‘What a wonderful way to wake up,’ Vito groaned into her tumbled hair. ‘I never dreamt that having a wife could be so much fun. Are you joining me for breakfast?’
Behind her hair, Holly rolled her eyes. She was married to one of those horrid people who came alive around dawn and acted as though it were late morning. Either she stayed in bed and saw very little of him or she changed herself to fit. She lay listening to the shower running and watched him emerge swathed in a towel, the long, lean length of his unspeakably beautiful body mostly exposed. Her mouth ran dry as he disappeared into the dressing room and opened another door. Closet doors were rammed back, drawers opened and closed. She scrambled out of bed and ran for the shower before she could be tempted to backtrack and fall back asleep. Dabbing on minimal make-up, she brushed her hair and extracted some of her new clothes to wear because a pair of jeans and a washed-out cotton top didn’t seem quite sufficient for the grandeur of the Castello Zaffari.
Clad in beautifully tailored chinos and a filmy blouse in autumn shades, she slotted her feet into canvas shoes and went out to join Vito. He looked as he had the day she had confronted him at the Zaffari Bank: cool, sophisticated, remote, very much the banker. And at the same time he contrived to look amazing whether he was slotting cufflinks into his cuffs or brushing his cropped black hair.
‘Who wears cufflinks these days?’ Holly prompted.
Vito shrugged. ‘We all use them at the bank.’
‘Not at the cutting edge of fashion, then,’ she mocked, although his dark suit was incredibly well tailored to lovingly shape wide shoulders, a broad chest, narrow hips and long, powerful legs. Just looking at him, she wanted to touch him.
‘Breakfast,’ he reminded her, heading for the door.
The castello was silent until they reached the ground floor where vague signs of industry could be heard somewhere in the distance. Silvestro entered the hall and looked taken aback to see them. He burst into Italian and Vito responded with quiet amusement.
‘Why does everybody think I should be staying home today?’ he quipped, leading the way into a sunlit dining room.
‘Maybe...because you should be?’ Holly dared. ‘Just married and all that...’
Silvestro fussed round the table making unnecessary adjustments while Vito translated all the many options Holly could choose for breakfast. As the older man sped off Vito lifted one of the financial newspapers piled at his end of the table and began to read it and Holly wondered whether she should have stayed in bed. She wanted to go and see if Angelo was awake but she didn’t want to leave Vito lest he leave for the bank while she was gone.
She had already decided to confront Vito about that phone call she had overheard Apollo making but she had intended to pick and choose the right moment, which might well have been while they were still wrapped round each other in bed. But something about the way Vito lifted that newspaper after dragging her downstairs awakened her temper.
‘I overheard Apollo talking on the phone to someone at our reception yesterday.’
Vito lowered the newspaper and frowned at her. ‘Overheard?’ he questioned.
Below the onslaught of his dark glittering gaze, Holly went pink. ‘Well, eavesdropped... I suppose.’
‘Are you in the habit of listening in on other people’s phone calls?’
‘That’s not really relevant here,’ Holly fudged in desperation, feeling like a child being called to account for misbehaviour. ‘Apollo was so obviously talking about us...about our marriage. He was saying that you hadn’t had a DNA test with Angelo and that there had been no pre-nup—’
‘You’re trying to shock me with facts?’
Holly scrambled out of her seat and squared her small shoulders. ‘Apollo was sneering about his belief that you trust me.’
‘Obviously I won’t be trusting you in the vicinity of confidential phone calls,’ Vito pronounced, deadpan.
Somehow the confrontation was not proceeding in any expected direction and Holly was stung into anger. ‘Apollo thinks our marriage is a sham!’
Vito elevated an ebony brow. ‘I think the only two people who can comment on that probability are the two of us.’
‘Apollo seemed to believe that you had only married me to get me to move to Italy. He thinks you’re planning to go to court and try to claim full custody of our son.’
‘I’m not sure whether to be more offended by my friend’s low take on my morals or by my wife’s,’ Vito imparted very softly, marvelling that she could have placed credence in such an unrealistic plot, which smacked very much of Apollo’s sensational outlook on life. ‘Do you think I would do that to you and Angelo?’
