Page 35 of Innocent's Wedding Day with the Italian

Enzo’s shock at the change in her tone was apparent in the way his head reared back before he stilled and his pupils darkened with anger. ‘My mother’s reputation is everything to her. My humiliation is her humiliation.’

‘I’m not disputing that—she must have factored that in when she decided to drop her firebomb and decided it was a price worth paying, but even so, it’s a bit neat and easy for you to point the finger of blame at Robina rather than take responsibility for your own actions.’

His stare had become like granite. ‘I do take responsibility. Full responsibility. I have done from the start.’

‘Then accept thatyousabotaged our wedding.’ Laughter that tinged on the hysterical burst out of her. She couldn’t help it, had no control over it. ‘Yousabotaged our wedding and put your business in danger, Enzo, not Robina. You told your mother when you knew she was biding her time to take her revenge. Maybe youdohave a conscience. Maybe that’s what drove you into telling her—deep down you wanted her to do your dirty work for you and save you the bother of having to make the confession yourself.’

As the taunts continued flying out of her mouth. Rebecca realised she was trying to provoke a fight. She wanted him to defend himself and shout at her, to call her cruel, disparaging names, give her something to latch onto to hate him for and stop the awful, desperate longing inside her to stay.

‘To be honest, I don’t really care,’ she continued. ‘I don’t care why you confessed to her or her reasons in exposing you to me, I’m just grateful that shedidexpose you as the liar you are and stopped me from making the biggest mistake of my life. The two of you are as bad as each other. Seriously, Enzo, don’t cut her off. You deserve one another.’

So intent had Rebecca been on saving herself from herself that she barely registered Enzo’s eyes had become devoid of all life and his features a blank canvas devoid of emotion, not until she found herself enveloped in the loudest silence of her life with the air between them so taut that she felt the slightest pinch would see it snap.

The silence stretched.

She tried to draw in a breath but her airways had closed.

Then his nostrils flared.

With a short bow of his head, he climbed off the bed in one fluid movement and reached for his shorts.

‘Get dressed,’ he said curtly. ‘We’re going back to the villa.’

The ride back to the villa was as different from the ride into the city as night was to day. Where earlier they’d ridden with a fizzing air of joy, the mood now had a distinctly different, darker hue. Enzo hadn’t spoken a single word since telling Rebecca to get dressed.

She’d dressed in the bathroom. She’d put her clothes back on calmly but when she’d tidied her hair in front of the mirror, there had been a tremor in her hands.

When she’d returned to the bedroom, Enzo had gone. She’d found him in the sterile kitchen looking out of the window, drinking a glass of water. His shoulder muscles had bunched before he’d turned to face her. She’d raised her chin, holding her breath at what she’d find in his eyes but finding...nothing. Suddenly frightened at what he was hiding behind his shuttered stare, she’d quickly ripped her gaze from him and looked out of the kitchen window. That’s when she’d seen what he’d been staring out at. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it earlier.

The kitchen window overlooked the cathedral where Rebecca had left him standing at the altar. The cathedral she’d humiliated him to the whole world in. And now, as he took the road that led to his villa, the press pack emerged in the distance just before Enzo turned onto the narrow dust track, and a stab of guilt cut through her.

He’dbrought this on himself, she reminded herself. Enzo. Not her. She had nothing to feel guilty about. She’d been nothing but a pawn, not only in the game between him and her grandfather but between Enzo and his mother.

But she wished now that the pain of her emotions hadn’t got the better of her and she’d chosen a less public way of calling the wedding off.

She hadn’t done it to punish him. Truth was, she’d been in no fit state to think at all. If she had been then she would have...

What? Given him a chance to explain?

Explainwhat? His side? There was no side, only the truth, and her grandfather’s will had revealed the truth. Enzo had never loved her. He was the worst of all liars. He’d used her for his own ends.

You could have given him a chance.

She closed her eyes. This was all pointless. She couldn’t change the past any more than Enzo could.

Knowing this didn’t stop her hand from flying to her throat when Enzo brought the Vespa to a stop beside the garage’s rear entrance and she looked at her watch.

Eleven fifty.

Her vision swam. Where had the time gone?

Closing her eyes to clear them, she took a deep breath and unstrapped the helmet.

Enzo made no move to take it off her. He simply stood with his hands rammed in his pockets, his jaw set, gaze fixed in the distance. His hair was sticking up in all directions.

Apologies for the home truths she’d flung at him formed on her tongue. Somehow, she bit back them back. She’d only spoken the truth. This stoniness, though, was coming close to unbearable.

Blurring him from her eyes, she pulled the helmet off then climbed off the Vespa. This was what she wanted after all. Distance between them. The ability to walk away on legs that didn’t stumble beneath her.

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