Her English held a strong Italian accent. “Here, let me look at you.” She held Glory at arms’ length. “Oh, Edoardo,” she breathed, “She is beautiful, si.”
He gave a soft laugh. His voice low. “Si, she is beautiful, Mamma.”
A tall handsome man entered the room. An older replica of Edoardo. He smiled and Glory automatically smiled back. He approached her, his arms held out, and Glory moved into them. “My dear, child,” he whispered, “I cannot tell you how pleased I am to see you.” He held her away from him, studying her face. “Ah, you are so beautiful. Eh, Mamma, she is beautiful, si.”
Edoardo moved in close to her, placing his arm around her shoulders. “Papa, Mamma, this is my girl.” Glory gave him a swift glance at those last words. “Glory, my parents Silvio and Pina.”
Pina placed her arm around Glory’s waist and led her to a long, tapestry-covered couch. “Come sit next to me. We have so much to discuss, and so much to talk about. You work with Edoardo, don’t you? His partner, si?”
Glory gave a soft not so nervous now, laugh. “Not quite his partner, Mrs. Pisani, more like his small fry. You know, the one who does all the work.” She flashed Edoardo a sideward glance.
“Don’t listen to her, Mamma, she runs the practice.” His laugh was wicked. “Or so she thinks.”
Pina said softly, “Edoardo tells me that you are an orphan.”
Glory nodded crazily, like a toy plastic dog on the back seat of a car, oddly wanting to please his mother, make her like her for herself alone. And pleased with her son’s choice of … of what? A permanent girlfriend? A wife? Or just a show-piece to tag around on his arm, smiling sweetly at anyone who poked a nose in her direction? Darn, don’t go down that dismal path.
Mamma smiled adoringly first at Edoardo, then at Glory. “Then you must look on me as mamma, and I will be your mother, si?”
“Yes, Mrs. Pisani,” Glory whispered, completely overwhelmed.
Pina took Glory’s hands between hers. “No, cara, not Mrs. Pisani. Mamma. Just mamma. You will call me mamma, si?” she insisted.
Glory felt terrible that Mamma believed her to be a real part of Edoardo’s life, a woman who would be part of their family, but at the same time the warmth delighted Glory. The affection she felt from Pina was new and so sweet. It had been so long since Glory had experienced real fondness from an older woman that she had this rather childish desire to climb on mamma’s knee, bury her face into her more than ample bosom and bawl her eyes out. Tell her how much she loved Edoardo and how he could never be her Prince Charming.
Mamma lifted her plump shoulders, straightened her back, and said, “We are so excited that you are marrying our Edoardo.”
“Marrying Edoardo!” Glory yelped, her body jumping back an inch or two. She gazed swiftly around the room. Where was the exit?
“You are the first girl he has brought home since his first marriage ended, so we knew it must be because you will be married! And of course he would pick a wonderful lovely woman who shares his interests. We are so happy, si, Papa?
“Have you chosen your dress?” Joy bubbled in Mamma’s laugh and shone in her eyes. “I know this wonderful seamstress who made clothes for Sophia Loren. Oh, she is old now but still her fingers are so nimble.”
“What dress?” Glory asked. Things were going fast from bad to downright disastrous. “I don’t know anything about any dress.”
Mamma clucked like a mother duck. “Your wedding dress, cara.”
Confusion weakened her voice. “I didn’t imagine being married.”
Her head was whirling like a crazy spinning top. She had no idea what was going on, had even less idea how to handle the situation, and could do nothing else than go along with whatever happened and pray to God that she would come out the other end sane.
This meeting was supposed to be the meeting of the girlfriend, maybe the possible intended down the track a few years, to Edoardo’s parents. Glory had come totally unprepared to discuss marriage.
She flew an anxious glance over to Edoardo. He appeared as stunned as she. So why wasn’t he saying something, denying that they were to be married? Explain to his mother that the wedding would come at a much later date — a much, much later date.
