Page 4 of The Sicilian’s Deal For 'I Do'

Nights like this made it worse, because she was forced to remember what life had been like before. With her parents.

She’d only been young when they’d died but core memories of their happiness and love were imprinted on her soul. Was it any wonder her greatest fantasy in life was of having a family of her own? Of having children she could adore and spoil, and pour all of her love into, finally?

‘I thought they’d be here,’ her mother hissed through clenched teeth, eyes darting to Gianni’s face, skin pale. ‘Where are they?’

Standing beside them in the crowded bar, Mia leaned closer to hear.

‘A scheduling conflict. Don’t worry, Jennifer. This wedding—and merger—will go ahead. This time, it’s different.’

Mia’s eyes briefly swept shut. The di Angelos. Her gut twisted with doubts and uncertainties, at the idea that her second attempt at marriage might be as ill-fated as the first, but then, no. It wasn’t possible. Lorenzo was nothing like Luca. Where there was something dangerous about Luca’s brilliant genius and ruthless determination, and certainly about his unfettered sex appeal, Lorenzo was calm, methodical and not at all sexually attracted to Mia, which put her at ease. They’d calmly discussed the merger, their reason for marrying, his intention to continue to date discreetly until they were officially married. Which was just how Mia wanted it.

‘They know how important this night is to us. The media will be wondering—’

‘The media does not matter,’ he interrupted sharply. ‘Now stop worrying and smile. People are looking.’

Sure enough, some people were looking in their direction, or were they? Eyes that were pointed their way were, on closer inspection, focused ever so slightly beyond them, so Mia threw a glance over her shoulder and then shivered, for no reason she could think of.

‘Excuse me,’ she murmured to her parents, nonetheless unnerved and deciding she needed a sip of champagne and a quiet moment.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To mingle,’ she lied, flashing a smile at her father. ‘I won’t be long.’

Disapproval flattened Jennifer’s lips but Mia had long since given up trying to guess what she’d done to upset her adoptive mother. She turned her back and disappeared into the crowd before Jennifer could invent a reason for her to stay.

Whether the di Angelos were there or not, the night was a success. Mia could tell by how many guests were in attendance, and by the calibre of celebrities. The event had drawn a host of well-heeled, monied glitterati and that meant the charity would benefit. She was glad, though no one observing Mia would have realised it, if they’d looked at her serious expression.

At the bar, she waited in line, and finally, at the front, ordered a glass of champagne, gripped it with relief and began to cut through the crowd once more, nodding politely when she saw an acquaintance or someone her parents knew, until she reached the doors that led to the rooftop garden. The night was warm, and so there wasn’t as much privacy out here as Mia had craved, but she remembered a small corner that offered a little more seclusion and she moved there, glad to find it unoccupied. She could sit on one of the chairs and remove her painfully high heels, reaching down to massage the ligaments of her ankles with relief. Above her, fairy lights had been strung from edge to edge of the rooftop garden, giving it a magical feel, interspersed as they were with potted plants. The sound of happy conversations swirled around her from the elegant guests, giving Mia a sense of anonymity—compounded by the two enormous ferns that shielded her from view.

When her champagne was half empty, she wondered how much longer she could reasonably hide out here for. Would anyone be missing her?

A wry smile tipped her lips.

Her parents’ initial impatience with her disappearance would have dissipated in the face of the success of the event, and Jennifer was no doubt in there enjoying the attention of her well-heeled friends. Which meant Mia had at least the rest of her champagne glass to go...

She leaned back a little in the chair, closed her eyes, breathed deeply and tried to relax, to tell herself that she was making the right decisions in life, even when doubts often chased her. If her parents had lived, what would they say about this marriage?

Her smile turned into a grimace and then a sigh as she sipped her champagne.

If her parents had lived, she’d have never been in this situation—forced to seek an escape from adoptive parents who both loved and resented her, who showed their love by being way too protective and controlling, and for whom Mia had been conditioned to have such a high level of gratitude that she could never countermand them.

The rational part of Mia’s brain knew how stupid that was, wondered why she didn’t just tell them that she didn’t want to work in the family business, that she didn’t want to marry a stranger just to retain an interest in Marini Enterprises. But the little girl who’d been rescued from foster care was told over and over again how lucky she was to have them, couldn’t defy their wishes. So the best she could do was try to make her own wishes accord with theirs.

And in Lorenzo, perhaps she’d succeeded?

She sighed again, lifted her champagne flute to her lips, then glanced left when a sudden motion caught her eye.

And felt as though every cell in her body had reverberated to fever pitch then stopped altogether.

She jerked to standing, spilling champagne on the tiled ground in a dramatic splashing motion, shock rendering her body capable of only staccato movements.

‘Luca?’She blinked rapidly, sure her eyes were deceiving her.

But then his lips curled in that smile she remembered so well, half cynicism, half seduction, and her stomach rolled so hard she thought it might fly out of her body.

‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded, unable to resist wiping a hand across her eyes in case this was a fantasy.

‘It is a charity event. I bought a ticket.’

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