in the eye and, no, she did not need dark glasses to hide behind any more. ‘Did you love her?’
‘Who?’
‘The woman you were busy with through that night...’
He had been trying to bleach out the thought of Bella and Dino. ‘Bella,’ Matteo admitted, ‘I can’t even remember who she was...’
‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘I know this much about her, though, and all the other women since. They loved your money. So tell me, who’s the real whore?’
Matteo didn’t answer.
‘Did you ever think to call me?’ she asked.
‘I called over and over,’ Matteo said, ‘and when you didn’t answer, I called Dino...’
They both knew what he had said.
Matteo cleared his throat. ‘Luka has gone to talk to Sophie,’ he said, about to suggest that they do the same, but Bella was too angry to let him finish.
‘I don’t need your running commentary, Matteo,’ she said. ‘I’ll hear what’s happening from my friend. How is the hotel?’ She glanced up at it and from here she could see the room they had shared that night and bitterness rose in her chest. ‘It’s just as well Shandy isn’t here, it would be a let-down after Fiscella.’
‘Not to me,’ he said, for he had one very pleasant memory of that place.
She looked back at him.
‘I’m in the same room,’ he said. ‘It hasn’t changed a bit.’
‘Oh, so what time do you want me there?’
‘Bella!’ he shouted at her. ‘I didn’t say it for that. I meant that I’m in the same room...’ And he screwed his eyes closed because how did you flirt with a whore? How did you tell her that the memories were killing him and it was agony to be back here?
A beautiful, black agony because it had kept him in the bar all night rather than go back to the room without her there.
‘Do you want me in a maid outfit?’ Bella said. ‘While your fiancée is away, we can play, perhaps...’
‘Yes...’
He would have her again, he would empty his wallet for her again, he would do anything he could just to go back to that night.
There was no thought really, just that.
His kiss was rough, it was fierce, she had been goading him, shaming herself, sure, just sure he would tell her where to get off, that Matteo Santini would not want her in the same way that he once had.
Yet he did.
It hurt. There were tears of shock as she kissed him back. It hurt her soul to taste again what she craved, and now, to give in, she was back at day one, aching with withdrawal, and so even as their tongues thrashed, even as their groins displayed their devotion, somehow, somehow she pushed him back. And then she said not that he couldn’t afford her but the truth.
‘I can’t afford to.’
For if she did, surely she lost her soul?
* * *
Matteo returned to that room and he lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling fan, rather glad of the seedy surroundings.
It had seemed luxurious at the time.
The memory still was.
He had spent five years fulfilling his promise to himself. He had let go of the past, built a reputation, and while he would throw it all away this very moment, still he thought of the impact on her.
Either face the press or live in isolation...
He thought of the sheikh he was meeting with soon to discuss a chain of hotels and how hard it would be on Bella to introduce her as his wife after the salacious headlines had hit...
Matteo was lying there, thinking of throwing everything he had worked for away for Bella, and he knew that he needed out of this place.
A clear head was not possible with her around.
‘Hey.’ Matteo was still lying on the bed in a prison cell called Bella when the reluctant groom called.
‘The wedding’s happening,’ Luka said. ‘For real. I don’t need a lecture. Sophie and I—’
‘I don’t need to hear it.’
He didn’t want to know his friend had found love, he didn’t want to know that he must now dance with Bella tonight.
He wanted his helicopter and he wanted it now. He wanted to be lifted out of the sky and back to the safe haven he had created, where women came loudly and then left, hopefully, quietly.
Instead, a few hours later he stood in a packed church.
All the locals were there.
Past sins forgiven.
But it was not the bride he noticed as Sophie walked down the aisle but the bridesmaid.
Bella was wearing a dress and the colour was ginger and Matteo knew it was the one she had worn for the Natalia party the night he hadn’t shown up.
It was.
She had made a few modifications.
The back was lower and the sleeves were gone.
It showed her slender figure, it brought out the deepest green of her eyes.
Yes, she knew how to dress as a lady and today she was one.
She gave him a very soft smile and then she focussed on the wedding and tried not to cry, because while she would love her friend for ever and did not begrudge her a moment of this day, there was a special pain, a unique loneliness that came when your friend found love.
Bella suddenly felt left behind.
Alone.
With her pride, though, Bella reminded herself.
It was a beautiful wedding but it wasn’t theirs.
Bella and Matteo walked out with the happy couple onto the street and there were cheers and celebration rice was being thrown.
There were drinks to be drunk and speeches to be made, and they did it all and looked out to the street with the olive trees dressed in lights that started to sparkle as evening came. There was no choice but to hold each other again as they danced that one dance.
It was cruel.
It was bliss.
She sank into his arms and he wrapped them around her just because.
He felt the same, Bella thought, he smelt the same, only
