There was only one business destination to which she declined to accompany him—London.
She would be there again soon enough...
When their sunsets had slipped from present into past.
She did not think about it. Would not. There was no point. She was with him now, sharing his life, his bed. When he no longer needed her to be his wife she would not be.
It was, after all, very simple.
Best to keep it that way.
The way Salvatore had told her it was.
Salvatore swung into the Viscari Roma, glad of the air-conditioning within. Rome in late summer was hot, and it felt even hotter after the rain London had been experiencing. He wished Lana had come with him, but she never came on his London trips.
‘You only come abroad with me for the sightseeing!’ he’d accused her with a laugh.
‘I was never keen on London even when I had to live there,’ she’d answered. ‘I’ll be selling up and moving out once I’m back in the UK permanently.’
He’d found himself frowning slightly at what she’d said. Then put it down to his disappointment that she didn’t want to come with him. He didn’t want to be away from her even for a handful of days.
And now he was back in Rome. He had flown in that very evening, in time to join Lana in celebrating Luc’s birthday with a convivial dinner. It was to be here at the Viscari again, in the same private salon where he’d first introduced Lana to his friends in the spring.
He frowned again. Had so much time really passed since then? Had Lana really been part of his life that long already? It seemed to have flashed by.
Maybe, he thought, it was because disentangling his affairs from Roberto was proving easier than he’d been prepared for. And the main reason for that was that, far from obstructing him, Roberto was co-operating in the process.
For that, Salvatore thought cynically, he had Giavanna to thank. Thwarted in her ambitions for himself, she had set her sights on another prey. This time, much to her doting father’s approval, the heir to a viscountcy. Salvatore wished them well of each other.
Now, making his way to the bar, where they were gathering before dinner, he let his eyes go straight to Lana, decorously sipping a cocktail, one fabulously long leg crossed elegantly over the other, looking, as ever, a complete knock-out in an iridescent mid-blue sheath that moulded her beautiful body. A stab of pride and proprietorship went through Salvatore, his eyes only for her.
And she had eyes only for him.
As she saw him her face lit, and she said his name in happy greeting. He kissed her cheeks, then greeted the others. Laura’s pregnancy was advanced, and he could see Vito was being very protective of her.
Luc arrived shortly after, Stephanie with him, as exuberant as ever. She and Luc had had one of their periodic splits, each amusing themselves with a different partner, but were now back with each other again. It was a strange relationship, and one Salvatore could not fathom. The words Luc had said to him a while back came back into his head—that he would be prepared to stand by Stephanie if she ever got pregnant by a man who didn’t want her. What would persuade a man to do that?
He gave a mental shrug, setting aside such a personally irrelevant question, settling down to an enjoyable evening.
A decisive glint formed in his eyes as he ran them over Lana. She was more beautiful than ever. Her figure, now that her model’s ultra-low-calorie diet was long gone, was more rounded now, deliciously curvaceous in all the right places. He could not wait to celebrate his return to Italy that night with her...
Lana stepped out of the ferociously expensive famous-name boutique in the Via dei Condotti, and stopped short.
‘Lana, ciao! Been spending more of Salvatore’s money? What gorgeous gowns have you bought this time?’
The voice greeting her was friendly, the question humorously expressed, but Lana could hear the barb in it. And she wasn’t surprised. The person hailing her on the pavement was Giavanna Fabrizzi.
Lana schooled her expression into one of politeness. ‘Hello, Giavanna,’ she said in a friendly enough tone.
‘You can wish me happy,’ Giavanna announced, holding up her hand with an air of triumph to show off an engagement ring. ‘It’s been in Ernesto’s family for centuries,’ Giavanna confided with an air of smugness ‘Every viscontessa has worn it—I shall be the next.’
Lana’s smile was genuine. ‘I’m really glad you’ve found your happy ending,’ she said.
Giavanna smiled at her. Did the smile reach her eyes? Lana wasn’t sure. She remained wary of the girl, for all her apparent friendliness now.
‘Just like you did,’ said Giavanna. ‘And,’ she added, ‘that ex of yours.’
Lana tensed. Giavanna was lifting her phone out of her handbag, bringing up a photo.