‘I won’t. But tonight I’m just going to enjoy myself.’
‘That’s the spirit. Let’s go.’
Damiano and Charlie were waiting for them downstairs. Damiano wore an elegant eighteenth-century-tyle black velvet costume. Pietro, dressed as a flamboyant monster, joined them and paraded his new self with glee.
‘Come on,’ Sally told him. ‘Let’s show you off.’
Taking his hand, she led him to the kitchen where Nora and the maids greeted him with cries of delight. The men watched them go.
‘Wow!’ Mario said in a soft voice full of admiration.
‘Wow?’ Charlie queried.
‘Wow!’ Mario repeated, still watching Sally’s retreating figure. When she’d vanished he regarded Charlie with a touch of unease.
‘You really are her brother, right?’
‘Right.’
‘So you and she aren’t—you know—a couple?’
‘Are you kidding me?’ Charlie exclaimed. ‘Even if she wasn’t my sister I wouldn’t be chasing her. She makes me nervous.’
‘Why? She’s fantastic.’
‘She’s a businesswoman. Her life revolves around figures. She makes sensible decisions.’
‘Is it a crime to be sensible?’ Damiano asked.
‘Depends on what she’s being sensible about,’ Charlie said.
‘So what is it with her and guys?’ Mario said.
‘She’s suspicious of guys, always thinks the worst and treats them accordingly.’ He grinned. ‘So if you’re thinking what I’m thinking you’re thinking, don’t say I didn’t warn you. She’s a tough cookie.’
‘But not with everyone, surely?’ Mario protested.
Charlie grimaced. ‘There was this guy—I’m not sure what happened. They got close then broke up. I think she found him with someone else, so that made her even more “sensible”. I’ve actually heard her say that real love doesn’t exist and romance is just pathetic nonsense.’
‘I’ve said that myself a few times. Most guys have.’
‘Sure, but how many women have you heard say it?’
‘True.’ A smile overtook Mario’s face. ‘That could even be a challenge.’
A noise from the kitchen announced that Sally was returning, led by Pietro, clutching her hand. Laughing, Charlie went to meet them. When he was out of earshot Damiano observed, ‘And you could never resist a challenge, I recall.’
‘Some challenges are more interesting than others. There’s something extra there, something fascinating,’ Mario replied.
‘Just be careful,’ Damiano advised. ‘I think she’d be too much for you.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I know you.’
‘But you don’t know her. Not if you see her as a governess.’
‘Is that what she told you?’ Damiano asked sharply.
‘She said you’d hinted about employing her for Pietro. And you do want her to stick around, don’t you?’
‘Not like that,’ Damiano said quietly. He raised his voice. ‘Are we ready to go, everyone?’
CHAPTER SIX
THE ENTRANCE TO the hotel was through a private door in Damiano’s study. From here a walk along a short corridor took them to the ballroom where the doors were thrown open and cheers greeted them.
The great room was dazzling, full of dramatic costumes and masks that presumably concealed human beings, although for a wild moment Sally couldn’t be sure. There could be any number of ghostly beings behind those weird faces. She tried to order her sensible side to take control, but that part of her mind was dancing away somewhere, singing that this was no time for boring good sense.
Mario seized her in his arms, whirling her merrily about the floor. He was a good dancer and she found herself moving more skilfully than ever before. She wasn’t short of partners. Several of Mario’s friends appeared, demanding to be introduced, then asking her to dance. The one person who didn’t approach her was Damiano.
‘He doesn’t dance much at these evenings,’ Mario told her. ‘He has duties to perform, which leave little time for his guests. That’s his excuse, anyway.’
As he spoke they waltzed past Damiano, who was watching them carefully. Mario waved. Damiano responded with a brief nod, but no more, which Sally found disappointing. He’d spoken so often of his gratitude for her help. The least he could do was give her some attention. As the waltz finished she saw him engaged in an argument with Pietro and went to join them.
‘I said you could stay for an hour, and then go to bed,’ Damiano was saying.
‘I don’t want to go,’ the little boy said crossly.
‘But you need plenty of sleep to be at your best for Carnival,’ Sally told him. ‘Think of all the fun you’ll miss if you can’t stay awake. Come on. Let’s go.’
Without further argument he took her hand and they slipped out of the ballroom, returning to the house. Damiano came with them as far as the stairs, then he stopped, struck by the sound of singing and laughter coming from outside.
‘Someone’s having a good time,’ he observed, heading for the window.
In the canal outside they saw several gondolas gliding through the water.
‘You haven’t been in a gondola, have you?’ he asked Sally.
‘No, and I really look forward to my first time.’
‘There’s no time like the present. Pietro, can you ask Nora to help you to get ready for bed so that I can take Sally on a trip?’
She half expected the boy to become rebellious again, but he nodded eagerly, evidently liking the sight of them going off together.
‘But shouldn’t you go back to the ball?’ she asked Damiano.
‘I’ve done my duty. Now I’m going to please myself.’
Pietro clearly approved, for he hugged her before dashing upstairs.
