‘But I thought we’d try something different for a change!’ said Cassie brightly.
Four pairs of curious eyes were trained on her.
‘So where did you two meet?’ questioned Gianpiero as he politely ladled a couple of sprouts from the dish.
‘I was…I was working in a store, actually.’
A brief silence was filled in by Serafina. ‘Oh! Which store?’
‘Hudson’s.’
‘Hudson’s? Honey, isn’t that where you picked up that suit?’ asked Nick.
Kate smiled back. ‘It is indeed. Why, you might even have served me, Cassandra.’
‘I doubt it. You see, I worked in the candle section,’ said Cassie doggedly, just wishing that the floor would open her up and swallow her.
‘Don’t tell me Giancarlo was buying candles?’ drawled Nick.
‘No, I was much more interested in the person selling them,’ he murmured, and they all laughed.
But the revelation about just how lowly her job had been made Cassie sink even further inside herself and the rest of the evening passed by in an embarrassing blur. The food tasted like stodgy sawdust and was only saved by some brilliantly strong Italian coffee and the expensive dark chocolate bought by Serafina. By the time the guests had left in a flurry of goodbyes and air kisses—she felt completely drained—as if all the life and energy had been sucked from her.
Giancarlo bolted the front door and looked at her as she slumped tiredly against the wall. ‘So what was all that about?’ he questioned softly.
‘Which bit are you referring to?’ she snapped. ‘The complete flop of the meal or the fact that I sloshed wine all over a thousand-dollar suit?’
‘I’m talking about the way you sat there looking as if you were a witness at your own execution!’
‘Can you blame me? Your friends don’t like me.’
‘That’s complete rubbish. You didn’t really give them a chance, did you?’
‘Everything they said went way over my head. You were all talking about things I’d never heard of!’
‘But that’s hardly surprising—I haven’t seen them for ages and I’ve known them for years—’
‘While you’ve only known me for five minutes?’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ he said frustratedly.
‘No?’ Suddenly, an odd feeling of weakness washed over her—as if she’d been battling and battling against some immovable force and had finally run out of strength. She shook her head. ‘Look, maybe this is all a waste of time and we should just stop pretending to each other,’ she said wearily. ‘Maybe I should just give you your freedom—at least that way you can get together with Gabriella and have some chance of happiness.’
Giancarlo stilled. ‘So that I can what? What did you just say?’
Cassandra shrugged. ‘She’s going to split from your brother—you told me that and so did she. She also told me that all of your friends were wondering why the hell you married me—and tonight proved her right. She still wants you—she made that perfectly clear. And I know you still want her, Giancarlo.’
There was a heartbeat of silence. ‘And just how do you know that?’ he questioned dangerously.
But Cassie was too distraught to heed the icy warning in his voice and much too emotional to be able to bite back the words she had been bottling up for days now.
‘Because you didn’t lay a finger on me after the wedding, did you? Not until the day we saw her. Then you couldn’t get enough of me—it was like you were wild for me that night.’ The bitterness welled up, like an all-consuming cloud. ‘Did you close your eyes and imagine it was her, Giancarlo?’ she whispered. ‘Her you were making love to—not me? Is that why you said all those things to me in Italian—things I couldn’t even understand?’
There was a fraught and disbelieving silence. ‘You think that?’ His face had drained of all colour. ‘You really think I am capable of such behaviour as that?’
Her mind was spinning so much that she wasn’t sure what she was thinking any more and the thready beat of her heart was making her feel dizzy. ‘It’s the kind of assumption any woman might make under the circumstances.’
His stony words matched the sudden hard gleam of his eyes. ‘Not if she had any respect for her husband,’ he snapped. ‘Or any respect for herself!’
At this, something inside her snapped back. ‘How can I respect myself when I get nothing back from you? You never tell me what’s on your mind. You never open up to me. I don’t really matter to you, do I, Giancarlo—not as person? I never have, not really. I’m just a commodity—first a mistress and now a prospective mother. You don’t want me—only what I can give you!’