The Temporary Mrs. Marchetti

Why wasn’t he saying something?

Didn’t he have a conscience? Marriage was sacred. No one should enter into it without proper commitment and consent. It was a travesty to do otherwise. Didn’t he feel the slightest bit conflicted about what they were doing? There was her answer right there. No. He didn’t. All he wanted was the terms of the will ticked off. Goal achieved. Problem solved.

She put her cup back down and lifted the tray off her knees.

‘What’s wrong?’ Cristiano took the tray off her, frowning. ‘Why are you getting out of bed?’

Alice got to her feet and pushed her hair back behind her shoulders. ‘I’m not sure I can do this.’

‘It’s just breakfast in bed,’ he said. ‘No one’s insisting you take the day off work, although maybe I should. You push yourself way too hard. Meghan told me you never take a holiday.’

She turned and faced him. ‘I thought we were going to talk. So let’s talk.’

‘About what?’

Alice wrapped her arms around her body as if to contain the emotions threatening to burst out of her. What was with his blank expression? Didn’t he remember anything about last night? ‘About us. About the fact I love you and want to have a future with you. A family.’

His expression locked down, every muscle on his face freezing as if turned to marble. ‘I don’t think now’s the right time to talk about—’

‘When is the right time?’ Alice said. ‘We have two weeks until we get married. You told me last night we would discuss the fact we’ve been given a second chance at our relationship via your grandmother. So let’s discuss it. I’m not unwell now.’

He moved to the other side of the room, straightening objects on her dressing table that didn’t need straightening. His back was turned to her but she could see part of his reflection in the mirror. He was shutting her out. Withdrawing from her.

‘Can we talk about this some other time? I have a lot on my mind right now.’

Alice wasn’t going to be fobbed off. ‘If we don’t discuss it now, then I’m afraid I can’t marry you. It wouldn’t be right for me or for you.’

He turned from the dressing table, a flash of irritation firing off at the back of his gaze and a muscle leaping in his jaw. ‘What are you talking about? You stand to inherit millions out of this.’

She let out a frustrated breath. ‘Life isn’t just about money, Cristiano. It’s about much more than that. I don’t care about the money. Do you really think if I were motivated by money I would’ve rejected your proposal seven years ago?’

‘We’re not talking about back then, Alice.’ His voice was deep and steady but that muscle near his mouth was speeding up. ‘We’re talking about now. I’ve told you what I’m prepared to commit to and having a family is not even on the whiteboard.’

‘I want more than a temporary marriage,’ Alice said. ‘I want a proper one. I want a family. Last night when the doctor told me I wasn’t pregnant I realised how much I wished I were having a baby. But you don’t want a baby. You don’t want what I want at all.’

His eyes were obsidian black, the tension around his mouth making his lips appear white at the corners. ‘We agreed on the terms. You’re the one who’s been on a soapbox for years about how marriage is a domestic prison for women, and now you want the white picket fence and the double pram?’

Alice held his gaze with a resolve she hadn’t thought possible even minutes earlier. But she couldn’t back down now. Wouldn’t back down. He’d had plenty of opportunity to tell her he loved her but he hadn’t. Even if he said it now, how could she believe it wasn’t a ploy to make her agree to the terms of the will?

‘I want the fairy tale and I don’t want to settle for anything less than absolute commitment,’ she said. ‘I want my marriage to be for ever, not for six months.’

He stalked to the other side of the bedroom, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck as if something were burning him there. He swung back to face her, his expression going back to cold, hard marble. ‘I’m not going to parrot the words you think you want to hear. Why are you doing this—?’

‘I wouldn’t believe you if you said you loved me now,’ Alice said. ‘You’re completely focussed on getting those shares and keeping your grandmother’s villa in your family’s hand. That’s all you care about. You don’t care about me. I don’t think you ever did. You care about what you want—what I would do for you by being your wife. Our relationship has always been more about you than us as a unit, and if you were honest with yourself you’d admit it.’

‘Alice, listen to me.’ His voice softened but she got the sense his anger was not far away. ‘You’re still not well. You’re not thinking straight. You have too much to lose to throw this now. Just hop back into bed and I’ll—’

‘And you’ll what?’ Alice cast him a frosty glare. ‘Seduce me into seeing things your way? That’s what you always tried to do in the past. You never listened to me when we had a difference of opinion. You tried to solve everything with sex. But sex won’t solve this. I want more from you than great sex. Much, much more.’

He drew in a deep breath and released it in a whoosh. ‘So that’s it? Marriage or nothing?’

Alice gave him a wry look. ‘Your words, not mine, but they’ll do.’ She took off her engagement ring and handed it to him. ‘I think it’s best if we don’t see each other again.’

He ignored her outstretched palm, his mouth curling up at one corner. ‘Keep it. You can pawn it so you can set up your spa or throw it away for all I care.’

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Alice closed her hand around the ring, not one bit surprised when it cut into her palm as sharply as his words had into her heart. ‘You won’t ever be happy, Cristiano, because deep down you don’t think you deserve to be. You refuse to love someone in case they withdraw that love or fate takes it away from you.’