Julia James - It Happened In Rome - The Forced Bride / The Italian's Rags-to-Riches Wife / The Italian's Passionate Revenge

‘So I heard as I came downstairs, and I am glad that I can reassure him that you are perfectly safe, mi amore.’ Raf was smiling. ‘You have had a long walk, my friend,’ he added pleasantly. ‘Believe that I shall be sure to inform Signora Albero, when I see her next, how well you look after her tenants.’

‘Aye, well—thanks,’ Angus managed as he turned away. Then paused, his hand going into an inside pocket. ‘I thought you might like a Sunday paper, Miss—er, Mrs…’

‘Contessa,’ Raf supplied.

Angus nodded, gulped and handed over the folded broadsheet. ‘And it said on the radio just now that the weather’s going to get worse before it gets better,’ he added glumly. ‘I thought mebbe I should mention that too.’

For a moment they watched him trudge off, then Raf drew Emily back into the cottage, firmly closing the door.

‘So what was that all about?’ She turned on him hotly. ‘Why not have a banner made with SHE’S MINE in huge letters?’

‘It will not be necessary. He got the message. I regret his disappointment,’ he added lightly. ‘But the exercise will do him good.’

‘He came here to help,’ she protested. She shook her head. ‘You can’t believe, can you, that someone might actually go out of their way—just to do a kindness?’

‘I think it unlikely, yes.’ Raf followed her into the kitchen. ‘For a man to walk so far in these conditions to see a beautiful girl with no hope of reward? Never.’

‘Perhaps you shouldn’t judge other men by your own dubious standards, signore.’

‘You do not think I can be kind?’ He shrugged. ‘On the other hand, you have not granted me much opportunity to prove otherwise, carissima.’

‘If you’d wanted to be kind, you’d have stayed away.’ Emily spooned coffee into the cafetière with fierce precision. Then paused. ‘Would you like something to eat?’

Raf burst out laughing. ‘You are a girl of contradictions, cara. Would you not prefer to let me starve?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But coping with a corpse wouldn’t be practical.’ She hesitated again. ‘We could have poached eggs on toast, perhaps.’ She added stiltedly, ‘I—I thought I’d roast the chicken this evening—if that’s all right with you.’

‘But of course.’ He paused. ‘So we have an empty afternoon before us,’ he went on softly. ‘How can we occupy it, I wonder.’

‘You could always start by putting some clothes on,’ Emily suggested tautly.

‘Perhaps.’ He paused. ‘Or maybe I might persuade you to take yours off instead.’

Her breath quickened. ‘No!’

He leaned against the archway. ‘That is a very definite negative, carissima.’ He sounded faintly amused. ‘I can see why you scared my lawyers, especially poor Pietro.’

She glared at him. ‘This is not a joke. I have no intention of performing some kind of striptease in broad daylight in order to please you.’ Her voice was ragged. ‘And, if you push it, I’ll walk out of here and to hell with the snow. I’d rather freeze in a drift than be degraded like that.’

‘My sympathies are with the drift,’ he returned coolly. He studied her for a moment. ‘I am surprised that you find the idea of undressing in front of a man to be degrading, Emilia.’ He added sardonically, ‘I remember a time when you seemed eager to do so.’

Oh, God, she thought, you would remind me of that awful night. But you’re still wrong. Because I never felt like that—never wanted to—not even with Simon…

Aloud, she said frigidly, ‘That was with the man I loved, signore. Not you. Besides, it was the middle of the night.’

‘Daylight, lamplight, starlight,’ he said reflectively. ‘Does it really make such a difference?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It does.’ She looked at him, lifting her chin. ‘I realise that I can’t prevent you—helping yourself to me at night, but my days are going to be my own and I want that understood.’

There was a loaded silence, then Raf gave a brief shrug. ‘Very well. You may have them, if they are so important to you.’ He paused. ‘But your nights will belong to me. Is it agreed?’

She gave a small jerky nod.

‘Then maybe you too could make a concession, carissima,’ he said softly. ‘And, tonight, show me a little of the kindness you spoke of so eloquently a few moments ago.’

He turned away. ‘Now, to demonstrate my good faith, I will get dressed.’ He ran a musing hand over his chin. ‘But I shall wait to shave, I think, until later.’

Digesting the implication in his words, Emily’s throat tightened. She said in a falsely bright voice, ‘Then I’ll hold breakfast for you.’

‘Grazie.’ He inclined his head to her with a touch of mockery. ‘You are becoming a wonderful wife, carissima mia,’ he added softly. And went.

Emily leaned against the sink. He had allowed her to win, she thought shakily. But she was not deceived. Because it was only a very minor triumph in the war of attrition between them.

Besides, he’d made it clear that he expected ultimate victory. That nothing else would do for him.

She said under her breath, But I won’t let that happen. I—I can’t…Because it would change my life for ever. Whereas, once I cease to be a novelty, he—he will just walk away.

She stared through the window at the bleak and dazzling whiteness outside.

But wasn’t that what she really wanted—for him to go? she asked herself desperately. And somehow could find no answer.

It was a strange afternoon. In spite of Raf’s assurance, Emily still felt tense and on edge. After all, he’d broken his word before, she told herself. What was to stop him doing so again?

Besides, the other promise he’d made to her last night still lingered uneasily in her mind.

When she carried the tray of poached eggs and coffee into the living room she discovered that the fire was crackling briskly in the grate and Raf, soberly clad in khaki trousers and a black woollen long-sleeved shirt, was kneeling on the hearthrug, adding more coal to the blaze.

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I meant to do that.’

‘From now on, I will attend to it.’ He gave her a brief smile as he got to his feet, adding lightly, ‘I do not wish you to ruin your hands, cara. Or give your admirer another excuse to call.’

She said between her teeth, ‘Once and for all, he is not my admirer.’

He gave her a dry look. ‘No longer, certainly,’ he agreed, as he sat down at the table.

She was trying to think of a suitably chilly riposte when her attention was suddenly distracted.

‘Oh, God, it’s snowing again.’

‘We were warned that it might.’ Raf poured the coffee. ‘Is it a problem?’

‘Your car,’ she said. ‘I thought we might be able to dig it out—and leave.’

‘To go where?’ He sounded politely interested as he cut into his toast.

‘Does it matter? Just—away from here. After all, we—we both have lives to get back to.’

‘And it would suit you much better if those lives were resumed hundreds of miles apart,’ he murmured. ‘No deal, carissima. The forecast in the newspaper warns that roads in this area may become impassable for a while and only essential journeys should be attempted in the rest of the region. Your reluctance to be alone with me hardly justifies the risk.’

He paused. ‘And you made the decision to come here.’

‘I had no idea it would be like this,’ she said. ‘What’s more, I bet you didn’t realise that we might be marooned here when you set the arrangement up.’ She shook her head. ‘Oh, God, I was so damned stupid. I should have realised it was a trap.’

‘Is that how you see it?’ Raf asked silkily. ‘Yet I find it delightful. Quiet, remote. The ideal place to begin married life. Don’t you think?’