Italian Marriage: In Name Only (6 page)

S
HE
was exhausted, yet she couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she could see again the moment when Antonio had taken her hand in his to slip the wedding ring in place. And she remembered how she had felt when she’d looked up at him. The confusing myriad of emotional turmoil was still with her now, whirling around, plaguing her with painful bursts of feelings she couldn’t get a handle on.

She twisted the gold band around on her finger; it felt cold and unfamiliar, a little like Antonio’s mood since they had been pronounced husband and wife. But then what did she expect? she asked herself angrily—they didn’t even know each other. Even a kiss on the cheek and a glass of champagne would be out of place in this scenario. And anyway, even when he momentarily did come too close to her she could feel her whole body stiffen.

After the ceremony when they’d got on board his private jet he’d casually reached to help her adjust her seat belt and she’d frozen. He’d noticed, of course, and had probably found it amusing because he had told her to relax and had then added that he had no intention of eating her.

Ha, ha.

She pressed herself back now into the comfortable leather seat, tried to listen to the drone of the jet engines and allow
them to lull her, as they had Nathan. He’d been curled up on the seat beside her, fast asleep, for the past few hours.

She reached out and stroked a stray strand of hair back from his face but he didn’t stir. Poor little mite was exhausted. It had been a busy day for him; he’d even missed his usual afternoon nap. Victoria glanced away from the sleeping child over towards the other side of the plane where Antonio was sitting.

He’d been immersed in paperwork since take-off and now he was working on his laptop, the handsome features serious as he studied and made notes. As far as he was concerned the wedding was long forgotten—lost amongst the medley of other business he had to deal with. He could possibly even have forgotten that she was here with him at all, she thought sardonically. Because he hadn’t spoken one word to her since take-off.

Well, it suited her.

She just wished that when she closed her eyes she didn’t see again the moment when he’d looked at her and pledged to take her for his wife, forsaking all others.

He’d sounded so supremely confident and there had been no other emotion or expression in his voice—but of course there wouldn’t have been because he felt nothing, she reminded herself forcefully. The marriage was a sham, a means to an end. She’d noted the vows they made had been carefully selected and cut to avoid promises for a long commitment.

By contrast her voice had been almost a whisper and not in the slightest bit steady. She didn’t know why she had felt so…emotional…. After all, she knew the score—she had agreed to the terms.

Her reaction made her feel foolish.

Anyway, it was over now, she told herself fiercely, and it was best forgotten.

He glanced up and as their eyes met she felt the electrical charge of the connection right down to her toes.

‘Feeling any better?’ he enquired.

‘How do you mean?’ She frowned.

‘You seemed a bit tense earlier,’ he remarked casually.

‘Did I? I don’t know what gave you that idea.’ She kept her voice light, desperate to salvage some pride from amongst the fragments of her emotions.

‘Good. Ready for something to eat, then.’

It was more statement than question. She watched with a feeling of unease as he closed his laptop and started to clear away the papers on the table in front of him. She wasn’t sure she could eat, especially if he expected her to sit opposite him; she felt too wound up.

He glanced over at her again and she swiftly pulled herself together. She couldn’t tell him that! ‘Yes, OK.’

‘Good, I’ll call the flight attendant and see what she can rustle up for us.’ He pressed the button on the side of his seat. Then indicated to Victoria that she should take the seat opposite him.

‘I’ll…just freshen up. Will you keep an eye on Nathan for me? His seat belt is secured and I won’t be a minute.’

‘Sì.’
He inclined his head.

Unfastening her seat belt she stood.

‘Use the bathroom in the master suite,’ he told her as he continued to fold away documents. ‘You should find your bag has been placed in there for you.’

‘Master suite?’ She looked at him in puzzlement and he pointed to a door at the far end of the cabin.

She’d never been on an aircraft like this before in her life. It was weird being the only passengers—a world removed from the economy flight she’d travelled on all those years ago. She opened a door and found herself looking at a large bed.

The place had every modern amenity—wardrobes, and dressing table, and the en-suite bathroom even had a shower.

