by Sarah Morgan
Fia saw the emotion in Cristiano’s eyes. ‘Of course,’ he said softly. ‘I am your papà. Where else would I be but by your side?’ He smiled at Fia with genuine warmth. ‘Welcome. And thank you for that spectacular cake. It was very thoughtful of you to make her something so special.’
It was a crazy, happy afternoon and when it came to bedtime Luca chose to sleep in a room with Chiara, Elena and Rosa.
Laurel rolled her eyes in disbelief. ‘I’m so sorry. Are you OK with that? We have ten bedrooms. Don’t ask me why they choose to cram themselves into one.’
‘I think it’s fantastic.’ Fia thought about how lonely she’d been as a child. What she wouldn’t have given to be tucked into a cosy room with three giggling cousins.
‘Truthfully? I think it’s fantastic too. And you don’t need to worry because Cristiano’s aunt is staying the night and she has promised to watch them.’ Laurel gave the children a stern look. ‘Straight to sleep, no nonsense.’
Having issued that edict, they left the room and Fia caught her eye.
‘They’re going to be up all night.’
‘I think you’re right. But the upside is that they might sleep late. And now we need to get ready. This restaurant Cristiano has picked is very elegant. We’re all dying to hear your opinion on the food, although I’m not sure I can eat anything after all that cake. It was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.’
Warmth rushed through her.
She was one of them, she thought.
She was a Ferrara now.
Maybe her marriage wasn’t perfect, but it was still early days and Santo had been making a huge effort. Instead of wishing she could have more, she needed to make the most of what she did have. She needed to try harder. And the first thing she’d do was kick-start their sex life. In the beginning he’d found her irresistible. It was up to her to rekindle that side of their relationship.
Santo was on the terrace drinking with Cristiano and Raimondo, Dani’s husband, so Fia was able to take her time getting ready.
The blue silk dress skimmed her curves and showed off her legs. Maybe she wasn’t as toned as Laurel, she thought as she looked in the mirror, but she ate well and ran around all day so her figure wasn’t bad.
Sliding her feet into stilettos, she picked up her purse and drew in a deep breath.
Not once so far in their relationship had she actually tried to seduce Santo. This was going to be a first.
There was a brief tap and then the door opened and Laurel and Dani stood there.
Dani tipped her head to one side and studied her. ‘Oh, my poor unsuspecting brother. He doesn’t stand a chance.’
With that confidence-boosting comment ringing in her ears, Fia joined them and the three women walked down to the terrace.
Santo had his back to her and nerves fluttered in her stomach as she stared at those broad shoulders.
Cristiano saw them first and immediately broke off the conversation to greet them. Although he was complimentary to all, his eyes were on his wife and Fia felt a stab of envy at the obvious depth of their love.
From the little Santo had told her, that love had held them together through dark times.
Doubt slithered its way into her happiness. What did she and Santo have? Their marriage wasn’t based on anything so powerful, was it? What was going to save them if trouble came their way?
As Dani planted herself in front of Raimondo and waited for him to say the right thing, Santo turned towards Fia.
He was gorgeous, the physical attraction so powerful that Fia caught her breath. And then she noticed that those dark, sexy eyes looked tired.
He wasn’t sleeping either.
‘Hey—’ Dani punched her brother on the arm. ‘Doesn’t Fia look stunning? She is Fia the fantastic. Fia the fabulous. If you don’t say something nice she might just turn into Fia the ferocious so you’d better say the right thing fast. Here’s a hint—something like “let’s forget dinner and just go straight upstairs” would probably go down well.’
Santo rounded on her. ‘You talk too much,’ he snapped and Dani took a step backwards, visibly hurt by the unexpected attack.
Cristiano observed that exchange with narrowed eyes, looking first at his brother and then at Fia, who wanted to do nothing more than just go and join the cosy heap of children upstairs and hide under the covers.
So much for seducing him.
It was clear he just wasn’t interested.
‘We ought to go,’ Laurel said quickly. ‘The limo is waiting. And Fia, I want you to tell me how to cook arancine. Cristiano loves it and every time I try, it’s a dismal failure. I swear his mother still can’t work out why he married me.’
Because he loved her, Fia thought bleakly. And love filled in all the other cracks, like rain on parched earth. She had nothing like that and the cracks in her own marriage were widening. The shaky foundations were splitting apart and soon the entire thing would collapse.
Dani slipped her arm into hers as they walked. ‘I have no idea what’s wrong with Santo,’ she grumbled. ‘I apologise for my brother. Ugh. Men! This is why a woman has to have girlfriends. Let’s talk about something important. I have a party to go to next week. I’m wondering whether to try some of that magnetic nail varnish.’ She chattered away and Fia was grateful for the change of subject and for the nonstop talk that didn’t require her input.
The evening was a success because of the efforts of the others, but somehow those efforts made Fia all the more aware of those widening cracks.
Despite the time she’d taken to look her best, Santo barely glanced at her, instead choosing to talk business with his brother and brother-in-law while Fia felt invisible.
If she still didn’t attract his interest then that was it, wasn’t it?
