‘Choose the room you want,’ he said when she made no verbal response. ‘That door at the other end of the corridor takes you through to a living area where we’ll have our dinner tonight.’
‘Are there any other rooms off limits?’
‘No. Francesca’s the only one who kept her childhood room as her own personal territory. My mother has informed me she won’t be sleeping here again. If she visits she’ll return to her villa in Pisa. Pieta last slept here on the day he got married.’ Daniele’s nose wrinkled as if he’d detected a foul smell.
‘Are we going to live here?’ She knew he had a number of other homes. If they were staying here she definitely needed that shopping trip. The warm clothes she’d packed wouldn’t be warm enough unless she wore them all at the same time.
‘Only until all the paperwork is sorted out and I’m declared the legal owner. Choose a room and make yourself at home. I’ll join you for dinner in half an hour.’ And with that, he opened his bedroom door and disappeared inside.
Alone, she gazed at the doors along the right side of the corridor and opted for the one furthest from Daniele’s. It was a relatively small room, with thick lined faded wallpaper and wood panelled ceiling. It had a four-poster bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, heavy curtains for the windows and a cosy-looking fireplace. The door also had a lock with a key in it.
Yes. This would do her perfectly for the next three or four weeks.
She would worry about sharing a bed with Daniele when the time came.
* * *
They left early the next morning for the consulate in Florence. To Eva’s utter astonishment, the nulla osta was produced immediately, and an Italian-speaking consular official was there on hand to translate copies of her other documents so there would be no unnecessary delays. Daniele’s smug grin as they left the building made her shake her head, that feeling of not knowing whether to laugh or cry going through her again.
‘Who did you have to bribe to get it done there and then?’ she asked when they were back in the car and heading to the registry office.
‘No one. I simply made a few calls before we left.’ He flashed a grin at her. ‘When I want something, I never take no for an answer.’
‘So I’ve noticed,’ she murmured.
His efficiency at getting things done was astounding. She’d discovered that last night when she’d joined him for dinner and found the draft prenuptial agreement printed off for her to read. He’d stuck to his word on every aspect. Once they’d finished eating, he’d then produced a map of the castello for her, which he’d drawn himself, with every wing clearly marked and little comments like, ‘Don’t go in this wing unless you like getting rained on.’ This random act of thoughtfulness had astounded her more than anything else.
It was such a short ride to the registry office that by the time they’d parked, she thought it would have been quicker to walk.
The registrar greeted them and took them straight to his office, where a pot of coffee sat on a sideboard, the fresh aroma filling the room.
For perhaps the tenth time since she’d joined Daniele on the terrace of his hotel suite, Eva wondered if she’d slipped into some kind of vortex. Here she was, sitting down to arrange a wedding with a man she barely knew and intensely disliked but it didn’t feel real, felt like she’d slipped out of her body and was watching it all happen to someone else.
Daniele was keen to get on and forced a smile as the registrar, a plodding, laborious man, asked in hesitant English if Eva needed a translator.
‘Italian will be fine, if you don’t mind going slowly,’ she said, speaking his language faultlessly.
The registrar beamed his approval and inspected the nulla osta she’d passed to him carefully. ‘This seems to be in order. You both have your passports?’
They handed them over, Eva passing her translated documents with hers. They were all inspected with the same careful consideration.
Only when copies had been made were they handed back in a pile together.
Daniele took them and opened the top passport to check whose it was, saw it was Eva’s and passed it to her. About to pass her the other documents, which he’d not even glanced at until that point, his attention was caught by the top one.
In silence he scanned it, the beats of his heart turning to thumps that hammered loudly throughout the rest of their meeting, through the vibration of his phone alerting him to a message from his sister who’d arrived at the building, and through all the other formalities that would allow him to marry Eva Bergen, formerly Eva van Basten.
By the time Francesca and Felipe joined them in the room, his heart was like a crescendo in his ears.
He’d not had the faintest idea that the ice-cool, beautiful woman he’d chosen to marry was a widow.
* * *
‘What do you think?’ Eva asked the woman who was going to be her sister-in-law in five days.
Five days.
The registrar had agreed to reduce the banns notice to just five days.
She could hardly believe it would happen so quickly. She’d expected to wait for weeks. Had hoped to wait for weeks, figuring it might give her the time to get used to the idea.
She really needed to keep herself on high alert around Daniele. The man was more than just a magician. He could make anything happen.
As soon as their appointment had ended, Daniele had given Eva his credit card and a key to the castello, said something about needing to get on with his work and then disappeared in his car.
Confused at his abruptness, she’d watched him be driven away with a certainty that something had angered him. Then Francesca had whisked her away shopping and she’d pushed Daniele from her mind.
Or tried to. In five days he would be her husband. For better or worse, they were going to be legally tied together. Suddenly it all felt very real.
Now she stood in the changing room of an extremely expensive boutique surrounded by a pile of vibrantly colourful clothes in all shapes, sizes and materials, Francesca and her keen sense of style a welcome presence.
