutely acceptable,” she agreed with a small smile.
They made love that night like a pair possessed. Luca was desperate to slay his demons, and the only peace he had ever really known was in Rosie’s arms; and in Rosie’s body. He took over her completely, driving her almost wild with his ministrations, until she fell asleep, finally, her cheeks flushed and her body exhausted. Luca watched her sleep for a long time, before he left their bed. He would make her happy, because in pleasing a creature as good and as perfect as Rosie, he would find his own salvation.
Chapter 9
“Married?” Maggie spun around, her face a mask of surprise. “Married?” She squeaked again, her blue eyes huge circles in her face.
“Married,” Rosie confirmed, holding her left hand up and showing off the two rings she wore.
“But how… when? You’ve only been gone a couple of weeks.”
“I know.” Her laugh was filled with pure happiness. “I suppose you could say Luca is very persuasive.”
Maggie put her phone down and moved to stand in front of her best friend. “Start at the beginning.”
Rosie grinned. “I think we need a cup of tea for that.”
“Stuff tea.” Maggie looked up at the bright red clock. “Wine is in order.”
She poured two glasses of Pinot Noir and handed one to Rosie. She put it down without sipping from it. The story flowed from her lips, of his proposal, meeting his birth parents, and the way it had seemed to bring them closer together. “I didn’t mean for us to get married so soon, but then again, why wait?” She grinned. “My only regret, Mags, is that I couldn’t have you there with me.”
“Where? Where did it happen?”
“An island off the south of Italy. A tiny little piece of land, just big enough for a small fishing village and Luca and me. It was so perfect.”
Maggie had almost completely drained her glass. She was in complete shock. Maggie was the crazy one; Rosie was always the voice of reason. And yet, on this occasion, their roles were well and truly reversed.
Maggie forced a bright smile to her face. “I’m thrilled, darling. Naturally.”
“Are you?” Rosie might have been floating on cloud nine, but she knew Maggie better, almost, than she knew herself.
“Of course.” Maggie put her wine down and took Rosie’s hands in hers.
“I know it’s out of character,” Rosie made the understatement of the century with a lift of her shoulders. “At first it seemed crazy. But it doesn’t anymore. I love him. Completely. Why sit around waiting when I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he is my future?”
Maggie scanned her friend’s face. What she saw there was so obviously happiness that she couldn’t help but get in the spirit. For years, she had seen Rosie grapple with the responsibilities of life. Now, she had met someone she adored, who seemed to adore her back. With his whole heart.
Her smile, now, was genuine. “I couldn’t agree more. I’m sorry if I seemed shocked. It’s so spontaneous; it caught me a little off guard. But you’re right, of course.” Besides, they could always get divorced if it turned out to be the wrong decision.
“Thanks, Mags. Your support means everything to me.”
“And you have it, unconditionally. You always will.”
Rosie lifted her wine and put it down without taking a sip. Her face showed a hint of concern, enough for Maggie to say, “What is it?”
“Oh, it’s just Luca. He says he’s happy to stay in London, if that’s what I want. But I don’t know if he’s happy here.”
Maggie was very careful not to react. “I see.”
“I mean, I don’t want you thinking that I want to leave the shop or anything. It’s something we have to figure out, I guess.” She thought back to that night on the balcony, when she’d brought up the issue of where they’d live and how their careers would work side by side. The conversation had ended with no answers. Which wasn’t to say the conclusion hadn’t been satisfying, she remembered with a small sigh.
“I see,” Maggie repeated. Rosie was her best friend, not simply her business partner. While the shop had been a long held dream for them, her happiness mattered more. “Darling, you need to choose your future. The shop does a great trade. We can work anything out.”
