smiled, still preoccupied with watching Rigo’s progress across the room. It was a strange feeling, knowing she suddenly had someone looking out for her. That he was prepared to stand in her corner and fight. She had grown used to conceding defeat time and time again. The comfort of telling herself that she didn’t care had always been like a blanket, stopping her from changing or growing. Somehow knowing that he thought she was worth defending gave her the confidence to want to defend herself. She didn’t want to be weak anymore. She wanted to care enough about being treated badly that she would stand up and fight her own ground.
* * *
‘I want to wish my brother and his beautiful bride-to-be a long and happy marriage.’ Valerio Marchesi clapped his older brother hard on the back. ‘Cent’anni—to one hundred years!’ He shouted the traditional Italian toast, which was quickly repeated by the intimate gathering of guests at the rehearsal dinner.
‘Grazie, little brother.’ Rigo raised his glass briefly, before downing the champagne in one go.
All his senses were heightened by the presence of the woman by his side. Nicole looked so quietly radiant in her strapless black dress that anyone might think her silence all evening was simply a result of bridal nerves. But he knew better.
He silently cursed Goldie Duvalle for being such a callous, selfish human being. It had taken all his willpower to step back. Nicole had handled the situation with infinitely more grace than he would have. Rehearsal dinner be damned—he’d wanted nothing more than to have the woman dragged out of the room by security and thrown on the first flight back to wherever she’d come from.
He half listened to his father and brother, who were deep in conversation comparing their latest travel stories. Valerio Marchesi was a wild card. He had declined their father’s invitation into the family business in order to pursue his own career, chartering yachts and luxury sailing boats around the Caribbean. Now, ten years later, he was a success in his own right, co-owner of one of the biggest luxury maritime-vessel charter companies in the world.
Rigo envied his younger brother his freedom, his lack of responsibility. Normally he would have been eager to hear about Valerio’s pirate-like exploits on the high seas, but tonight his mind just wasn’t focused. Try as he did to stop them, his eyes kept straying to Nicole.
Once the dinner had ended and all the wine had been drunk, the guests began to filter up to their rooms. He stood in the hallway with his parents to say goodnight. Nicole was deep in conversation with his mother and aunts. Valerio stood by his side, arms crossed, filled with the same tension he had seen in him all evening.
‘You look s if you’ve sucked on a lemon.’ Rigo raised a brow at his younger brother. ‘Careful, or I might think your speech was insincere.’
‘I just can’t get my head around your logic, that’s all.’ Valerio shrugged. ‘But just because I don’t agree with it, it doesn’t mean I don’t wish you happiness.’
‘If you’re worried I haven’t learned something in the past ten years, then you can relax. This is nowhere near the same situation,’ Rigo warned him, not wanting to get into a conversation about his disastrous relationship history. He knew his family had been affected by his relationship with Lydia, but seeing the tension in his brother’s face made it clear that he should have been more considerate in breaking the news this time.
‘No, it’s not. At least this time you knew the woman was a gold-digger before you arranged the wedding.’ Valerio looked at him. ‘I just don’t want to see you go through the same hell you did with Lydia. That she-beast changed you.’
‘I learned a valuable lesson from that “she-beast”.’ Rigo smiled darkly. ‘Never trust a woman with anything more than your credit card. And even then at least check the bills.’
His smile died on his lips as he turned to see Nicole standing by his side, a mask of hurt on her face.
Valerio cleared his throat, taking his mother’s arm and ushering her up the stairs with a murmured goodnight.
Nicole narrowed her eyes at him, her shoulders squared. ‘She-beast?’ she said quietly.
‘That conversation wasn’t about you.’ He forced an easy smile, taking her hand into his. She pushed it away. ‘We were talking about someone else.’
She nodded once, not quite seeming to relax. ‘Charming. Your brother doesn’t like me at all.’
‘My not-so-little brother has a very large, very annoying sense of protectiveness towards me.’ Rigo sighed, looking up at where Valerio and his mother were just disappearing around the corner at the top of the stairs. ‘You’re not the only person I’ve hurt in the past due to my own stubbornness.’
She looked up at him. ‘That doesn’t explain why he’s taking it out on me.’
‘It’s this situation we’re in. This whirlwind wedding. It’s an uncomfortable reminder for them all of the last time I told them I was engaged.’
* * *
Rigo continued, oblivious to the horrified expression she knew must be on her face. ‘I was engaged to be married ten years ago and it ended...badly.’
‘What happened?’ Nicole asked, even though a part of her didn’t want to believe he’d been engaged to someone else at all.
‘Just the usual stuff.’ He shrugged, looking down at the floor briefly. ‘The break-up was rather messy, and my mother took it quite hard. The wedding had been planned, invitations sent out.’
‘That sounds like a nightmare,’ she breathed.
A strange look came over his face—a mask of emotion so intense it took her breath away. All of a sudden it was gone, replaced by a blank stare.
‘It was many years ago, Nicole.’
He reached down to take her hand in his once more and this time she didn’t push it away. Knowing he had a heart after all, knowing he had been affected on some level by heartache, made her want to be the one to heal him.
She had felt it all evening—this tingling sensation in her chest that increased as their wedding day grew nearer. She’d kept telling herself that this was just another promotional appearance, that it meant nothing. But meeting his family and presenting them with this show of love and devotion had made her begin to wish it wasn’t all an act.
But she knew from experience that hope was a dangerous emotion.
* * *
The next morning Nicole stood in front of the full-length mirror with a sense of overwhelming awe. Her wedding gown truly was a work of art, with the fitted bodice hugging her curves like a second skin before flowing out in an elaborate skirt from just above her knee.
It was everything she had never dared to imagine for herself. She turned to the side, taking in the intricate lace beading down her back and the long train of silk and tulle that flowed out behind her. Women should be able to wear gowns like this every day, she thought, smiling to herself. She felt like royalty.
Rigo’s mother stepped closer to her side. ‘My mother stood with me like this on the morning of my wedding, you know.’ Her deep blue eyes were filled with warmth. ‘She and her sisters had spent weeks making my dress, but this veil was her own personal project.’
She
