by Sara Craven
course,’ she added with a shiver. ‘I tried to talk Raf out of it, believe me. Said if he wanted to take you on a second
honeymoon, the Bahamas would be a safer bet, but he was adamant. And here you are, so maybe it works its magic all
the year round.’
She paused. ‘Did he cook for you while you were there’
Emily stared at her. ‘Raf can cook’ she asked in astonishment.
Fiona rolled her eyes expressively. ‘He’s one of these seriously aggravating men who can throw a few ingredients into a
pan and come up with a gourmet meal.’ She gave a naughty giggle. ‘But maybe—on honeymoon—he had better ways of
spending his time.’
She saw Emily flush and looked remorseful. ‘Oh, Lord, now I’ve embarrassed you. My big mouth. I’m really sorry.’
‘No, really. It’s fine,’ Emily hastened to assure her. ‘Besides, I suspect I may need to grow an extra skin or two, anyway
over the next few weeks.’ She hesitated. ‘You must have wondered…’
‘No,’ Fiona said instantly, then pulled a face. ‘Well, yes, we have—naturally. I mean—to be honest—when we first saw
you, we couldn’t get over how very young you seemed to be coping with marriage—especially to someone like Raf.’
Emily bit her lip. ‘But I didn’t cope,’ she said quietly. ‘Not even marginally.’ She paused. ‘Has he never said…’
‘He’s said nothing. And, frankly, we’ve never dared ask.’ Fiona smiled ruefully. ‘Raf doesn’t encourage speculation
about his private life, not even when he and Marcello have been off on one of their lads’ hunting trips to Umbria. And I’m
not here to probe either.’
She looked a trifle awkward. ‘Of course, when Raf mentioned a second honeymoon, we did hope that things might have
changed.’ She shook her head. ‘He’s always seemed so—alone.’
Emily looked away. ‘Please,’ she said with difficulty, ‘you don’t have to spare my feelings. I’m under no illusion about
his—lifestyle. And Raf’s never pretended that he’s been—lonely.’
There was a silence, then Fiona said gently, ‘I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing at all. But, as I have no right
to be discussing this anyway, I’ll shut up and leave you in peace.’
She reached for her bag. ‘I just wanted to welcome you, and to let you know I’m only a phone call away. I also know a
good language teacher when you decide to take the plunge, and it helps, believe me. Besides, I think Raf would really
appreciate it if you did learn Italian.
‘We’ll give you a few days to find your feet,’ she added buoyantly. ‘Then we’ll be pestering you to have dinner with us.’
She smiled warmly, gave Emily a reassuring pat and vanished as quickly as she’d arrived.
Emily spent the rest of the day exploring the entire house and noting all the changes that had been made. They must have
taken a long time, she thought, and Raf had clearly begun them when he was still intending to divorce her.
So they weren’t planned for my sake, she thought unhappily, but for someone very different.
He hadn’t stinted anywhere either, she told herself as she stood in the dining room, admiring the expertly restored frescos.
The whole place seemed infinitely lighter and even more spacious than she remembered. It was as if heavy shutters had
suddenly been flung back, allowing the sunlight to pour into a dark and shadowed room.
I could have been so happy here, if only…
Tears tightened her throat, but she swallowed them back resolutely.
Because there was no point in wishing for what she could not have. Or in regretting that when Raf had come to her
bedroom on that night three years ago she’d not been able to overcome her nervousness and total lack of confidence
enough to smile at him—or hold out her hand. Or say—something—anything—however shy or silly, to indicate that he
was welcome to stay. Instead…
Treating me as if I was a monster.
His own harsh words, only a few hours ago, showing he had not forgotten either.
But once he’d walked away, she thought wretchedly, it had seemed impossible—unthinkable—to call him back. And so
much easier to go into denial about everything she felt for him. To pretend that the love—and the need—did not exist.
And never would.
A pretence she would now have to sustain for whatever was left of their marriage.
When all I truly want to do is fall on my knees and beg him to love me, she thought, wrapping her arms round her body to
stem the tide of desolation that was threatening to overwhelm her.
Because she knew that it was all much too late.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT WASan hour later when Raf returned.
Emily was seated at her dressing table, brushing her hair, when she became aware of a sudden stir, as if the house was
waking up to its master’s arrival. She heard his voice asking an imperious question and mentally braced herself, knowing
that he would come in search of her.