Rosie nodded, but there was more to it. “It’s not that. I mean, I love him, with all my heart. But I don’t think I want to give up my life. My floristry, my business, my time with you. This is the life that I built for myself, and I want him in it, as my husband. But then, I think a part of me is just scared to give all this up, because it would be like closing the door on a part of myself. Do I close that door, Mags? Do I give him absolutely everything and trust that our marriage will always be enough? That I won’t regret leaving the shop in a year’s time? Five years?”
Mentally, Maggie sighed with relief. “You’re the one who always says there are no guarantees in life. You have to take your own advice. Live in the moment and enjoy being a newlywed. You’ll know what’s right in a few months’ time.”
Rosie nodded. Maggie had a point. There was no rush to make any quick decision with regards to the shop. Though Luca travelled often for business, he was at his own whim. He could pick and choose his trips, and she could accompany him often. She nodded faster now. “I feel so much better after telling you. I’ve been jumping out of my skin waiting to see you, Maggie.”
“I’m glad you’re back. I’ve missed knowing you were just upstairs.”
Rosie swung her legs off the bench. “Well, actually,” she blushed. “Speaking of plans, I was planning on moving in with Luca. I mean, it just makes sense. His place is bigger, and most of his work is in Canary Wharf…”
Maggie curtailed the instinct to remind Rosie that she worked in Chelsea. Where she lived and what kind of commute she had ahead of her was her business.
“Sure.” She smiled encouragingly. “You’re going now?”
Rosie’s pink cheeks deepened. “The car’s waiting.”
“Luca’s here?”
Rosie grinned. “No.” She cleared her throat. “My driver.”
Maggie rolled her eyes in amusement. “My, my. Aren’t we fancy.”
“I know! It’s all a little bit crazy, I’ll admit. But he insisted I should have a car and a security guy to drive me around.” She shrugged. “He’s built like a tank. You’d love him.”
Maggie’s love life was just complicated enough without bringing another hunky, emotionally distant male into the mix. “Another time, perhaps.”
Rosie put her arms around Maggie’s shoulders. “I’ll come by tomorrow to talk to Laura and work out some logistics.”
“No rush, Mrs. Abramo.” She hugged
her friend back, and said a silent prayer that Luca deserved a woman as wonderful as Rosie. If he hurt Rosie, Maggie wasn’t sure what she’d be capable of.
The driver was waiting outside the apartment, the sleek yellow Mercedes parked on a matching double yellow line.
He silently opened the door, and stared straight ahead while Rosie slid inside. Apparently, his spec was to be as unfriendly as possible. No attempts at conversation had elicited more than a one-word response.
The interior was plush and spacious. She peered out at the café, and waved once more at Maggie. The café was such a huge part of her life. Why didn’t she feel more ambivalent about the thought of leaving it? She had loved what she and Maggie had done there. But it no longer felt as important. Still a piece of her life she wanted to hold onto, but not the only piece.
She leaned forward. “Can you stop at the pharmacy on the corner please? I just need to grab something.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
It only took her a few minutes to get what she needed at the pharmacy, and then she was back in the warmth of the car. When she got home, she found a note scrawled on a piece of paper on the bench top. “Need to talk tonight. I’ll be home by six.” She looked at it, and even the sight of his firm, hard penmanship made her heart beat faster. Just like the man himself, his writing was decisive and filled with intent.
She clutched it in her hand and moved through the apartment, looking around with a dispassionate eye. She knew he had paid a fortune to have the place decorated. But most of it would have to go. It was wasteful, but she couldn’t live in a place that was so completely bland. It amazed her that he had, for so long. When she’d said as much to him, he’d pointed out that he didn’t live in London. It was simply a place to spend time when his business interests called him to the United Kingdom.
The wall phone rang and Rosie moved towards it quickly. The security guard at the bottom of the building spoke in with an Eastern European accent. “Madam, I have a Mietta Patrini asking to come up. May I buzz her in?”
“No.” Rosie frowned, lifting a hand and rubbing her forehead. “I mean, yes. Okay.”
MARRYING HER ENEMY & STOLEN BY THE DESERT KING Page 10