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Giovanni’s handsome features were flushed under his dark skin as he spoke. ‘It is very difficult for me, as a man meeting new friends who might…’ and Emily interrupted before he could go on.
‘Oh, I get it!’ she said hotly. ‘Beware of gold-digging females, is that it, Giovanni? Well! I’m surprised that it’s taken you all this time to realize that I couldn’t care less what you own, or who you are, or what your background is!’ Emily felt her anger rising with every second that passed, and now Giovanni half stood up, leaning across the table to put his face closer to hers.
‘It took me no time at all to know what sort of woman you are, Emily,’ he said harshly, ‘but I have been wrong…hurt…disenchanted…before. And I have hurt other people, too. It is so…difficult.’ He sat down again heavily, and went on more quietly. ‘I have been so sure of you, so reassured, from almost the first moment I met you, and yes, while I’m on the subject, I do believe in love at first sight, because I love you, Emily, more deeply than I can express…and don’t look at me like that, because I mean every word of what I’m saying! But I wanted to make you love me—if that were possible—for myself. And for no other reason. I wanted you to love me, like me, want to be with me as much as I want to be with you. And for nothing—nothing—to get in our way, in the way of our happiness.’ He paused for a moment, gazing at Emily with such uninhibited ardour that it made her senses reel. He was sweeping her off her feet—making her feel dizzy. And, in spite of all her reservations, she knew that she could be in imminent danger of admitting her love for him, too! She’d been trying to deny her feelings for weeks, trying to talk herself out of wanting to be near him, and it had been getting more difficult with each day that passed.
Shakily, she picked up her coffee and sipped for a moment, knowing that he was waiting for some response from her, but, despite the obvious sincerity of his words, Emily felt ruffled and hurt. He had been testing her, judging her all this time, sizing her up—presumably as a possible wife! That made her feel small and silly. She stared across at him, her mind so churned up with a myriad emotions she thought she was going to be sick. Why had she agreed to come here this weekend? All her instincts had warned her against it—but Giovanni Boselli was used to getting what he wanted. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. She was here now—nothing could alter that—and she wouldn’t embarrass everyone-embarrass herself—by sulking or being difficult. She wouldn’t spoil Maria’s party. But she still wasn’t sure how to handle this, how to handle Giovanni and what he’d just told her. It was all too much—much too much.
‘I think I must go to bed now, Giovanni,’ she said slowly. ‘Do you mind if we continue our…discussion…some other time?’
Much later the following evening, after an amazing display of fireworks had concluded the festivities and the last guest had departed, Emily stood alone in her room, her head bursting. She’d never before been to a party like it!
Earlier in the day Giovanni had taken his mother and Emily out for a long drive, taking them miles into the countryside, ostensibly for a relaxing time in remote villages to browse, and to have coffee and lunch. And when they’d arrived back home just before seven o’clock, what a sight had met their eyes! The place had been trans—formed into a film set! Coloured lights had swayed from every tree, huge displays of fresh flowers graced every corner of the huge patio, and already masses of people—all beautifully dressed for the occasion—had gathered around, waiting to greet Maria. Emily had wondered whether Maria would be overwhelmed by this totally unexpected celebration, but from the expression in her eyes as she’d hugged her son excitedly and then went on to embrace all her friends, no one need have worried. Maria had been in her element.
Presently, Emily and Maria had gone upstairs to their rooms to change before soon rejoining the gathering outside. A small band had already taken up position on an elevated corner of the area and soon medleys of current popular songs had added to the noisy gaiety, while uniformed caterers moved among the crowd with trays of mouth-watering canapés. There were so many guests, more arriving every few minutes, that Emily had difficulty keeping up with it all, and it was hard for Giovanni to be everywhere at once, though he had introduced her to as many people as he could. Left by herself for a moment, Emily had searched around the milling crowds, hoping to see that beautiful face in the photograph somewhere, that special someone, but she couldn’t spot her anywhere. But—she had to be one of the guests, surely, the girl had thought…It stood to reason.
Now, before she got ready for bed, Emily took from her case the daintily wrapped present she’d brought for Maria—who’d received so many presents at the party tonight she must have lost count, the girl thought—but Emily had decided she’d wait until tomorrow, Monday, the actual birthday, before giving it to her. She bit her lip thoughtfully, hoping it would be deemed good enough for Maria. The woman’s other gifts would have been fabulously expensive, judging by the obviously wealthy guests. The present Emily was holding in her hand was one of her own small framed water-colours, and it pictured a goose leading a line of tiny goslings along a wooded path towards a pond in the background. She smiled now, as she remembered the occasion when she and Coral had come across the little feathered family. It had been on a warm afternoon out that they’d enjoyed together a year ago, and Emily had committed the scene to memory before getting around to painting it. And, unusually for her, she had been pleased with the result.
