Bound by a One-Night Vow

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘Go, then.’ He jerked his head towards the exit. ‘Leave, and see how far it gets you. You’ll be crawling back to me, begging me to take you back, before a day goes past.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re listening to me, Andrea.’ Izzy underscored her tone with a thread of steel. ‘I’m not going to change my mind. I’ve finally grown up, like you told me to do all those years ago. I know what I want and I won’t settle for anything less.’ She forced herself to hold his unfathomable gaze. ‘I’m going to collect my wrap and my purse from the reception and unless you want to create a scene that will be splashed over every newspaper and turn your friend’s wedding into more of a farce than ours, then I suggest you let me leave without a fuss.’

  One side of his mouth tipped up in a cynical curl. ‘Blackmail, cara?’

  Izzy raised her chin. ‘You’d better believe it.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ANDREA DIDN’T BELIEVE IT. Refused to believe it. How could she walk away from her inheritance? How could she walk away from more money than most people saw in ten lifetimes?

  How could she walk away from him?

  His feelings were as raw as when he’d been a kid of fourteen, kicked to the kerb as if he was worth nothing. It freaked him out how similar the feelings were. Feelings he had spent a lifetime avoiding. He’d taught himself not to need people because he didn’t want to feel like this.

  Empty.

  Blindsided.

  Gutted.

  He’d barely been able to speak to Izzy without betraying how shocked and disappointed he felt. He hadn’t seen it coming. She couldn’t have picked a worse time to drop that on him. He hadn’t been prepared for her sudden bombshell. He’d fooled himself she wouldn’t jeopardise her inheritance. Fooled himself that what they had together was...was what? More lasting?

  No.

  He didn’t do forever. It wasn’t on his radar. Short-term and simple was his credo. He had made no promises. He had made it clear right from the start he didn’t want the complication of a long-term relationship. He accepted that it worked for other people but he didn’t want it for himself. How could he when he had seen first-hand—felt first-hand—the blunt blow of rejection?

  What was Izzy thinking? She had too much at stake to pull out now. They were only two weeks into their marriage. They had months left. Months and months he’d been looking forward to far more than he should. He’d known it was dangerous to get close to her. Known it and done it anyway, and now she had walked away. Thrown him over for what? She couldn’t inherit without him.

  She was calling his bluff—that was what this was. How could it be anything else? It was an attention-seeking tantrum to make him confess something he hadn’t confessed to anyone and never would. The wedding had got to her. It was a grand and romantic affair that would have got to anyone. Even he’d felt a twinge or two of envy over Patrizio and Elena’s commitment to each other.

  But that didn’t mean he wanted it for himself. He was happy with how things were. He and Izzy had been getting on so well. Their relationship was working the way he’d hoped it would—mutually satisfying, exciting and passionate.

  And close...

  Yes, well, that was the problem right there, wasn’t it? He’d allowed her too close. Way too close. He’d been blinded by the intimacies they’d shared, not just the physical but the emotional. He had got to know her, the real Izzy, not the wild child façade she put on as a form of armour. Getting close to her, knowing her more deeply, had brought out the protector in him. She was the first woman he’d allowed close enough to stir that in him. Close enough to see his pain and shame over his troubled past.

  But would she go through with her threat to walk away? There was no way she would walk out on him in the middle of his colleague’s wedding. She knew how much was at stake, and not just for him but also for her. Was this her way of exacting revenge? Was that what she was doing? Making him pay for forcing her into marriage? But that didn’t fit well with his new understanding of her. She wasn’t a brash pay-you-back type. She was impulsive and feisty and, yes, a little sensitive and emotional, but those were the things he’d come to admire about her.

  He’d thought they were getting on just fine. He’d thought their relationship was going exactly the way he’d wanted it to. They enjoyed each other’s company. They were good together. Better than good—amazing. They’d shared the best sex he’d ever had and he’d looked forward to it continuing for another few months.

  Anger coiled in his belly, tight and terrible anger mixed up in a toxic stew of disappointment and an even more disquieting sense of dismay. He was not the sort of man to feel dismayed or distraught. He hadn’t felt like that since he was a teenager without a home, without a family.

  Without anyone.

  He never allowed anyone the opportunity to hurt him the way he’d been hurt back then. Izzy was probably still feeling a little hormonal. She would cool off in an hour or so and realise what was at stake for her and rethink her decision. By the time he got back to their hotel tonight she would be tucked up in bed and waiting for him.

  He was counting on it.

  * * *

  Izzy only stayed at Andrea’s hotel long enough to collect her passport and her overnight bag. She booked an early-morning flight back to London and moved into another hotel so she wouldn’t encounter Andrea. How could she spend another night with him, knowing he didn’t love her? Would never love her? Refused to love her? As much as she wanted him, it would be emotional suicide to continue to sleep with him. Even if he came back now and said he loved her, how could she be sure he wasn’t pretending? Hadn’t she heard her father say it numerous times without once meaning it?

