Bound by a One-Night Vow

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  More in control.

  And right now a little more control was exactly what he needed.

  CHAPTER TEN

  WHEN IZZY WOKE the next morning Andrea was already up and showered. He brought her a cup of tea and some toast on a tray and sat on the edge of the bed as he set it across her lap. ‘How are you feeling this morning, cara?’

  ‘Much better, thanks.’ She took the cup of tea and cradled it in her hands. ‘Thanks for taking such good care of me. It’s a long time since I was cosseted like that.’

  He gave her leg a little pat. ‘You deserve to be cosseted. I was worried about you.’

  ‘It would have been far more worrying if I hadn’t got my period.’ Izzy brought the cup to her mouth to take a sip of her tea.

  ‘True.’ He gave an on-off smile but a frown flickered across his brow.

  There was a silence.

  Izzy put her cup back on the tray. ‘What time do we leave for Venice?’

  He rose from the bed. ‘Our flight leaves in about an hour or so. It’s a late afternoon wedding so there’ll be plenty of time to dress at the hotel before the service.’

  ‘Will it be a big wedding?’

  ‘Big enough.’

  Izzy tilted her head at him. ‘You’re not looking forward to it, are you?’

  He gave her another brief smile. ‘Let’s put it this way: I’ll be glad when today is over.’

  * * *

  They arrived at their hotel in Venice—one of Andrea’s smaller ones, but for all that no less gorgeous. Izzy freshened up her make-up and hair and then dressed in one of the outfits Andrea had bought her when they’d gone shopping a few days ago. It was navy blue satin that clung to her figure like a glove and she teamed it with a matching satin wrap and high heels.

  Just as she was about to put on some costume jewellery, Andrea came over to her carrying a jewellery box. ‘These are for you,’ he said.

  Izzy opened the box to find a stunningly beautiful sapphire and diamond pendant and matching droplet earrings nestled in a bed of luxurious velvet. ‘Oh, my goodness...they’re gorgeous.’ She glanced up at him but his expression was difficult to read. ‘You really shouldn’t have spent so much money.’

  He shrugged as if spending thousands and thousands of euros on designer jewellery was no big deal. ‘You need to look the part at Patrizio and Elena’s wedding.’

  Izzy felt a sharp pang of disappointment like a needle stab to her heart. He hadn’t bought the jewellery specifically for her but as a stage prop to convince everyone their marriage was not the sham it really was. She looked back down at the earrings and pendant, touching the shimmering diamonds with one of her fingers. ‘You have excellent taste in jewellery...’ Then she frowned and looked up at him again. ‘But I thought you said you never bought your lovers jewellery?’

  He took the box from her and removed the pendant. ‘I don’t. But this is different. Turn around and I’ll put it on for you.’

  Different? In what way? Did it mean he was beginning to care for her? To really care for her?

  To feel close to her?

  Izzy turned and lifted the back of her hair out of the way so he could fasten the pendant around her neck. The brush of his fingers against her skin made her shiver as if he had sent a current of electricity through her body. Once the pendant was in place she turned back around to face him. ‘Why is it different?’

  His gaze drifted to her mouth and back to her eyes but his expression was still as inscrutable as ever. ‘You’re my wife. People will expect you to be wearing nice jewellery.’

  Izzy touched the pendant hanging around her neck. ‘But I’m only a temporary wife. Spending heaps of money seems a little over-the-top, given the circumstances.’

  His mouth tightened for the briefest moment as if her comment had landed like a punch. ‘No one knows this is temporary but us.’

  ‘And Gianna.’

  He gave a grunt that could have been agreement or scorn or both. ‘I’m starting to wonder if I should have let her in on the secret.’ He picked up his jacket and shrugged it on. ‘You look beautiful, by the way. That colour suits you.’

  Izzy smoothed down the front of her dress, ridiculously thrilled by his compliment. ‘Thank you.’ She picked up the earrings and inserted them into her ears. ‘Will I do?’