‘When do you move to Rome?’ Eva asked as she unbuttoned the silk electric-blue shirt she’d just tried on and adored. She’d balked when she’d first seen the price tag but Francesca had been insistent, pointing out that the money that would pay for these purchases had been legally earned. But, still, twenty-eight years of frugality would not be overcome by one shopping trip.
‘We were going to move this weekend but are going to wait until after your wedding.’ Francesca took Eva’s hands to stop her undoing any more buttons. ‘Keep this on. You look fabulous in it.’
‘Will I be allowed to?’
‘You’ve got Daniele’s credit card in your pocket. You can do whatever you like.’
Eva laughed. She really did like Francesca. ‘I’ll be cold.’
‘Then we’ll get you a coat to go with it. Wear it with the black jeans and black boots.’
The black jeans were nothing like the jeans she usually wore. These were a real skinny fit and had little diamond studs ringing the pockets. The boots were like nothing she’d ever worn either, reaching her knees and with four-inch heels. Slut shoes, her mother would have called them. Her mother would turn puce if she could see them, then have a heart attack when she saw the price.
How would Daniele react to see her in such different clothing...?
‘Have you thought of the type of wedding dress you want?’ Francesca asked, cutting through Eva’s veering thoughts of Daniele.
Who cared what he thought of the clothes she bought and how she looked in them? Not her.
Yet those were her flushed cheeks reflecting back at her...
‘I’m sure I’ll find something,’ she murmured, dragging her attention back to Francesca’s question. As she didn’t want to think of the actual ceremony, she hadn’t allowed herself to consider what she would exchange her vows in.
‘There’s a lovely bridal shop in Pisa I can take you to. I found my wedding dress i
n it. Can I be your bridesmaid?’
‘I don’t think it’s going to be that kind of wedding.’
‘Don’t be silly. A wedding’s a wedding. And who knows—maybe you and Daniele will fall in love with each other! That would be brilliant.’
Eva was so shocked at this that for a moment she could only gape at the younger woman. ‘You know?’
‘That Daniele’s paying you to marry him? Yes, I know. So does Felipe. And our mamma,’ she added as an afterthought.
‘It doesn’t bother you?’
‘We need to keep the castello in the family. That’s more important than ever after what Matteo and Natasha have done.’
‘Matteo? Your cousin? The one who’s a doctor?’
Francesca nodded, her face darkening in exactly the same way her brother’s did when he thought of something unpleasant. ‘Did Daniele not tell you about it?’
‘Tell me what?’
‘Matteo’s been having an affair with Pieta’s wife, Natasha. She’s pregnant with his child.’
Eva’s jaw dropped. ‘For real?’
Francesca nodded grimly. ‘We found out last week. It was in all the papers.’
‘I don’t follow the news,’ Eva said absently as the pieces suddenly clicked together. Daniele and Matteo in Caballeros together... Daniele’s busted nose... His grim mood... ‘Last week? Did Daniele and Matteo get in a fight about it?’
‘Yes. It’s such a betrayal. I don’t dare see him. I think I would be sick before I could punch him. He was like a brother to us. Natasha...we all loved her. We thought she loved us too. They betrayed us.’ She took a deep breath, blinked a number of times then brightened. ‘I’m very glad you’ve agreed to marry Daniele. I know he can be a pig but he’s not all bad. And by marrying you the castello stays with our side of the family, otherwise if Matteo marries Natasha then he will be next in line to inherit.’
Eva swallowed, remembering Francesca’s visit to Caballeros to purchase the land to build the hospital on. Eva had met her there, happy to impart as much of her local knowledge as she could to assist her. It was through that meeting she’d learned Daniele would be building the hospital and Matteo supplying all the medical equipment and overseeing the employment of the doctors and nurses who would work there. She’d seen the two men together, witnessed the good-natured ribbing and the easy familiarity. The family had put aside their grief over Pieta’s death to pull together to make the hospital happen, and now they had been torn apart.
For the first time she felt a pang of sympathy for Daniele. He was human. He felt pain.
His brother had died and now he’d lost the cousin who’d been as close as a brother too.
CHAPTER FIVE
DANIELE WAS STILL very much on Eva’s mind when Francesca and Felipe, who’d waited in a café while they’d shopped, dropped her back at the castello late that afternoon. He’d been in her thoughts all day, a shadow in her mind she couldn’t rid herself of.
Felipe insisted on carrying her bags in but they both shook their heads when Eva asked if they would be staying for a drink.
‘Thanks but we’ve got somewhere to be,’ Francesca said, her eyes darting to her fiancé.
Eva suspected their ‘somewhere to be’ meant a bed. Their obvious love and desire for each other sent another little pang through her, this one of envy. She’d been in love once, with Johann, and it had been as sweet as a bag of sugar-coated doughnuts, but the desire had never been there.
She bit her lip. There was no point in wishing for something she had never felt and that she suspected she wasn’t built to feel.
But then she thought of the man she’d be marrying and that little fluttery feeling set off in her stomach. He truly was the most attractive man she’d ever met. He had the looks of someone who, when she’d been a younger teenager, she would have wanted to pin posters of to her walls so she could gaze at him to her heart’s content.
