The Convenient Bride Read online

  ‘Not tired.’ Terrified. ‘Ah . . .’

  ‘What?’ he pressed.

  ‘Nervous.’

  Antonio’s eyebrow arched. ‘Why?’

  ‘Every person in that room will be judging me.’

  ‘Probably,’ he said.

  ‘Great. Thanks for making me feel so much better.’

  He smiled. ‘I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.’

  Wow, I must be a good actress.

  ‘You’re not afraid of me,’ he said, leaning down close to her face. ‘You certainly don’t stick to my carefully laid plans.’

  His proximity caused her heart to beat a little faster. ‘Something about you makes me want to rebel.’

  He put his arms about her and pulled her close. She exhaled sharply as his hands moulded to her bare back.

  ‘Sounds exciting.’

  ‘People are watching,’ she said, looking past his broad shoulders.

  ‘Let them,’ he said.

  ‘Antonio!’ A woman’s shrill voice sounded across the cobblestones. A beleaguered look flashed across Antonio’s face. ‘Darling,’ she called.

  ‘Time to take you into the lion’s den.’ He took Sienna’s hand and led the way. He waved greetings to a number of people as they approached the sophisticated throng.

  Sienna had never seen so many jewels and couture in one place. She straightened her dress and smoothed her hair. As the fiancée of one of the world’s most desirable men, Sienna knew she’d suffer intense scrutiny. She wouldn’t let her father down. She’d make this deal work. After tonight, the world would know she legitimately belonged by Antonio’s side.

  ‘Antonio.’ A gorgeous woman swept up to them. ‘Late as usual.’ She slipped her hand around Antonio’s waist. Sienna had to move aside, or she’d have been knocked sideways. She watched as the woman planted lingering kisses on Antonio’s cheeks.

  ‘I’ve booked our usual table,’ the woman said in a conspiratorial whisper. Sienna knew the words were articulated for her to hear clearly.

  Antonio reached for Sienna’s hand and brought her to his side. ‘Marcella, I’d like you to met my fiancée, Sienna De Luca.’

  ‘Fiancée?’ The woman’s beautiful face flashed with such venom Sienna recoiled.

  ‘Of course I’d heard the rumours, darling,’ the woman said, placing her hand on Antonio’s arm and smiling up at him brilliantly. She tried to angle him towards her, but he remained firmly at Sienna’s side. ‘I thought they were the usual tabloid lies.’

  ‘Not this time. All true,’ he said, placing his arm around Sienna’s waist. The woman’s gaze tracked the movement, barely contained fury filling her emerald-green eyes. Antonio’s body felt like a protective shield. One Sienna clearly needed.

  ‘Must go,’ the woman said, turning with a flounce and walking off, her heels clicking up the stone steps into the opera house.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Sienna asked.

  ‘The manager of the opera house.’

  ‘She looks very young to hold such a senior position.’

  ‘Daddy,’ Antonio said, leading them towards the steps.

  Sienna stepped from his grasp. ‘She seems a little put out that you’re getting married.’

  ‘We’ve been friends for a long time.’

  ‘Friends?’ Friends with benefits, more like.

  He slipped his arm about her waist again. ‘I’ve dated a lot of women in Venice. It’s my hometown. We may run into a few.’

  ‘Wonderful.’

  ‘They don’t bite.’

  ‘Maybe not, but I’m feeling a bit singed from that little encounter.’

  ‘Marcella’s just a little hotheaded.’

  ‘Are you blind? That woman wants you.’

  He stopped and tilted her chin until she locked eyes with him. ‘And yet, she’s not going to get me, is she?’

  Sienna swallowed. ‘Not for a year anyway,’ she managed to say.

  ‘I don’t know, I’m getting used to having you around.’

  Heat touched Sienna’s cheeks. She relaxed a little in his arms. ‘Really?’

  ‘I have a beautiful woman on my arm with none of the emotional drama that usually comes with it.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘Perfect.’

  Her body stiffened and she pulled away. She was just an ornament. Something to be shown off like one of his new hotels. She felt like hurling all the emotional drama she was capable of right in his face.

