So surprised her voice came out in a squeak, she managed to say, ‘No, I wasn’t quite asleep,’ and she wished with all her heart she was wearing an alluring feminine nightie rather than her sensible cotton pyjamas dotted with fat little teddy bears. She must look like a schoolgirl.
‘In view of your concern for Sophia I thought you might still be awake.’ His voice was soft, but he didn’t move from his position some feet away. ‘I wanted to reassure you that Santo has left the house intact. Just,’ he added darkly.
‘They came to see you? I didn’t hear them,’ she said guilelessly, before blushing as she realised she’d given away her desire to eavesdrop. Great spy she’d make.
If he’d noticed, he didn’t comment. ‘There is to be a meeting of the two families tomorrow, but that is not what I came to tell you.’ He levered himself off the wall and came closer, and it was all she could do not to step back a pace. ‘Sophia wishes you to stay for a while.’ His eyes were black in the shadows, his handsome face without expression. ‘There is a great deal to arrange very quickly if she is going to marry Santo before her condition becomes obvious, and the enormity of it has overwhelmed her. She has no mother or sister, no female confidante, and at such a time…’ He shrugged. ‘She does not have the rapport with my housekeeper, and in the matter of shopping for a wedding dress, a trousseau…’
Shock rendered her speechless for a moment. Swallowing hard, she looked at him wide-eyed. ‘But she must have friends? And didn’t you say there is a grandmother?’
‘Our grandmother is ninety years old,’ he said drily, ‘and, whilst she would not thank me for saying so, arrangements of this kind would be beyond her. As for friends—’ again the shrug ‘—Sophia wants you. I understand she is to put the request to you tomorrow morning, but I felt it only fair that you have some time to consider such an undertaking. I am very aware this is your holiday, but your remark about being sisters under the skin…’
Again his voice died away, but this time Cherry peered at him more closely. If she wasn’t mistaken, her soft heart was being played on here. ‘But…’ She paused, hopelessly out of her depth. ‘Sophia doesn’t know me.’ The suggestion was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, so why was she considering it for even a second?
He shifted position slightly and every nerve in her body responded. ‘Do you not think that sometimes you can know more about someone in five minutes than five years with someone else?’ he murmured very, very gently.
He was so close now the warm fragrance of the aftershave she’d smelt earlier was teasing her senses. ‘I’m—I’m not even Italian,’ she protested, as though that was news to him.
He brushed aside the feeble prevarication. ‘That is of no importance. Sophia knows what will be required. You would merely provide a helping hand, listen to any problems and support her—even lend a shoulder to cry on if necessary. I understand women can get very emotional at such an important time, and in view of her condition it is best she is kept as calm as possible, si? But of course the decision is yours.’
She stared at him. This man was sex on legs, and if she wasn’t careful she could find herself in a whole heap of trouble here—a case of out of Liam’s frying pan and into Vittorio’s fire. Because one thing was certain. Vittorio Carella could have any woman he wanted with a click of his aristocratic fingers, and if—if—he was of a mind to dally a little with her, it wouldn’t mean a thing to him.
Of course she could be completely on the wrong track. Nevertheless… ‘I don’t think—’
‘Do not make your decision now, Cherry.’ He straightened, and her stomach muscles clenched. ‘Sleep on it. Isn’t that what you English say?’
‘Vittorio—’
‘And do not be influenced by the fact that Sophia is all alone at such a time,’ he continued, with what Cherry considered shameless manipulation. ‘She will manage. Somehow.’
From breathing fire and damnation he had done a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, hadn’t he? Forcing herself to ignore the tantalising glimpse of dark body hair where the first couple of buttons of his shirt were undone, she said, ‘Do I take it you are prepared to give Sophia and Santo your blessing?’
The firm mouth hardened for a moment. ‘Blessing is stretching my benevolence somewhat. But…’ He hesitated. ‘I do not want to lose her. Or, as you pointed out, my nephew or niece. Santo…’ again he hesitated ‘… is not strong enough for her. Sophia is a Carella. She is obstinate and headstrong and sure she is always right. These qualities have taken the males in my family to a position of wealth and power, but Sophia is a woman. She must see Santo as the head of the family or the marriage will not be happy.’
Cherry reared up as though she’d been bitten. ‘Excuse me?’ she said hotly. ‘You aren’t seriously saying that Sophia has to treat Santo as her lord and master once they’re married, are you?’
Vittorio surveyed her coolly. ‘I am saying that I would have preferred Sophia to make a match that is more equal. A man has to know how to handle someone like Sophia, and I am not sure yet that Santo can.’
‘They love each other. Surely that is all that matters in the long run? They’ll sort out their relationship in their own way.’ She glared at him. ‘It might not be exactly how you think it should be, but you could actually be wrong, you know.’
‘My, my, my.’ His voice was soft, silky, but with an edge to it. ‘Is this one of the things you are passionate about, mia piccola? Along with animals, reading, and eating out with friends, of course.’
Sarcastic swine. Refusing to be drawn, she took a deep breath and told herself to calm down. ‘I believe men and women are equal, if that’s what you are asking.’
‘This is good. I, too, think this.’
‘You?’ How could he have the nerve to say that?
‘But of course. The sexes are different—different needs, different strengths and weaknesses—but in a perfect union the two fit together as one and complement the whole. Each has their role to play.’
Cherry stared at him suspiciously. ‘You said Sophia should regard Santo as the head; that’s not equality.’
‘I disagree.’ He propped one arm against the doorpost, his fingers splayed next to her head.
His rich masculine fragrance invaded her space and caused her nerves to jolt, even as she told herself to keep perfectly still and composed.
‘Santo will love and honour Sophia and put her before anyone, even their children, and Sophia will respect and support him in his role of husband and father and understand that the responsibility for taking care of her and their family can be a heavy one. That is how it should be.’ His voice dropped an octave and he bent a little closer. ‘You think differently?’
She was having a job to think at all. His close proximity was intoxicating. He wasn’t touching her with any part of himself and yet she was melting. Somehow she managed to keep her voice from shaking when she said, skirting his question, ‘Some couples both work at responsible jobs and bring an equal amount of money into the household. There’s no “head” as such.’