Page 2 of ‘I Do’ for Revenge

Vittorio frowned. ‘Are you aware that your uncle’s business is disintegrating as we speak?’

Flora’s gut clenched. Her unclehadseemed more preoccupied than usual lately. Her aunt even less civil. They’d stop talking as soon as she walked into a room and rudely ask her if she wanted anything. The fact that she’d agreed to a marriage of convenience at her uncle’s behest seemed to have been forgotten pretty quickly.

‘No, I wasn’t aware. I’m not privy to his business dealings.’

‘You were privy to this marriage arrangement, weren’t you? You were under no illusions. You knew you had a way out in six months if you wanted it. You had nothing to lose.’

She’d agreed to the marriage for lots of reason but also because there’d been the get-out clause after six months. She’d always felt indebted to her uncle for taking over her guardianship after her parents and younger brother had died, tragically. He’d put a roof over her head.

It hadn’t been perfect by any means, but she’d been able to stay with family, and in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

Her uncle could have left her to an institution, or boarding schools.

But then he wouldn’t have had access to your trust fund,pointed out a little voice.

Flora reminded herself that he’d needed that money for her education and maintenance. To pay for the house staff to stay behind on holidays to watch her while they’d travelled around the world.

The fact that there was nothing left of her inheritance, according to her uncle, just showed how expensive it had been to take care of her. As he’d pointed out to her, this marriage was to be as much about protecting her future as for his benefit. He’d told her that he couldn’t live with himself if anything happened and he couldn’t provide for her or give her an inheritance. This marriage would protect them both.

She’d owed her uncle, for everything he’d done for her. But today that debt had ended in spectacular fashion.

‘You asked for the six-month get-out clause,’ Flora pointed out.

‘My insurance in case things didn’t go as planned, so I wouldn’t be caught out. Your uncle didn’t like it, but he didn’t have much choice.’

In case things didn’t go as planned.

Flora wasn’t sure what that meant. The acute embarrassment hit her again. The anger resurfaced.

‘How could you?’ she demanded emotionally. ‘How could you do something so heartless and cruel? Do you have any idea how it felt to stand there and wait? How humiliating?’

Vito looked at the woman before him. Something twisted a little in his gut. His conscience. So he did have one after all.

But then he felt something more disturbing. An awareness. Up to this point, because he’d known what he had planned, he hadn’t engaged much with Flora Gavia, seeing no point in acting out a charade of courtship. And she’d seemed happy that he’d kept his distance. The engagement had been short in any case, only a month from announcement to today.

So, he hadn’t really noticed her much, aided by the fact that she’d always seemed to hover on the edge of the room, or on the edge of a group, never planting herself in front of him, as most women did.

They’d had dinner together with her uncle and aunt, but her uncle had dominated the conversation. All Vito had had was an impression of Flora that she was quiet and a little mousy. Brownish hair. Brownish eyes. Pretty...but unremarkable.

But suddenly, here in his office, she was transformed. Maybe it was the dress, fussy as it was. Maybe it was make-up. Her hair was pulled back and sleek, showing off her face. She had high cheekbones. And her eyes were much bigger than he remembered and not a dull brownish at all, but a startling shade of gold and brown. Long lashes.

Her mouth was far more lush than he recalled. Lush enough to make him stare. To wonder how on earth he’d missed this before. An electric charge sizzled in his blood.

His gaze drifted down over the dress, where her breasts moved up and down with her agitated breath. They were high and full. Small waist. Shapely hips. A classic feminine figure and one she’d kept hidden under shapeless clothes before now.

Basically she’d never made an impression. He’d never wanted to look twice. But now he was looking. Twice.

She shook the bouquet at him again. ‘Well? Don’t you have anything to say?’

Vito dragged his gaze back up. Petals were strewn all over his floor. Her veil was askew, and then, as if realising that, she made a face and pulled it from her head, throwing it down. Her sleek chignon was coming loose and Vito had the absurd urge to go over and loosen it completely so that her hair fell down over her shoulders.

He’d never seen it down and the fact that he noticed, and, worse, had a desire to see it down, was very irritating.

She said, ‘Answer me. Please.’

Vito looked at her. There was a catch in her voice this time. His insides curdled. Was she going to cry? He went clammy at the thought, his head filled with unwelcome memories of his mother’s grief-ravaged face. Unwelcome memories of not being able to fix her pain.

But Flora didn’t look as if she was going to cry. She looked...confused.

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