And, only a moment later, he appeared in the doorway behind her and stood leaning against the frame, watching her in
silence.
‘Oh, hi.’ Emily tried for nonchalance. ‘Have—have you had a good day’Did you meet Valentina Were you together in
your apartment
His dark face relaxed into a sudden smile and, in spite of everything, she felt her heart miss a beat. ‘It has been
interesting,mia cara ,’ he drawled. ‘Why do you ask’
‘Isn’t that what wives are supposed to ask—when their husbands come home from the office’
‘How would I know’ He gave a faint shrug. ‘I have never had a wife before.’
He walked across the room, removing his jacket and tossing it on to the bed, then took the brush from her, putting it
aside. His hands descended to her shoulders as the hazel eyes met hers watchfully in the mirror. ‘But, as you have asked,’
he went on softly, ‘I found concentration difficult, because I was thinking about you.’
He bent, letting his lips brush her cheek. ‘Tell me,carissima , have I been forgiven’
‘For what’ she asked with faint breathlessness.
‘For once again forcing you to have sex with me when you did not wish to do so.’
Her hesitation was momentary. She said softly, ‘I think we both know that isn’t true.’ And turned, offering him her mouth.
His kiss was deep and lingering, but when at last he raised his head it was to run a rueful hand round his chin.
‘I must not damage your beautiful skin. Come and talk with me while I shave,carissima .’
She followed him into the bathroom, clicking her tongue as she rescued his rapidly discarded shirt and tie from the floor
on the way.
‘You were never so untidy at the cottage.’
He was unrepentant. ‘But I had no staff at the cottage to wait on me. Here it is different.’
‘And you didn’t tell me you could cook.’
‘Ah,’ he said, ‘Fiona has been talking to you. Telling my secrets.’
But none that really matter…
She sat on the broad tiled rim of the bath as he applied the foam to his face, watching the play of muscle under the
smooth skin of his back.
‘On the subject of staff,’ she said carefully. ‘Must I really have a maid’
‘I fear so.’ Raf picked up a razor. ‘You are going to lead a busy life here,mia bella , and you may have to change your
clothes several times a day. You need someone to keep your wardrobe in order and advise you on what to wear for your
various engagements.’ He paused. ‘And I understand the girl is
well-qualified, with excellent references.’
And looks as if she’s permanently sucking a lemon, Emily thought, sighing soundlessly.
‘I have also arranged for you to have a personal driver,’ he went on, removing the lather with long, expert strokes. ‘His
name is Stefano, and you will meet him tomorrow.’
Emily gasped. ‘Is that strictly necessary’
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Or I would not employ him. It is a security measure,mia bella .’
She bent her head. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier and cheaper just to send me home’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Think what it would cost in time and money for me to fly to England each time I wished to make love to
you.’ He paused. ‘And for the present, Emilia, this is your home.’ There was a warning edge to his voice. ‘Try to
remember that.’
For the present…
‘So,’ he went on, ‘did you like Marcello’s Fiona’
Emily pulled herself back from the edge of sadness. ‘Yes, she was lovely.’ Her smile was involuntary. ‘It was kind of you
to arrange it.’
‘I thought meeting a fellow Briton might make your exile easier to bear,’ he said drily. He cleaned his razor and dried his
face, then walked over to her, lifting her to her feet. ‘Thank me, then,’ he whispered.
He bent, rubbing his newly smooth cheek gently against hers, and she moved closer, pressing herself against him, her lips
already parting for his kiss.
As his mouth caressed hers, his hand sought the swell of her breast, stroking the nipple with tender expertise, making her
catch her breath in swift, irresistible pleasure.
He murmured her name and pulled her nearer still, his hands sliding down to her hips, so that her body ground against his.
At the same time, she felt his lips burning on her breast through the thin wool of her sweater.
But, even as her body responded with its first voluptuous shiver of desire to the implicit demand of his touch, she heard a
faint sound.
Raf heard it too, freezing instantly, his head turning sharply towards the open bathroom door, and, as Emily followed his
gaze, she saw Apollonia standing there, holding an armful of clean towels as she stared at them.
Raf’s hands fell away and he said something quiet and violent under his breath, before striding over to the girl, taking the
towels and dropping them to the floor, then grasping her elbow and marching her out of the room.