Mamma’s hand flew to her mouth. “Not be married as a bride,” she cried. “You wish to kill your mother?” She thrust her ample breasts forward, hitting her chest with the palm of one hand. “End my misery now and do it with a knife. It will be kinder.”
“Mamma,” Glory stuttered, “I didn’t meant to hurt you. It’s only that we haven’t thought about the wedding.” She flashed Edoardo a pleading look, which he chose to ignore. What was with him? For God’s sake, why didn’t he come to her rescue? “I mean, we’ve only just fallen in love.”
“Si, si, cara.” Mamma pursed her lips. “Now, the wedding. We are going to have all the trimmings, I am determined,” she said. “And of course it must be a church wedding.”
Glory lurched, ice spreading through her stomach. Death, where is thy sting?
“Please, Mamma, no church and no wedding dress,” she begged. “I’ll do whatever else you want, I promise. You can invite the Prime Minister, the Queen of England or the President of Italy, but please no church and no wedding dress.”
Glory gave a tiny hiccup. She couldn’t remember ever having lost control the way she had at this very moment, this giddy sensation of being swept into a whirlpool and spiralling downward fast. No matter what, it seemed she couldn’t keep the situation in check.
On one hand she didn’t want to hurt Mamma, and on the other, she wanted her to know that Edoardo wasn’t intending marriage. Nor, by God, was she.
Mamma embraced her. “Hush, cara, we will not discuss the wedding today, if this upsets you.” Mamma stood. “I’ll be only a moment. Papa, please come with me.”
Edoardo squatted down next to Glory.
Her eyes lowered. She could see the way the denim of his jeans dragged firmly over the muscles of his thighs. He was barely inches from her, and she had an almost overwhelming craving to reach over and run her fingertips across his mouth.
She swallowed hastily, moistening her dry lips. Her heart hammered. “Edoardo,” she murmured, “Can you tell me in words of four syllables or less, what’s going on? Your mother is talking about a bridal dress, a wedding and an organ playing Here Comes the Bride. What happened to the courtship and the long long long engagement?”
She breathed deeply through her nostrils. “I don’t know what to say to her.” He remained silent. “Edoardo, are you listening to me?”
Edoardo glanced over his shoulder, his brow creased into a quick frown, then turned back to her and said affectionately, “I think we should kiss.”
She was too startled by his suggestion to offer any resistance. “Wh — ?”
His arms locked around her as he fell onto the couch beside her. “For Mamma’s sake,” he said. “You know, show her how much we’re in love.”
She brought her fingers to her mouth. “Is all this really necessary?”
“Nothing serious.” He took her hand rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. She shivered. “A friendly kiss. A colleague’s kiss. A kiss of a friend to a friend. You know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
“For Mamma’s benefit.”
“For Mamma’s benefit?”
“Uh huh.” He flashed a cheeky grin. “When she comes back into the room we should be touching.”
He lightly touched her face tracing his fingers down the side of her cheek. “The touching’s good,” she murmured. “Keep the touching.”
And then his lips brushed hers and a sensation so sweet, so tender, so utterly exciting overtook her.
Her mind told her to resist, but her body refused. Her skin prickled pleasurably.
She could
hear the abrasive uneven rhythm of her breathing.
His large hand cupped her chin and held it gently. His tongue circled the inside of her mouth sending shivers of desire racing through her.
His mouth covered hers hungrily. She revelled in the strong hardness of his lips, and returned his kiss with equal passion.
They broke apart guiltily springing to their feet at the sound of Mamma’s voice.
“Refreshment, carissimi.” She entered the room carrying a tray of coffee and an assortment of tiny iced cakes. She looked at them. “Oh, you two lovebirds,” she gushed. “Now I was talking to Papa about the guest list.”
“Guest list,” Glory repeated dully. Like it was a sworn statement she could make no sense of.