  His dark gaze ran over her like a minesweeper and he gave her a bone-melting smile. ‘You’ll more than do.’

  * * *

  The Montelli wedding service was conducted at St Mark’s Basilica in Venice and Izzy took her assigned seat near the front on the groom’s side while Andrea went forward to stand with Patrizio at the altar as his best man. The front of the church was beautifully adorned with flowers and each pew draped with white ribbons and bows and more garlands of flowers. A boy soprano choir sang with such exquisite scalp-tingling perfection, Izzy had tears sprouting in her eyes and a thickness developing in her throat. If she had been the type to imagine a dream wedding, then this would have been close to it. It was a painful reminder of how cold and impersonal her wedding ceremony to Andrea had been. It had been little more than a business transaction and, while their relationship had improved over the last couple of weeks, it didn’t erase the fact that their marriage was not for ever.

  The organist began playing the Wedding March and the congregation audibly drew in a collective breath when the bridesmaids—led by Patrizio’s stepdaughter Alexis—came up the aisle. Dressed in the softest shade of rose, each bridesmaid carried a posy of tea roses and the cute little flower girl, who was only about three years old, carried a little basket of rose petals, but she proved too shy to do much other than hold her head down and clutch the hand of the nearest bridesmaid.

  And then it was time for the bride to enter the church. Izzy turned and watched Patrizio’s bride Elena walk up the aisle in a wedding dress that was like something out of a fairy tale. With a lace bodice and long sleeves and a full skirt with a partial train and a voluminous veil, Elena glowed with beauty and happiness.

  Izzy tried to suppress the pangs of envy but the closer the bride got to her beaming-with-pride groom, the worse she felt. It was as if someone was crushing her heart inside her chest when she thought of her own wedding day. Her travesty of a wedding ceremony with its impersonal witnesses and cynical seen-it-all-before marriage celebrant. The ceremony where no feelings were involved, no future planned, no promises of forever.

  Just words without meaning, without conviction and commitment.

  She glanced at Andrea but he was concentrating on his role as best man, although Izzy noticed Alexis casting him covert glances and blushing. The teenager reminded Izzy of herself at that age—awkward, not quite an adult and yet not really a child. Caught in a weird limbo with hormones and urgings but without the maturity to deal with them.

  It was a painful reminder of all the mistakes Izzy had made in trying to get her father’s attention.

  So many mistakes. Mistakes she was still paying for now.

  The service began and the bride and groom exchanged heartfelt vows. Izzy swallowed a lump in her throat as the bride and groom kissed. Andrea’s eyes met hers and Izzy gave him a smile that was so tight it felt like her mouth would crack.

  By the time the bridal procession left the church and the official photos were taken it was over an hour before Izzy got anywhere near Andrea. She felt like an extra on a film set. Not important enough to be in the main cast, just a walk-on figure.

  But that was exactly what she was in Andrea’s life. A walk-on part. A temporary bride who had no hope of a more permanent role. How could she have agreed to such an arrangement when she could have had what Patrizio and Elena had? No one looking at the new bride and groom could be in any doubt of their feelings for each other. Real feelings. Genuine feelings, not pretend.

  Why couldn’t Andrea look at her like that?

&n
bsp; Izzy met his gaze during the reception and tried to fool herself he was looking at her like that, but then she realised he was acting the role of devoted husband. It was a jarring echo of what her father used to do. Pretending. Playing to an audience. There was nothing genuine about her relationship with Andrea, apart from the desire they shared. But how soon would that burn out for him? He was known for only staying with a lover for a month or so. She had been with him a little over two weeks. Would she be able to hold his interest for another five and a half months? How could she live with him, pretending she was happy with how things were?

  She wasn’t happy.

  How could she be when all she had ever wanted was to be loved for who she was? Accepted and valued, not expected to be someone she could never be. Could she really pretend she was fine with how things were for another few months and then smile and wave goodbye when it was over? Didn’t Andrea want more than a six-month affair? Especially after all they had shared both physically and emotionally? She had fooled herself he was getting close to her. He had shared his painful past, as she had shared hers.

