Page 36 of The Maid Married To The Billionaire

‘Skye is not a housewife. She’s a teacher.’

‘But surely you won’t be working?’

‘We’ll have to see,’ Skye said equably, knowing very well that in the not so distant future she would be looking for another teaching position, keeping up her own life and independence to lay the basis for the time when she would be living alone again.

Chiara sighed like someone in pain when she saw the engagement ring and raved about it. By the time she departed, Skye was heartily bored with discussing wedding finery but she was looking forward to seeing the gowns that were to be brought to the house for her.

‘Chiara has an acid tongue,’ she remarked thoughtfully once they were alone again.

‘Her parents went through a very nasty divorce when she was a teenager, and she developed that edge afterwards.’

‘She’s kind of possessive of you,’ Skye continued doggedly. ‘Did you date her at one stage?’

‘No, but I slept with her when I was fifteen. She was my first. It was casual, friendly, nothing either of us viewed as important at the time.’

‘I knew it.’ Skye groaned. ‘It was the way she looked at you. I didn’t like it, but I can ignore it. Your grandmother did say she’s very good at her job.’

‘I love your practicality,’ Enzo confided, tucking her face into his chest, where she drowsily breathed in the scent of him like an unrepentant addict as they climbed the stairs.

Skye pulled her head back. ‘I have to go to court tomorrow afternoon for the non-molestation order to be granted against Ritchie.’

‘I know. Your solicitor advised me. I’ll accompany you.’

‘No, I don’t want that. You shouldn’t get involved,’ Skye told him anxiously. ‘Ritchie will be there as well and I don’t want you associated with me for his benefit. He’s dangerous.’

‘Associated? We’re getting married!’ Enzo countered squarely.

‘Stay out of it. It’s my mess and I will deal with the consequences. Imagine what the press could do with it if you were recognised and we’d both be embarrassed if his attack on me came out in public.’

Enzo frowned. ‘You’ll have a protection team with you tomorrow.’

‘Of course.’

Enzo compressed his lips. ‘I’d prefer to be there in person to support you.’

‘I know you would, but some things are mine to handle.’

In the midst of the very busy two weeks that followed the children came down with chickenpox and Skye ended up sleeping in their room every night to be within easy reach when they woke up crying from feverish dreams and needing soothing. The non-molestation order was granted and Ritchie was no longer allowed to contact or approach Skye.

That had been a relief but the sight of Ritchie, bitter, flat-eyed and threatening in the courtroom, had unnerved her. She marvelled that she had ever believed he loved her or that she had loved him. His expressions in court had shown his nastiness and she shuddered, thinking of how close he had come to killing her. No matter how hard she had stood tall on the outside, on the inside she had still felt sick and scared at being that close to him again.

The night before their Italian wedding and within hours of their flight to Italy, however, disaster struck. Enzo’s mobile rang while they were eating and he sprang out of his chair, his voice rising in volume as he demanded repetition and clarification. Pocketing his phone, his face stamped with tension and urgency, he strode to the door.

‘What’s happened?’ Skye jumped up out of her seat, registering that there was some sort of crisis afoot.

‘The factory’s on fire!’ Enzo bit out rawly. ‘The security guard has been taken to hospital. Someone knocked him out.’

‘Good heavens...what do you want me to do?’ It was almost their wedding day, she thought in dismay.

‘It’s doubtful that I’ll be able to fly out with you now. I’ll join you as soon as I can. Don’t worry... I’ll make it,’ Enzo promised grittily.

Skye swallowed a groan and raced out to the hall after him. ‘Enzo!’

If the factory had gone up in flames, it would be very hard for him to leave the UK. ‘Maybe we should postpone the wedding,’ she suggested reluctantly as he swung back from the front door.

Enzo angled his tousled dark head back to her, his dark eyes unusually grave. ‘No way, not when we’ve finally got everything ready to go.’

Skye couldn’t sleep and got up early, creeping around, keen to avoid waking up the children. She reckoned she would be flying out to Italy alone without Enzo and meeting his grandparents without him present to ease the introduction. At the same time though, she would have Alana, Isabel, the bright and cheery young nanny Enzo had hired, and Shona and Brodie with her. She would manage, she told herself, she always did.

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