Page 189 of Modern Romance Collection May 2024 Books 1-4

With superhuman effort, he swallowed the curse surging up his throat. Elena had orchestrated it perfectly, forcing his hand from beyond the grave with her stipulation. She knew Domenico would never willingly relinquish ownership of the palazzo, the only home he’d ever known, especially not to the blood relatives who had denied and rejected him, and the last thing she’d want either was her beloved palazzo ending up in the hands of her estranged sister. For both of those reasons she’d known full well he would doanythingto prevent that from happening, including reuniting with Rae.

Which was exactly what his aunt had wanted. How many times had she prodded him to go to London, talk to Rae and fix whatever had broken down between them? So often that he’d lost count, but, since he’d flatly refused to do so, she’d decided to take matters into her own hands.

Devious and manipulative as it was, he found he couldn’t be angry with her. Even in death, Elena was still trying to protect and take care of him in the same way she always had and, eternal romantic that she was, she’d believed Rae wasthe onefor him. No doubt she’d thought that she could prompt a permanent reunion by forcing them back together for an extended period of time.

But, however much Domenico hated to disappoint Elena, that wasn’t going to happen.

Rae had walked out on him without a backward glance. She had shown herself to be as careless and unfeeling as the mother who’d abandoned him on someone else’s doorstep. There would be no second chance.

He would never open himself up to more anguish. If there was any other option other than reconciling with Rae, he would take it. But he knew that nothing other than him and Rae being visibly happy together in his palazzo in Venice would satisfy the esteemed Vincenzo D’Aragona, the man Elena had named as executor of her will and therefore the man who would make the final decision on whether Domenico’s circumstances complied with the will. He was a thoroughly unimpeachable character who had counselled Elena ever since her husband’s death, with unfailing loyalty and affection. Domenico had no doubt that he would follow her wishes absolutely.

Even if D’Aragona had been a less noble character, Domenico was astute enough to know that anything less than the appearance of wedded bliss would leave him vulnerable to a future legal challenge and he wouldn’t risk the palazzo in that way. It meant too much to him.

His conviction on that was stronger than anything he felt about Rae or the wretched will.

Closing his eyes and rubbing his temples, he faced the irrefutable facts of the situation and plotted his next step. There was only one.

‘Where are you going?’ Alessandra asked as he made a sudden and decisive move towards the door without a word to her.

‘To talk to my wife.’

He really should have spoken with Rae immediately after the reading had ended, because he’d known all along there was only one way out of this mess. But he had needed a moment—several moments—to himself to process it, something he bitterly began to regret as he arrived on the ground floor salon and scanned all four corners, only to find that the room was empty.

With dread starting to roil in his stomach and that loud voice in his head berating him for leaving her alone, Domenico set his powerful legs in motion and raced into the next room and then the next, but in his gut he already knew the search was pointless.

Rae was already gone.

Rae pushed her sunglasses atop her head to keep her long hair from flying in her face as the water taxi raced across the open water to Marco Polo Airport. Yet as she imagined the violent reaction Domenico would have when he realised she had slipped away without a word—again—the speed felt nowhere near enough and she willed the boat to go faster.

Casting a quick look over her shoulder, the reassurance she felt that there was no sign of a vessel powering after her was hollow as she knew that by now Domenico had probably realised she had taken off and would be minutes away from—if not already—hunting her down.

Rae felt awful for sneaking away, but really, what other choice had there been? Elena’s bombshell stipulation in her will had changed everything, and now that Domenico’s inheritance of the palazzo was contingent on their union—onher—she had known at once there was no way he was going to let her leave.

And she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t!

She had been back in Venice less than twenty-four hours and there had been too many moments in which she’d caught herself falling back into her old ways. And not just physically, as the previous night attested, when Domenico’s touch had penetrated her with embarrassing speed and ease. But emotionally too. For a brief moment back at the palazzo, after the will reading, Rae had been preoccupied with all that it meant for Domenico, reflecting on whathemust be feeling and whatheneeded, prioritising that over what was best for herself. In the blink of an eye, she’d reverted to the Rae of six months ago, to the wife who never spoke up for herself, who hadn’t been brave enough to demand that her needs be met, who hadn’t known herself well enough to even know what those needs were.

But she wasn’t that person any more. The issues that had arisen in their marriage had been enlightening, forcing her to take a good look inwards and consider the life she wanted to have and the kind of woman she wanted to be and, unwilling to let all the agony and heartache of the breakdown of her marriage be for nothing, Rae had wasted no time in fighting to become that person on her return to London.

Reconnecting with her ambition to become a bridal designer, Rae had dusted off her pencils and thrown herself back into the creative process of designing. No longer willing to wait for life to happen to her, she had even screwed up enough courage to contact the woman who’d once offered to invest in her should she ever decide to embark on a career in bridal design and, after her positive response, had been busy making plans for a full-blown collection. Immersing herself in her passion and with her eyes fixed on the bright future that she wanted for herself, Rae had regained her confidence and her voice.

It had never been her intention to surrender those aspects of herself, to lose herself so thoroughly in being with Domenico and the responsibilities she bore as a Ricci bride. But she’d loved him so deeply and wanted so badly to make him happy that, little by little, all else had slipped away.

When she’d become aware of how adrift she’d been feeling, she’d wanted to tell Domenico, to find a way to change. But he’d always been so closed off, always ready to retreat from any intimacy that wasn’t physical, and Rae had been scared of being shut down yet again, scared of having to face how tenuous their relationship was. Running had been easier than challenging him, easier than confronting the hard truths about their marriage, but in her heart Rae knew she should have tried harder to have that conversation. A lot harder.

It was a regret that surfaced often, and whenever that thought did poke at her she comforted herself with the reassurance that she had changed and would not lack that courage or conviction again.

But she had, she realised with a nauseating thud of her heart.

Rather than stay at the palazzo and talk with Domenico about their situation, she had panicked and run away.Again.

The water taxi drew up to the airport. Rae thrust a handful of euros into the driver’s hand and stepped up onto dry land, that sick feeling continuing to churn in her stomach as she pulled up the handle of her case and strode across the concrete concourse. Only to suddenly find she could take no further steps.

Because if she left like this she knew it would be another regret that haunted her. Not just because she would be condemning Domenico to the loss of his treasured home, but because running away wasn’t the answer. It hadn’t been last time and it wasn’t now either. If she truly believed she had changed, and wanted others to appreciate those changes in her too, then she needed to prove herself. Prove that she was different, that she was stronger. That she wasn’t a coward.

Sinking down onto a bench to allow time for her thoughts to settle, it was there that Domenico found her not fifteen minutes later. Standing before her, he towered over her, casting her in the shade of his big body that even in that moment had her breath catching in her chest.

‘I expected you to be on the first flight out of here by now,’ he said, his eyes flickering over her as though unsure if she was real.

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