door—to open it—and then she was outside, blinking in the blinding combination of sunlight and flashbulbs, hearing the click and whirr of cameras, the sudden shouts of interest, the litany of questions.
‘Miss Wellesley—Amber…’
Tears blurred her eyes so that she couldn’t see, she almost missed her footing and would have fallen down the stone steps if Guido hadn’t reacted instantly, his strong arm coming round her, holding her tight at her waist, supporting her and halfcarrying her along with him.
‘A couple of questions…’
But this time there was a difference. This time she wasn’t the only one who was in the firing line. It came as a shock to hear Guido’s name, too, in the shouts and calls for attention.
‘Just a word, Mr Corsentino…’
Halfway down the steps, Guido came to a halt, still holding her tightly. Automatically, she turned to him, confused by the sudden halt to their progress. But his eyes weren’t on her; instead they were surveying the crowd around them, scanning the scene with cool control.
‘I will issue a full statement later today that I hope will answer all your questions, but for now all you need to know is that my wife and I have reconciled. What happened here today shocked us into the realisation that we still care deeply for each other and we want to work towards a new future together. All we ask is that you give us a little peace and privacy to do so.’
To Amber’s amazement the announcement seemed to work. Certainly, the buzz of questions seemed to lessen and, although the cameras still flashed, it was with less frenetic intensity.
She barely had a second to register it, for just at that moment a sleek and powerful car swept to a halt just outside the lych-gate.
That couldn’t be…
But even as she formed the thought, Guido had tightened his grip on her waist and was striding through the group of newspaper men, taking her with him, whether she was ready or not.
She had a vague, blurry impression of a uniformed figure getting hastily out of the car and opening the door to the back seat for them, standing by while Guido helped her inside and then joined her on the soft leather seat. The door was slammed, the driver taking his own place and starting the engine before she had fully registered just what was happening.
A few seconds later they were on the road and speeding away from the church.
Guido sat back in his seat and raked both his hands through the black sleekness of his hair, before he turned those deep, burning eyes on her. There was no warmth in them, or showing on his face. Instead once again that cold, ruthless control that she had seen in the church was etched firmly onto his stunning features.
‘Well, that is stage one,’ he told her, his voice flat and emotionless. ‘Now for stage two.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘WHERE are we going?’
It took Amber longer than he had anticipated to ask the question, Guido admitted. He had expected that the words would be the first thing out of her mouth as soon as they were away from the church. But instead she had surprised him by remaining silent for a good few minutes, seemingly turned in on herself, huddled in the corner, her eyes almost closed, her hands clasped together in her lap.
In fact, he had been so convinced that she had been shocked into speechlessness that he almost jumped when he heard her quiet voice and turned to see that she was sitting up more, her green eyes puzzled and a faint frown drawing her chestnut brows together as she considered the route they were taking, the countryside flashing past.
‘I said, where are we going?’ she repeated when he hesitated for a second. ‘Where are you taking me?’
She wasn’t going to like the answer, Guido reflected inwardly. In fact. he was pretty damn sure that their destination was going to be the very last place on earth that she wanted to be. But from the moment that she had agreed to come with him, he had decided that this was the way he wanted to play things and he had no intention of going back on that decision now.
‘We’re going to…’ he began but then the way that the car rounded a sudden bend in the road took away the need for any answer at all. Looking into Amber’s face, he saw it change. Saw those big green eyes widen with shock, her soft pink mouth fall open in disbelief as she recognised the huge, elegant, white-painted building that lay ahead of them.
‘No!’
For long, stunned seconds she simply stared, shaking her head in confusion and incredulity. Then:
‘No!’ She rounded on him in a fury. ‘No way! This is the hotel where the wedding reception was supposed to be held!’
‘I know—and it’s where the—’ he hunted for a suitable word ‘—the non-wedding reception is still being held. Franco told me that your would-be groom’s parents have decided not to waste the cost of the banquet they had ordered for the wedding of their son and heir. They invited all their friends to come back here after the wedding was called off.’
‘So why are we here?’
‘I thought it would be a good idea to join them.’
‘You thought!’ Amber spluttered furiously. ‘Well, you can just think again. There’s no way on earth I’m going in there.’
‘Oh, but you are.’
‘I can’t! They won’t want to see me—in fact, I’m the last person on earth they would want to have appear at their—their wake for the wedding that never was. You saw what happened at the altar.’
‘I saw.’
Guido’s tone was dark as his thoughts as he remembered just how Rafe St Clair had reacted. The man was a hypocrite as well as a coward. Even if his own slate had been totally clean—which it wasn’t—he still had no right to speak to any woman that way.
‘Then you’ll know that they’re hardly going to welcome me with open arms—they’re far more likely to slam the door shut in my face.’
‘They won’t do that because I am going in there with you.’
It was meant to reassure but it had the opposite effect. What little colour was left in her face fled from Amber’s cheeks, making her eyes burn even more emerald-bright than ever.
‘That will just make matters worse! Why are you doing this, Guido? What do you hope to gain from it?’
‘Gain?’ Guido queried sharply. ‘I would have thought that was obvious. I want them to see that you are with me now.’
‘Only until the furore dies down. And do you have to rub their noses in it?’
‘Rub their…?’
Guido threw up his hands in exasperation at the impossibility of understanding some of the most peculiar of English phrases.
‘If you mean that I want to make sure they realise the way things are now, then yes. Yes, I do. You are mine. The Press know that—the paparazzi know that—and now your high and mighty aristocratic
