Married By Christmas Bundle: Anthology

by Carol Marinelli

  By that point she was beyond caring whether Marco could see her. She was beyond coherent thought. The anger that had fuelled her only moments before had completely evaporated, leaving behind a desolate shadow of the woman who had defended herself so passionately, fearlessly standing up to Marco and calling him out on his appalling actions.

  All that was left of her was a helpless wretch, huddled alone on the beach, weeping in solitary misery.

  She felt horribly bereft. It was as if she had lost someone profoundly important to her—yet she knew she was grieving for something she’d never really had. Nothing had been real.

  It had all been a lie.

  Marco watched Claudia stumble across the beach, gripped by a maelstrom of raging emotions. As she collapsed beside the water he realised at once that she was weeping. Suddenly the fury that stormed within him was extinguished, and something deep inside him contracted painfully.

  Claudia had said he had no heart—but she was wrong.

  He could feel it breaking as he watched her weep.

  At that moment he knew with absolute certainty that every word she had ever told him was true. And that he had taken her trust, the innermost secrets of her soul, and he’d used them against her in the worst possible way. He’d manipulated her and abused her trust. He’d chewed her up and spat her back out.

  Her final words—you’ve become the man you hate—echoed agonisingly inside his mind.

  The idea that he had turned into a monster like Vasile was utterly abhorrent—yet the truth in her accusation lacerated his soul. She had been right when she’d told him that his need for revenge had blinded him to what was true.

  All along something inside him—which he’d forced right to the back of his consciousness—had recognised the signs of her innocence. His heart had known the truth, but his mind, filled with hatred and the obsessive need to avenge his family, had overpowered that truth. The anger that had driven him since his mother’s betrayal had consumed him and he had chosen how to interpret everything Claudia had ever said or done, according to his own warped agenda.

  When she’d told him that Vasile and Francesca were blackmailing her into marriage, he had believed her. In fact, he’d even felt a flash of concern for Claudia. But he had chosen to brutally suppress it, because it didn’t fit in with his preconceived ideas about her. Instead he had concentrated on the cold satisfaction he’d felt, knowing that Vasile was desperate enough to do such a reckless thing.

  Nothing had added up, but he had ploughed on regardless—too arrogant to re-evaluate.

  Too scared to expose the chink in his heart.

  A thunderbolt of understanding hit him square in the chest, making his heart thud and his eyes widen as he stared across the beach at Claudia.

  He’d been too scared to expose his heart to her for one simple reason.

  He was in love with her.

  He’d been in love with her since the summer when they’d first met.

  But she was the daughter of his enemy’s partner. She’d been living in the home that should have been his. It had been impossible for him to admit those feelings—even to himself.

  But, despite his constant denial, his feelings were real. That was why he’d spent so much time with her and why he had trusted Bianca with her, even though there’d been a niggle at the back of his mind telling him that he should keep his sister away from anyone even remotely connected to Vasile.

  When Bianca had fallen into danger, he had to blame someone. He couldn’t bear to admit that his love for Claudia had made him careless with his sister’s safety. That he’d let her go unaccompanied to that party so that he could spend a blissful weekend alone with his lover.

  He’d reacted instinctively, falling back on past prejudices and misconceptions. When his friend had called from Turin that night to tell him what had happened, it had been easier to blame Claudia. He’d lowered his guard and he couldn’t stand feeling exposed. Even the mere possibility that Claudia had played him was intolerable—so he had clamped his heart shut and left.

  Now he looked at her through the frame of swaying palm trees that surrounded the villa and he cursed himself.

  All along she’d been open and honest with him, trusting him with treasured memories and secrets that were deeply meaningful to her. The young woman who spoke with such heartfelt emotion about the loss of her mother, about her beloved grandmother teaching her to bake and about her distress over her father’s illness could never have been guilty of the things Marco had blamed her for.

  Suddenly Marco felt his eyes filling with moisture.