‘One moment,’ Damiano said, going into his office. He emerged a moment later with a heavy jacket that he put around her shoulders.
‘I don’t want you catching cold,’ he said. ‘This way.’
‘Will we be able to find a gondolier?’
‘My own man has instructions to keep himself available for me.’
Clearly the man had obeyed instructions for she saw the vacant boat as soon as they left the building. Damiano helped her in, and when they were both safely seated the gondola began to move.
First they glided out into the Grand Canal, filled with life and light despite the lateness of the hour. The city was humming with anticipation of the good time to come. Music and laughter were everywhere, and Sally raised her eyes to the starlit sky, revelling in an experience more delightful than she had ever known.
She was unaware of Damiano watching her with a thoughtful look in his eyes. Things had happened over the last few days that had stopped him in his tracks, bringing him to the edge of a decision he’d never thought to take. This very evening the sight of her twirling in his brother’s arms had warned him that a crisis could be approaching.
As they passed under the Rialto Bridge she gave a happy sigh and settled back, feeling his arm about her shoulder.
‘I envy you,’ Damiano said. ‘Discovering Venice for the first time is an experience never to be forgotten.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she sighed. ‘I’ll have to leave soon, but I’ll come back here often.’
He said nothing.
Now St Mark’s was growing near. The gondola turned into the side canal that led to the hotel. As they gradually approached Damiano said quietly, ‘Are you sure you will leave?’
‘I really must get back to my work.’
‘But why, when you have a new life opening to you here?’
‘Do I? I don’t understand how.’
They had reached the steps where they would land. The gondola came to a halt. He helped her out, drawing her down the little side alley.
‘Do you really not understand?’ he asked. ‘Haven’t you sensed how much Pietro needs you? You’ve become so important to him. Will you desert him?’
‘That’s not enough. He wants you as his mother.’
‘But I’m not his mother.’
He stopped and faced her. ‘You could be—if we married.’
Astounded, Sally stared at Damiano, not sure if she’d really heard what she’d thought. He was watching her intently.
She drew a shaky breath. ‘That’s a very bad joke.’
‘I’m not joking. My son has lost two mothers. If he loses you as well he’ll be shattered.’
‘Then why did you let him get so close to me?’
‘Let him? I couldn’t have stopped him. It was always out of my hands. I understood that when I went to your room that day and found him in your arms. He’d gone there as a refuge because he knew instinctively that you were who he wanted. And what you’ve done for him since, giving him the courage and knowledge to face up to that school bully—and showing me how I could make contact with him. I didn’t plan it, Sally. Once you’d discovered the way, it was in your hands, not mine.’
‘But marriage—I don’t believe what I’m hearing.’
‘I know it sounds incredible when we’ve known each other such a little time. But sometimes a little time is enough. We got to know each other and things happened between us. I realised that you fitted in here perfectly. Not just with Pietro but with me. You know what I’m saying. You and I have an instinctive understanding. It’s there whenever we talk. When I realised that, I knew you were perfect for my needs.’
‘Your needs,’ she echoed.
‘And Pietro’s.’
‘Is anyone else allowed to have needs? Don’t I have any?’
‘Yes, you need a life that isn’t dominated by fear for Charlie. And you know I can give you that. He’ll stay here with us and work for me. That way I can keep a protective eye on him all the time.’
‘But—do you realise what you’re saying? You’re planning to take over all of my life—’
‘That’s what happens when people marry.’
‘In normal marriages it’s mutual, but you’re not going to let me take over your life, are you?’
To her surprise he paused to consider before answering.
‘Probably not,’ he said at last. ‘At least, not consciously. But you’re such a clever woman that you might do it without my suspecting. One day I’ll probably wake up and realise just how much control you’ve taken.’
‘If that ever happened you’d be livid.’
‘Maybe. Maybe not. It would depend on your methods.’
‘No, stop this. You’re trying to get into my head and twist it around.’
‘I’m not inside your head, Sally. But I hope I will be one day. I think I might be intrigued by what I find there.’
He was teasing her because he guessed it was the best way to catch her off-guard. Which meant it was just another form of control from a man who was master of all forms. He guessed she couldn’t cope with him in this mood and he was perilously close to being right.
But warning bells were sounding in her head. This man had almost everything a woman could need. He was sexually attractive, and he had plenty of charm when it suited him to display it. But she wasn’t going to fall victim to feelings that might make her helpless. She stepped backed from him.
‘Sally—’
‘No. I mean it. I’m flattered by the offer but I’m not something you can just take over to suit yourself.’
He reached for her but she fended him off and turned to walk away.
Damiano watched her, trying to control his inner turmoil. At this moment Charlie’s words came back to him.
Her life revolves around figures. She makes sensible decisions… She’s suspicious of guys, always thinks the worst and treats them accordingly… I’ve actually heard her say that real love doesn’t exist and romance is just pathetic nonsense.
He sensed that the lad’s opinion of his sister, immature though it might be, held a grain of truth. It would have been a mistake to discuss feelings, even if he’d been sure of what his feelings were.
