Page 12 of 2 Books in One Bundle

What they would make of her he couldn’t care less—so long as they accepted that he’d met the terms of his grandfather’s pernicious and damnable will, and at last released his grandfather’s funds to him, so he could finally take control of all his business affairs.

‘I’m sorry I’m late!’ she announced breathlessly.

It was obvious she’d run up the stairs, as her colour was high, her breathing laboured. She was wearing a dress, though it was as tentlike as all her clothes—designed, it was obvious, to conceal her figure, not reveal it.

A passing thought struck Dante that of all the women he knew she was alone in not constantly demanding his admiration of her looks. Connie was the complete opposite. If anything, he’d sensed she didn’t like him looking at her, so he tried not to make her self-conscious, always ignoring her less than chic appearance. Even so, he found himself noticing how the blue of her dress was bringing out the blue of her eyes. A surprisingly deep blue...

He frowned slightly.

How might she look with a little make-up, a better hairstyle, and more fashionable clothes?

He shook the thought from him. It was not relevant to the marriage he was about to make. Or the one she was about to make. As her grandmother’s carer she had more on her mind than the way she looked and he respected her for that, for her dedication to her grandmother’s needs, making her grandmother her priority.

She was still addressing him with apology in her voice. ‘Gran was restless. She’d picked up that I was going away and was upset. The nurse you helped me engage is very nice, but Gran doesn’t like change, I’m afraid.’ She swallowed and looked away. ‘I got a bit upset too. In the end the nurse told me to go, as me being upset was just upsetting Gran more. I’m... I’m sorry.’

Dante felt a pang of pity for her. ‘Please, there is no need to apologise,’ he said. ‘I am sure your grandmother will settle in a day or two,’ he went on, making his tone reassuring. ‘And you will be home, I promise you, within a week. Now, shall we...?’

There was, after all, no point in delaying matters. They had to go through with this, each of them for their own compelling reasons.

So let’s just do it.

He felt his breath tighten in his chest, his jaw set like steel. This had to be done—he had no choice.

He nodded at the door leading through to the register office itself. He saw his bride take another breath—a deeper one. Suddenly he realised she looked terrified. His own tension dropped away and he moved to her, took her hand in his. It felt clammy, but he gave it a comforting squeeze, looking down at her reassuringly. He didn’t want her to feel terrified at the prospect of marrying him—she didn’t deserve that.

‘It will be all right. I promise you,’ he said calmly. ‘This is good for both of us—for you and for me. You are doing it for your grandmother. Remember that.’

He gave another brief, reassuring smile, then dropped her hand, opening the register office door and ushering her through. Inside, the registrar and several officials, two of whom would serve as their necessary witnesses, were waiting for him.

‘Ah, Mr Cavelli and Miss Weston—there you are,’ the registrar greeted them warmly. ‘Are you both ready to proceed?’

Dante heard his bride give a gulp, but he gave the smooth, expected answer and they took their places.

The ceremony was brief, and legally binding. His bride’s voice was faint, but she made the required responses in a clear and businesslike manner. As did he.

It did not take long.

And then it was done.

He was a married man.

His inheritance was finally his.

And his bride, the new Signora Cavelli, stood at his side.

It felt completely unreal.

‘Do we fly to London and then to Milan?’ Connie asked in the car, as they headed for the local airport.

‘No, we go direct,’ Dante answered her.

She frowned. ‘Oh? I didn’t know you could fly from here straight to Milan.’

‘You can if you fly by private jet,’ came the answer.

‘Oh,’ she said again. And then she didn’t know what else to say.

Perhaps there wasn’t any reason to say anything at all. Dante had got out his phone and was busy texting, completely absorbed.

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