  He blinked in surprise and put his hand up to touch his face. It was wet with tears.

  He never wept. Not even the night when his father had died and he’d discovered what Vasile had done to his family. That night he had barricaded his heart and filled his head with plans for revenge.

  But now, somehow, Claudia had penetrated the ice packed around his heart. His defences had crumbled away, leaving him open and exposed. He was feeling her pain as sharply as if it were his own.

  He couldn’t bear to think of Claudia suffering, but her pain was all his fault. He longed to run across the beach to her, enfold her in his arms, tell her how sorry he was and beg for her forgiveness.

  But that wouldn’t erase all the agony he had caused. And he knew she wouldn’t believe him. He had lied to her too much for her to believe him now.

  He rubbed the back of his hand roughly across his face and dragged his eyes away from the window. Watching her sitting on the beach wouldn’t help. He had to find a way to make things better. He had to find a way to prove he loved her.

  The next morning Claudia stood on the powder-soft sand, letting the crystal clear water lap gently over her feet. She was slowly sinking. With every suck and pull of the waves the white sand shifted slightly until it was covering her feet, almost up to her ankles.

  She couldn’t seem to move. She just didn’t have the energy.

  She’d spent a sleepless night all alone in the magnificent four-poster bed, staring miserably at the sumptuous silken fabrics that draped tastefully around her, thinking about Marco and all the times they had spent together.

  It was so hard to believe that it had been meaningless, but she had to accept it. She ought to leave—she didn’t think Marco would try to stop her—but somehow she just couldn’t. She’d never felt so desolate in her entire life.

  Very late that evening she was due to meet Francesca and Vasile for the wedding—it was strange to think that right at that moment they were somewhere over the Atlantic, flying unawares into Marco’s trap. Presumably that was what had kept him busy all night, talking on his mobile phone, tapping emails into his laptop computer.

  She could have called them, warned them of Marco’s intentions, but she believed he was telling the truth about their illegal activities. They had definitely tried to blackmail her, by lying about her father’s health and falsely accusing him of theft. However, although she wouldn’t try to stop Marco, she had no intention of going with him to be present when he challenged them. She wasn’t interested in that. She just wanted to fly home and be with her father.

  She knew he would be all right if Francesca went to prison. They had been living virtually separate lives for years. Claudia suspected that if her father wasn’t so kind hearted he would have divorced her a long time ago.

  A sound coming from behind her drew her out of her thoughts and she glanced over her shoulder to see Marco only a few feet away. He was coming towards her across the beach, looking absolutely awful. A sharp jab of concern for him went through her as she took in the pained expression on his face. There were dark circles under his haunted eyes and his jaw was shadowed black where he hadn’t taken the time to shave.

  ‘Are you all right?’ She spoke instinctively, momentarily forgetting that she wasn’t supposed to care whether he was all right or not. She tried to turn to face him, but her feet were still buried under the sand and she stumbled.

 
; Marco was at her side in an instant, gently holding her steady. For a moment she thought he was going to pull her into his embrace—that was what she longed for him to do—but then, once he was certain she had regained her balance, he let go of her and stepped away.

  Her heart sank, although she told herself she was stupid to even think about Marco embracing her ever again.

  ‘My feet got stuck.’ She said the first thing that came to her mind and lifted her gaze to meet his. ‘You look awful,’ she added. ‘What happened? Has something gone wrong with your plan?’

  ‘Everything was wrong with my plan,’ Marco said. ‘It was my plan that made me hurt you so badly.’

  Claudia frowned up at him, letting his dark eyes delve deep into her eyes for the longest moment. He looked sincere. But, despite the small spark of hope that ignited within her, that maybe he’d realised that he’d been wrong about her, she had to be cautious.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I am sorry for everything—I’ve been so wrong. I am entirely to blame.’

