Bride By Choice Read online

  ‘Since January,’ Lorenzo said. ‘We met under very unusual circumstances.’ He nudged Helen. ‘Why don’t you tell them how we were discussing marriage in the first ten minutes?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a story for anyone else’s ears,’ she simpered, divining his intention at once.

  Calypso was briefly diverted from her self absorption. ‘You guys got the hots for each other that bad?’

  Lorenzo couldn’t meet Helen’s eyes.

  She controlled her amusement long enough to murmur, ‘That bad. It caused a lot of problems.’

  ‘OK, OK,’ bawled Dagwood, not pleased with these reminiscences. ‘Let’s have some more to drink.’

  Helen made another effort. ‘Lorenzo’s been telling me all about his trip-’

  ‘I bet he hasn’t told you everything,’ Calypso giggled, snuggling against Lorenzo.

  It occurred to Helen that she disliked Calypso very much indeed.

  ‘I doubt I’d have been interested in everything,’ she said coolly.

  ‘In fact, I bet he ain’t told you nothing,’ Calypso said triumphantly. ‘What?’ This was addressed to her mother who’d muttered something in her ear. ‘For Pete’s sake, Mom! Who cares if it’s a double negative? What’s a double negative, anyway? We ain’t feeling negative, are we, honey?’ She was walking her fingertips over Lorenzo’s chest.

  That did it! Without altering her smile a fraction Helen leaned over to Calypso and said clearly, ‘If you don’t want to end up in the pool, take your hands off my man.’

  ‘Daddy!’ Calypso’s wail almost parted the pool water.

  Dagwood rose to his feet, almost frothing with rage. ‘What’s the matter with you people? You’re animals. I don’t have to take this. You!’ He pointed at Lorenzo. ‘You’d better get smart, right now.’

  Lorenzo regarded him, his eyes sparkling with pure Sicilian anger. But his voice had a calm silkiness. ‘And just what do you mean by “get smart”, Mr. Baxter?’

  Dagwood jabbed a finger in Helen’s direction. ‘She just insulted my daughter.’

  ‘Actually, she didn’t,’ Maggie observed mildly. ‘She said she’d throw her in the pool. That wasn’t an insult, it was a threat.’

  ‘Does it matter?’ Dagwood was beside himself.

  ‘Well, strictly speaking, if you-’

  ‘Dammit, Maggie, this isn’t the moment to start picking holes.’

  ‘I was only trying to help, dear.’

  Dagwood tried again. ‘She insul-threatened my daughter. What are you going to do about it?’

  Lorenzo rose, and there was something in his eyes that made Dagwood take a step backwards.

  ‘I’m going to marry her,’ he said flatly. ‘That’s what I’m going to do.’

  ‘Then you can forget about selling your carrots to Dagwood C. Baxter. Yes, sir.’

  Lorenzo’s smile was full of soft menace. ‘Mr Baxter-stuff your order.’

  Dagwood snorted, gathered up his belongings, plus his family, and retreated with as much dignity as he could muster. At the last moment he flung back a look of loathing and was further affronted by the sight of Helen in gales of laughter.

  When they were alone Lorenzo eyed her warily.

  ‘You were marvellous,’ she choked at last. ‘The first man who’s ever prized my hand in marriage over a million dollars.’

  ‘Helen-’

  ‘It’s all right, I know you didn’t mean it.’

  ‘Of course I didn’t mean it,’ he said quickly. ‘I’m not ready to die.’

  ‘But I still think you’re marvellous.’

  ‘Yeah, marvellous,’ he muttered. ‘And a coward as well.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing. Let’s dance.’

  A band had struck up and dancers were whirling by the pool, now filled with the reflections of colourful shapes. Lorenzo took her hand and led her to where they could vanish into the crowd and be private in each other’s arms.

  He blew out his cheeks. ‘Oh, boy, what an evening!’

  ‘How are you going to explain to Renato that you lost a million dollar order?’

  ‘I’ll tell him to come out and try the lion’s den for himself. Now forget Renato. I want to concentrate on that dress. It’s been giving me problems. It’s giving me problems right now.’