She went through and closed the door and her reflection stared back at her from the full-length mirror opposite. Her clothes were creased and she looked pale and tired, her hair escaping from the confines of the clips that held it back from
her face. Hastily she scraped it back into an even tighter ponytail and then took off her glasses and splashed her face with some cold water.

She wondered if she should change. Her suitcase was fastened onto a stand behind her, and on impulse she opened it. She’d packed a pair of jogging pants and a T-shirt. They would probably be more comfortable to wear now.

Victoria had just finished changing when the plane hit a small pocket of turbulence and her spectacles slid from the vanity unit and hit the floor with a clatter.

Hurriedly she bent to retrieve them. The lenses seemed fine but the arm was hanging off, either the screw had come loose or it had fallen out from the hinge. And as she now couldn’t see properly, she couldn’t even try to fix it.

The perfect ending to the perfect day, she thought with exasperation. Now everything she looked at was viewed through a slight blur. She wondered if Antonio could mend them for her and then stood indecisively with them in her hand. She didn’t want to ask him. But then she hated to be seen without her glasses; she felt naked without them.

The plane hit some more turbulence and it galvanised her into action. It didn’t matter about her spectacles; she needed to go back and check that Nathan hadn’t woken up. He could be frightened or crying for her.

So glasses in hand she returned to the cabin. By the time she got back, the plane had smoothly levelled out and to her relief Nathan was still fast asleep. Antonio was absorbed in another business report and he didn’t look up as she slipped into the seat opposite.

‘I took the liberty of ordering dinner for you,’ he murmured as he made some notes on the margin of one of the pages. ‘Cannelloni followed by beef Wellington. So I hope you are not a vegetarian.’

‘No, that’s fine.’

‘Good.’ He continued on with his work.

She watched him through a slight misty haze, then cleared her throat nervously. ‘You seem very busy.’

‘I’ve got a lot of Italian business to catch up with, ready for when I get home,’ he answered distractedly without looking up.

‘When you have a minute…’

‘Yes…?’

Still he didn’t look up, and he only seemed to be half listening to her. She was quite glad. She didn’t want his full attention.

‘I dropped my glasses and they…well, they seem to have fallen apart.’
A bit like me,
she thought as he glanced up.

She couldn’t see the expression on his face clearly but she was aware that she did have his full attention now, and she could feel her skin starting to tingle with the heat of embarrassment.

‘Do you think you could try and fix them for me? I can’t see properly, otherwise I’d do it myself.’

Antonio was taken aback for a few moments. She looked totally different. She had rather a lovely shaped face, he thought as he stared at her in startled bemusement. A pert little nose, and high cheekbones that gave her an almost classical beauty. And she looked younger than her years, with skin that was fine grained and smoothly perfect—strange how he hadn’t noticed that before. He watched as her long dark lashes swept down over her eyes.

The vulnerability of the look wasn’t lost on him.

‘Can you fix them for me?’ she asked him again huskily. ‘Please.’

He took the glasses from her silently and examined them.

The tiny coil that held the hinge in place had slipped and it was a simple matter to just twist it back into position.

‘Can you do it?’ she asked anxiously as she watched him.

He flicked a glance back over at her; there was a part of him that wanted to say no. A part of him that wanted to say,
Why do you want to hide such a nice face behind such monstrous contraptions?
But then he reminded himself that it was none of his business. She was here for business purposes and
to help him teach his father a lesson, nothing more than that. So instead he continued to fix them and slid them back across the table to her. ‘Yes, all done.’

‘Thanks.’

He watched as she slipped them back on, her manner self-conscious.

The stewardess arrived with their food and the bottle of wine he’d ordered earlier.

‘Will there be anything else, sir?’ she asked as she efficiently smoothed a white linen tablecloth out and placed crystal glasses and silver cutlery down before them.

‘No, that’s all for now, thanks, Sally,’ he replied as he packed the last of his papers away

‘OK, enjoy.’ She smiled at him and then with a polite nod in Victoria’s direction disappeared.