  Izzy barely slept that night and got to the airport early and boarded her flight with her heart so heavy she wondered if she would be charged an excess baggage fee. London greeted her with rain and dismal skies and when she called her flatmate, Jess, she found her room had been rented out to someone else.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Izzy, but I thought you weren’t coming back,’ Jess said. ‘What’s happened? Where’s Andrea?’

  ‘We’re not together any more,’ Izzy said. ‘I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have married him. He doesn’t love me.’

  ‘Do you love him?’ Jess’s voice was soft with concern.

  Izzy bit her lip to stop it from trembling. ‘I’m an idiot for falling for someone like him. I don’t know how it happened. One minute I hated him and the next...’

  ‘But what will you do now? Doesn’t this mean you lose your inheritance if you break up before the six months?’

  ‘I don’t care about the money,’ Izzy said. ‘Well, only a little bit.’

  ‘Where will you live? I could put you up on the sofa for a night or two but—’

  ‘It’s all right. I’ll find my own place. I’m not exactly destitute.’ Yet.

  * * *

  Andrea arrived at his villa in Positano the following day with the expectation Izzy would be there once she’d had time to cool off. His hotel staff had told him she had left the hotel late but they had no idea of where she had gone. He’d done a quick ring around but hotel security was tight on giving out guest details, which was something he totally supported. But it was frustrating to spend the night pacing the floor with a host of ghastly scenarios flooding his brain. He’d tried calling her but her phone was switched off. He didn’t leave a message because he wasn’t sure what to say. Come back, I need you were not phrases he used. To anyone.

  Gianna greeted him with her usual cheery smile but her expression faded when she saw he was alone. ‘Where’s Izzy?’

  ‘I was hoping she’d be here.’ Andrea’s stomach curdled anew with disappointment. A dark and bitter disappointment that yet again she had failed to do as he’d expected. As he’d hoped.

  Gianna’s dark brown eyes almost popped out of her head. ‘Why didn’t sh
e come back with you? What’s going on?’

  ‘I’d rather not talk about it.’

  ‘But where is she?’

  Andrea strode past the housekeeper to go to his office. ‘I don’t want to be disturbed. Take the week off. Take a month off.’

  He sat at his desk and stared at his computer screen. How had it come to this? He had been hoping Izzy would be back by now. He had given her twenty-four hours. How much longer did she need to see what a stupid thing she was doing? She was sabotaging her future. She was throwing away her chance of financial freedom. It was a ludicrous thing to do. No one in their right mind would walk away from that amount of money.

  But money wasn’t everything...

  Andrea clenched his jaw until his teeth ached. Yes, it damn well was. Money might not buy happiness but it got you off the street. It got you out of the gutter and into a lifestyle that was the envy of others. It fed you and clothed you and transported you to places you’d only ever dreamed of as a child living in abject poverty.

  He pushed back his chair and paced the floor until he was sure he would bald the carpet. He might have plenty of money but he had never felt so powerless. He was used to being in the driving seat of his life. He was the one who started and ended his relationships. He wasn’t used to being left hanging, hoping for what he couldn’t quite say. His pride had taken a hit. That was why he was feeling so out of sorts. What else could it be? He had been so sure Izzy wouldn’t compromise her chance to inherit. She wanted her grandparents’ house more than anything. He knew what it felt like to want something so badly nothing else mattered. Was she disappointed? Crushed that her dream of buying back that property was now out of her reach?

  He went over to the window to look at the view from his office. The ocean sparkled below, the sun shone with brilliance and warmth but inside he felt cold and empty. He was like a king confined to his castle, surrounded by wealth and possessions that failed to deliver the contentment they had before.

  Andrea rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He needed to do something. Anything. Work was his panacea, wasn’t it? The least he could do was buy the wretched property for her. Call him a sentimental fool but he couldn’t stand by and let her miss out on that house. He sat back at his desk and searched online for the property details. Within an hour he had made an offer—way too generous, of course, and it would take a few days for a building inspection to be completed and a legal contract drawn up, but he wanted that property for Izzy and what he wanted he made it his business to get.

  Well...mostly.

  Work was what he needed to get back on form. Hard, relentless work. He had to stop thinking about Izzy and focus on something else. He needed to pour his frustrations into ticking off tasks. He was not going to let Izzy’s desertion undo him. He hated to think what the press would make of their break-up once they heard about it.

  But he was determined they wouldn’t hear it via him.

  * * *

  Izzy found a temporary bedsit and a few days later hired a car and travelled down to take one last look at her grandparents’ house. The day before she’d received a call from the owners to say a buyer had approached them and, due to the generosity of the offer, they’d felt compelled to sell rather than wait another few months. They were apologetic but pragmatic and Izzy could hardly blame them. She had been expecting such a call ever since she’d first hoped to buy the property. It was always going to be risky without having drawn up a legal agreement, but she hadn’t been in the position to draw up anything.

  She had just hoped. Vainly, foolishly, naïvely hoped.

  But going down now to the house was her way of saying goodbye to the dream she’d had of reclaiming it. She’d heard nothing from Andrea since she’d arrived in London, although she had noticed a couple of missed calls the night she’d left Venice, but he hadn’t left a message. She’d been bracing herself for the press to report on their failed relationship but so far there had been nothing. It was ironic to think of all the times in the past where she had courted scandal and now the sudden break-up of her marriage to Italy’s most eligible bachelor had failed to rate a mention.

