Wearing The De Angelis Ring. Cathy Williams
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‘Are you telling me that I will have to give up my job?’
Theo looked at her pensively. ‘You work in a law office. Am I right?’
‘How did you know?’
‘Your parents told me before you came down,’ Theo said wryly. ‘They thought a little background information about you would be a good idea.’
‘What else did they say?’
‘That you don’t seem particularly enthralled by it...’
Alexa was dismayed. She liked what she did well enough, but her liking it only ‘well enough’ would not have gone unnoticed by her parents. She was their only child, and they could tune in to her moods in ways that were scary.
Was that why they had jumped to the conclusion that she was somehow unhappy with her life?
Like a detective in possession of clue number one, Alexa could begin to see why they might have also come to the conclusion that if she wasn’t happy in her job, she wasn’t happy in her life—and her mother, traditional as she was, would have instantly decided that it was because there was no guy in the picture. She was now twenty-six years old—at an age when so many Italian girls she had grown up with were married, some with kids. Her mother wouldn’t have understood that she was just missing the independence she had had in another country.
‘I haven’t been there very long.’
‘A year and a half is long enough to decide whether you like a job or not. My point being that it won’t be any great sacrifice for you to be flexible with it while we indulge in our passionate love affair. And when we do tie the knot it won’t be any great sacrifice either for you to jack it in altogether and return to London with me. There’s no way I can live out here.’
Alexa’s head was spinning. It didn’t get worse than this. Not only had her life been overturned, but she felt as if she were on a rollercoaster ride and someone else had complete control of the on/off switch.
‘I don’t just work at a law firm,’ she said tightly, ‘I also volunteer three evenings a week at a local women’s shelter, and that’s something that I do happen to like—very much!’
That came as a surprise to Theo. Her parents hadn’t mentioned it, and he wondered whether they’d thought it was something he might find a little embarrassing.
He didn’t.
In fact he was intrigued. There was no need for her to do anything but enjoy living in the lap of luxury. There was certainly no need for her to have a job, but he could understand her wanting that well enough. However, helping out at a women’s shelter was way beyond the call of duty, and he felt a twinge of curiosity about this woman who was going to become his wife.
Since curiosity and women didn’t tend to go hand in hand for him, he allowed himself a few seconds to enjoy the novel sensation.
‘Doing what?’ he asked with genuine interest.
Alexa hesitated. Determined that total detachment was the only way to deal with a situation she didn’t like, convinced anyhow that someone like Theo De Angelis was just the sort of man she could only ever view as an adversary, she was wary of this brief lull in warfare.
He was leaning forward, frowning slightly, his head inclined to one side, waiting for her to reply.
And just for a split second she glimpsed the ferocity of his charm—the charm that drew women like magnets and ensured that his face was always plastered somewhere inside one of those trashy magazines she had told him about.
For a split second it was as if she were the only woman in the universe who interested him. That was how it felt. And even though she knew that it was an illusion, and it didn’t change her fundamental opinion of him, she was still...
Sucked in...
‘I... You probably don’t get this...’ she tried for defensive and belligerent but achieved breathless ‘...but I am actually interested in putting back into the community...’
‘I’d like to argue that one with you, but go on...’
‘I did Law at university, and my experience has been working with pro bono legal teams. I like the thought of being able to help people who need legal aid but haven’t got the money to hire some fancy, expensive lawyer. I like thinking that the little guy can get as much from the system as someone with money.’ Her voice picked up with enthusiasm. ‘One thing led to another, and I found out about a women’s shelter that needed volunteers. I thought it would be just the sort of thing I might like—and I do. I help out there on every level...from mucking in with the general work to giving some of the women there legal advice...’
She stopped abruptly, a little embarrassed at the way she had opened up, even though she was hardly divulging state secrets.
‘Anyway,’ she said, her guard back up and firmly in place, ‘there’s no need to dress up for my job or for my volunteer work—not that I feel comfortable dressing up anyway. You asked me if jeans and baggy jumpers and trainers are the clothes I like wearing and the answer is yes.’
Theo didn’t say anything for a few seconds. He was still chewing over the picture she had painted of herself and marvelling that he could have been so far off target in his assumptions about this person who had been dumped on him.
Then he shook aside the moment of introspection.
Back to the matter in hand.
‘That’s as may be,’ he said, in a voice that allowed no wriggle room, ‘but you’ll need a new wardrobe.’
Alexa was happy to fume once again, even though she could see the sense of what he was saying. Who was going to be convinced that he’d fallen in love with a girl who avoided parties and society affairs and whose wardrobe consisted of varying shades of denim? It just demonstrated how far apart they were in everything aside from their backgrounds, and as far as she was concerned similar backgrounds would never be good enough to bridge the gaps.
Thank goodness there was a time limit on this charade!
‘And what sort of clothes would you suggest?’ she asked politely. ‘Do I have a say in what I wear as the radiant bride-to-be, or are you going to take over that aspect of things as well?’
‘Would you like me to? I’ve never been shopping with a woman in my life before, but I’m more than happy to test-drive the experience with you...’
‘I’ll choose my own clothes,’ Alexa said hurriedly as her head was filled with images of him sitting on a chair in a boutique and looking at her as she paraded different outfits in front of him. Short, over-endowed on the breast front, and lacking in the legs-up-to-her-armpits arena, she could just imagine the comparisons he would make and inwardly cringed.
‘And leaving Italy...?’
He let that very important question drop and wondered