‘You’re a Torrente now. That is not how we treat guests, welcome or otherwise.’ Sardonic dark deep-set eyes held hers.
Her heart-shaped face flushed with embarrassment. ‘I’m not joking, Sergio. Get rid of her. I don’t care how you do it, just do it. ‘
There was hard resolve in his steady appraisal. ‘No,’ Sergio countered. ‘Now calm down.’
Kathy walked away from him. She was trembling with hurt and anger and resentment. She lifted a glass of wine to occupy her restive hands. Her mind and her imagination were on fire with suspicions and fears that there was more going on between Sergio and Grazia than she knew. What was she supposed to think? That everything Grazia had said was true? That Sergio was content for the other woman to attend his wedding because it was part of his revenge? After all, his brother was surely no less guilty of betrayal, but Sergio refused even to speak to Abramo, never mind see him. Grazia, however, was now getting a divorce and, if she was to be believed, that was at Sergio’s request. Was that divorce her first step back into Sergio’s affections?
Suddenly Kathy was totting up facts and fearing the worst. What was the explanation for Grazia’s amazing insider knowledge? How had she known where Kathy would be the night before? Or about Ella’s existence? Was Grazia in regular communication with Sergio? Her skin turned clammy. How could Grazia just appear at Kathy’s wedding? Why was Sergio protecting the other woman? On this particular very special once-only day, which should have been Kathy’s day alone?
All smirking smiles and pearly teeth, Grazia sauntered up to Kathy. ‘Trouble in paradise already?’ she mocked, making it clear that she had been watching the bride and groom closely.
The next few seconds were for-ever after etched in Kathy’s memory. Someone nudged her from behind and tipped her forward. Her arm jerked and, although she contrived to retain her hold on the glass, red wine flew out of it and splashed in a wide arc across Grazia’s white dress, leaving stains like drops of blood.
‘Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry!’ Kathy gasped, reaching out in haste to snatch up a napkin from the nearest table.
Grazia shrieked as if she had been attacked and refused to let Kathy near her. While the blonde examined the stains with enraged turquoise eyes she hissed at Kathy in vitriolic Italian. Kathy just didn’t know what else to do or say but then, mercifully, Maribel surged up out of nowhere like a one-woman rescue squad. Undeterred by Grazia’s noisy histrionics, Maribel swept the blonde woman off through the crush and out of sight. A transitory silence as sharp as a thunderclap lay across the ballroom like the quiet before the storm. Then the whispers broke out and grew into a buzz of comment.
A hand closed over Kathy’s and drew her round, detaching her fingers from her death grip on the napkin. She looked up at Sergio in bewilderment. Lean, powerful face impassive, he swept her out onto the dance floor in silence.
‘It was an accident,’ Kathy told him unevenly.
Sergio said nothing. He didn’t need to. His dark golden eyes radiated disbelief.
‘Say something,’ Kathy urged tightly.
‘I’m not into arguments as a spectator sport,’ Sergio delivered silkily.
Her spine became more rigid. Pain and fury melded inside her until she was literally shaking with the force of her feelings. She pulled back from him with a fixed smile designed to fool any interested onlookers. Engaged in a fierce effort to keep her emotional turmoil hidden, she walked away.
Eyes stinging with tears, Kathy hurried upstairs to the suite she had occupied. Sergio strode through the door only seconds in her wake. ‘What the hell did you think you were doing?’
‘I didn’t throw it at her. Honestly, I’ve had it with you,’ she breathed rawly. ‘You won’t speak to your brother even though he’s a nice guy, but you roll out the red carpet for that spiteful witch at my wedding!’
‘When did you meet my brother and reach that conclusion?’ Sergio shot at her.
‘You’re never there when you’re needed and you always assume I’m in the wrong,’ Kathy told him thickly, ignoring his question. ‘Grazia cornered me when I was out last night and bitched at me. She knows too much, she even knows about Ella. This was supposed to be my day and you’ve wrecked it!’
His ebony brows pleated in surprise. ‘Last night? You ran into Grazia in Florence?’
‘You wreck everything…every single thing,’ Kathy added, mentally piling up his every sin, laying them out for judgement and finding him guilty at that moment without any possibility of forgiveness. ‘Now I’m going to pack and I’m returning to London—’