  ‘Yes, perfect,’ she said, holding her head high and walking ahead of him into the fray.

  Chapter Five

  As usual, Antonio answered emails on his phone as the opera droned on about him.

  ‘Put your phone away,’ Sienna implored. ‘This is wonderful.’

  ‘I’ve seen La Traviata at least four times,’ he answered.

  ‘Why do you come?’ Sienna whispered.

  ‘I’m a patron.’ He leant in close. ‘Also tonight I’m giving a special presentation.’

  ‘What kind of presentation?’

  A lone violin struck up a mournful melody.

  ‘Wait and see,’ he said mysteriously.

  Sienna settled back in her seat. Within seconds the performance had her mesmerised. How could Antonio not enjoy this?

  When interval arrived, Sienna clapped like a madwoman. A man walked to the centre of the stage.

  ‘Before intermission, we have a special presentation. As you know, the profits from tonight’s performance will be donated to the Children’s Wing of the Campo Santi Giovanni e Paolo Ospedale.’

  Antonio grabbed her hand. ‘Come on.’

  ‘But I want to see this,’ Sienna said.

  ‘You will.’

  Antonio led her down the stairs from their private box. He pulled open the door to the main auditorium and escorted her through. The stalls looked packed to capacity.

  ‘What are we doing?’ she asked, trying to hang back.

  ‘You’ll see,’ he said, accompanying her down the central aisle. The gaze of hundreds of people tracked their progress.

  ‘I’d like to invite Antonio Moretti and his special guest to the stage,’ the man announced. The whole auditorium broke into loud applause.

  Sienna tried to pull free of Antonio’s grasp. ‘I’m not going up there,’ she said, the panic in her voice clear to her own ears.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, a wicked smile playing about his lips. ‘I think you’ll like this.’

  She trembled as she stepped onto the stage. Antonio led her to the microphone and she looked out upon a sea of faces. Right in the front row sat Marcella, throwing daggers with her eyes. Sienna edged as best she could behind Antonio’s body.

  ‘Good evening.’ Antonio’s voice resonated clearly through the opera house. A hush fell over the crowd. ‘Tonight I proposed to my beautiful girlfriend, Sienna De Luca.’

  Antonio slipped his arm about her waist. Sienna noticed Marcella stand and storm from the room.

  ‘You will all see that special moment in High Life magazine in the morning. The sale of the pictures benefits the hospital.’

  Sienna’s eyes flew to Antonio’s face. He flashed her a brilliant smile, then pulled a cheque from his pocket and handed it to Sienna. ‘Sienna and I would like to donate the proceeds, one million euro, to the hospital.’

  Sienna stared at the seemingly endless zeros written on the cheque.

  ‘Can you forgive me?’ Antonio murmured in her ear.

  She looked up at him, unable to speak. A flood of conflicting emotions engulfed her. How could she be furious with him when the photographs had been for such a good cause? But why hadn’t he trusted her with his plan?

  A man accompanied by a small boy walked from the wings. The boy had his arm in a sling and a huge grin lit up his face. She handed the cheque to the man and he kissed her lightly on each cheek, muttering his thanks.

  Sienna bent down to the boy. ‘This is exciting, isn’t it?’ she said, putting her arm about his shoulders.

  ‘Yes,’ the boy sa
id, his eyes wide.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Good, but my sister’s very sick. A car crashed into us.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘This will make her better though,’ he said, pointing to the cheque, his little face shining with hope. ‘Won’t it?’

  Her eyes watered. ‘Sure to,’ she said, giving him a hug. Over the child’s shoulder her eyes met Antonio’s. His mouth sported a smile, but his eyes told a different story. Dark, intense – anguished? Sienna blinked. Real pain stared back at her. Antonio turned away quickly and spoke to the hospital representative.

  ‘Thank you,’ the boy said, planting a wet kiss on each of her cheeks. A cheer broke out across the room. She’d forgotten half of Venice looked on. She stood awkwardly, not really knowing what to do next.

  ‘See, I’m not all bad,’ Antonio said as he walked back to her side. Sienna studied his face. He looked the picture of a man who ruled the world. Not a trace of torment. Antonio captured her hand and led her from the stage to raucous applause.