And if that part of their relationship was over, then the rest of it was over, too.
Whatever he said about marriage being for ever, there was no way a physical guy like Santo would want to stay with a woman he was no longer attracted to.
She was going to be the first Ferrara in history to be granted a divorce.
CHAPTER NINE
‘I’M sorry if you found the weekend overwhelming.’ Santo was formal and polite as they arrived home the following day.
‘I didn’t. Your family is lovely and it was a treat for Luca to spend time with his cousins.’ She kept her voice bright and breezy and was so grateful for Luca, who kept up a running commentary about his cousins.
When Santo’s phone rang, she almost moaned with relief, a feeling that doubled as he told her he was going to have to go straight to his office at the hotel and do a few hours’ work.
And if there was something slightly cagey about the way he was behaving, she told herself that it didn’t matter anyway. Even if he was lying about the work part and was actually seeing a woman, it was irrelevant.
When she made no response, he sighed. ‘I might be late. Don’t wait up for me.’
Of course she wouldn’t wait up for him. He’d made it clear enough that he didn’t want her. ‘No problem at all,’ she said quickly. ‘Luca and I will have a swim in the pool and an early night.’
His mouth tightened and he started to walk away when he appeared to change his mind. He turned, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
‘Fia—’
He was going to tell her that this wasn’t working. He was going to tell her that he wanted a divorce and she would make a fool of herself because she wasn’t ready to hear it yet. She needed to get her head round it. She needed to make plans.
‘Luca, don’t do that!’ Using their son as an excuse, she shot across the terrace and relieved a startled Luca of a toy that was offering no threat whatsoever.
She fussed over him for a few moments and the
n Luca looked past her and his face fell.
‘Papà gone.’
‘Yes,’ Fia whispered. ‘He’s gone. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to do.’
‘Sex,’ Luca said stoutly and she pulled him into a hug.
‘Tried that,’ she croaked. ‘Didn’t work.’
Somehow she stumbled through the day. She and Luca spent some time with her grandfather and then Gina took him back to the villa while Fia worked late at the Beach Shack.
Knowing that all that was waiting for her at home was a huge, empty bed, she was in no hurry to return to the villa. Instead she did something she hadn’t done for years. Not since the night when Luca was conceived.
She went to the boathouse.
The approach took her along the stretch of private beach that belonged to the Ferraras. As a child she would have been guilty of trespassing and she realised with a lurch that she was now walking on her own land.
The main doors opened straight onto the sea, and a side door allowed access from the land. Fia had always slid in through the window, but this time she paused with her hand on the door, wondering whether it was just going to make her feel worse to visit somewhere that held so many emotional memories. It wasn’t an accident that she hadn’t been back here. This had been her escape in bad times.
The moon sent shimmers of light across the calm sea, providing sufficient illumination for her to see what she was doing.
It occurred to her that it would have been sensible to fetch a torch, but she reasoned that she didn’t need a torch to just stare at a collapsing old pile of planks.
The boathouse had been in a state of disrepair for so long that there was always a risk of injury, but as she pulled open the door she noticed that it opened smoothly. No creaks. She slipped quietly inside. In the past her routine had been to simply sit on one of the old lobster pots that were stacked by the door and stare at the water.
Her foot slipped on something soft and she frowned down at the floor. Oil? Fabric of some sort?
She was about to bend down and investigate when the place was suddenly filled with light. Shocked to discover that the place now had electricity, she looked up to see what seemed to be hundreds of tiny fairy lights strung around the walls.
Enchanted, she was just wondering what it all meant when she heard a sound behind her.
Turning quickly, she saw Santo standing there. ‘You weren’t meant to arrive yet.’ His thumbs were hooked into the pockets of his jeans and he looked lean, fit and more handsome than one man had a right to be. ‘I hadn’t quite finished.’
Finished? Confused, Fia glanced around the boathouse, seeing the changes for the first time.
The place had been transformed. Those oily, splintered planks of wood had been sanded and polished. An oil stove nestled in one corner, ready to provide heat for chilly winter evenings and in another corner was a sofa, heaped with cushions and a fur rug.
It was the cosiest, most decadent place she’d ever seen. The tiny lights twisted along the walls made the place feel like a magical grotto.
She took a step forward and again felt the softness underfoot. Glancing down, she saw rose petals. Rose petals that formed a red carpet, not towards the bed, but towards a little table. And on the table was a small, beautifully wrapped box.
Heart beating, she looked at that box and then at Santo.
‘Open it.’ He hadn’t moved from the doorway, the expression in his eyes cautious, as if he weren’t sure of his welcome.
‘You’ve—’ She looked around her, noticing a million thoughtful little touches, like the little seat that had been placed by the doors to the water. The place she’d always sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, watching the sea. Instead of an upturned box, there was a rocking chair. ‘You did this?’
‘I know how unhappy you are and I know that when you’re unhappy you need somewhere to go and be by yourself. I’d rather you didn’t feel the need to escape from me but if you do then I want you to be comfortable.’
Her eyes filled. ‘Our marriage isn’t working.’
