The Italian's Revenge

‘She lured me to Naples on the information that a well-known investment bank was looking for a new legal firm that specialises in European law,’ he explained. ‘When I asked her the name of the company she said she wasn’t at liberty to give it until she had the go-ahead to make an official approach, but invited me over here this weekend—to meet some people—was the way she baited it. She sounded very plausible,’ he added in his own defence. ‘Extremely knowledgeable about what kind of legal expertise is required in the investment field.’

‘She is,’ Catherine confirmed. ‘She owns stock in Giordani’s, has a place on the board, holds some of their most lucrative portfolios.’

‘Then she wasn’t lying.’ He frowned thoughtfully.

‘About Girodani’s wanting to change lawyers? I don’t know, is the honest answer,’ she replied. ‘All I do know is that Marietta was one of the main causes for my marriage break-up three years ago. And since I came back here I have been expecting her to try the same thing again.’

‘She’s in love with your husband,’ Marcus assumed from that.

Catherine didn’t deny it, though she would probably use the word ‘obsessed’ instead of love. ‘They work very closely together,’ she murmured. ‘Marietta is a natural charmer and Vito is—’

‘Renowned for his troubleshooting qualities.’ Marcus nodded. ‘He turned Stamford Amalgamates round from bankruptcy in weeks only last year.’

‘I didn’t know that!’ Catherine admitted, impressed without wanting to be, since most people knew that Stamford Amalgamates was about as big as a giant conglomerate could get.

‘The fact that they were in trouble was kept secret to save the stock price,’ Marcus explained. ‘It was only after your husband had been in and waved his magic wand that those in the know discovered just how close things had been to collapse. He impresses me,’ he added. ‘Even though I don’t want him to.’

‘I know the feeling,’ Catherine said grimly.

‘Which means he’s a dangerous man to cross.’

‘I know that too.’ She nodded.

‘So why is Marietta attempting to cross him?’

‘Because she is one of the only people Vito lets get away with it.’ Catherine’s smile was bitter.

‘And the reason he does that?’

‘Now there is the big question,’ she mocked. ‘I can give you a dozen maybes, Marcus. But no absolute certainties.’

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘ So give me the maybes.’

He was frowning thoughtfully—thinking on his feet just like Vito, Catherine likened wryly.

Which was probably why she liked him so much, she then realised, and didn’t like the feel of that, since it also probably meant that she had always been looking for Vitotype qualities in every man she had come into contact with over the last three years.

‘Because she is his mother’s beloved goddaughter?’ she suggested. ‘Or because she was married to his best friend? Or maybe it could have something to do with the fact they are lovers?’

‘Lovers in the past tense or the present?’ Marcus asked sharply.

Catherine shrugged a slender shoulder. ‘Both,’ she replied.

‘Rubbish,’ Marcus denounced. ‘That man has too much nous to play around with another woman when he’s got you to come home to.’

Turning towards him, Catherine let her eyes soften. ‘That was sweet of you,’ she murmured softly.

But Marcus gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘I wasn’t being sweet, I was being truthful. I know men, Catherine. I am one myself, after all, so I should do. And I am telling you as a man that your husband is married to the only woman he wants to share his body with.’

Catherine stopped walking to turn sombre eyes on him. ‘Then you tell me why you think you were brought here tonight?’ she prompted gently.

He frowned, not understanding the question. ‘It was Signora Savino who brought me here, in her quest to stir up trouble between you and your husband,’ he replied.

‘But who gave her the idea to use you as a weapon?’ she posed. ‘Who, in other words, told Marietta that you and I were more intimately involved than mere employer and employee?’ she asked. ‘Was it you who told her?’

‘No!’ he denied.

‘And it wasn’t me,’ she said. ‘Which leaves only one other person who knew about us.’