  ‘You blindsided me again,’ she said as they walked down the stairs to the aisle.

  ‘It was a surprise,’ he said, grinning.

  ‘What is it with you and saving little children?’ she asked.

  He dropped her hand. ‘Nothing,’ he said, all trace of joviality vanishing from his voice. ‘Let’s get a drink.’ He walked quickly ahead of her up the long aisle, making her trot to keep up.

  What had she said? They emerged into the lobby and Antonio headed for the bar. Sienna stumbled slightly – the heels would be the death of her. She recovered quickly but a group of women nearby sniggered. Marcella, standing at the centre of the group, laughed out loud. Sienna looked away quickly. What a witch. As Sienna walked past she heard the words cheap, tracksuit and common. Her cheeks flamed as she held her head high.

  Antonio presented her with a glass of champagne.

  ‘Don’t do that again,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Leave me at the mercy of those dreadful women.’

  Antonio looked about and spotted the group staring at them. ‘Them?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Don’t worry about them,’ he said.

  ‘Easy for you to say.’

  ‘Why are you so worried? You must be used to rude people. There are plenty of them in our business.’

  ‘Yes, but guests are guests. I don’t go to the opera and share drinks with them . . .’

  ‘But —’

  ‘Believe me, Antonio, it makes a difference.’ She glanced at the group. Malicious eyes flashed in her direction. ‘These women can smell a fraud a mile away.’

  ‘So let’s give them something to really talk about.’ He caught her body to his. His lips brushed her ear. ‘Let’s give them a show they won’t forget,’ he whispered.

  As heat rushed through her body she’d have agreed to anything. ‘Okay,’ she breathed.

  His lips claimed her mouth with a deep penetrating kiss. She closed her eyes as she melted against him. He tasted of citrus and vanilla.

  Keep your distance. Her mind screamed rational thoughts, but instead she wrapped her arms around his hard, hot body. He pressed her back against the bar and she moulded against his hardness. She forgot the women, she forgot her troubles, she forgot everything except this man and the way he lit her up inside.

  It didn’t feel false. It felt all too real. Too dangerous.

  She broke away.

  ‘I think . . . that will be . . . enough to convince them,’ she stammered.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he said, stroking his fingers down her bare back. She shivered as desire pooled hot between her legs. ‘I’m happy to do a little more convincing.’

  ‘Stop, Antonio,’ she whispered, placing her palms against his chest and holding him at bay.

  ‘Are you sure you want me to?’ he murmured, gazing down with seduction in his eyes.

  Seduction, exactly. Not connection, not affection, not love. Sex with no emotion. That was what she saw in those dark, glittering eyes.

  She stepped away, but trailed her finger down his chest to maintain the act for the many eyes that peered at them.

  ‘Yes, that’s enough. I need to freshen up,’ she said, turning and walking towards the bathrooms.

  Antonio might be able to turn off his emotions, but she couldn’t. She reached the bathroom and quickly claimed a cubicle. She leant heavily against the closed door. Each time Antonio kissed her, Sienna felt him steal a piece of her soul. He was taking ownership without knowing it and without her permission. She must protect herself. She must develop a heart as hard as Antonio’s or be lost.

  The door to the bathroom banged open.

  ‘And did you see the photos at the airport?’ a nasty voice announced, overly loudly.

  Marcella! Sienna was sure of it.

  ‘Antonio can dress her in Sabatini’s best but she’ll still be a nobody,’ the woman continued.

  Mocking laughter filled the room.

  ‘What’s he doing with her then?’ another voice asked.

  ‘Slumming it. Just like we take the occasional pool boy and it means nothing, so he —’

  Sienna dragged in a deep unsteady breath, steeled herself and opened her stall door. She crossed the room to wash her hands. The hawkish eyes of three women watched her every move. Their eyes glittered with more malevolence than their myriad diamonds.

  ‘Perhaps, Marcella, our relationship is based on something you don’t understand,’ Sienna said, as she dried her hands. ‘Perhaps Antonio wants a woman who can see past the good looks and the money —’

  ‘How dare you speak to me,’ Marcella spat, stepping in close. Disturbingly close. Sienna backed up to the bathroom door and opened it.