  Didn’t that mean he felt something for her that he hadn’t felt for anyone else?

  The reception was being held at a private villa along the canals. The bridal party were transported in gondolas, but again Izzy felt on the outside, arriving on foot and having to sit with people she didn’t know because Andrea was on the top table.

  During the reception Andrea introduced her to Patrizio and Elena and Alexis, holding Izzy close to his side and smiling down at her with every appearance of being madly in love, but Izzy felt even more conflicted. More of a fraud. More of a misfit. More miserable. Every smile he sent her way made her heart contract. Every touch of his made something in her stomach plummet in despair because she knew the truth even if the wedding party and guests did not.

  Andrea didn’t love her. If he did wouldn’t he have said so? Wouldn’t he have taken the time limit off their relationship? Wouldn’t he have at least hinted that things had changed for him? That his feelings had changed?

  ‘Is everything all right, cara?’ Andrea asked, drawing Izzy to one side during the last stages of the reception.

  ‘We need to talk.’ Izzy kept her frozen smile in place in case any wedding guests were watching.

  He cupped her face, his brown eyes dark with concern. ‘Tired? Sorry it’s been such a long day for you. We can’t leave until the bride and groom go, but it won’t be long now.’

  Izzy couldn’t bear for another minute to go past without telling him how she felt. She looked up into his eyes and tried to keep hers from tearing up. ‘I can’t do this, Andrea. I just can’t.’

  His hands took her gently by the upper arms. ‘Are you still unwell? I’m sorry, I should have asked earlier.’

  Izzy moved out of his hold and stepped further into the quiet alcove they were in. She crossed her arms over her body, suddenly chilled although the night was warm. ‘I’m not sick. I’m just sick of pretending. I can’t do it. It feels wrong to be fooling everyone our relationship is something it’s not and never will be.’

  A flicker of annoyance passed over his features. ‘Can’t this wait until we get back to our hotel?’

  Izzy stood her ground, facing him with what was left of her pride. ‘Did you feel anything during that wedding ceremony today? Anything at all?’

  His expression tightened into a mask of steel. ‘Isabella. This is not the time or place for this discussion.’

  ‘I asked you a simple question.’

  ‘And I told you I am not going to discuss this here.’ His tone was so cold she felt another shiver pass over her flesh.

  ‘I’ll tell you how I felt. I felt guilty,’ Izzy said. ‘Guilty and disappointed and ashamed because I agreed to marry you for all the wrong reasons. I looked at Elena and Patrizio at the ceremony and saw two people who love each other. I want that. I want what they have.’

  He frowned. ‘You want us to have a formal ceremony? Is that what you’re saying? You want a big fancy church wedding even though we’ve only got a few more months to the—’

  ‘You don’t get it, do you?’ Izzy’s heart felt as if it were being pulverised, along with her pride. ‘It’s not about having a big flashy wedding, Andrea. I want a genuine marriage, one where there isn’t a clock ticking. One where there isn’t pretence and lying and acting but real feelings. Feelings that last a lifetime.’

  ‘No one can guarantee that.’ His lips barely moved over the clipped words. ‘You can’t. I can’t.’

  ‘Maybe not, but I’d still like to try.’

  The silence was so thick it was like a suffocating fog.

  Andrea let out a long slow breath but there was no reduction of tension in his expression. ‘You’re asking for something I can’t give. We agreed on six months. I’ve told you what I’m prepared to give and a long-term commitment isn’t part of it.’

  She searched his gaze, desperately hoping to see a flicker of warm emotion instead of clinical indifference. ‘But why isn’t it? Why is committing to someone so difficult for you?’