  ‘It’s not your fault that Primo and Francesca tried to blackmail me,’ Claudia replied, trying to keep her emotions steady. She didn’t know where Marco was going with this unexpected apology but she had no reason to trust him. She’d done that in Wales, even knowing how he’d left her so coldly four years earlier, and it had brought her nothing but distress.

  That wasn’t entirely true, a tiny voice inside her head insisted. She’d been happy that evening in Wales. He’d brought her comfort, despite the fact that he was working towards his own goals. And he’d taken her to Turin and discovered that her father was not terminally ill.

  ‘It was my fault,’ Marco said. ‘I could have ruined Vasile years ago—then he couldn’t have touched you. But that wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to hound him and make him suffer. I pressurized him intentionally, hoping he would be forced to take desperate measures that would give me something good to use against him. That was what drove him to embezzlement and finally to blackmail.’

  Claudia stared at Marco, a bewildering array of thoughts and emotions bombarding her.

  ‘I’d tear out my heart and give it to you,’ Marco said, suddenly catching hold of her hands and holding them close to his chest. ‘I’d do it in a heartbeat if it would help to make you feel even the slightest bit better.’

  ‘I don’t want that,’ Claudia said. ‘How would your suffering help me?’

  ‘I’m sorry for everything I did,’ he said again. ‘I know that will be hard for you to believe, after everything I’ve done to hurt you.’

  ‘I want to believe you,’ Claudia whispered, looking up at him. The emotional distress he was feeling was evident in his tortured expression, and she pulled her fingers out of his grasp to reach up and cup his face with her palm. His skin was warm and his stubble rough against her palm.

  For a moment he closed his eyes and leant his cheek into her caress. Then, almost as if he couldn’t allow himself even that small amount of comfort, he tipped his head away and looked at her.

  ‘I wanted to do something—give you something—to prove I mean what I say,’ Marco said. ‘At first I couldn’t think of anything. There is nothing that could ever be enough. I can never make up for what I did.’

  ‘You don’t have to do anything,’ Claudia said. ‘I believe you’re sorry.’

  And it was true. Somehow, deep inside, she knew he was sincere.

  But she didn’t want his apology. She didn’t want his suffering.

  She wanted him to love her—like she loved him.

  ‘Come inside with me,’ Marco said, taking her by the hand and leading her up the beach to the villa.

  When they reached the doorway Claudia stopped in her tracks and stared into the huge living room in surprise. She had gone down to the sea through the bedroom door that morning and hadn’t seen what Marco had done in the living room. No wonder she had heard him moving about half the night.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Claudia said, letting her gaze run over the gorgeous Christmas decorations that adorned the entire room. There was even a Christmas tree standing tall and proud by one of the elegant windows, sparkling with multicoloured lights.

  ‘No, not that,’ Marco said, leading her into the room and pulling her down on to the sofa beside him. ‘Well, yes, I did decorate for you. But this is what I want you to see.’

  He opened his laptop computer and clicked open a news channel website.

  Claudia watched, confused at first, but she quickly realised what she was seeing.

  ‘This is a news clip of Primo Vasile and Francesca Hazelton being arrested at Turin airport and taken into police custody,’ Marco said, as if he needed to be sure she understood.

  ‘But…’ Claudia turned to him uncertainly.

  ‘The police received compelling evidence against them,’ Marco said. ‘And the news crew were also tipped off about it. I doubt it has made international news channels, but I wanted you to be able to see proof of what has happened.’

  ‘But I thought you wanted to be there, to let him know it was you who brought him down,’ Claudia said, leaning forward to click on the video clip again. She couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

  Marco let her watch it through once more, then closed the laptop.

  ‘Yes, I wanted to be there to humiliate him, as he humiliated my father. To let him know I was the one responsible for his destruction.’

  He broke off and took a shuddering breath, appalled to think that for his whole adult life he had been driven by the need to seek vicious revenge on Vasile. But although Claudia had suffered too, she had no desire for retaliation. She didn’t wish to see them suffer in return. There wasn’t a vindictive bone in her body.

