Page 25 of Bound By The Italian’s 'I Do'

James’ only physical reaction to this was the slight raising of an eyebrow. ‘And when will you want the ceremony?’

Gianni winked at Issy. ‘Right now would be great but I appreciate that’s unreasonable so as soon as possible. If anything can be fast-tracked then do it—money is no object if palms need to be greased.’

James pulled his phone out of his pocket. ‘I’ll get onto it now.’

‘A drink while we wait?’ Gianni suggested to Issy.

The beatific smile returned. ‘Champagne would be fitting.’

The honours done, eyes locked together, they toasted each other and each drank half their glass.

Come on, Issy,fold, he mentally urged her.You know neither of us will go through with this charade.

How much longer until Gianni roared with laughter and admitted this was all just a wind-up, Issy wondered. She almost felt sorry for the captain working so hard to make a fallacy happen, but it was only when he covered the speaker on his phone and asked for their passports that the first twinge of doubt hit her.

She sipped on her second glass of champagne telling herself not to be silly. It didn’t matter how much money Gianni had to grease palms, marriage was not something that could be fast-tracked. Any minute now and the captain would regretfully tell them it couldn’t be done before Gianni flew back to the UK, and then they would both pretend to be disappointed and Gianni would have no choice but to back off from her physically for the rest of their time together. She would just have to think harder for ways to entertain him. The yacht was a veritable party palace—even its name denoted that—so in theory it would be easy.

Theory though, as she’d come to learn since arriving in the Caribbean, was no guarantee of success when put into practice.

A member of the crew came in with a sheaf of freshly printed-off papers in her hand, which she gave to the captain. Still talking on the phone, he riffled through them, then beckoned Gianni over. Their voices were too low for her to hear but when Gianni’s gaze directed itself to her, there was a calculation in it that stiffened her resolve not to be the one to throw her hands in the air and say this had gone too far.

Stifling laughter, she drank more of her champagne and watched him do something on his phone that she suspected involved transferring money. Excellent.

A stronger pang of doubt hit a short while later though when the captain started laughing to whoever he was now talking to on the phone. The laugh and the tone his voice had now adopted reminded Issy of her father’s the time she’d been playing on the floor of his study while he’d been conducting a business deal. He’d taken that same lighter tone and laughed in the same manner right before he’d ended the call. He’d been so happy with the deal he’d concluded that he’d scooped Issy up and spun her in the air.

She caught Gianni’s eye. He’d topped them both up with the last of the champagne then seated himself across from her, an ankle resting on a thigh, an arm strewn across the back of the sofa, the very epitome of nonchalance.

The devil raised his glass to her.

She raised hers right back.

‘We’re all set,’ James said a minute later, rising from the table he’d set himself up on. ‘We just need a couple of witnesses—I’ve sent a message to my officers—and we’re good to go.’

The vaguely smug look that had been on Gianni’s face while they’d waited, like that of a chess player waiting for their opponent to realise they were heading for a loss, flickered. He straightened. ‘You can marry us now?’

The captain shrugged. ‘It’s cost you a lot of money, but I have the authorisation.’

Gianni somehow kept his features straight as he swore loudly to himself. This had gone too far. Issyhadto fold now. He looked back at her. ‘Ready to marry me?’

Eyes not leaving his face, she drained her champagne. ‘Why not? Like you said, it’ll be fun... Unless you have cold feet?’

‘No cold feet from me.’ He wouldnotbe the one to fold.

Two men in navy shorts and pale blue polo shirts with the same emblem as the crew had on their uniforms came into the lounge.

Gianni got to his feet. ‘We need a ring.’

‘Two rings.’

Issy got to her feet and realised she was a bit wobbly. Half a bottle of champagne on an empty stomach was probably not her best idea, but seeing as she was still sharp enough to recognise that, she wouldn’t worry about it. This actually had become fun, and she giggled at the absurdity of it all, and giggled too, to think of Gianni wasting oodles of his money on a marriage that wouldn’t take place. ‘Any spare paper?’ she asked the captain.

When he gave her a sheet, she knelt at a coffee cable and quickly ripped two strips off it. Each strip she rolled lengthways between her fingers until it resembled a long wriggly worm, then tied each one into a circle, which she held out to Gianni with a flourish. ‘There,’ she said, flashing a grin at him. ‘Two makeshift wedding rings.’

‘You’re ready to do this?’ he reiterated.

He wanted her to back out. Heexpectedher to back out. She could see it in his eyes. And it was that expectation which filled her with serene defiance. Gianni had started this game of chess and it was up to him to put an end to it.

It was only when he clasped her hand and together they faced the captain that she realised neither of them was prepared to back down.

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