Where would it all end? What was to happen now that Mamma expected them to marry? She needed time to sort things out. Plan a definite course of action, a retreat with all bugles blowing.
“I think you’re overwhelming Glory,” Edoardo interrupted. “Let’s have a drink and discuss the wedding plans tomorrow, va bene, Mamma?”
“Si. Papa, champagne to celebrate,” Mamma chorused cheerfully. “I am so excited. You will come shopping with me tomorrow, cara, and we can discuss the wedding plans?” she said. “Oh, there are a thousand things to do before the wedding.”
“Mamma, we didn’t want too much fuss,” Edoardo said hopefully.
Her fingers fiddled with the lizard brooch. “It will be simple, I promise you,” she said evenly but determinedly, “but it will have class. After all, Edoardo, you will become Mayor of Melbourne.”
“Well, that’s debatable,” he said with mirth. “I’ve got some strong opponents.”
“You shall be mayor,” his mother intoned, “and it shall be the society wedding of the year.”
And with those words Glory’s worst nightmares stood up and shook hands.
He winked. He actually winked at her over Mamma’s head. What was with this bloke? He was the one screaming and yelling that he didn’t want to get married, that marriage, home and kids was the last on his life’s agenda. That he preferred the bachelor life and his little black book of who’s who in his vast female kingdom.
He seemed, well, content, pleased with himself, smug even. What was going on behind those sea-blue eyes? What devilish plan was Edoardo plotting and, worse still, how did it include her?
For the first time in her life, Glory suffered the ghastly sensation of claustrophobia. She glanced around warily. The walls were closing in on her, and the room seemed as though it was as small as a broom closet cluttered with cleaning implements.
As her eyes searched for a fire escape, she caught the amused look on Edoardo’s face, and the first true feeling of dislike for him entered her body.
She had to get out of this room or she may do something she would regret for the rest of her life, like knock Edoardo senseless.
Edoardo handed them their glasses. “To the four of us,” he said raising his glass.
“The four of us,” Mamma and Papa toasted.
Their eyes rested on Glory, as if they expected her to say something wildly wonderful. She raised her glass, gave a diminutive lop-sided smile that gave her, she was positive, the appearance of being slightly demented, and said, “Here, here.”
And with a frantic wave of the glass, drank the champagne in one, long draught.
CHAPTER SIX
They didn’t say much on the long drive home. Both, Glory imagined, busy with their thoughts and how they could handle Mamma Pisani, the wedding planner.
Even though she’d often imagined what it would be like married to Edoardo, when his mother had gone into full blast about the wedding, Glory had been, well, stunned.
Her dream had been of Edoardo declaring his never-ending love for her, and beseeching her to marry him and make him a happy and content man.
Glory had accepted long ago that that would never happen.
Edoardo pulled up outside her apartment, switched off the engine and turned to her.
His face was clouded so she couldn’t ascertain how he was feeling. She was sure he wasn’t pleased the way things had gone with his mother.
“Are you angry?” he said at last. When she didn’t answer, he reached out and took her hand, rubbing it like she was an historical heroine who was suddenly light-headed. “Glory, let’s talk about it.” Patting her hand now. “Are you upset?”
She wasn’t angry, she was gobsmacked. “Angry, no way. Edoardo, I’m totally freaked out.”
She shuffled uneasily in her seat, a prickly sensation in the hand he was patting. Awkwardly, she withdrew her hand from his. No touching, evermore for any reason whatsoever was now her not-to-be-changed mantra.
They would remain exactly what this started out to be, colleagues helping each other out of tight spots, and when it was over and Edoardo was Mayor of Melbourne — as she was positive he would be as he was perfect for the role — they would resume their working relationship and tra-la things would go on as before.
Wouldn’t they?
“I understand completely where Mamma is coming from,” she answered circumspectly. “She wants her son married and happy, especially after your disastrous marriage. And she wants grandchildren.” She sighed. “All mothers want that for their sons. It’s only natural.”