  That thought had haunted him all night. And it had shamed him.

  He turned to her urgently, catching her eye to really emphasise what he was about to say.

  ‘I thought that being there in person to bring down Vasile was the thing that mattered to me most. But I found out I was wrong.’

  ‘How? What changed your mind?’ Claudia asked

  ‘You.’

  ‘Me?’ Claudia frowned at him. ‘You mean you gave it up for me? You’ve worked towards that moment for years.’

  ‘It was meaningless,’ Marco said. ‘Compared to how I feel about you, it was utterly meaningless.’

  She looked at him, hardly daring to breathe. Or to hope.

  ‘I achieved what I set out to do. I deceived you. I made you care for me. And I think I broke your heart,’ Marco said. ‘But I also broke my own.’

  He stood up and strode to the window and Claudia realised he was in the grip of very powerful emotions. She waited quietly, trying not to let the glimmer of hope that was building inside her grow too strong too soon. He’d said he’d broken his own heart. But she wouldn’t let herself think about what that might mean.

  ‘When Bianca first told me you were her new friend I was suspicious,’ Marco continued. ‘But when I met you I was overwhelmed.’

  ‘I was overwhelmed by you too,’ Claudia said, remembering how she’d been so impressed by him, so in awe of his incredible good looks and so flattered by his attention.

  ‘You were beautiful, charming and wonderfully enthusiastic about life,’ Marco said. ‘I fell in love with you immediately.’

  Claudia gasped, then covered her mouth with her hand, looking up at him with wide startled eyes. He’d said he’d fallen in love with her. But he’d used the past tense—he was talking about what happened more than four years ago.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Marco said, gazing down at her shocked face. She looked so pale and vulnerable that he wanted to wrap her in his arms and protect her from the world.

  The unbearable knowledge that he was the one she needed protection from lashed at him viciously, ripping through him—making his heart bleed in an agony of guilt-ridden sorrow.

  ‘What?’ she asked, her voice shaking.

  ‘If I loved you—how could I have t
reated you so badly?’

  He’d asked himself that question a million times since their terrible argument the night before. He hadn’t been able to get it out of his mind. He truly must be a terrible person. A man as despicable as Primo Vasile.

  ‘You were right when you said my hatred of Vasile blinded me,’ he continued doggedly. ‘That’s why I never challenged you about our mutual connection to him. I told myself I was waiting to see what you’d do, to see if you’d reveal any involvement with him. The truth was I enjoyed your company too much to do anything that might make me lose you.’

  He paused and drew in a long shaky breath.

  ‘I wish you’d asked me about it.’ Claudia gazed up into his haunted eyes. His suffering was drawn on every plane and angle of his face, and her heart contracted with the need to comfort him somehow. But she instinctively understood that he needed to complete his confession.

  ‘So do I,’ Marco said, pacing across to the window and back again.

  ‘I still can’t believe that all along you thought I knew what Primo did to your family,’ she said. ‘That you thought I was hiding that knowledge from you for some reason.’

  ‘That’s because you have a kind, pure heart,’ Marco said, raking his hands in agitation through his already dishevelled hair. ‘I know now that you would never be capable of such deception—but, as you said last night, I judged you by my own despicable standards.’

  ‘Your family had been destroyed by Primo,’ Claudia said, desperate to ease his pain. ‘No wonder you were cautious.’

  ‘I wasn’t cautious. I was obsessed,’ Marco said. ‘I told myself I was giving you the benefit of the doubt. But I realise now that my hatred of your family was so strong that I was just waiting for you to trip up.’

  He stopped pacing and looked down at her, making eye contact.

  ‘I’d fallen in love with you—that’s why it hurt me so much when I thought you had betrayed me,’ he said.

  ‘So you wanted to hurt me in return.’ Claudia’s voice was so quiet she could hardly hear it herself.