Page 13 of The Italian's Marriage Bargain

‘Why do you have to rush off?’ Luca asked. ‘Why can’t you at least stay and have some breakfast?’

‘Because, despite this morning’s huge advances in becoming a woman of the world, I’m still a soft touch when it comes to goodbyes.’ She flashed a smile but her eyes glittered with tears. ‘No regrets, Luca. I really mean that.’

‘So that’s it?’

Felicity nodded. ‘That’s all it can be, Luca. You live in Rome, I live in Australia, and that’s the smallest of the differences between us. Promising to keep in touch, to stay friends or whatever, would only cheapen things. We both know it isn’t going to happen.’

‘It could.’ His voice was so assured, so positive, for a second or two she almost believed him.

‘Let’s not kid ourselves, Luca. Let’s not make this any more difficult than it already is.’ Her voice deliberately brightened. ‘Who knows? Next year at the Santanno Hotel Awards it might be the Peninsula Golf Resort getting a plaque for “Most Improved Hotel” with my father on the stage receiving it.’

‘Would you come?’

‘I guess,’ Felicity said thoughtfully. ‘But then a year’s a long time—who knows where we’ll be then? I think some memories are best left, don’t you? You get on with your fabulous life and I’ll get on with mine. You might even read about me one day in the newspaper, when I make Accountant of the Year. One thing’s for sure, though. I’ll be reading the social pages with more than a passing interest now.’

She had said the wrong thing! The face that had been almost smiling suddenly darkened, and the mood plummeted around them; her almost dignified exit was disappearing at a rate of knots. ‘What’s wrong, Luca?’

‘You just brought me back to the real world.’ He gestured to the discarded pile of newspaper he had hurled across the room earlier. ‘There will be a lot of fur flying this morning, and the trouble is I’m the pussycat.’

Felicity broke into peals of giggles. ‘What’s so funny?’ he demanded.

‘A pussycat isn’t exactly how I’d describe you, Luca.’

‘I hate this language.’ His hands were back in the air now in a fiery Latin gesture. ‘All thesestupidiophrases you cannot elaborate on without making a fool of yourself. Where is the beauty in that?’

‘You do very well, Luca.’ Felicity attempted to soothe him but the laughter was still evident in her voice. ‘So why’s the fur flying this morning?’

‘See for yourself.’ Retrieving the newspaper, he handed it to her, then sat back down on the bed. After a moment’s hesitation Felicity joined him, curiosity finally getting the better of her.

‘Come on pussycat.’ She giggled, peeling open the pages. ‘One cup of coffee and then I’m out of here.’

Lying on his side, propping himself on his elbow, he watched her slowly turn the pages, smiling to himself at her little pink tongue, bobbing out as she forced herself to concentrate.

And it took one huge effort to concentrate! After all, arguably one of the world’s most eligible bachelors lay a matter of inches away from her on the bed they had just shared, which made reading the paper just about the last thing Felicity wanted to be doing right now. Still, her interest was raised several hundred degrees as she hit the social pages.

The sight of Luca Santanno with a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty on his arm shouldn’t really have come as that much of a surprise, though. Since the day her father had come home, pale and shaking, and revealed the Santanno chain had made an offer on his property Luca’s face had smiled at her from the newspapers, malicious and superior, the cat with the cream, but her hatred had gone now, and all Felicity felt as she stared was a curious surge of jealousy at the raven-headed beauty smiling seductively.

‘I stand corrected.’ Taking a nervous lick of her lips Felicity fought to keep her voice even. ‘There I was, thinking you were onlyarguablyone of the world’s most eligible bachelors, but it says right here in black and white that you’re in the top one hundred.’

‘What else does it say?’ His voice was gruff, and, shooting a look from under her eyelashes, she watched him wince as she spoke—even with the benefit of her hastily edited version.

‘Oh, the usual sort of thing.’ Felicity shrugged. ‘A few choice words about your legendary playboy status, a couple of comments on your latest choice of date’s impeccable fashion sense.’

‘What else?’ His words were like two pistol shots, the tension in the room rising as Felicity struggled to dilute the venom of the article.

‘Not much.’ She tried to keep her voice light, tried to sound impassive as she carried on talking. ‘It just begs the question what were you doing in the arms of the newly married Anna Giordano while her husband is sick in Moserallo?’

‘This is exactly what I was trying to prevent,’ Luca hissed. ‘My lawyers spent all of yesterday trying to prevent the paper running with this story.’

‘Is this my fault?’ Her voice caught in her throat. ‘If you hadn’t had to deal with me would you have been able to stop this?’

‘That was my temper talking,’ Luca said magnanimously. ‘The first edition would have already hit the stands by then.’

She watched as he lay back on the bed, cupping his hands behind his head and giving an exaggerated sigh. Felicity wrestled her mind back to the article, trying to ignore the fact that even Luca’s underarm hair managed to look sexy.

‘The fact I blacked the photographer’s eye after he took that picture probably didn’t help my case. The best lawyers in the world can’t stop the press when they’ve got the bit between their teeth—just ask the royal family.’

From anyone else his comment would have sounded conceited at worst, far-fetched at best, but there and then Felicity felt the gulf between them widen irretrievably.

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