He had a dismaying sense that he’d gone about this proposal the wrong way. But what was the right way? He wished he could be sure.
‘Sally,’ he called. ‘Come back.’
Slowly she turned and made her way back to him. But then she saw something that filled her with dismay.
Pietro was watching them.
He was standing on the balcony of his bedroom, staring as though frozen by what he saw. Even in the poor light Sally could make out the dismay on his face and his air of tension.
‘Oh, no,’ she breathed.
Damiano drew a sharp breath and spoke in a low voice. ‘He’s afraid we’re quarrelling. He can’t bear the sight, after what he’s witnessed in the past.’
‘You mean—?’
‘Imelda. There were some nasty scenes and he saw too much. I don’t want to hurt him.’ He took gentle hold of her. ‘Don’t push me away. Just come close to me.’
She did so, and saw in his face a tension that matched his son’s.
‘Smile,’ he urged.
‘Surely he won’t see it in this light?’
‘You’re right. We must do something that he can see.’ He put his arms right round her, drawing her close. ‘Rest your head on my chest,’ he murmured.
She let her head droop against him, contriving to look up in Pietro’s direction. He was still there watching, and she wondered if it was only her imagination that he was more relaxed at seeing them at ease with each other.
‘Put your arms around me,’ he whispered urgently. ‘We’ve got to look convincing.’
She did so, trying to stay in control although her head was spinning. She could feel the beat of his heart against her cheek. It was fierce, like her own, turning the whole world into mystery and confusion.
She wanted to escape, wrench herself from his arms and flee back to a place she understood, where she still had some command of her life. But at the same time she wanted to stay here for ever and never escape.
The warmth of his arms about her was sweet and comforting. How had she ever been angry with him?
‘Can you still see Pietro?’ he murmured.
She managed to glance up. ‘Yes, he’s still there, still watching us.’
‘Look at me,’ he whispered.
She did so and found his lips close to her own.
‘He must feel happy about us,’ he said softly, his breath whispering against her face. ‘Help me, Sally. Help me make him happy. Say you agree.’
‘But—’
‘Say it. For his sake.’
‘All right. I agree.’
Slowly Damiano dropped his head until his mouth brushed hers. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, just a gesture to reassure the child. She held herself steady, waiting for it to be over, feeling the tremors go through her, fighting every instinct that urged her to press against him and tempt him on—and on—
His lips parted from hers, but she could still feel the warmth of his breath. She drew away slowly, glancing upwards at Pietro. He was gone.
She tried to force her mind to take control. Damiano’s kiss had a power over her that she must fight. But her flesh challenged her, telling her mind that thoughts were irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was the sweetness flooding through her, destroying the common sense that had always ruled her life.
‘No,’ she murmured. ‘No.’
‘You agreed,’ he reminded her.
‘I agreed to help you make Pietro happy, but not with marriage. Stop trying to back me into a corner.’
‘Say yes. Say yes.’
‘I’ve given you my answer.’
His eyes told her that he’d felt her tremble in his arms and knew his power over her. Now nothing could ever be the same. He would force on her a kiss of passion that would leave her no choice. She braced hers
elf, part fearful, part furious, part craving.
‘All right,’ he said. ‘You need time to think, and perhaps so do I.’
‘What—what did you say?’
‘This is a big decision and you can’t make it all in a moment. You’re a businesswoman so you’ll need to balance all the pros and cons. We’ll talk again later.’
The shock of his withdrawal was so great that her head spun. Her defences had been in place against the passion she was sure he would cynically try to rouse in her. Instead he was turning away, leaving her in a desert. She could have hit him.
While she was still struggling, a drop of rain struck her, causing the vibrant atmosphere to collapse and her confusion to increase.
‘Let’s go in,’ he said, drawing her towards the door of the house.
She’d half expected to find Pietro there, eager to see more. But there was no sign of him.
‘Tactful of him,’ Damiano said. ‘He’s left us alone so that he doesn’t interrupt—whatever we’re planning.’
She ought to leave Venice, she thought. She couldn’t bear to hurt the child, but it was better for him not to indulge in groundless hopes. But another voice spoke within her, urging her to marry Damiano and put her whole heart and soul into winning his love.
‘You saw Pietro’s face,’ Damiano persisted. ‘Think what it would do to him to lose you.’
‘I know, I know,’ she said desperately. ‘You want to do the best for him, but how can you be sure? What about your second marriage? Wasn’t that for Pietro’s sake? But it didn’t work, did it?’
‘That was a terrible mistake,’ he said. ‘I made a bad choice, but I’ve watched you with Pietro and I know he’s happy with you. You’ll transform his life. In return I will protect your brother.’
‘Charlie’s growing up,’ she protested. ‘He’ll soon be able to defend himself.’
‘Soon? Like in about ten years? If he stays here with us I’ll give him a job and make sure someone is always watching over him. He’ll live with us, and be safe. Can you make him safe in any other way?’
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t, but—but can we base a marriage on that alone?’
There was a challenge in his eyes, silently reminding her how she’d trembled in his arms.
Not Just a Convenient Marriage Page 8