  The country lane lined by hedgerows on the way to her grandparents’ house brought a prickly lump to Izzy’s throat. How many times had she been down this lane with Hamish by her side? Not enough. Nowhere near enough but those few precious memories were all she had left to treasure. Every field, every tree and wildflower were like old friends greeting her. There was the old oak she had stood under and watched in wonder as Hamish had built a tree house specially for her. There was the little bridge over the babbling stream that she and Hamish had walked over on their way to his favourite fishing spot. There was the copse of trees where they’d had a picnic and he’d played hide and seek with her. She could almost smell the fragrance of her grandmother’s home-baked treats, could almost hear the sound of her grandfather mowing the lawns on his ride-on mower because he enjoyed the task so much even though there had been a gardener.

  This was where Izzy had felt closest to her mother and she had hoped by reclaiming the house she would somehow feel her mum would be proud of her.

  The Georgian house finally came into view and her heart stuttered when she saw the ‘SOLD’ notice on an estate agent’s sign by the entrance gates.

  Izzy’s shoulders slumped in defeat. So it really was over. Even after the phone call from the owners she had still hoped it wasn’t true. But it was true. Her dream was destroyed. But strangely it didn’t feel as devastating as she’d thought. The house looked tired and in need of some urgent attention. The garden was overgrown and the paintwork on the house faded and even peeling in places. But even if the house were beautifully restored, would she have been happy without someone to share her vision of it with her? The only someone she wanted to share it with was Andrea and he didn’t want to share his life with anyone, much less her.

  It was just a house that had once been a happy place but the people who had made it happy were no longer there. But in a way they lived on in Izzy’s heart. It was up to her now to honour her mother’s and brother’s and grandparents’ memories by living a fully authentic life, not settling for second best or half measures.

  Izzy turned the car around and drove back along the lane, leaving her childhood memories—and a little part of herself that would always belong there—behind.

  * * *

  A couple of days later Andrea received a package delivery by courier from Izzy containing the wedding and engagement rings and the jewellery he’d bought her. He sat in his office in Positano and stared at the diamonds and sapphires and wondered why she’d sent them back when she could have sold them. At least then she could have raised some funds to compensate for what she’d lost by bailing on their marriage. He searched through the packaging and found a handwritten note.

  Dear Andrea,

  I didn’t feel comfortable keeping these any longer. I’ll leave it to you to make the divorce arrangements. Please say hello to Gianna for me and apologise for how I left without saying goodbye. I hope she understands.

  By the way, my grandparents’ house was sold but I’m okay about it. It needs a lot of work and I would never have been able to afford it.

  Izzy

  Andrea stared at the note for a long moment. Why was she leaving the divorce arrangements to him? He picked up her wedding ring and suddenly realised he was still wearing his. Why hadn’t he taken it off? He let out a sigh that scraped at his throat like a crab claw. He knew exactly why. It was the same reason he’d gone to such trouble to buy her grandparents’ property even though it would need hundreds of thousands of pounds thrown at it to restore it. As white elephants went it was a big one. It had gone against every business principle he prided himself on but he’d felt compelled to at least make sure she had something she wanted, even if it wasn’t all she’d hoped for. He’d been waiting for all the legal work to be cleared up befor
e he sent the deeds to her. Maybe he should have contacted her before now but he didn’t want her to think he was blackmailing her into coming back to him. The house was a gift. Wasn’t it? Why else had he bought such a run-down sad excuse for a place?

  But she didn’t want possessions. She wanted love. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted?

  And yes, even him.

  He’d been such a fool to let her go without a fight. He’d let her walk away because he hadn’t had the guts to ask her to stay. He hadn’t had the courage to admit to how he felt about her. He hadn’t even recognised his feelings because for most of his life he’d been shut down emotionally. He had done the same thing to his mother. She had rejected him and he’d walked away without trying to understand what was going on for her. But he had already taken steps to fix things with his mother. He had Izzy to thank for showing him how blind he had been to his mother’s point of view. It shamed him to think he had wasted all those years resenting his mother when he could have been helping her, protecting her.

  But for now Izzy was his top priority—his only priority.

  He had locked away his heart for fear of getting hurt and yet he had hurt Izzy. She hadn’t told him she loved him but the signs were all there. He had to see her to tell her how he felt. He had to prove he was worthy of a second chance because he couldn’t bear to live his life without her at the centre of it.

  * * *

  Izzy was in her bedsit, mindlessly watching a movie on her phone, when the doorbell rang. She used the term ‘doorbell’ loosely for it sounded more like a cat being slowly strangled than anything else. She clicked off her phone and answered the door, to find Andrea standing there carrying a package and a business-sized envelope. A sinkhole formed in her stomach. The divorce papers. He was bringing her the divorce papers to sign to activate proceedings. ‘Hi,’ she said, surprised her voice got past the lump in her throat. ‘Won’t you come in?’