  ‘I can see that,’ she said, following his gaze down to her cleavage. ‘You’re behaving most improperly, and I think you should stop.’

  ‘How the hell am I supposed to stop?’ he said through gritted teeth.

  She considered the matter seriously. ‘If you were to draw me closer you wouldn’t be able to see down that far.’

  He tightened his arm. ‘Like that?’

  ‘That’s better.’

  It was getting late and the music had developed a more melancholy, reflective character, conducive to dancing closely. She shouldn’t be doing this, she thought. She enjoyed the feel of Lorenzo’s body more than she ought, and his mouth was dangerously close to hers, filling her with longing.

  ‘How long before you have to go?’ she murmured.

  ‘I can stay here a couple more days. Can you stay?’

  ‘Two days, yes.’

  And then-nothing. For the rest of her life.

  ‘I’ll come back,’ he said, reading her thoughts. ‘And you can visit Sicily.’

  ‘I don’t think I should do that. People might get the wrong idea.’

  ‘They’d think we were in love.’ His mouth brushed hers as he spoke.

  She tried to speak but his lips silenced her, and she knew that she’d longed for this since the first night, the first stolen kiss. The sensation was so ravishing that it almost stunned her.

  At last she looked around and realised that they were alone on the floor. People were watching them, smiling. ‘The music has stopped,’ she said in wonder.

  ‘Yes, and we’re providing the entertainment. Let’s get out of here.’ He seized her hand and they hurried from the floor, to the accompaniment of applause.

  At her door they stopped. ‘Elena-’

  ‘Don’t,’ she begged. ‘Just-go to bed.’ She opened her door and half moved inside.

  His whispered ‘Goodnight,’ was almost inaudible, but it stopped her. She stood for long moment, her head lowered, looking at his hand, resting in hers. She stepped backwards, still holding him, enticing him to follow her. He took a step, then paused, watching her face until she drew him after her and closed the door.

  He reached a tentative hand to the light switch but she stopped him, and they stood in the semi darkness, listening to each other’s soft breathing.

  ‘Elena,’ he said again, and she didn’t try to make him say Helen. At this moment it seemed quite natural to be Elena, feeling her fierce Sicilian blood pounding in her veins and all her senses leaping towards him.

  When he laid his lips on hers she leaned close, and suddenly the barriers were down and they were kissing each other with all the urgency they had tried to deny. It seemed such a long time since their meeting, and yet this kiss was only a continuation of that first one, as though they had been kissing ever since.

  ‘We said we mustn’t do this,’ he murmured.

  ‘We were wrong-so wrong-’ She was kissing him madly, already wrought to an unbearable pitch of excitement just by touching him. ‘This is something we-must-do-’

  ‘Yes,’ he said as his lips moved down her neck. ‘I guess-we always knew that.’

  She was distantly aware that his hands were moving, causing her clothes to slip away, one by one. She didn’t know where her dress went, but without it she was wearing hardly anything.

  ‘I must have been crazy asking you to wear that thing,’ he gasped. ‘It’s been torturing me all evening.’ He was tearing off his clothes.

  She could barely see him in the semi dark, but she knew the width of his shoulders, and she enjoyed drawing her fingers over the hard muscles. ‘Life guard,’ Dilys had called him, making a joke of it, but as Helen savoured his powe
r and beauty all laughter died in her, replaced by thrilling anticipation.

  She had been so full of doubt, but now her doubts were fading to nothing, overcome by the magic of his caresses. This was Lorenzo, whose touch excited her as no other man’s had ever done.

  He drew her down onto the bed and eased off her panties, then looked at her for a long time, his eyes full of delight, a little smile of appreciation on his lips. Slowly he drew his fingertips down the side of her face and across her lips. It was the lightest movement but it filled her with fire, and she let out her breath slowly, relishing the feelings that were taking possession of her. He dropped his head to let his lips take over, touching her mouth softly, teasing it with intent.

  Thus distracted, she didn’t realise at first that his hands were on the move again, finding her breasts, caressing them with skilful movements that sent the warmth rushing through her. When he laid his lips against them it was almost a gesture of reverence, but it set off a tempest within her that blew away the last of her caution. She opened her mouth, luring him in and challenging him so that his own excitement mounted.