Slowly, she undressed and got into bed, thinking what a strange day it had been. Surreal, almost. She had spent the entire time with Giovanni, yet neither of them had referred to their conversation of last night. Well, Maria had been there too, which of course would have made it difficult but, even so, it was almost as if their discussion hadn’t taken place. Every now and then she caught Giovanni looking at her, but she deliberately didn’t want to catch his eye…She still felt totally bewildered at being here with this family—this renowned family—with its fabulously rich heir apparently wanting to make her part of it…and she still couldn’t get her head around it all. He had said, with such conviction, that he loved her…But Marcus had been good at that kind of thing, too, she remembered. She turned over impatiently. She shouldn’t have agreed to come. She should have listened to her inner self.
Later, much later, Emily drew herself up to a sitting position in quiet desperation. At this rate, she was never going to get to sleep, she thought, as she rested her head on her bent knees for a moment. She seemed to have been tossing and turning for ever. Everything that had gone on during the party, the loud conversation all around, the insistent beat of the music, the shrieks of uninhibited laughter and the general carnival atmosphere which Italians seemed so good at enjoying, had left Emily wide awake. Not to mention everything Giovanni had said to her when they’d been alone. But the eerie silence now, after all the noise, was making it worse…Was everyone else in the whole world fast asleep? If so, why wasn’t she?
She switched on the lamp beside her and glanced at her watch. Three o’clock! Still a long time to go before morning. Getting out of bed, she went across to the bathroom and poured herself a glass of water. Well, that might go some way towards eradicating the effect of all the champagne she’d had.
She took a long drink, then, after a moment, went over to the window and quietly drew back the shutters, gazing out at the now familiar scene. It was simply perfect here, she thought, the now subdued lighting casting strange shadows all around, the water in the pool moving gently as the breeze ruffled its surface. Emily took in all the details in her usual observant way…One day, she might like to paint all that she was seeing.
Suddenly, her attention was caught by the sight of two figures strolling onto the patio, their arms entwined, their faces close together, and Emily hurriedly drew back…It was Giovanni and that woman! The woman in the picture! It just had to be—even though in the dim light it was hard to be certain…But, yes, it was her…and she was looking up at Giovanni, who was murmuring softly into
her ear, his lips caressing her face in the sort of intimate, unhurried manner of an attentive lover.
Emily’s mouth had gone completely dry as she stood unashamedly watching them, and she realized that her legs were trembling slightly. But why? Wasn’t this to be expected? These two were well-known to each other—very well-known! And what difference did it make to her, anyway? It just proved what she’d known all along—Giovanni Boselli liked women, full stop! And in the plural! Emily suddenly felt a wave of anger engulf her as she continued watching…Now the two were sitting, half concealed by a large shrub, but what they were doing was clear enough! The woman’s head was resting on Giovanni’s shoulder and he was holding her tenderly…whispering so tenderly…and, with a start of genuine surprise, Emily knew that she was feeling upset and jealous! Jealous of a two-timing character she wouldn’t trust as far as she could throw! The man who only a few hours ago had professed his love for her, Emily Sinclair! Had given her all that drivel about wanting to make her love him as much as he loved her! Well, he must think she was born yesterday!
She stood back and closed the shutters softly, only just stopping herself from bursting into tears. What the hell was the matter with her? She didn’t want Giovanni, no thank you! So why was she feeling so…so…completely bewildered-and so devastated?
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHEN she woke the following morning, Emily felt tired and dispirited. If only she were home now, she thought, in their unprepossessing little flat that had no marble staircases or swimming pools or olive groves—and no Giovanni Boselli, either.
But she still had almost a day to get through before their flight, a day in which she must appear normal and friendly and happy to be here. How could she be happy, when all she could think of was seeing those two cuddling up, right there in front of her in the early hours?
It was nine o’clock when she went downstairs and, going towards the long room where the formal dinner had been served, she could hear Giovanni and his mother talking. They both looked up as she entered, Giovanni immediately coming over to greet her.
‘Buon giorno, signorina,’ he murmured, looking down at her in his special way, and Emily felt like punching him.
‘Oh, hello…Giovanni,’ she said coolly, deliberately stepping away from him. ‘Good morning, and a very happy birthday, Maria,’ she added as Maria beckoned Emily to come and sit beside her at the table, which was laid for breakfast.
‘Good morning, Emily,’ Maria said. ‘And thank you. Wasn’t it a wonderful party? And I had no idea! Giovanni is too good to his mother!’ She paused. ‘You are looking very pretty this morning, Emily—and what an exquisite dress you were wearing last night! It looked as if it had been made just for you! You must know exactly where to shop.’
‘Thank you,’ Emily replied, thinking—if only you knew!
‘You have very good taste,’ Maria went on, ‘and, by the way—did you ever manage to rescue that summer dress—the one with all the blood and dirt on it? I’m afraid I had my doubts.’
Emily smiled briefly as she took her place. ‘No, I’m afraid I have to keep it for lounging around at home, or in the garden,’ she said. ‘You can still see the stains, though they’re a bit fainter.’
‘The main thing is,’ Giovanni said mildly, ‘that the young lady in question was not as badly hurt as it looked at the time.’ He paused. ‘I checked up at the hospital a couple of days later, and she’s going to be fine.’
Rather shyly, Emily reached into her handbag and took out Maria’s present.
