at supersonic speed through the whole history of their relationship, ranging from his laughter in bed with her to the brutal background that he had triumphed over.
And there at the very heart of all her turmoil was the love she had neither acknowledged nor understood. She loved Luciano with all her being and easily zeroed in on every kind and caring thing he did for her from his hesitant tendering of his mother’s ring for their engagement to his patient, undemanding love for Nicky in which he was willing to wait and earn his son’s trust and affection. In the same moment she recognised why her encounter with Sancia and Gigi’s shrine in the guest house had distressed her so much. It had hurt to see Luciano’s love for her predecessor. It had hurt even more to frankly admit that she could never emulate such a woman to win that level of appreciation. With Luciano, she would always be Nicky’s loving stepmother first and his wife second. Second best, second best for all time...
Could she truly live with that?
‘Sorry, Steven. I have to go,’ she said, cutting the call on Steven’s expostulations with relief.
Her face was wet with tears. She had been crying without knowing it and she mopped her face, praying her mascara hadn’t run. There could be no pleasure in appreciating that she would always be inferior in her future husband’s eyes and heart to his first wife, but she was a practical, realistic woman and there really wasn’t much she could do about that hurt. Was there?
She wouldn’t even consider abandoning Nicky, for he felt as much her child as if he had been born to her rather than her sister. She saw no advantage to refusing to marry Luciano either. What would that achieve? She didn’t want to be Nicky’s nanny for the rest of her days or merely Luciano’s lover. And if she didn’t choose to marry him and give him more children, some other woman eventually would.
Not on my watch, Jemima conceded fierily.
SOMETHING VERY LIKE panic sent chilling tentacles travelling deep to pierce Luciano’s usually rock-solid sense of security. He completed the phone call to his future relative, which had been preceded by one from Agnese. He had made a mistake, a serious mistake, he acknowledged with a sinking heart, and now he had to pray that he had sufficient time and the opportunity to put it right. And if he didn’t?
Santa Madonna, that option could not even be considered!
Why the hell had he valued his pride above every other thing in his life for so many years? How on earth had he allowed a past bad experience to cast such a dangerous shadow over the present and potentially destroy his future?
And you thought you were so cool, so clever, he reasoned in a daze of growing shock at the mess he had created. But the creed of silence as a form of protection had been bred into his very bones at his father’s knee. Never tell, never explain, never apologise. And before he had experienced that one weak moment with Jemima he had never broken that rule. He had kept his secrets. He had kept them from the media too. Indeed he had buried those sleazy secrets deep and had refused even to think about them, for that was the safest, wisest way to hold on to sanity.
He had never dwelt on his mistakes because he was a rational man and it came naturally to him to move on past and not look back at car wrecks. Even so, those mistakes had seriously influenced the choices he had made, he conceded belatedly. Furthermore, Jemima didn’t have his conditioning or his inhibitions and she would not understand...
* * *
The helicopter came in over the bay while Jemima was having breakfast with everyone in the shaded loggia on the ground floor. Nicky dropped his toast as he waved his hands with excitement, straining in his high chair to get a better view of the craft as it dropped down out of sight to land in the castle grounds.
‘Is that Luciano coming back?’ Ellie asked uncertainly.
‘I doubt it. He’s not due until tomorrow,’ Jemima said a little tiredly because she had not slept well. ‘And he’s a stickler for his schedules.’
‘I suspect,’ her father murmured warmly as he stared over her shoulder, ‘that your bridegroom missed you more than you know because here he is now...’
Jemima twisted her head round so fast she risked a whiplash injury and she thrust her chair back and stood up to stare in surprise at the male striding through the gardens towards them. It was, without a doubt, Luciano. Sheathed in a dark business suit teamed with a white shirt and silvery tie, he looked both formal and formidable. His lean, darkly handsome face was taut, the line of his beautiful mouth forbidding. A jolt of dismay ran through Jemima and quite instinctively she found herself wondering if she had done something wrong.
His stunning dark golden eyes immediately sought hers as though he was looking for something and then he quickly turned his attention on to their guests and his first physical meeting with her parents. To a backdrop of Nicky’s squeals of excitement and loud vocal appeals to be noticed, Luciano responded smoothly and pleasantly to the tide of introductions before stooping to detach Nicky from his harness and lift him into his arms.
‘Hush,’ he said softly to his son while ruffling his hair. ‘You can’t always be the centre of attention.’
‘Well, when he isn’t he likes to let us know he doesn’t like it!’ her father quipped cheerfully. ‘He’s a terrific little scene stealer.’
‘Let me take him,’ Jemima’s mother urged, holding out her arms. ‘You and Jemima should have some time together in peace.’
Nicky complained loudly at the transfer, demanded Jemima with pleading arms and then sobbed. Carlotta came out of the house to help while Jemima hovered, her attention anxiously pinned to Luciano, for all her nervous antennae were still telling her that something was badly wrong. His long, lean, powerful body was incredibly tense, his movements less fluid than usual and his lean, strong face taut with self-discipline.
Oh, my goodness, she thought in sudden consternation. Maybe he had returned early because he had changed his mind about marrying her! It was a nightmare scenario with the wedding guests and her family already staying at the castle, but it was perfectly possible that he had got cold feet and come back early to tell her. Jemima was quite convinced that such disasters had occurred to better women than her and it was surely more likely to happen when a man wasn’t in love with the woman he had asked to marry him.
Luciano shot another veiled glance at Jemima. She was pale and there were shadows below her beautiful pale eyes and he could see that she looked nothing like a happy bride on the brink of her wedding. Inwardly he cursed himself again and he reached for her hand.
‘Will you come for a walk with me?’ he intoned in a roughened undertone. ‘We have a visit to make.’
Her brow furrowed as he deftly walked her away from the breakfast table. ‘A visit?’
‘I believe you had tea with Sancia yesterday—’
‘My goodness, the grapevine around here is positively supersonic!’ Jemima countered while she thought fast.
‘I like to keep an eye on events when I’m unable to be present in person,’ Luciano assured her with a perfectly straight face.
Controlling...much? But Jemima said nothing because she knew that he was upset and she couldn’t bear that. Glancing up at him, she could see the haunted look