  Her mouth, her face, her breasts all came to new life under his kisses, and she responded eagerly to the demands of his lips and hands. He had the body of a man who lived an active outdoor life, lean, muscular, honed to vigorous perfection. She could feel his strength but also his control and tenderness, his consideration and generosity, and her love flowed out to encompass him. This was right. This was how it was always meant to be.

  She knew that at any moment he would move over her, and she was ready for him, eager. Wanting him with all her being, she reached for him…

  The bedside phone shrilled.

  ‘Oh, no!’ she cried. ‘Let’s ignore it, until it stops.’

  ‘Cara, I’m not a man of iron,’ Lorenzo groaned. ‘You’ll have to answer it.’

  ‘But who could want me at this hour?’ she wailed in frustration.

  ‘Find out, and get rid of them quickly.’

  Helen snatched up the phone. ‘Hello.’

  ‘I must speak to Lorenzo Martelli urgently,’ said a female voice. ‘He’s not in his room. Please, do you know where he is?’

  ‘He’s here,’ Helen said reluctantly, and passed the receiver to Lorenzo while she slid off the bed.

  She took her silk wrap from the wardrobe, pulled it on and went into the bathroom to give him some privacy. But she couldn’t avoid hearing him say ‘Carissima!’ into the phone. She closed the door, muttering Sicilian curses under her breath, mostly directed at the receptionist who had seen them together earlier, and must have directed the caller to her room.

  As she splashed water on her face and tried to calm her shattered nerves Helen thought of the voice on the phone, with its soft, feminine vibrancy. It was a sweet, charming voice, and Lorenzo had said ‘Carissima!’ with an affectionate urgency that revealed a lot. One moment he’d been tense at the interruption to his love-making. The next instant this strange woman had claimed all his attention.

  ‘Stop this!’ she told her reflection firmly. ‘You’re thinking nonsense!’

  But her blood was still pounding in her veins with the heated anticipation that his touch had induced. Her whole body wanted him wildly, and ‘Carissima’ had come between them.

  When she heard the click of the receiver being replaced she went out, and what she saw wiped her own problems from her mind.

  ‘Darling, what is it?’ she asked anxiously, taking hold of his arms. ‘Whatever’s happened to make you like this?’

  She would never have believed that Lorenzo could look so distraught, so ill. When he spoke he sounded as though he were forcing the words out through a daze of shock.

  ‘That was Heather, my sister-in-law. Mamma has been taken ill.’

  ‘Oh, no! How?’

  ‘She has a weak heart and she’s had a bad turn. She’s had them before, but they’re worried about this one. I have to go home.’

  He shook his head as though trying to clear it, and Helen put her arms right around him, holding him in a wordless message of comfort. He held her back, very tightly.

  ‘She’s been frail for years,’ he said, ‘but somehow she always came through, and you get to take it for granted that she always will. But Heather’s worried. She’s so old-’

  ‘Then the sooner you get home, the better. Get packed while I arrange your flight.’

  ‘Helen,’ he said suddenly, ‘come with me.’

  ‘What?’

  He looked searchingly into her face. ‘Come to Sicily with me. I’ll need you there if-’

  ‘Hush, it won’t happen.’ She kissed him lightly. ‘But of course I’ll come.’

  He began to pull on his clothes while she picked up the phone to call the desk. But before she could speak Lorenzo reached out and cut her off.

  ‘No,’ he said, ‘you mustn’t come. Forget I said it?’

  She looked at him in shock. ‘You don’t want me?’

  ‘Of course I want you, but you have your job to get back to. What was I thinking of, asking you go half way around the world just to suit me? Forgive me.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ she demanded. ‘If you want me with you, that’s where I’m going to be.’

  ‘But your job, you’ve worked so hard and this is no time to be taking risks-’

  ‘To hell with the risk. I’ll talk to Erik, he’ll help us.’

  ‘You’re wonderful,’ he said simply.

