Virgin On Her Wedding Night

‘Yes, it bloody well does!’ Valente raked back explosively, and thrust back the bedding to get up. ‘What’s got into you?’

A ferocious desire to wind him up, she might have admitted, had she been in a sympathetic mood-but she wasn’t. ‘You’re the one who told me not to bring sentiment into our marriage.’

‘There’s a fine line between candour and bad taste,’ he spelt out coolly.

‘Would it be bad taste for me to ask who the turquoise wrap at the Villa belonged to?’

His bold bronzed profile tensed. ‘Si, and inappropriate.’

‘Well, I thought it was tacky that the evidence of her occupation wasn’t removed before I arrived,’ Caroline traded.

‘Point taken,’ Valente breathed with sardonic bite. ‘May we now close the subject?’

Caroline slid out of bed. ‘I have packing to do.’

‘Your maid can take care of that-I need you to take care of me,’ Valente murmured huskily.

Caroline, already conscious of the slight ache of discomfort at the heart of her, thought that a repeat bout of lovemaking would be unwise. With a rueful smile she vanished into the bathroom, reflecting that Valente, with his high-voltage energy and powerful libido, would take a good deal of taking care of in the sex department, so it was hardly a source of surprise that women like the turquoise wrap lady featured in his life. Whether it was reasonable or otherwise, Caroline could not help wishing that he had never had a need for other women. She also hoped that, unlike Matthew, Valente did not suffer from an ongoing desire for sexual variety and fresh conquests to satisfy his ego. She was in a marriage where she could afford to take nothing for granted.

She used the rest of the day, with the help of the staff, to set up her workshop in an allocated room at the back of the house. She sorted out her stock, and checked her mail for the first time in a couple of weeks. The little ornamental cats she had once collected sparkled in their gorgeous jewel colours on the windowsill, and she began to wonder how she could design a new line of jewellery with Murano glass. It took her a couple of hours to package the orders from her website and organise their dispatch. It was a wrench to leave the workshop without making anything, for she loved the creative thrill of designing a new piece, but by then it was time for her to get changed for her flight.

Shortly before her departure, Valente discovered her in her workshop. He smiled at the cat ornaments, most of which he had given her, and lingered to take a keen look at the jewellery. He was very impressed, recognising the artistry and design in the well-crafted pieces. With a frown he switched off his mobile phone when it began its insistent ring.

‘You’re always so busy,’ she murmured tautly, tense at the prospect of leaving him, but thinking that with the long work hours he maintained she would hardly be missed.

‘I took almost a month off to be with you in Tuscany,’ he reminded her, framing her cheekbones with long graceful fingers, locking her in stasis by the simple act of focusing his brilliant dark eyes on her. ‘During that time I delegated, and blunders were made. This is pay-back time, belezza mia.’

Her eyes slid shut as he captured her mouth in an intoxicating kiss and suckled her swollen lips with devouring sensuality. Heat curled through her defenceless body, rousing a languorous throb of response in tender places. She couldn’t breathe for longing as he dipped his tongue in a moist sweep of her tender mouth.

‘Enough,’ Valente growled thickly, easing out onto the landing outside the room. Splaying a hand to her spine, he directed her down the magnificent staircase which gave access to his offices from the ground floor.

Her slender body all of a quiver, after that bone-melting kiss that had encouraged her to cling rather than walk away, Caroline negotiated the stairs slowly, for her legs felt as if they didn’t quite belong to the rest of her. There was a woman at the foot of the stairs-a gorgeous redhead with a luscious leggy figure revealed rather than concealed by the neat fit of the white linen dress she wore.

His lean, powerful frame tensing against Caroline’s, Valente turned to say something to his wife as they stepped down into the outrageously grand foyer. Before he could speak, however, the woman neatly stepped between the two of them. Kissing Valente on both cheeks, she addressed him in a flood of Italian before finally sparing a rather mocking glance in Caroline’s direction. ‘I’m Agnese Brunetti, an old friend of Valente’s. Dios mio! You are really tiny! Do you speak Italian?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘Of course Valente and I both speak to each other in Veneziano, the local dialect,’ Agnese shared, shooting Valente a rueful chummy smile. ‘We’re members of a very exclusive club. Every year there are fewer and fewer of us able to converse in the old way.’

Caroline was chilled to find herself looking up at the statuesque redhead. Matthew had betrayed her with other women too often for her to be anything other than suspicious of such a bold beauty. She knew instantly, in that strange way a woman could, that she was meeting the owner of the flamboyant silk robe left behind at the Tuscan villa. Still inconsequentially chattering in a mixture of what Caroline could only assume was Veneziano and English, Agnese touched Valente’s sleeve once and his lapel in a second, more lingering demonstration of physical ease, making no attempt to conceal her familiarity with him. On hyper-alert, Caroline picked up on the other woman’s every move and change of expression.

‘I’m sorry, but Caroline has a flight to catch,’ Valente breathed coolly, extracting them at speed from the encounter. He signalled one of his hovering staff and asked him to take Agnese Brunetti up to his office. ‘I’ll be with you shortly,’ he told her.

‘I’ve known Agnese for a long time,’ he added casually as he helped Caroline into the waiting motor launch tied up at the splendid front doors of the palazzo.

In a horizontal manner of speaking, Caroline affixed with an inner shudder of recoil. Agnese was his mistress. Past or present? All the way to the airport Caroline tormented herself with unwise comparisons. The beautiful redhead’s voluptuous curves had reminded her of Matthew’s preferences and made her feel inadequate. Suddenly it was a relief to be travelling back to England, to escape the pressure of her marriage and the humiliation of unrequited love and concentrate instead on her father’s health and her mother’s worries on the same issue.

Joe and Isabel Hales were still staying in a hotel, and Winterwood was in control of the builders, as work on both house and apartment proceeded at a rapid pace.

Having first inspected the impressive renovations taking place at Winterwood, Caroline checked into the same hotel as her parents and accompanied them to the hospital for her father’s admittance. Isabel was beside herself with concern that her husband might die on the operating table, and she needed her daughter to keep her calm.

Joe was in surgery for three hours, but the operation was pronounced a success. And, although her father was weak afterwards, within a few days Caroline could see his strength beginning to return. Valente had already had the brochures of several luxurious convalescent homes sent to Isabel, so that she could choose where she and her husband would stay after Joe was released from hospital. Once that move was made, Caroline began to feel rather superfluous to requirements.

Valente phoned her every day. She wanted to ask about Agnese, but was determined not to sound like some clingy, over-possessive wife, suspicious of every woman who came near her husband.

And yet, in truth, Caroline reckoned that she was. In a loveless marriage it was a challenge for Caroline to believe that one woman could be enough for Valente.

At the end of the second week, Valente flew over from Italy to visit her parents. When he arrived at the convalescent home he had two of his business team in tow, for he had had a couple of business calls to make locally. Joe was asking her husband eager questions about the future for Hales Transport when Caroline arrived and found him there. It amazed her to see how relaxed her parents had become with him. It was hard to believe that just five years earlier they had behaved as though he was Public Enemy Number One. But his generosity towards them, and his care during a time of crisis, had reassured the older couple and given him the status of a trusted family member.