  He opened and closed his mouth as if carefully monitoring his choice of words before he spoke. ‘I’m not prepared to discuss this now. We agreed on the terms and—’

  ‘I should never have agreed,’ Izzy said. ‘But I wanted my grandparents’ house so much it was all I could think about. But I realise now I want something else so much more. I can’t spend another minute of my life trying to be what other people want or expect me to be. I have to be me. I have to be true to myself. For most of my life I thought I never wanted to be married. I can’t believe I told myself such lies and for so long. But what I realise now is what I didn’t want was my parents’ marriage. My father didn’t love my mother. If he’d loved her he wouldn’t have tried to control her and squash her spirit.’

  ‘I have no interest in trying to control you or squash your spirit, so please don’t insult me by comparing me to your father,’ Andrea said through tight lips.

  ‘But you don’t love me, do you?’ Izzy felt as if she were stepping off a tall building into mid-air by asking such a question.

  Every muscle on his face looked like it was having a spasm. Tension rippled along his jaw, his gaze as shuttered as a boarded-up window. ‘That wasn’t part of the bargain,’ he said in a voice so devoid of emotion he could have been a robot.

  Izzy knew she had been asking for the impossible but still she had clung to hope. But that fragile hope was now in the final throes of survival, gasping for air even as death crept inexorably closer. ‘I don’t want a business contract for a relationship. I don’t want a bargain drawn up with terms and conditions and rules. I just want what most people want. Love. Commitment.’

  ‘Look, we’ll go back to our hotel and once you’ve had a good night’s sleep you’ll see this differently in the morning,’ he said in a more conciliatory tone. ‘You’re tired and emotional.’

  Izzy knew if she went back to the hotel with him she would end up in bed with him. She would end up going back to Positano with him and would spend the next five months hoping he would change his mind. She had spent too much of her life hoping for things she couldn’t have. She had to be strong. She had to stand up for what she wanted. She owed it to herself. She couldn’t live by someone else’s agenda any longer. ‘I’m not going back with you, Andrea. Not to your hotel. Not to your villa. It’s over. We are over because we were never together in the first place.’

  His eyes flinched as if too bright a light had struck him in the face. But then his expression turned to stone. ‘Are you doing this deliberately?’ He waved his hand towards the reception they could hear in the other room. ‘Is this what you planned? To jeopardise everything I’ve worked so damn hard for?’

  Izzy let out a sigh. ‘That you would even think that proves how little you know me. I’m sorry if this ruins your merger but I consider my n
eeds just as important as a business deal. I can’t pretend to be happy with what we agreed on. I’m not happy. I could never be happy with someone who is unable to love me.’

  ‘Are you saying you love me?’ His frown was so heavy it made him look angry rather than confused.

  Izzy considered telling him of her feelings for him but knew it wouldn’t change anything. She had to keep some measure of pride. To offer her heart to him, only to have him hand it back with a Thanks, but no thanks would be too painful. ‘I’m saying I want more than you can give me.’

  ‘If you loved me, then you’d accept whatever I offered you,’ he said. ‘You’d accept it and be grateful because without me you’re going to lose every penny of your inheritance.’

  Izzy wondered how she could have ever thought that money would have been enough. Twice or thrice the amount wouldn’t be enough in exchange for a loveless life. She only had to think of her mother to be reminded of how empty such a life could be. Even her dream of buying back her grandparents’ estate seemed a pointless mission. What she had been trying to buy back was her happiness—the happiness she had once felt and longed to feel again.

  But she wouldn’t do it—couldn’t do it—if it compromised her sense of self. Her sense of worth.

  ‘I won’t live with you under those terms, Andrea,’ Izzy said. ‘I’d be little more than a paid mistress, waiting for you to call time on our affair. I want to be an equal partner in a relationship. Not a pawn on a chessboard.’

  ‘Your father was the one who put you on the chessboard, not me.’ His lips were so flat they turned white. ‘You should be grateful I was prepared to step in to help you. No one else was going to.’

  ‘Is that what I’m supposed to feel? Grateful?’ Izzy threw him an embittered glare. ‘For what, exactly? That you fancied me? But how long is it going to last? Another week or two? A month? You don’t stay with a lover longer than a few weeks. I can’t live like that. I won’t live like that.’