Page 5 of Innocent's Wedding Day with the Italian

She stood there for the longest time, staring at the pack who, with one comment from her, had the power to bring Enzo Beresi down. His philanthropic, good-guy persona would be destroyed with just eight words.

He was marrying me to steal my inheritance.

The swelling of pain and rage shifted and hardened, and injected her spine with steel. She walked slowly towards the pack, barely blinking as the camera flashes grew stronger.

He was marrying me to steal my inheritance.

And then she stopped.

Rebecca knew what he’d done. She knew why he’d done it. What she didn’t know was how.

She spun back to the villa.

The reception room was empty of life. Treading her way carefully around the wreckage of the marble statue, she found Enzo at the bar at the far end of the sprawling double-height living room that looked out over the vast, manicured grounds she’d imagined their children playing in. He was pouring himself a drink, his back to her.

The impulse to turn back around and leave like she’d intended was strong but she fought it. She deserved answers. Sheneededanswers.

‘I’ve changed my mind.’

Her words flew across the huge room and landed on him like an electric pulse, making his head snap back.

‘I’m still leaving but first, you owe me answers,’ she said stonily. ‘I’m going to get changed and pack my things. While I’m doing that, you can pour me a gin and tonic and arrange for a car to collect me. When I come back down, we will have one last drink together and you will explain what it is you hate so much about me that you thought I deserved to be treated with such cruelty.’

Other than the movement of one shoulder, he didn’t react to her stony words or turn around to face her, and for that she was glad. It meant he didn’t see the tear trickle down her cheek. Wiping it away, she went back up to her room.

It had taken three women over an hour to sew Rebecca into her wedding dress. Using her nail scissors, she ripped her way out of it in seconds. Then she stripped off her underwear and stood before her full-length mirror.

What was it about her body that had repelled him into not consummating their relationship, she wondered miserably. She remembered the moment she’d told Enzo that she was a virgin. It was after their third date. He’d invited her back to his London apartment. He’d been so smooth. So suave. So flipping gorgeous. She’d already been smitten by that point. She’d accepted his invitation with butterflies like she’d never imagined existed loose in her belly, butterflies that had strengthened as they’d taken his private elevator to his penthouse. Then, when she’d crossed the threshold into an apartment more palatial than her wildest conjuring and he’d pressed her against a wall and started kissing her with such fervent desire, she’d responded with a heat so wanton andvitalthat she’d blurted out her virgin state before things went too far and she forgot to tell him later on.

He’d backed right off.

At the time, she’d taken him at face value, that her being a virgin meant they shouldn’t rush things. Once she’d accepted his proposal his next excuse had been that he wanted their wedding night to be the most special night of both their lives. She’d taken that at face value too, had beenthrilledat the romantic notion behind it, even if his absolute refusal to budge from it had driven her steadily insane.

‘Good things come to those who wait,cara,’ he’d often said with a cheeky wink that had always melted her insides. When she’d questioned why he’d never felt the need to wait for the legion of women who’d come before her, he’d answered with a simple, ‘They meant nothing to me, not when compared to how I feel about you.’

That morning, she’d woken buzzing with excitement at marrying him and practically giddy with anticipation that, finally, they would make love, had even done an internet search to learn the minimum acceptable time to leave your own wedding reception so you could slope off to bed with your new husband. That was before the package had been delivered and her heart smashed into smithereens of course.

Enzo had used her virginity as the excuse he needed not to bed her, and now she studied her naked body and naked face and wondered what he’d found so repulsive about them that he’d grabbed the first excuse that had come along to back off from having to make love to her. She knew she was a little on the skinny side but she couldn’t help that. And neither could she help her small breasts. Both were an inheritance from her mum. Not that he’d seen her breasts or the dark pink nipples that topped them. He’d felt them though. He’d even remembered to fake a groan before removing his hand from under her top. He couldn’t be repulsed by her pubic hair because he hadn’t seen that either, or even felt it. His hands had never roamed her skin below the waist. Gropes of her backside didn’t count.

She supposed he would have forced himself to make love to her and consummate the marriage. Yes, he’d have wanted the consummation done as quickly as possible. He wouldn’t have risked an annulment.

Even Enzo’s impatience to marry her as soon as was humanly possible had been a lie. The biggest lie of all.

Unable to stare at herself a moment longer, she stood beneath the shower and, as the hot water sprayed over her body, tried her hardest to scrub the day and all of Enzo’s lies off her skin.

Clean and dry, dressed in faded jeans and a loose black V-necked top with elbow-length sleeves, what she could cram of her clothes packed in one of the carry-on cases Enzo had bought for her first visit to Florence, Rebecca left her room for the last time, leaving behind the array of designer clothing rammed in her dressing room, all of which he’d bought for her. On her dressing table amidst the array of perfumes he’d also bought her, sat her engagement ring.

She was glad she was doing it this way rather than running away as had been her instinct. It was cleaner like this.

She would force Enzo to explain himself and then she would leave properly, with her head held high and her dignity intact.

She had the rest of her life to fix her shattered heart.

The marble fragments had already been cleaned away. Rebecca put her case by the front door. Peering through a window, she saw a large black car with blacked-out windows parked at the front. Her getaway car. She was quite sure the driver would run over the marauding press if necessary.

Ankle boots placed ready by her case, she padded her way back to the living area.

Her gin and tonic was waiting for her on a small round glass table but Enzo had disappeared.

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