Page 10 of Innocent's Wedding Day with the Italian

‘And if you’re one minute late getting it done then...’ She snapped her fingers and smiled. ‘I go outside to the press and sing like a canary.’

An hour after Rebecca had spontaneously decided to torment Enzo by camping in his villa until the shares of her grandfather’s business were legally hers, and serious regret had kicked in.

Immersed in her tiny little mini power trip, she’d forgotten the reasons why she’d been so desperate to flee.

As soon as they’d agreed on a time for Enzo to get the shares transferred into her name he’d disappeared to get things in motion. She’d been left staring at the walls of the room he’d proposed to her in ever since.

Before she’d moved in a week ago, when the school year had come to an end, Rebecca had visited this villa a grand total of six times. She couldn’t remember her first real impression of the villa Enzo called home. She’d been too stunned at being flown to Florence in a private jet and then amazed at the scale and richness of his home for any real thoughts to penetrate. She’d known he was rich but hadn’t comprehendedhowrich. The next evening, he’d proposed...

She yanked at her hair so hard that when she moved her hand away, blond strands had woven between her fingers. She wouldnotthink of his proposal, or how he’d had to ask her three times before she’d grasped what he was saying.

‘Why?’ she’d asked dumbly.

Why, why, why, why, why. The story of her entire relationship with him.

‘Because I can’t imagine my life without you in it,’ he’d replied with a sincerity she’d believed.

Once they were engaged, she’d given up trying to comprehend and instead let her imagination run riot. In her mind, children had popped out of her in a procession of love, this richly imposing villa with its abundance of glass and marble slowly transforming into a nursery filled with tattle-tales and hair pulling and scratching and biting and cuddles and giggles and mischief. They’d spent much time together in his London penthouse and Enzo had taken her for long weekends to his apartment overlooking Times Square in New York, but it was here in Florence that they would live and raise their family.

Unable to bear the memories and broken dreams any longer, she headed outside into the balmy evening.

I can’t imagine my life without you, she mimicked under her breath as she stomped past the secluded swimming pool and the clay tennis court to the vast landscaped grounds at the rear of the villa. The cicadas had just stopped singing for the day, so the only sound was the gentle breeze rustling through the trees that formed the perimeter of Enzo’s grounds and ensured absolute privacy.

At the far end, hidden from the villa, was a hanging double egg seat. Rebecca barely glanced at it as she parked her bottom on the curved marble bench close by. Three nights ago she’d sat on that egg seat with Enzo, her legs hooked over his thighs, trying her best to tempt him into making love to her as the seat gently swung them. It made her core throb to remember how she’d cupped his straining hardness through his trousers, rubbed her nose along his throat inhaling his delicious woody cologne, and provocatively whispered—

‘There you are.’

Shoulders sagging, she closed her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. It took every ounce of resilience to evoke nonchalance into her voice. ‘Here I am. Have you started the process?’

‘Yes.’ He sat at the other end of the bench, far enough away that there was no danger of their bodies accidentally touching. But not far enough to stop his alluring scent from dancing into her airways.

Awareness threading through every part of her, she crossed her legs tightly. ‘Nothing else you need to do for it?’

‘For now, everything is in hand.’

It had to be the night air magnifying the effect of him, heightening her awareness, making her yearn to close the distance between them and...

Unable to bear it, she jumped to her feet and made to leave. ‘Good.’

Before she could escape him, he said, ‘I have had the possessions you left at the hotel delivered here.’

Images of the sheer white negligée she’d planned to wear that night flittered into her mind’s eye. She quickly blinked it away and said stiffly, ‘Thank you.’

‘They have also sent me CCTV footage of the woman who delivered the package to you.’

‘I’ve told you already, I don’t care.’

‘It was my mother.’

CHAPTER FOUR

REBECCA’SHEARTTHUMPEDat this. Her mind jumped to the svelte raven-haired woman who’d welcomed her into her palatial home with a warm embrace that had touched her heart and eased her fears. She doubted anyone met their future in-laws without a smidgeon of panic and Silvana Beresi had gone out of her way to make Rebecca feel welcome...

Her thumping heart changed direction and plummeted as the implications of what Enzo had just told her suddenly made themselves clear.

She turned to face him. ‘Your mother?’

His back was ramrod straight, palms pressed down firmly by his thighs, splayed fingers gripping the bench. He gave a brief, grim nod.

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