Remy felt proud of Angelique in a way he had never quite expected to feel. He had always thought her spoilt and wilful, yet seeing how she treated the more junior staff on the shoot with respect and kindness made him realise he had seriously misjudged her.
You’re falling for her.
No, I’m not.
Yes, you are. Big time.
Remy’s phone vibrated in his pocket but instead of ignoring it he welcomed the distraction. He didn’t even check the screen to see who was calling as he stepped outside the cathedral to answer it. ‘Remy Caffarelli.’
‘I want you and your brothers here tomorrow for a family meeting,’ Vittorio said.
Typical. His grandfather always expected everyone to dance around him at a moment’s notice. Remy would go when he was good and ready and not before. ‘I can’t drop everything just because you fancy a family get-together.’
‘Where are you?’
‘In Paris with Angelique. She’s working.’
‘She wouldn’t know how to work unless it was flat on her back.’
Anger tightened every muscle in Remy’s spine. ‘That’s my wife you’re insulting. I won’t have you or anyone speak about her like that.’
‘If you don’t come here tomorrow I’ll tell the press your marriage to that little black-haired slut is nothing but a sham.’
Remy felt a cold hand of dread grab at his guts. It wasn’t the deal with Robert Mappleton he was most worried about. What would happen to Angelique’s new-found career if that sort of leak got out before her first shoot was even over?
How on earth had Vittorio found out? His brothers would never have betrayed him. He had sworn them to secrecy.
There could only be one person who would want to do the dirty on him even if it hurt his only daughter in the process.
Henri Marchand.
* * *
Angelique came over to where Remy was standing at the back of the church once her shoot was over for the day. ‘I didn’t expect you to stay the whole time. You must be bored out of your brain. There’s nothing more tediously boring than watching mascara dry— Hey, is something wrong? Why are you frowning like that? Are you cross with me?’
Remy forcibly relaxed his frown. ‘Sorry, ma petite. It’s not you. It’s my grandfather. He’s insisting on a family meeting tomorrow. He won’t take no for an answer. Can you ask for a day off? I know it’s short notice.’
She frowned at him. ‘He wants me there? But why?’
‘I’ll explain it later. I don’t want anyone listening in. Do you think you can get tomorrow off?’
‘I’m sure it’ll be fine. There’s been a delay on the next collection. Mackenzie just told me about it. We’re shooting at a private château in Vichy the day after tomorrow so I’m all yours till then.’
Remy put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. ‘Best news I’ve had all day.’
* * *
Angelique didn’t have time to do anything about the pregnancy test because Remy had organised a flight straight to Rome. She tried to put her worries to the back of her mind. She was probably imagining her symptoms anyway. Stress always made her stomach churn. And being late with a period was certainly not unusual; it came with the territory of dieting and travelling across time zones.
And, to be fair, Remy had been keeping her up late at night, not that she was complaining. The nights in his arms were the highlight of her day. Not that he had restricted their passionate interludes to the evenings: mornings, mid-morning, lunchtimes, afternoons and evenings had been spent in a variety of activities that had made every cell in her body shudder with delight.
It worried her that it might soon be over. His deal was done and dusted. The only thing keeping them together was her modelling contract—a contract she didn’t even want.
Rafe and Poppy arrived just as they were getting out of the car at Vittorio’s villa, so there was no chance of slipping away and finding out one way or the other about the result.
Rafe was distinctly cool with Angelique but Poppy was anything but. She wrapped her arms around Angelique and gave her a warm hug. ‘It’s so lovely to meet you.’ She pulled back to look at her. ‘Oh. My. God. You’re so beautiful! I’m having such a fan moment. I feel I should be asking for your autograph or something.’
Angelique loved her already. ‘Congratulations on your marriage.’ It was the first thing she thought of to say.
Poppy’s toffee-brown eyes twinkled. ‘Congratulations on yours.’ She leaned in close so the boys couldn’t hear. ‘And all that rubbish about it being a sham just to save your necks doesn’t fool me for a second.’