‘That’s not the point,’ Holly protested.
‘It is exactly the point,’ Vito incised with ruthless bite. ‘Why else are you challenging me with this nonsense?’
As Silvestro reappeared with a tray Holly sank back down into her seat. She was angry and mortified at the same time but clung to the comforting fact that Vito had called her concerns ‘nonsense’. While food was being laid on the table, Holly studied her pale pink nails and suspected that one day she might possibly throw a coffee pot at Vito for his sarcastic cool.
‘To clarify matters,’ Vito mused as Silvestro retreated, ‘Apollo was most probably talking to a mutual friend called Jeremy, who happens to be a lawyer trained in family law. Although it is ridiculously unnecessary, Apollo tries to protect me from the gold-diggers of this world. If it is any consolation he was no keener on Marzia. He would never marry without a pre-nuptial agreement in place. I deemed it unnecessary because I would not marry a woman I couldn’t trust. You’re being naive and insecure.’
Holly bridled at that blunt speech. ‘I don’t see how.’
With precise movements that set her teeth on edge, Vito poured a cup of black coffee. ‘I would not deprive my son of his mother. I was sent to boarding school abroad at the age of seven, Holly. I was incredibly homesick and unhappy. Do you honestly think I would subject Angelo to anything similar?’
Holly studied her cup of tea with wooden resolve. Her face was so hot she could feel her ears heating up in concert. No, she could not see him planning to do anything that would damage their son. Boarding school abroad at the tender age of seven? That was brutal, she thought helplessly.
‘I love my son. I will try hard never to hurt him and I know how much he needs his mother,’ Vito framed with measured cool. ‘I am also an honourable man. I am not deceitful in personal relationships. I married you in good faith. If eavesdropping on Apollo can rouse your suspicions to this level, what are our prospects for the future? Trust has to work both ways to be effective.’
Holly swallowed hard. Vito was annoyed with her for doubting him and for paying heed to a stupid phone call she shouldn’t have been listening to in the first place. She wasn’t sure she could blame him for that. On the other hand his determination to head to the bank the day after their wedding was hardly likely to boost her confidence in his attitude towards either her or their marriage.
How much did Vito value her? Just how unimportant was she in his desire for a marriage that would not interfere in his inflexible daily schedule? To thrive, all relationships needed compromise, commitment and the luxury of time spent together. Didn’t he appreciate that? And if he didn’t, was she clever enough to teach him that she could offer him something more worthwhile than sex? That was a tall order.
Vito rose from his chair and studied her in brooding silence. ‘By the way, we’re dining out this evening with friends.’
Holly looked up in surprise. ‘What friends?’
‘Apollo and his girlfriend and Jeremy Morris and his wife. They’re currently staying on Apollo’s yacht with him.’
The prospect of spending an evening in Apollo Metraxis’s radius appealed about as much to Holly as a public whipping. She frowned, studying Vito with incredulous eyes. ‘Knowing how I feel about Apollo, why would you arrange something like that?’
Vito compressed his stubborn mouth. ‘He’s a close friend. He made a mistake. You need to get over it.’
Temper threw colour into Holly’s cheeks. ‘Do I, indeed?’
Vito gazed expectantly back at her. ‘I want it all smoothed over and forgotten...’
‘Right, so that’s me got my orders, then.’ Holly lifted her chin.
‘It’s not an order, Holly, it’s advice. I’m not dropping a lifelong friend because you don’t like him.’
‘And isn’t there some excuse for that dislike?’
‘Apollo didn’t tell any lies about how we met. Remember that,’ Vito retorted with succinct bite.
A painful flush illuminated Holly’s face.
‘Why shouldn’t we have a night out?’ Vito fired at her in exasperation. ‘I thought you would enjoy getting dressed up and socialising—most women do.’
‘That’s not my world,’ Holly breathed in taut objection.
‘It is now,’ Vito pointed out without hesitation, his impatience unconcealed. ‘You need to make an effort to fit in. Why do you think I bought you all those clothes? I want you to have the expensive trappings and to enjoy having them.’