‘This is just a small gift, Maria,’ she said. ‘I’m afraid it’s not likely to compete with all the amazing presents you were opening last night, but…I do wish you many happy returns of the day.’ She placed it beside Maria, who immediately started untying the dainty ribbon. She looked at Emily shrewdly.
‘You should never apologize when presenting someone with a gift,’ Maria said. ‘There was no need for you to bring me anything, but thank you…I know I shall like it very much.’
Slowly, she undid the flimsy wrapping paper and took out the picture…and the expression on her face needed no explanation, her small gasp of pleasure as she studied the painting telling its own story. ‘This is…so…beautiful…’ she said quietly, obviously touched, and Giovanni broke in.
‘Is that one of yours, Emily?’ he asked eagerly, bending over to gaze at it.
‘Yes—it was a little scene which Coral and I came across when we were out walking one day—this lovely mother goose taking all her babies down to the water for a swim.’ She smiled. ‘A painting is never as good as the real thing, of course, but I thought this was getting close.’
‘It’s really good—isn’t it, Mamma? I told you about Emily’s paintings…It is professional—don’t you agree?’
For a few moments Maria said nothing, but continued studying the picture. When she looked up at Emily, her eyes were moist.
‘This…gift…outshines anything else I may have received,’ she said, ‘because it is not only a delight to look at, but also it must have taken many hours to achieve this standard.’ She shook her head briefly. ‘Thank you very much, carissima. It shall be a most treasured possession.’
Somehow, the last few minutes had helped Emily restore something of her good spirits—not just because it was obvious that Maria was genuinely thrilled with the painting, but it reminded the girl that there was so much more to life than finding a partner, finding love, daring to trust. Happiness existed in so many other ways, too. When she got home, she would make much more time for her painting, she decided.
They finished their breakfast, with Emily purposely not looking at Giovanni or catching his eye, but merely contributing to the desultory conversation, and Giovanni was only too aware of her coolness. Still, it didn’t bother him too much. He knew what women could be like at times…Wasn’t that part of their allure?
Presently, Maria stood up and touched Emily’s arm. ‘Let me show you around the place,’ she said pleasantly. ‘I know there has not been time for you to investigate…and a walk in the cloisters will do me good, anyway—I’m afraid I drank a little too much wine last night!’
Giovanni stood as well. ‘That’s a good idea, Mamma,’ he said easily, willing Emily to look at him—which she didn’t, ‘and I can sort out that paperwork you showed me yesterday. It shouldn’t take me too long,’ he added, ‘but Emily and I will need an early lunch—I want to leave here about three o’clock, if that’s OK.’
Maria nodded. ‘Margherita knows about lunch,’ she said briefly.
Presently, Maria led Emily through the courtyard towards the entrance to the cloisters. It was a lovely morning, though the season was no longer very warm, and Maria glanced approvingly at Emily’s wrap, which she’d tied loosely around her shoulders. Maria smiled, touching it with her fingers.
‘I said you had very good taste,’ she said. ‘Do you like this? It is one of ours, of course.’
Emily smiled back. ‘It is my favourite wrap,’ she said simply. ‘All my friends are envious of it, and I…just love it. My father gave it to me,’ she added.
‘We have sold many like it,’ Maria said. ‘It is always good when a garment meets such general approval,’ she added. ‘And you wear it so well, Emily…casually, lovingly, just as it should be worn.’
They reached the cloisters, and now quite a cold draught greeted them as they began their stroll. Maria tucked her arm into Emily’s.
‘Do you have plans for your future, Emily?’ she asked bluntly, and Emily was almost caught off guard, remembering Maria’s rather straight way of talking.
‘Oh, well…yes…sort of,’ she replied guardedly. ‘I hope to do more travelling—for the firm—because it is helping to boost my confidence. And…I’d like to have more time for my painting, of course—but that’s a pipe dream, I’m afraid. And I enjoy making things. I make curtains for my father when he needs them—though I shan’t be doing that again,’ she added.
‘Oh? Why is that?’
‘Do you mind—that he is to marry again?’ Maria asked.
‘Oh, no, of course not!’ Emily replied at once. ‘It was wonderful to see him so…relaxed. And Alice seems a very nice woman indeed. I’m sure they can be happy together. And that’ll make me happy.’
‘So—what about you, yourself, I mean?’ Maria persisted. ‘Will you marry, too, one day?’
‘Sometimes I think I will, and at other times I think the opposite,’ Emily replied, surprised at how comfortable she felt talking to Maria. And that made her bold enough to ask a question of her own. ‘What about Giovanni?’ she said lightly. ‘He, too, is still single.’ She looked away for a second, then, ‘Who is the girl in that photograph—the one in his flat, Maria? She is very beautiful…and obviously someone very special to Giovanni.’
Maria pursed her lips for a second. ‘Ah, yes—that is a picture of Paulina,’ she said quietly. ‘My son’s wife…’
If she’d been struck by lightning, Emily couldn’t have felt more shocked. The woman was his wife? A wife who he still loved, obviously…Their behaviour in the semidarkness last night had said it all. ‘Oh…’ she said faintly. ‘I had no idea that Giovanni was married.’ Was she going mad…what was going on? Had she dreamed all those things he’d said to her the other night?