‘Wine?’ Antonio lifted the bottle and looked across at her.

‘Just a small glass, thanks.’

Victoria watched as he poured the drinks.

The lighting in the cabin was low and the blinds were down on the window beside them. The situation felt strangely intimate—but of course it wasn’t, she reminded herself. It was just the weird circumstances. Under normal conditions Antonio probably had a selection of beautiful women whom he would much rather dine with.

The thought made her feel completely ill at ease.

Well, hey, she’d prefer to be anywhere but here herself, she thought fiercely. But they were thirty-nine-thousand feet up in the air and, apart from one sleeping child, quite alone and stuck with each other.

She wished that Nathan would wake up and give her an excuse to escape from the table. She darted a glance over at the child but he was still out for the count.

‘Good job you fed him earlier,’ Antonio remarked as he caught her glance.

‘Yes. He’s exhausted.’

‘Been a busy day for us all.’

She nodded and looked down at the food in front of her. It looked unexpectedly appetising.

‘It won’t be as good as the food in your restaurant but it’s passable as far as plane food goes,’ Antonio told her. ‘Try it.’

She did and was pleasantly surprised. ‘Last time I ate on a flight, the food tasted like cardboard—but you’re right, this isn’t bad. The pasta is possibly a little oversalted.’

‘Really?’ He looked over at her teasingly, and immediately she felt her skin colouring up with heat.

‘Sorry—professional habit. I’m afraid cooking for a living tends to turn you into a bit of a food critic.’

He smiled. ‘Actually, I think you’re right about the pasta.’

‘Well, you’d be the expert on that.’

‘I suppose I would.’ He inclined his head. ‘The food in Italy is probably the best in the world. But then I am biased. You can give me your impartial view when we get there.’

‘I probably will without even meaning to.’

He studied her quietly for a moment. When she talked about her work and the business of food she was a different woman—more confident, vibrant even. It was as if she only allowed herself to come to life on certain subjects.

What had made her so introverted on a personal level? he wondered.

‘So how long have you been running the restaurant?’ he asked suddenly.

‘About two and a half years.’

‘You were pregnant when you started it?’

She nodded but didn’t say anything more.

‘And you were on your own?’

Again she just gave a nod of her head as an answer.

‘That must have been quite tough. Starting a business is daunting even under ordinary circumstances.’

She shrugged, and her emerald-green eyes seemed to flare with fire. ‘Nothing worthwhile is easy.’

He knew she was throwing up barriers, that she wanted him to stop questioning her. It was written all over her. But Antonio was not one to back away from something he wanted and he found that, for some reason, he wanted to know what made her tick.

‘So what about your child’s father…he didn’t help you at all?’

For a second Victoria remembered the expression on Lee’s handsome face when she’d told him she was pregnant.
‘You’ll just have to get rid of it. You didn’t think I would want it, did you…? Hell, Vicky, you were only ever a one-night fling.’

The memory made her go cold inside. OK, she’d only slept with Lee once but he had taken her out for a few months before that night of madness.

After they’d slept together he hadn’t contacted her again and she’d realized that one night was all he had wanted. But she’d still believed she had a duty to tell him she was pregnant. That he had a right to know that he would be a father. She hadn’t expected anything from him, but such cold dismissal had been a shock.

She should never have got involved with him in the first place, should have known better. She had been naive and foolish back then, desperately looking for love and affection in the wrong place.

Well, she’d learnt her lesson about that.

‘I take it he didn’t want to know when you told him you were pregnant?’

The question was too much.

Antonio saw the glimmer of raw pain in her eyes, before it was quickly veiled behind dark lashes.

‘That’s really none of your business, is it?’ She said the words quietly. Yet her voice was filled with dignity. ‘You and I are married as part of a…a deal. And that deal doesn’t give you the right to question my morals or my life choices.’

‘You’re right, it doesn’t.’

‘So don’t!’ Again there was that fulminating glare from eyes that were ice green now, extraordinary eyes, almost catlike.