  ‘What are you?’ Marcella snapped. ‘You’re not even Italian. You’re, what – Australian?’ She looked down her nose as she ground out the words. ‘A country built on the back of thieves. You are less than the dirt on my shoe.’

  Sienna recoiled at the ferocity of the attack.

  ‘Well, that’s okay with me, Marcella.’ Antonio’s voice boomed through the open door. ‘Sienna and I like to get down and dirty, don’t we, sweetheart?’ His light tone belied the rage burning in his eyes.

  Marcella looked as though she’d been smacked across the face with a two-day-old fish.

  ‘Antonio, darling,’ Marcella began in a smooth voice. ‘I was just —’

  Antonio held up his hand. He clearly would not tolerate another word from the woman. He grabbed Sienna’s hand and escorted her from the bathroom. ‘Come on, Sienna, I think we’ve had enough opera for one night.’

  Soul-stealer or not, relief washed through her, being back in Antonio’s care.

  ‘Oh, and by the way,’ Antonio shot over his shoulder to Marcella, ‘my patronage of this opera house ceases today.’

  Sienna couldn’t help glancing back. Marcella slumped against the wall, her face a picture of horror. Each cruel word had probably cost the woman a million euro.

  Antonio escorted Sienna down the opera house steps and into the street. He’d known Marcella since he’d been four years old and had never seen that side of her personality. It unnerved him. He made it his business to know people and what made them tick. His success depended on it.

  ‘Thanks for saving me,’ Sienna said.

  He looked down at her. ‘No problem.’ Oh, yes. That was him – the great protector. It didn’t matter how many children his millions saved, how many lost children he helped in the street, nothing would fill the gaping hole in his heart. ‘You may only be my pretend wife, but no one hurts my family without consequences,’ Antonio growled.

  Sienna’s gaze flashed to his face. He could tell she wanted to ask more, but she stayed silent. If she asked, he’d tell her nothing. His terrible secret would die with him. If he spoke of his shame, it would destroy him. He did everything to distract himself from the truth – work, women, travel – anything to keep the demons at bay. He only
attempted sleep when he was exhausted, or the nightmares would come. Slipping under the water. Drowning. Screaming.

  ‘Antonio.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said sharply.

  ‘You’re hurting me.’

  He dropped his grip on Sienna’s hand. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked, rubbing her arm.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, not looking at her, fighting with his memories – slamming them back into the black hole of guilt, shame and pain.

  They walked through the moonlit streets in silence. By the time they reached the hotel, Sienna sagged against Antonio’s body. He held her firmly. She felt warm and luscious against him.

  ‘Not far now,’ he said, stroking her arm.

  He’d expected a lot from her today. Too much. After the debacle at the airport he’d thought he’d made a huge mistake. But he’d misjudged how much the press would love Sienna. His Cinderella.

  She faltered slightly and he tightened his grip.

  ‘I hate these shoes,’ she muttered.

  He laughed. ‘You’re the only woman I know who hates heels.’ He liked that about her. Most women he dated expected expensive trappings – jewellery, couture, penthouse suites with a dedicated handmaid. Carmela had told him how Sienna helped her unpack all the Sabatini clothes. Although Carmela said nothing – she was too much of a professional – he knew she loathed most of the women he brought to the hotel. But she’d given a huge stamp of approval to Sienna.

  During the opera, he’d scanned the internet. The media coverage proved better than expected. The press loved her.

  They arrived at the hotel. Antonio led Sienna to the lifts and up to the penthouse.

  ‘Take a seat and I’ll fix us a drink,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll be back in a moment,’ she said as she disappeared into the bedroom.

  He walked to the bar and fixed himself a scotch. What would Sienna like? He leant against the counter and waited, replaying the events of the day. His aunt and uncle should read the stories in the newspapers tomorrow. Events continued to unfold just as he’d planned.

  He finished his scotch and checked his watch. Why did women always take so long in the bathroom?

  ‘Sienna, what would you like to drink?’ he called and waited. ‘Sienna?’