Hot Christmas Nights: Shameful Secret, Shotgun Wedding / His for Revenge / Mistletoe Not Required. Anne OliverЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘No, Cassandra—I think we’re all going to clasp hands and hug and laugh and joke together,’ he said sarcastically.
Plucking at a soft fold of her cashmere coat, she wondered if he was about to smash all her stupid fantasies with one careless admission that she would only ever be second best. But she already knew that, didn’t she?
Yet when she raised her face up to look at him she saw the unmistakable tension on his aristocratic features—and, despite her own feelings of worthlessness, she couldn’t help her heart from twisting. Is he hurting? she wondered as he helped her from the car. Was this meeting going to be unbearably difficult for him—and could she do anything to help alleviate his pain? Well, she could try by biting back questions which made his emotions feel raw and concentrate instead on getting through the evening and making him proud of her.
‘Just remind me,’ she said softly. ‘Your brother is Raul and your sister-in-law is called Gabriella—and Allegra doesn’t have any brothers or sisters?’
‘Sì, cara, esattamente,’ he said softly, and paused. ‘Ah, and here she is in all her glory to meet us.’
For a moment, Cassie thought he meant Allegra—because she remembered what she had been like at twelve. Could have easily imagined a young girl watching and waiting by the window, filled with excitement at the thought of seeing an uncle like Giancarlo. Yet it was not a coltish teenager who came towards the car, but a woman.
And what a woman.
Small and perfectly proportioned, her thick, glossy hair fell in a raven cascade over narrow shoulders. Her skin was olive, her restless eyes the colour of dark chocolate, and she wore an exquisitely cut dress in softest ivory—accessorised by brown crocodile-skin shoes. From her slender wrist dangled a narrow circlet of glittering diamonds and there were more diamonds at her ears—as well as a colossal solitaire beside her wedding band. On anyone else, that many diamonds might have looked showy—but the petite brunette exuded so much class and confidence that Cassie thought she could probably have worn a bin liner and convinced you it was haute couture.
So this, Cassie thought, was Gabriella.
Suddenly, she felt utterly insignificant in comparison—too pale and too wishy-washy with her fair skin and hair. Because this was the woman Giancarlo had loved, she reminded herself painfully. The woman he had wanted to marry—without anyone pointing a shotgun at him. The woman who had chosen his richer twin over him—and Cassie wondered whether a man like her new husband would ever recover from a blow so heavy to his pride and his heart.
‘That’s Gabriella?’ she whispered.
‘The very same.’
‘She’s…she’s very beautiful.’
Giancarlo’s mouth hardened into an odd kind of smile. ‘Isn’t she?’
Cassie felt her heart plummet. Her husband would have been a liar if he’d denied what was a glaring fact—but in that moment of terrible insecurity, what she wanted more than anything was for Giancarlo to tell her that the woman was a hag and he’d never loved her. But there was no time for further conversation, because the petite Italian beauty was upon them with a rush of heady scent and an unmistakable sparkle of her dark eyes as she stared up at her brother-in-law.
‘Giancarlo,’ she said, her hands moving familiarly to his shoulders as she offered him one cool cheek to kiss, followed by another. ‘How good to see you again. It has been too long. Much, much too long. Nearly a year since we met you for dinner in New York!’
‘That long?’
‘I could tell you down to the very second,’ she pouted. ‘And in the meantime, you went and got married without even telling us!’
‘But I thought you liked surprises,’ he said archly. Stepping away from Gabriella’s embrace and the overpowering scent of her perfume, he rested his hand lightly at Cassie’s waist. ‘And besides, I’ve brought my wife to meet you. This is Cassandra.’
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