Her sister Tessel had once put a poster up on the bedroom wall they’d shared. Eva remembered begging her to take it down before their mother saw it but Tessel had been stubbornly brave and refused. She had paid for that stubborn bravery, and Eva had never been tempted to follow suit. She’d always learned from her sister’s mistakes. Well, mostly. There had been so many rules that sometimes breaking the odd one had been inevitable.
Shaking the thoughts away, she pulled out the map Daniele had drawn for her from the bottom of the new handbag Francesca had insisted she buy. He wrote in precise block capitals, she noted, unsure why seeing his penmanship set the flutters in her belly off again.
It took her three trips to her new bedroom before she had all her new bags and boxes in there and strewn over the bed. The castello was shrouded in such silence she felt certain she was alone.
Thirsty, she studied the map again and saw the quickest way to the kitchen was through the huge family living area. Maybe she would find someone there, the chef who’d cooked their evening meal and provided them with fresh pastries before they’d left for Florence that morning.
The fluttery feeling turned into a buzz when she found Daniele at the large dining table they’d eaten at the night before. He was wearing a thick navy sweater and had his head bent over a large scroll of paper, a range of pens and pencils spread out before him.
She hovered in the doorway, a sudden shyness preventing her from stepping over the threshold. Whatever he was working on had his complete attention. She’d never imagined he could be so still.
Just as she thought she should cough or something, he turned his head.
She saw something pulse in his eyes as he stared at her before he straightened and put his hands to his ears to tug out a pair of earphones he had connected to his phone. ‘My apologies. I didn’t hear you. I always listen to music when I work but haven’t got round to setting up a music system here yet. Have you been back long?’
‘Twenty minutes. Am I disturbing you?’
‘Not at all.’ He pulled his sleeve up to look at his watch, revealing an intensely masculine forearm covered in fine dark hair. ‘I didn’t realise how late it was. How was your shopping trip?’
‘It was okay.’ She pulled her gaze away from his arm and saw his own gaze sweeping over her with an intensity that sent a burst of unexpected heat surging through her veins.
Utterly flustered but determined not to show it, she raised her chin. ‘I’m sorry. I spent a lot more than I meant to.’ She hadn’t realised when she’d set out on her shopping trip that Francesca would only take her to designer boutiques. At the time, with Francesca enthusiastically encouraging her to spend as if there were no tomorrow, she’d allowed herself to get caught in the moment but was now dealing with a serious case of buyer’s remorse.
Daniele shrugged then rolled his shoulders. He’d been hunched over the table for four hours and his back ached, but Eva’s return had perked him up. Her new clothes looked amazing on her. She’d look even better if she let her hair down, something he looked forward to in both a literal and metaphorical sense. ‘It’s part of our deal—you get an unlimited credit card to spend on whatever you like.’
‘Your sister’s taking me to Pisa tomorrow to buy a wedding dress. I won’t need to buy anything after that, not for a long time.’
‘Need is not that same as want.’
Had she worn a wedding dress for Johann? he wondered moodily. He’d brooded over that man for hours, finally drowning the name by plugging his earphones in and cranking up the sound to lose himself in the plans for the refurbishment of the theatre that homed the Orchestre National de Paris. ‘I’m one of the richest men in Europe. Buy whatever your heart desires. It’s part of our deal.’
‘Being rich doesn’t mean it’s right to be wasteful.’
Was that a deliberate dig at him? He worked hard for his money. Why should he not enjoy the fruits of his labour? ‘You sound like a puritan.’
Her pretty face tightened, fresh colour heightening her cheeks. ‘You don’t need to be a puritan to think being wastef
ul is wrong.’
‘Maybe not,’ he conceded. ‘But if you have money then spending it is good for everyone. It boosts the economy for a start and filters down.’
She tilted her head as if considering his words then scrunched her nose and raised her shoulders, and stepped properly into the room.
He scanned her from head to foot all over again. Dio, her new skin-tight sexy jeans emphasised her curves beautifully; a Bernini sculpture come to life. If not for the flashes of colour on her face he could believe she was made of marble. His loins tightening to imagine the real texture of her naked form. When he got her naked he would discover the texture for himself and learn her natural colouring...
‘I’m not an economist, only a woman who’s lived and worked with some of the poorest people on our planet.’
He forced his mind away from the delights of imagining her naked. Soon enough he wouldn’t have to imagine it...
‘Marrying me means those people get the benefit of my money.’
‘That’s why I agreed to it.’
‘Has your lawyer got back to you on the prenuptial agreement?’
She nodded. ‘He’s advised me to sign.’
‘I’m not surprised.’ Daniele had given his own lawyer instructions to make the agreement as simple and unambiguous as it could be. He had a loathing of complicated clauses allegedly there for protection but which were, to his eyes, a showcase of the drafter’s self-perceived legal brilliance. The prenuptial agreement was three clauses long and didn’t deviate from what they’d privately agreed on in Aguadilla.
‘There was one thing...’
‘What?’ he asked when her voice trailed off and she gazed down at the floor.
Buying His Bride of Convenience Page 5