Page 6 of Innocent's Wedding Day with the Italian

Taking a deep breath, she had a long drink of it and curled up on her favourite squishy round chair.

The composure she’d worked so hard to find almost shattered in sympathy with her heart at his appearance.

From the dampness of his hair, he’d showered too. His wedding suit had been replaced with a pair of faded jeans, and a V-necked black T-shirt. Like hers, his feet were bare.

A day ago, it would have sent a thrill racing through her that they had independently mimicked each other’s clothing. Now it made her stomach clench painfully.

Gripping tightly to her glass to stop the tremors in her hands betraying her, she had another long drink. How could he have paid such attention that he knew exactly how she liked her gin and tonic, even down to her preferred number of ice cubes?

She was forgetting his big brain, she reminded herself. How else could a thirty-three-year-old be a self-made billionaire without an oversized brain? And smarts. He had that in abundance too. The kind of smarts that came from a different part of the brain to mere cleverness. It was a combination that had fascinated her from their first real conversation in the hotel bar on that cold winter day. She remembered it so clearly, right down to the crackle of the log fire they’d sat beside nursing their hot drinks.

Shy with strangers—unless they were small children—Enzo’s open, gregarious nature and beautiful velvety voice had put Rebecca at an ease she’d never felt before. She could have listened to him speak for hours and she only realised she’d been watching the time pass with increasing trepidation when he’d asked if he could see her again and her delight and relief had bloomed like a flower under the bright rising sun.

But even then, even at that very first meet, had been the nagging question:Why me?This street-smart, clever, suave, gorgeous, rich man every woman in the hotel bar kept side-eying likedher? He wanted to seeheragain?

Deep down she’d known all along that it was too good to be true. If only she’d listened to that incredulous nagging voice all those months ago...

Enzo nodded at her glass.

She nodded back, finished her drink, put the glass on the table and pushed it towards him.

He stepped closer to take it. The crisp clean scent of freshly showered Enzo hit her. It was a scent that had greeted her so many times these last five months and which never failed to make her want to throw herself at him. Resisting that temptation since moving in had become a game, but it was no game now, and she curled deeper into the sofa and wrapped her arms around her calves.

Once he’d made them both another drink and warily placed her glass back on the table—she imagined the wariness came from him wondering if she was going to throw it at him—he sat on the edge of the two-seater sofa closest to hers, both feet on the floor, had a sip of his Scotch and then put his tumbler and a half-full bottle of Scotch on the glass table beside his seat.

Rebecca blinked away the memory created just four days ago when she’d laughingly said they would have to change the living room drinks tables when they had children. Glass tables and small children were a combination she’d thought best not tested. He’d laughed, and then turned his face away as if his mind had been captured by something else. Used to that strange quirk of his whenever she idly contemplated their future, she hadn’t thought anything more about it, but now she knew the truth. He’d turned his face away so she wouldn’t see the mockery behind the laughter.

She breathed in deeply, watching as he clasped his hands together and placed them on his lap.

His chest rose slowly before he looked at her and said, ‘Rebecca, I know it is hard for you to believe but I never lied about my feelings for you.’

‘Save your breath,’ she dismissed. ‘I’m not marrying you. My grandfather’s business shares will never be yours.’

‘I don’t care about the shares.’

Genuinely amused at the blatancy of his lie, she laughed, then laughed harder to see him flinch. ‘Does lying come to you as naturally as breathing? Don’t answer that,’ she added when he opened his mouth. ‘I’ll only assume it’s another lie.’

‘Rebecca...’

‘And stop saying my name before you taint it for good.’ He was the only one to call her Rebecca. To her parents she’d been Becs. To the rest of her family, friends, colleagues and distant acquaintances she was Becky.Everyoneshortened it. Everyone except Enzo. She’d adored the way her full name rolled off his tongue. To hear it roll off his tongue now hurt immeasurably.

His lips clamped together and formed a straight line, the bones of his jaw virtually breaking the skin.

She’d bet no one had spoken to him like this in a decade. Maybe that was part of the reason he was an unconscionable bastard. He should have known better than to mess with a primary schoolteacher. They were pros when it came to dealing with liars, even if the liars were generally three and a half feet high and struggled to do their own shoelaces up. She’d never imagined those lying traits could continue so long into adulthood.

She shifted in her seat, reached for her drink, crossed her legs and faced him properly. Forced herself to look at him properly. Dispassionately.

‘Here’s how we’re going to play it,’ she said in her best teacher’s voice. ‘I’m going to ask you questions and you’re going to answer them, clearly and concisely. Stick to the facts. Do not attempt to justify yourself unless I ask. If you have to think before you answer I will assume you’re lying. Do not speak to me offeelingsorlove, and don’t ask what I’m going to do about my share of the business but keep in mind that the way I’m feeling about you right now, I’m quite capable of taking advice as to how best to destroy the whole business with it.’

It had only dawned on Rebecca since taking her shower the power she held. At midnight she turned twenty-five and so would inherit half of her grandfather’s business, whatever that was, although she supposed the clue was in the name, ‘Claflin Diamonds’. She didn’t have to suppose that this was a business Enzo very much wanted all for himself. As if he didn’t have enough, what with the multiple businesses he owned outright and all the others he invested in. The business that had made him famous though, was his chain of high-end Beresi jewellery stores, all of which stocked bespoke, exquisitely made and ethically sourced jewellery enthusiastically embraced by the rich and famous. She would love to hear what his investors and customers thought about the ethics of him marrying someone for their inheritance.

‘My advice would be not to add any fuel to my anger. All I want from you is some honesty...’ She came close to choking. ‘If you’re even capable of it.’

CHAPTER THREE

FEATURESSETSOhard they could be carved from the same marble as the statue Rebecca had destroyed, Enzo slowly inclined his handsome face. ‘Where would you like me to start?’

I want you to start by telling me what I ever did to you that you could take my heart and use it as your personal plaything, you cruel bastard, she wanted to scream.

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