“I’ve told her over and over that I’ll never marry again. It’s like talking to a glass of water. She knows how unhappy both Sophia and I were. Knows what I went through.” His brows drew together in an agonised expression. “And yet, she seems hell-bent on putting me through all that torture again.”
“She doesn’t see it the way you do,” Glory placated. “Because she’s so happy with Papa she thinks everyone should be married. She’d rationalise that something weird was wrong with Sophia, not with you.” She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I sort of think the same way,” she said with a forced laugh.
“What?” A devilish look came into his eyes. “That something’s wrong with Sophia?”
“No, not that,” she said, irritated by his mocking tone. “You know what I mean.”
“You really want the marriage scene, don’t you?” he said, his blue eyes challenging.
She wanted to tell him how much she wanted a family of her own. How much it would mean to her to have someone to love and protect. But she doubted that he would understand. He’d fob her off as a incurable romantic or worse a dreamer of impossible dreams.
“Only when I meet my own Prince Charming,” she said. A fine chill threaded through her as she wished she could retract the self-indulgent words. Whatever would Edoardo think of her now?
“The Prince Charming complex?” He chuckled softly, not in a malicious way, almost as if he understood where she was coming from. “Astride his white horse, ready to sweep his princess up and take her far away to his castle in the sky.” He reached out to touch her cheek. “You can be such a mixture at times. One moment you’re as smart and realistic as the earth itself, and the next you’re rambling on about love coming on a white steed.”
She pulled away from his touch as exasperation pinched her. “I meant it as a metaphor,” she explained and wondered why the hell she was. He’d never understand her. Never know where she was coming from. And that was okay as she couldn’t work him out either. Good balance keeping the see-saw even all the way along.
He studied her, and then said, surprising her, “I know what you meant and I truly hope you’ll find him. This Prince Charming of yours.”
He gazed at her and there was something unsettlingly sensual in the look, as if he hungered for her. “You deserve the best and I say that sincerely.”
She didn’t know how to answer Edoardo, she was quite dumb-founded at his answer, his complete understanding of what she was about.
“Thanks for going along with Mamma. You
made her feel good.”
“You allowed things to go too far,” she admonished gently. “Your mother thinks … expects us to marry.” She managed a smile. “Tomorrow she’ll buy me a wedding dress, order the flowers, and book the church.”
Glory gave Edoardo a steady look. “She’s so desperate for a daughter and grand-children, she’ll most probably buy heaps of maternity clothes, a layette, and a baby rattle,” she ended worriedly. “I don’t want your mum hurt in any of this, Edoardo. I couldn’t handle that.”
“I’ve no intentions of getting married, Glory,” he said firmly.
Glory blew out a breath. “Then tell Mamma just that before it gets out of hand.” Her hand reached out to touch his shoulder. She drew it back, and tucked it firmly under her legs.
His eyes connected with hers and a bolt jarred her heart. She lowered her eyes. She’d discovered that she couldn’t stare into his eyes for very long it made her dizzy.
“She means well,” he said earnestly, “but she didn’t understand. I’ll gently put her right.” He paused as if considering what to say next. “You’re everything she hoped my girl would be.”
“So nice of you to say so,” she said and grinned cheekily at him. She straightened in her seat and drew her lower lip under her teeth. “And when this atypical situation is over, what then, Edoardo?” she asked. “Will everything go back to normal? Can we still work together? Pretend that this never happened?”
“Of course we can,” he threw away. “We’re professional enough not to allow personal issues interfere with work ethics.”
He gave her a shrewd look. “The way things are going, you’ll end up a partner in the practice. I don’t want to lose you, Glory. You’re too important to m — the practice,” he amended quickly.
Had she heard those words before this shambles started, how excited she would have been, but now, she didn’t know, she just didn’t know.
He smiled that oh so very very sexy smile, his eyes dark and glittery.
“You think me that good,” she finally said with an odd twinge of disappointment.
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