Claimed by the Sicilian. Kate WalkerЧитать онлайн книгу.
and dangling about her face. ‘No, no, no! That isn’t what I want and it isn’t what’s going to happen. What we had was a mistake—the worst mistake I’ve ever made in my life. It isn’t going to happen again. I’d rather die than go back to that.’
‘You, carissima, are a liar,’ Guido told her softly. ‘Your words are a lie—your protestation too. You lie even to yourself—and you don’t do it terribly well. I shall enjoy proving your words to be untrue, even if it takes me some time. One day you will come to me, begging me to forget you ever said such things—and I…I will be waiting. The wait will be worth it—you will be worth it. Now…’
He held out his arm to her, obviously meaning her to take it.
‘What?’
Still stunned by what he had said to her, the way he had dismissed her protest, Amber could only blink in stunned confusion.
‘We are going to put the first part of our plan into action. We are going out there—as man and wife.’
‘We—are?’
He still expected her to go with him, after what he’d just said? After the promise, the threat, he’d just made?
‘Do you wish to back out of our agreement?’
Did she? And, more to the point, could she? Because if she didn’t go with Guido, then that left her with—with nothing, she admitted to herself miserably. With nothing and no one. It was Guido or…
Silently she shook her head, flinching inwardly away from the grim satisfaction she saw in his face, the dark triumph that gleamed in his eyes.
‘Then…’
Once more he held out his arm and this time she nerved herself to put her own arm in his, resting her hand on the hard strength of his forearm, feeling the tight power of muscle under her fingertips. The heat of his body seared her where her elbow was clamped against his side, pressed against the strong wall of his ribcage, sensing the heavy, regular beat of his heart so close by.
He had pushed his spare hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a slim, silver-coloured mobile phone and flicking it open. With his thumb he pressed a single speed-dial button.
‘What…?’
‘I have a car waiting near by,’ he told her before speaking into the phone, obviously issuing a string of instructions in fast, authoritative Italian. ‘Franco will bring it to the gate—that way we will be able to get away as quickly as possible and so, hopefully, won’t have to endure too much from the vultures outside.’
‘But they’re going to ask for a statement—something to explain all this…What are you going to say?’
‘Leave that to me,’ Guido told her, his tone deep and firm. ‘Just follow my lead.’
And suddenly it was all that she wanted to do—to surrender herself to the strength of his body, the strength of his mind. To let him take control and handle everything as she knew he was more than capable of doing.
And if she had been able to think of anything for herself, or been able to act for herself, as soon as they started to move a sudden, flashing awareness slashed deep into her soul and took any last remaining ounce of strength from her, depriving her totally of the will to do anything.
As they walked down the aisle, arm in arm, towards the church door, she suddenly had a terrible, cruelly clear vision of just what they must look like to anyone seeing them there like that. She in her bridal finery, in the long white dress and the veil, the sweeping train that flowed from her waist at the back. And Guido in smartly tailored black, his head held high, his hand on her arm as he led her away from the altar and out towards the door at the end of the aisle.
Seen like this, anyone might take them for the bride and groom—the happy couple leaving the church after their wedding, starting out on a lifetime of happiness, a lifetime of love and sharing together as man and wife. And the image was so false, so deceptive, that it shrivelled her heart into ashes just to think of it.
And then, when she was least ready, least able to cope with it, her mind threw up another, even more painful memory. She saw herself as she had been a year before, on a late-winter day in Las Vegas. The whole wedding had been arranged in such haste, on such an impulse, that she had only a soft white cotton sundress to wear; no veil. Her only flower had been the single blood-red rose that Guido had given her as she got out of the taxi at the little wedding chapel he had booked for them to take their vows. She had had none of the silk and the lace that she wore now. No sweeping train, no fine tiara in her hair, but she had been so happy that day, so full of hope and joy for the future. Until the man she had married, the man who now walked beside her in a bitter parody of the walk of happiness of that day, had proved himself as false as she had come to believe that wedding to be.
Bitter, stinging tears burned in the back of her throat, pricked at her eyes, threatened to spill out wildly so that she had to keep blinking fiercely to hold them back. She couldn’t see where she was going, had to rely on Guido to lead her, to get her to the door—to open it—and then she was outside, blinking in the blinding combination of sunlight and flashbulbs, hearing the click and whirr of cameras, the sudden shouts of interest, the litany of questions.
‘Miss Wellesley—Amber…’
Tears blurred her eyes so that she couldn’t see, she almost missed her footing and would have fallen down the stone steps if Guido hadn’t reacted instantly, his strong arm coming round her, holding her tight at her waist, supporting her and halfcarrying her along with him.
‘A couple of questions…’
But this time there was a difference. This time she wasn’t the only one who was in the firing line. It came as a shock to hear Guido’s name, too, in the shouts and calls for attention.
‘Just a word, Mr Corsentino…’
Halfway down the steps, Guido came to a halt, still holding her tightly. Automatically, she turned to him, confused by the sudden halt to their progress. But his eyes weren’t on her; instead they were surveying the crowd around them, scanning the scene with cool control.
‘I will issue a full statement later today that I hope will answer all your questions, but for now all you need to know is that my wife and I have reconciled. What happened here today shocked us into the realisation that we still care deeply for each other and we want to work towards a new future together. All we ask is that you give us a little peace and privacy to do so.’
To Amber’s amazement the announcement seemed to work. Certainly, the buzz of questions seemed to lessen and, although the cameras still flashed, it was with less frenetic intensity.
She barely had a second to register it, for just at that moment a sleek and powerful car swept to a halt just outside the lych-gate.
That couldn’t be…
But even as she formed the thought, Guido had tightened his grip on her waist and was striding through the group of newspaper men, taking her with him, whether she was ready or not.
She had a vague, blurry impression of a uniformed figure getting hastily out of the car and opening the door to the back seat for them, standing by while Guido helped her inside and then joined her on the soft leather seat. The door was slammed, the driver taking his own place and starting the engine before she had fully registered just what was happening.
A few seconds later they were on the road and speeding away from the church.
Guido sat back in his seat and raked both his hands through the black sleekness of his hair, before he turned those deep, burning eyes on her. There was no warmth in them, or showing on his face. Instead once again that cold, ruthless control that she had seen in the church was etched firmly onto his stunning features.
‘Well, that is stage one,’ he told her, his voice flat and emotionless. ‘Now for stage two.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘WHERE