up?’ Gabriele asked once they were driving back home.
He felt her eyes rest on him and knew she was reading his face before deciding whether to answer. They had learned to read each other well.
She was silent for a long while before replying. ‘Not my childhood so much as my adolescence. That’s when I really missed having her there.’
‘No counterbalance for all the testosterone?’ He changed gear and tapped the brake as they approached a small town.
She smiled faintly. ‘None at all. I hardly ever met any women. I was home educated with male tutors—our household staff were all men too, as were all the cousins from my father’s side.’
‘What about the rest of your family? Did you ever see anyone from your mother’s side? Aunts? Cousins?’
‘My mother was Swedish and all her family live there. I saw them a handful of times when I was growing up.’
‘And now? You spend a lot of time in Scandinavia working. That must make it easier to be in contact with them.’
‘They’re strangers to me. I was twelve the last time I saw any of them.’
‘They don’t have to be strangers any more.’
He felt green eyes upon him.
‘I’ve got a couple of female cousins around my age who wanted to be friends but I snubbed them. It’s too late for me to expect a relationship now.’
‘Why did you snub them?’
A dry laugh. ‘Because they were girls. And they were beautiful and poised and wore the most beautiful dresses, whereas I was a tomboy dressed for a party in boys’ clothes.’
‘Did you want to be like them?’
‘I don’t know.’ She took a breath. ‘I suppose I did want to be a little like them but I didn’t know where to begin. And I didn’t want to give my brothers any ammunition to remember I was a girl. Girls were cheap meat to be made fun of, remember?’
‘I’m very sorry you grew up believing that.’
It was with a heavy heart that Gabriele locked his car and went into the apartment with Elena.
When she excused herself to take a shower, he took the opportunity to catch up on emails with some privacy.
Carlos had agreed to meet him in person. For an extra one hundred thousand dollars he would bring the originals with him.
Gabriele didn’t quibble over it. He would spend any amount of money to exonerate his father and clear his own name. Whatever it took.
Anna Maria was convinced that, for an even larger sum, Carlos could be persuaded to defect and testify in person. It would be Gabriele’s job to persuade him.
The end game was coming. If he could convince Carlos to testify—and that was by no means a given—then Ignazio Ricci was finished.
But the gratification of a game plan coming to fruition was nowhere to be found.
When he and Elena went their separate ways she would be all alone. He knew her father’s arrest would be painful for her; he couldn’t bring himself to imagine how painful. Who would she turn to? Her brothers?
He almost laughed out loud at the thought of those idiots attempting to comfort her.
She had family in Sweden though...
He straightened, an idea formulating.
He put a quick call through to Anna Maria. ‘I need you to track down Hilde Ricci’s family in Sweden,’ he said. ‘Call me as soon as you have anything.’
Tomorrow night he and Elena would celebrate their wedding. They might know it was all for show but no one else did. He had a decent-sized family and numerous friends. The only people attending from her side were her father and brothers. If his idea paid off, he might be able to even it out a little for her.
Feeling moderately better in himself, Gabriele headed to the bedroom, certain she would have finished showering by now. Elena spent more time in the shower than anyone he’d ever known. With anyone else he’d see it as an invitation to join them but with Elena he knew it was her way of destressing away from him when her thoughts became too much.
She was bent over, a large towel wrapped around her, rubbing at her hair with a smaller one.
She spotted him, straightened, tightened the towel and scurried back into the bathroom.
After three weeks spending virtually every waking—and sleeping—moment together it was hard to believe she could still be so shy around him.
Inhaling deeply, he undressed.
Moments later she returned wearing her robe, the sash knotted so tightly he was surprised she could breathe.
Her eyes widened to see he’d stripped off to just his boxers.
‘Are you going to shower now?’ she asked, averting her gaze, colour creeping up her cheeks.
‘Soon.’
When would she have the courage to be naked around him outside the bed itself?
‘Are we still eating out?’
‘Yes.’ As neither of them could cook and it suited him not to have his housekeeping staff around too much—he’d noticed Elena was much less inhibited when it was just the two of them even if the needed privacy meant she wouldn’t kiss him—they ate out most days.
Stepping over to her, he took her by the arms and gently swivelled her round to stand before the full-length mirror. He undid the knot of the robe, and smoothed the silk away from her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet.
‘What do you see?’ he asked.
She met his eyes in the reflection, a question in them. ‘You and me?’
‘Forget about me. Look at your reflection and tell me what you see.’
‘I see...’ she lifted a shoulder ‘...me.’
‘And who are you?’
‘Elena.’
‘And who is Elena?’
Her lips clamped together.
Stepping behind her, he placed his hands to her jaw and rubbed his fingers against her soft skin, then gathered her hair together and kissed the swan of her neck.
‘When I look at you, I see a woman. A beautiful...’ he kissed her shoulder ‘...intelligent...’ he kissed the top of her spine ‘...passionate woman.’
Snaking his tongue down her back, he dropped to his knees and kissed her bottom.
‘You are neither a whore nor a Madonna. You are a woman with desires and needs that are all your own.’
