Phantom Marriage

Veronica’s lifted her eyebrows in a nonchalant gesture. ‘There’s not much I can say. The report has spelt it out and it’s all true. My fiancé was killed in a motorcycle accident just before our wedding. I was devastated, then deeply depressed for a long time. And, yes, ever since then I’ve lived the life of a nun. There haven’t been any sheikhs or any other men in my life, or in my bed, for three years.’

‘Not exactly the impression you gave me, is it?’ he threw at her.

Her shrug was a brilliant echo of the shrugs he often used. ‘What can I say? When I found out Laurence was my father and that he’d left me a villa on Capri, I finally saw the error of my ways. I decided then and there to throw off my nun’s habit and start living life again.’

His lips pursed, his dark eyes narrowing with obvious distrust.

‘So when did you start taking the pill?’ he demanded to know.

‘Girls take the pill these days for many reasons,’ Veronica said haughtily, but with her fingers crossed under the table. ‘It protects you from osteoporosis, as well as reducing premenstrual tension. It is not always about avoiding an unwanted pregnancy, although nothing beats a condom for safe sex,’ she added tartly for good measure.

The best defence was always attack. Or so she’d read.

He looked both distracted and offended. ‘You keep on saying things like that,’ he snapped. ‘I assure you, I am perfectly safe. And I am not as bad as you think.’

‘Yes you are, Leonardo. But no sweat. I like you the way you are. You’re great fun, and fantastic in bed. On top of that, I certainly won’t have to worry about leaving you behind with a broken heart when I go back to Australia.’

His mouth opened then closed like a floundering fish’s.

She might have laughed if her last words hadn’t made her own heart lurch all of a sudden. Maybe she was the one who should worry about going back with a broken heart.

Leonardo finally found his tongue. ‘I don’t know what to say,’ he said, sounding totally flummoxed.

‘You don’t have to say anything, do you?’

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

LEONARDO TRIED TO keep his outrage going, but it was hard in the face of her nonchalance over the situation. When she smiled at him, he simply had to smile back.

‘Truly,’ he said with a shake of his head. ‘You are impossible!’

‘So my mother tells me. Oh, Lord, that reminds me,’ she said, jumping up and leaving the report on the dining table.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To get my phone and send Mum the photos I took today. I might ring her as well. You go drink your coffee and see if you can find anything more on that computer. Then afterwards you can show me where the wine cellar is. I also might have to rustle up something for us to eat. I don’t know how late it is, but I’m starting to feel darned hungry.’

She dashed off, leaving Leonardo staring after her with hunger of a different kind.

Shaking his head at himself, he reached over and picked up the report, reading it through again. Nothing new struck him, though this time he felt more compassion for Veronica’s plight. It must have been very hard for her, losing the man she loved shortly before their wedding. The first time he’d read the report his reaction had been shock, plus anger at the way she’d deceived him. Leonardo was never good with female deception. Now, admiration crept in with his compassion. It had been brave of her to throw off her depression and come to Capri. Brave to adopt a brighter, happier personality, instead of the dreary one which came across in that report.

Laurence had done a good thing, leaving her this place. Though, damn it all, he should have contacted his daughter earlier. She was his flesh and blood. Okay, so she might not have been conceived in the normal way, but what did that matter? She was still family.

When Leonardo folded the pages over then stood up, a memory teased his mind, a memory of Laurence doing exactly the same thing that last weekend. Clearly, he’d been reading this very report when Leonardo had come to visit him. But, also clearly, Laurence hadn’t wanted to tell him about it. Instead, he’d folded the pages and hurried away, hiding the contents from him. Why? Leonardo was puzzled. They’d been very close friends. With Ruth dead and Laurence himself dying, there’d been no reason why he shouldn’t have told him that he had a daughter in Australia. They could have discussed the situation together.

But Laurence had remained silent on the matter, choosing instead to drink wine and make idle conversation with Leonardo about his family’s constant pressuring him to get married. Leonardo felt quite hurt that his friend hadn’t confided in him about his secret daughter. Instead, he’d hurried off to London, changed his will then died without explaining why he’d structured his last wishes that way.

Leonardo could only speculate. He didn’t know. He supposed it had to have been to get Veronica to come here personally. Though, there had been no guarantee of that. She could have sold the place from Australia and never darkened this doorstep. Still, Laurence wouldn’t have thought of that. He really h

adn’t had a great imagination. If he’d decided something would happen a certain way, then it had to happen that way. It was as well that he’d made him executor of the will. Leonardo suspected that, if he hadn’t met Veronica all those years ago, she might not have come to Capri.

What a terrible thought!

So was the thought that Veronica would soon be leaving. He wondered how he could persuade her to stay longer. It wasn’t just the sex. It was her company—rather like having Laurence still here, only better.

He had just sat down at the computer again when Veronica returned.

‘I didn’t ring Mum,’ she explained. ‘I just sent her the photos and a text. She told me the other day that I didn’t have to ring all the time and that I should just have a good holiday away from everything. I took her at her word this time. Did you find anything more on the computer?’