Emily could hear him speaking low furious Italian all the way across the bedroom until finally its door slammed and he
returned alone, his face still set and angry.
‘She goes,’ he said flatly. ‘As soon as her replacement can be found.’ He paused. ‘What was the name you said’
‘Apollonia.’ To her own surprise, Emily felt a pang of compunction for the girl whose dream job was over almost before
it had begun. ‘Raf—isn’t that a little hasty She made a mistake. It—it could have been worse.’
‘Why, yes,’ he said, with a touch of grimness. ‘She could have walked in without knocking five minutes later. And I have
no wish to find her standing over us while I am making love to you, Emilia.’
‘I think you already made that clear,’ she said ruefully. ‘But in the past she’s worked for old ladies who live alone. Maybe
she’s not used to—men in bedrooms.’
‘Particularly her own,indubbiamente ,’ Raf said sourly.
‘That’s not very kind,’ Emily rebuked him with severity.
‘She is hardly decorative,’ he said, frowning a little. ‘And it seems to me that I have thought that before, although I cannot
at present remember when or where.’ He slid an arm round her waist. ‘Perhaps I shall feel more charitable after dinner.’
They were sipping theiraperitivos in thesalotto when Gaspare came in looking glum. Preparations for dinner had
completely halted, he announced, because the girl Apollonia was weeping on Rosanna’s shoulder.
‘She is hysterical.’ He spread his hands. ‘She fears Your Excellency means to dismiss her.’
‘Her fears are justified,’ Raf responded curtly. ‘However, the Contessa has asked me to think again, so you had better
bring her to me.’
Red eyes and a pink nose had done nothing to enhance Apollonia’s appearance. When she saw Raf she rushed forward,
breaking into an impassioned flood of Italian.
He lifted a hand to check her. ‘In English,’ he instructed. ‘So the Contessa can understand what is being said. You are to
be given another chance, Apollonia, but there will not be a third.’
She tried to kiss his hand, but he stepped back out of reach. ‘It is my wife you must thank,’ he said crisply. ‘She spoke
for you. But remember this. In future, when the Contessa and I are alone together in our suite, we do not wish to be
disturbed.Capisci ’
‘I—understand,’ the girl muttered. She turned to Emily, her expression still sullen. ‘Grazie, vossignoria.I will work hard
for you.’
‘A look that would scare birds from fields,’ Raf commented tersely when the maid had been led away. ‘Are you sure you
wish to keep her,mia cara ’
Emily sipped her Campari. ‘She’ll mellow,’ she said, trying to sound confident. ‘And everyone deserves a second
chance—don’t they’
‘Do they’ Raf turned away, his face suddenly remote as he poured himself another whisky. ‘I hope you are right. But
somehow I doubt it.’ He raised his glass, his mouth twisting cynically. ‘To real life,’ he said, without looking at her, and
drank.
Leaving her to stare at him, feeling oddly chilled, as if an icy wind had just swept through the room. And wondering why.
As the days that followed melded into weeks, Emily found that Raf had not exaggerated about how hectic her life would
become.
Everyone, it seemed, wanted to meet the young Contessa Di Salis, and invitations poured in. If Emily had chosen, she
could have attended a ball, a reception or a party every evening. Instead, she left it to Raf’s discrimination to decide what
should be accepted and what politely declined.
She was aware, too, that when she appeared in public with Raf, she was the object of avid speculation. But, as he rarely
moved more than a few feet from her side, no one dared voice their curiosity out loud. And he firmly vetoed the requests
for interviews from editors of newspapers and glossy magazines.
She was also spared any immediate confrontation with Valentina Colona, having learned from a newspaper report that
the lady was in the USA promoting her newest cosmetic range venture.
It would happen eventually but, in the meantime, Emily set herself almost grimly to the task of enjoying herself, but soon
discovered it was not that difficult.
Having the right clothes helped, of course. Raf had been true to his word about choosing her initial wardrobe and she was
half-ashamed to acknowledge that she’d enjoyed being totally indulged in this way and that his eye for colour and style
were exemplary.
But then he’d had a good tutor, she reminded herself painfully, more than once, during their marathon shopping
expedition. And at least nothing he’d bought her held the Valentina X label.