Page 190 of Modern Romance Collection May 2024 Books 1-4

‘That was the original plan.’

‘So what happened?’

‘I realised that running away wouldn’t solve anything. We have to face this.’

She saw something—surprise, perhaps—ripple through his dark eyes before he sat down beside her, her body jolting a little at the sudden nearness and the way the air seemed to change, thicken, with his presence.

‘I’m glad you understand what needs to happen next.’

Rae angled her face towards him, injecting a look of warning into her eyes. ‘I haven’t agreed to anything, Domenico.’

‘Of course you have,’ he drawled all-knowingly. ‘Otherwise, you wouldn’t be sitting out here. You would be sitting on a plane, waiting to take off.’ He looked at her almost sympathetically. ‘It’s only for a handful of months, Rae. Six at the most. Not an enormous amount of time in the grand scheme of things.’

He was right. Six months was not such a long stretch, but her heart gave a kick anyway because it was a struggle to spend six minutes in his proximity without a fever stirring in her blood.

‘Aren’t you at all concerned that we haven’t been together for the last four months?’ she queried, because that was a pertinent fact that he seemed to be conveniently ignoring. ‘That I have not been in this city, or your home, or on your arm for all that time? Do you not think that’s going to present a few problems? One day I’m not here and thenboom, Elena’s will stipulates it and suddenly I’m back.’

‘Elena’s will is not common knowledge. It’s a private family document.’

Rae made a noise of dissent. ‘You and I both know these things have a way of getting out. Making the rounds as a rumour.’

‘I’ve never much cared for rumours,’ he drawled, his eyes gleaming down at her in a way that made her head spin and all coherent thoughts scatter like marbles. ‘And your argument will not be a problem as nobody is aware that you walked out on our marriage.’

‘Nobody is aware...’ Rae stammered in stunned disbelief, her mind doing backflips at the preposterousness of his statement. ‘How is that possible? I left. I haven’t been here for months. I haven’t been seen. Nobody questioned that?’

‘I’m not in the habit of making public declarations about my personal life,’ he stated in that cool, unconcerned tone of his that stymied so effectively the questions he didn’t want to answer. ‘And something about my general demeanour seems to prevent the majority of people from probing too deeply. Those who did ask, I made a vague reply about you having a family situation that required your personal attention and attendance. We can continue with that line, say the issue is no longer pressing and, given the situation here, it was time for you to return home.’

‘And which of my sisters do you intend to saddle with some mysterious prolonged drama that required my attention for four months?’ she demanded. ‘Maggie or Imogen?’

Domenico replied with a pragmatic lift of his shoulders. ‘The particulars are hardly necessary. The less said, the better. All that matters is that you are back with your husband and living a happy life.’

The panic that had settled once she took control of herself started a slow climb up her windpipe again.

‘Domenico, we are not just going to pick up where we left off, like nothing has happened. We can’t... I won’t,’ Rae stammered.

‘Nor would I want to. I’m not talking about us resuming our married life, Rae,’ he clarified with a sharp edge of impatience to his words. ‘The idea of that is as offensive to me as it apparently is to you. I’m talking aboutpretending. Putting on a blissfully happy show—a show good enough to convince Vincenzo D’Aragona. I’m confident the pretence won’t be too arduous for you. After all, you did spend considerably longer than six months pretending to be a devoted, happy wife.’

‘And just how many remarks like that would I be expected to put up with in our joyous reunion?’ Rae queried with a lightning flash of her blue eyes.

‘The truth is painful, Rae, isn’t it? But worry not, our contact over the next six months will be limited. Of course, in public we’ll need to present a deliriously in love front, and we’ll need to attend a fair number of public events, but in private we won’t need to spend any time together at all.’

‘Why six months? Our anniversary is in four and a half.’

He slanted her a brief look. ‘We can’t suddenly split up the day after our anniversary, Rae. Think how that would look. No, we need a buffer period too, so that when we do separate it looks real. Plus the Ricci Ball is a month after our anniversary. It would look better if we attended that together. Some time after that we can start to dissolve the marriage. Leak some rumours of fighting and unhappiness. The strain of Elena’s passing, the stress of stepping into her shoes. How busy I am. There are plenty of things we could say. Then we’ll divorce. I’ll have the palazzo and you can...go your own way.’

‘You have it all worked out, don’t you?’ she breathed, conceding to herself that it did sound plausible.

He tensed, impatience and determination emanating from him in one jagged pulse after another. ‘I’m not prepared to lose the palazzo, Rae. It’s means too much to me. So I will do whatever it takes. But I can’t do it on my own. I need your help. I need you to stay here.Please.’

His use of that word was startling in itself, because Domenico never pleaded for anything. He would consider it an abhorrence to do so, a lowering of himself that he simply wouldn’t entertain, even in thought. It revealed how desperately in need he was of her cooperation, a desperation that became even clearer when he turned the power of his gaze on her and the restless emotion brimming in the dark depths of his eyes tugged at every heartstring.

‘As soon as the inheritance is settled, we will go our separate ways and I will ensure you are rewarded with a generous sum.’

‘I don’t want your money, Domenico.’ Rae scowled, loathing that his opinion of her had sunk so low that his instinctive assumption was that she could be swayed by the promise of a payout. His money had never mattered to her.

She was, however, intrigued by the other opportunities that a return to Venice presented. The way she had departed had left matters unfinished between her and Domenico. She had shut him out of her mind as best she could, but she was not over him, no matter how much she insisted to her sisters that she was. Wasn’t that why she had not yet taken the step of approaching a lawyer to initiate a divorce? But perhaps these six months could help her find that longed for closure. Perhaps being around him and not sacrificing or compromising anything of herself would reassure her that she had become a different person and that she had made the right choice in leaving. And when the six months was over she would be able to leave the right way, with her conscience and confidence intact and her emotional freedom reclaimed. Helping Domenico was the right thing to do, she didn’t doubt that, but it was those ways in which she could help herself that convinced her.

‘And you don’t need to dangle any more incentives. I’ll help you. I’ll be your wife again.’

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