It Happened In Rome: The Forced Bride / The Italian's Rags-to-Riches Wife / The Italian's Passionate Revenge. Julia James

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СКАЧАТЬ murmured, his mouth twisting. ‘Is that what you were going to say?’

      ‘No,’ she said. ‘Especially if I thought he was forcing himself on someone who didn’t want him.’

      ‘Do not let it trouble you, Emilia,’ he said softly. ‘I am sure a man that you loved would do none of these things. That you would fill his heart to the exclusion of all others.’ He smiled at her. ‘But until you find this prince, you will continue to be my wife. And—do your duty. As I shall do mine.’

      ‘You’re quite adamant, aren’t you?’ she said bitterly. ‘There’s nothing I can say—nothing I can do to persuade you to release me from this—unspeakable situation?’

      ‘You exaggerate, cara,’ Raf drawled. ‘You have spoken on the subject quite frankly. And it is hardly a life sentence,’ he added with another faint shrug.

      ‘Although it already seems like it.’ She looked back at him, her green eyes clouded with resentment. ‘Does your future wife realise, signore, how easily you break your promises? And what a casual approach you have to commitment?’

      ‘When I make my vows to her, Emilia, they will be kept.’ There was a sudden harshness in his voice. ‘And, when she is all mine, I will belong to her as completely. There will be no other—ever. Now, do you have anything more you wish to ask?’

      ‘No,’ she said quietly, aware of an odd twist of the heart. ‘If she’s prepared to settle for your future fidelity, that’s her concern.’ After all, someone as glamorous and sexy as Valentina Colona would hardly see me as any kind of rival, even in the short term.

      She swallowed. ‘At the same time, I feel really sorry for her husband.’

      ‘There is no need, I assure you. He is content to settle for what he has.’

      ‘Then there’s nothing more to be said.’ Emily got to her feet. ‘And I’d be better employed checking on dinner.’

      ‘One duty at least that you can perform without reservations, carissima,’ he said blandly and picked up his book.

      In the kitchen she attempted to relieve her feelings by slamming the oven door and clanging saucepans together, but her sense of mingled anger and bewilderment persisted unabated.

      I can’t bear what’s happening to me, she thought swallowing. I have to get away from him. But how?

      Even without the snow, she couldn’t think of a place to go where he wouldn’t be able to trace her and follow. Financially her options were limited too. Until her twenty-first birthday, she had no direct control over her affairs and she was beginning to realise how deeply this could matter.

      Up to now, admittedly, Rafaele had kept a light hand on the reins, as well as strictly maintaining his distance, so she’d been able to stifle her resentment at the arbitrary way his dual role in her life had been imposed, in the sure knowledge that it would soon be over.

      Now, in the space of twenty-four hours, there were suddenly no more certainties and her countdown to freedom had turned into a test of her endurance that she dared not fail.

      Demanding the annulment had been a supreme mistake. What on earth had made her think she could challenge him like that and get away with it?

      I was angry, she thought. It was as simple as that. And maybe I simply wanted to make him angry too.

      But why? That was the question that she could not answer.

      Had she allowed the stories in the gossip columns to get to her at last? Was this some kind of—personal backlash because she found herself being air-brushed out of his life in this arbitrary way? An impulsive but misjudged bid to remind him that she still existed?

      Yet why should she even care—when she herself was supposed to be in love with Simon?

      None of it made any sense, she thought unhappily.

      Yes, she’d been stupid to attract his attention so blatantly, when she could just have accepted his terms and faded quietly out of the picture, which was, after all, what she’d always expected would happen.

      Even so, she’d never dreamed her attempt to needle him would have such dire consequences. At most, she’d expected an icy rebuke. Never this kind of retribution.

      But then, what had she ever really known about Rafaele Di Salis, except that her father had trusted him, even though the younger man had owed him some mysterious debt?

      And, apart from the stories in the scandal sheets, and in spite of the enforced intimacies of the previous night, Emily thought, biting her lip, he was still pretty much of an enigma to her.

      For instance, all she knew about his family background was that his parents were both dead, and that was information that she’d gleaned solely from her father, who’d warned her that it was not something that Rafaele cared to speak about. He’d also suggested that she shouldn’t ask questions, but wait until her husband chose to discuss the subject with her.

      Only he never had.

      But when we’ve been together before, we’ve barely had conversations, thought Emily, let alone discussions. Talking is a sharing thing, and I must have known even then that it was dangerous to share. That I needed to keep him at arm’s length.

      I wish I’d also realised how unwise it might be to make him angry.

      For a moment it was as if her eyes blurred suddenly and she ran an impatient hand across them. She couldn’t afford any sign of weakness. She’d tried rejection and she’d tried pleading with him, all to no avail. Now, all that was left to her was survival.

      I will get through this, she told herself, and I’ll walk away when it’s over without a backward glance. I have to.

      The living room was empty when she went in to set the table but, just as she’d finished arranging the cutlery, Raf appeared from the cellar with a handful of candles and a selection of pottery holders.

      ‘Oh.’ Emily hesitated as he put two of them on the table and lit them. ‘Isn’t that a little extreme? After all, this is hardly formal dining.’

      ‘You saw the lights flickering, si?’ There was faint impatience in his tone.

      ‘Well—yes.’ So it hadn’t been her eyes, after all.

      ‘I think we may lose the power,’ he went on. ‘And I thought it would be safer to make other arrangements now rather than later.’ He paused. ‘I would rather not test the cellar steps in the dark.’

      ‘No,’ she said with constraint. ‘Of course not.’

      His brows lifted. ‘You don’t like candlelight?’

      She shrugged evasively. ‘I’d prefer it not to be a necessity.’

      His glance was faintly mocking. ‘You favour romance over practicality, cara? How very sweet. I am encouraged.’

      ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘given the choice, I’d like you to fall down the cellar steps and break your neck, signore.’ And heard his low laugh follow her back to the kitchen.

      As СКАЧАТЬ