‘I know that, and I suppose it isn’t surprising in the circumstances.’ His voice was uncertain. ‘I have so many things to apologise for I don’t know where to start.’
It wasn’t the response she’d expected. ‘You could start by telling me why the place is covered in rose petals.’
He ran his hand over the back of his neck. ‘Remembering the night of our wedding still shames me. As long as I live I will never be able to delete the image of you on your knees sweeping up rose petals I’d so thoughtlessly had put down. I hurt your feelings badly.’
‘I just thought it was mocking our relationship. It wasn’t romantic. It was never romantic.’ The tears sat in her throat and didn’t move. ‘Those rose petals—’
‘—were a manipulation on my part, I admit that. But I was manipulating the minds of those around us, not mocking you. That interpretation didn’t occur to me until I walked in and found you on your knees clearing them up. You once accused me of being an insensitive bastard and I am thoroughly guilty of that charge. But it was insensitivity rooted in thoughtlessness, not in a conscious desire to hurt you. I put these down myself, by hand. That’s why they’re not even in a straight line. I’ve never done it before.’
‘Why did you do it now?’ He still didn’t get it, she thought numbly. Rose petals were a romantic gesture.
‘I was trying to make you happy. I wanted you to smile,’ he said thickly, every plane of his body rigid with tension. ‘You smile with Luca all the time and I love it when you laugh. You never do that with me. You’re always jumpy and on edge and that is probably my fault.’ He spread his hands in a gesture of frustration and despair. ‘But I do want you to be happy. What do I have to do?’
Fia felt tears scald her eyes and this time they refused to retreat. She swallowed, but they kept coming, brimming in her eyes and then spilling over onto her cheeks.
Santo swore under his breath and strode forward, folding her in his arms so tightly that she couldn’t breathe. ‘Cristo, I have never, ever seen you cry. If the petals are going to upset you that much I’ll clear them up again. Please, please don’t cry. I’m trying really hard to please you but if I’m still getting it wrong then just tell me and I’ll fix it.’
The ache in Fia’s chest increased. ‘I appreciate it, honestly, but you don’t have to try this hard. It’s horribly, horribly humiliating when I know that we’re heading for divorce.’
He paled. ‘A divorce? No! I will not agree to a divorce, but I’ll agree to anything else you want. I know you don’t love me, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be happy.’
‘It isn’t me who wants a divorce, it’s you! And I do love you, that’s the problem.’ The words broke from her like waves onto a rock, eroding the barriers she’d built between them. ‘In a way I’ve always loved you. Part of me fell in love with you when I watched you teach your sister to swim. You were so patient with her. I had fantasies that Roberto would do that for me but all he ever did was hold me under the water. I loved you when you let me use the boathouse for a bolt-hole and didn’t tell anyone. I loved you that night when you touched my shoulder because you knew I was upset and I still loved you when we made love.’ The sobs made her almost incoherent. ‘And I loved you when I married you. I have always loved you.’
For a moment there was no sound but his uneven breathing and the soft lap of the water against the wood of the boathouse.
‘You love me? But…I forced you to marry me.’ His voice was hoarse. Stunned and decidedly uncertain. ‘I bullied you.’
‘And that was when I loved you most of all,’ she hiccuped. ‘My mother gave birth to me but apparently that wasn’t enough of a bond to stop her from leaving me. You didn’t even know Luca but you knew he was your son and that w
as enough for you. You were willing to do anything for him simply because he was family. You have no idea how much I wish my parents had shown me even a fraction of that commitment. For your child’s sake you were even prepared to marry a woman you didn’t love, not just any woman but a Baracchi. And you were prepared to do anything to make it work.’
‘Forget that—’ his hands gripped her arms ‘—is it true that you love me? You’re not just saying that for Luca’s sake?’
‘I wish I were, because then this would be easy instead of really, really hard.’
‘Why is it hard?’
‘Because it’s so hard to love someone who doesn’t love you back.’
He cursed softly and cupped her face in his hands. ‘You think I don’t love you? What do you think the past few weeks have been about? I’ve been falling over myself to please you.’
‘I know. You were working really hard at it and that was actually quite crushing.’
‘Cristo, you are making no sense at all.’ He made an impatient sound and gave her a little shake. ‘How is it crushing that I worked hard to please you?’
‘Because it didn’t come naturally. You were doing it for Luca.’
His hands fell to his sides. He stared at her.
‘Clearly we have misunderstood each other badly.’
‘We have?’
‘I had no idea you loved me. And you clearly have no idea how much I love you.’
Fia stared at him and her heart rate doubled. Hope bloomed as he slid his hands into her hair and took her mouth in a slow, erotic kiss. She wanted to ask him if she’d heard him correctly but it had been so long since he’d kissed her like this, she didn’t want him to stop.
He lifted his mouth from hers with obvious reluctance. ‘How could you ever think I’d want a divorce?’
‘We stopped having sex.’
‘I was so conscious that I’d forced you into this marriage and then you made those comments about me being insatiable—’
‘I liked you being insatiable,’ she muttered. ‘When you stopped I assumed it was because you were bored with me, so I chose an especially sexy dress last night and you didn’t even look at me.’