Never Gamble with a Caffarelli(41)

Angelique remembered too well the shock of feeling alone. The utter desperation she had felt at seeing her mother’s body lowered into the ground on the dismally wet and grey morning of the funeral was something she would never forget. The build-up of emotion inside her chest had felt like a tsunami about to break. But somehow she had kept it in because she hadn’t wanted to disappoint her father. He had said she must be brave and so she was. But inside a part of her had died and gone with her mother into that cold, black hole in the ground.

Angelique blinked away the memory and said, ‘It must have been devastating for you when your parents were killed.’

A screen came down over his face. ‘I got over it.’ He moved past her to go back outside to get their bags. ‘Stay inside out of the cold. I won’t be long.’

Had he really got over it? He had only been seven years old. It was young for any child to lose a parent, yet he had not lost one but both. Angelique suspected that, like her, his restlessness and wild, partying lifestyle had come out of that deep pain of being abandoned so suddenly and so young. He was anchorless and yet shied away from anything that would tie him down.

His grandfather Vittorio could not be described as a nurturer. He was a cold, hard, bitter man with a tendency to lose his temper at the least provocation. She hadn’t seen Vittorio for a number of years, but in the old days when she and her father had been regular visitors to the Caffarelli villa in Rome she had given him a wide berth.

Of the three boys Remy seemed the most willing to deal with his grandfather. He visited him more often than his brothers and seemed to have a better relationship with him than either Rafe or Raoul, possibly because Remy had always relied on his natural charm to win people over.

Angelique wondered if Vittorio had found out about their marriage yet. It had been three days and as far as she knew Remy hadn’t called or spoken to him other than what he’d said on camera when the press had stormed them.

What did his brothers think? Had they contacted him and told him what a fool he was for marrying someone like her? She had always been a bit frightened of Rafe, who was so much older, but Raoul had always been nice to her.

Would he too think it was the worst disaster in the world for Remy to be locked in a marriage with her?

* * *

Remy was dusting the snow off his shoulders as he came inside when his phone rang. He knew it was his grandfather because he had set a particular ringtone to Vittorio’s number. He deliberately hadn’t called Vittorio before now to talk about his marriage to Angelique because that was what his grandfather would have expected, and Remy had learned over time that it was more tactical to do what he didn’t expect. It gave him more leverage with the old man and, he liked to think, a measure of respect. ‘Nonno, nice of you to call. What’s new?’

‘I have a newspaper in front of me that says you’ve married Angelique Marchand.’ His grandfather’s voice had that thread of steel in it that used to terrify Remy as a young child. ‘There’s also a photo of you together outside some hotel in London.’

‘Is it a nice photo?’ Remy asked. ‘She’ll be hell to live with if it isn’t.’

He heard Vittorio’s intake of breath. ‘Is this a set-up? One of your pranks to gain publicity or something?’

‘It’s no prank. We’re married and we’re staying married.’ Until I have that Mappleton deal in the bag. Not that he could tell his grandfather that. If old man Mappleton got a hint that Remy’s marriage to Angelique wasn’t authentic, he would pull the plug on any negotiations.

‘You always did have a thing for that girl,’ Vittorio said.

Remy hadn’t realised he’d been so transparent about lusting over her in the past. He’d thought he’d done a pretty good job of disguising it. ‘Yes, well, you’ve seen what she looks like. I’m only human.’

‘Why didn’t you just screw her and get her out of your system?’ Vittorio continued. ‘Why on earth did you marry her? Have you got her pregnant or something?’

Remy gave himself a mental shake when an image of Angelique with a baby bump came to mind. ‘No, I did not get her pregnant. I’m in love with her.’ Ouch. That hurt. Not sure I want to say that again. It might make it happen.

Perish the thought!

Vittorio gave a disdainful laugh. ‘The day you fall in love is the day hell freezes over or I get accepted into heaven. Take your pick; neither of them is going to happen. You don’t have the capacity to love. You’re exactly like me in that regard. Love is for emotionally weak people who can’t survive without being propped up by someone else.’