  Irrationally she felt tears start to her eyes. She brushed them away and called the reception desk. In a few minutes they were booked to New York, where they would connect with a flight to Sicily. Then she called Erik. As she had hoped, he was glad to help her.

  ‘You’ll need your passport,’ he said. ‘I’ll get Dilys to take it to JFK.’

  When she’d finished the call Helen sat still, trying to understand what had happened to her. Lorenzo was right. She should be concentrating on the job that had always been so vital to her. But all she could think of was him, and the anguished look on his face, and her need to comfort him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  H ELEN’S first view of Sicily was very strange to her. It was the place that indirectly had affected everything in her life, including the person she had become. ‘The old country’ had been like an extra member of the family, issuing silent commands, the yardstick by which everything was judged, and against which she had always rebelled. And now here it was, a triangle of land floating in the midst of a glittering blue sea, and all she could think of was how beautiful it looked.

  But she soon turned away. Lorenzo needed her now. He was pale and staring into space, counting the seconds as they descended, getting closer to the moment when some family member would meet them with the news-perhaps that his mother was dead.

  Helen took his hand between both hers and squeezed it. He gave her a grateful look and squeezed back, trying to smile. His vulnerability touched her heart. For so long she’d tried to keep her feelings for him within limits, but the whole pretence was falling apart. She’d chosen to make love with him because her rising passion could no longer be denied. But this was more than passion. Her heart ached for him.

  As they came through customs Lorenzo looked around him anxiously until he saw a young, fair woman, behind the barrier. She was waving, smiling, giving a thumbs-up sign with both hands. He dashed forward to embrace the young woman eagerly but carefully, for she was heavily pregnant.

  As Helen grew closer she heard her say, ‘It’s all right, my dear. She’s out of danger, and longing to see you.’

  She glanced at Helen and he hastened to introduce them. ‘Helen, this is Heather, who is married to my brother, Renato. Heather, this is Helen Angolini who came with me because-because-’ he seemed unable to find the words.

  ‘I understand,’ Heather said quickly. ‘Welcome, Helen. The family will be so glad to meet you after all Lorenzo has told us.’

  This wasn’t the moment to ask what Lorenzo had said about h
er. In no time they were in the back of the car, hurrying to Palermo and the hospital where Baptista lay.

  ‘Mamma simply passed out,’ Heather explained, ‘and her heart rhythm became very unsteady. In view of her age we were worried. But the doctors have managed to stabilise her and she’s looking a lot better.’ She smiled at Helen. ‘She was thrilled when I told her you were coming too.’

  Helen smiled abstractedly, and left the other two to talk.

  So this was Heather, the woman with the beautiful voice, whom Lorenzo called carissima. Helen could feel the glow of the affection and understanding between them.

  In a few minutes they had reached the hospital and were ushered upstairs to the room where Baptista lay. Just outside it stood a man Helen recognised from Lorenzo’s pictures as his brother Renato. He was a dark and swarthy, not as tall as Lorenzo and heavily muscled. He broke into a smile at the sight of his brother, and grasped his hand.

  ‘Mamma has just woken after a good sleep, and she’s well,’ he said. ‘Her first words were to ask about you.’

  He opened a nearby door, pulling it wide, so that Helen had a clear view on the bed and the beautiful white-haired woman already looking eagerly to the door. Lorenzo went to her swiftly, gathering her into his great arms so that she almost vanished in his embrace. Helen caught a brief glimpse of her face, glowing with happiness at the return of her youngest, before the door was closed.

  Renato was embracing Heather, giving her a look in which love and anxiety mingled. She made the introductions.

  ‘We have all looked forward to meeting you, Helen,’ Renato said, courteously. ‘It was time Lorenzo brought you here.’

  She wasn’t sure how to answer a remark that seemed to imply so much. Luckily Renato’s attention was claimed by the arrival of Bernardo and his wife, Angie. Again, Helen recognised them from Lorenzo’s snaps.

  More greetings. More keen glances as though her presence had some deep significance. The kindly Angie noticed her looking lost, and embraced her warmly.

  ‘You came all this way to be with Lorenzo?’ she said. ‘That was wonderful of you. Some good news will do wonders for Baptista’s recovery.’