The Wedding Charade Read online

  ‘You will do as you are damn well told,’ he said heatedly. ‘I have decided to bring the wedding forward. I don’t trust you to be out of my sight for the rest of this month. You will move to my villa in Rome as soon as it can be arranged. We will be married early next week. I have already informed my family of the change of plan.’

  This time it was impossible for Jade to hide her panic.

  ‘I …I don’t want to do that …I have things to do here in London. I don’t want to leave before I’m ready.’

  ‘We do have hairdressers and nail technicians in Italy, you know,’ he said with a sarcastic bite. ‘We even have fashion designers.’

  She sent him a fulminating glare. ‘You can’t have everything your own way, Nic. I know you have for most of your life, but I am not going to be pushed around by you.’

  ‘I am sending a removal company for your things in the morning,’ he said. ‘The lawyer will be here in less than an hour. I have also organised a wedding planner to meet with you this evening. She will see to all details to do with the ceremony. We will travel together to Rome late tomorrow afternoon. I will send my driver to collect you. If you do not cooperate I will call the press and tell them the wedding is off.’

  ‘You won’t do that,’ Jade said with not as much confidence as it sounded.

  He held her gaze with steely intensity. ‘Don’t bet on it, Jade,’ he said. ‘I will do what I damn well please and you will obey without question.’

  Jade picked up a cushion from the sofa and threw it at him. It missed by a mile and bounced off the wall without even making a sound as it fell impotently to the floor. ‘I hate you,’ she said. ‘I really, really hate you.’

  He smiled coolly as he opened the door. ‘I hate you too; you have no idea how much.’

  She winced as he closed the door on his exit. And for the second time in twenty-four hours she felt tears prickle and burn at her eyes.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  LESS than an hour later a lawyer arrived with papers in hand, just as Nic had informed her. Jade went through all the motions: politely offering coffee or tea, providing a seat at the dining table so the papers could be spread out easily, all the while hoping her façade of understanding everything would not be shown up for what it was: total ignorance.

  ‘And if you will just sign here and here,’ the lawyer said, pointing out the sections that were highlighted.

  Jade scribbled her signature while inside cringing at how unsophisticated and childish it looked next to Nic’s where he had signed earlier. She studied the bold strokes of his name; the confidence and assurance she always associated with him were there in every twist and turn of his pen.

  Not long after the lawyer left a woman arrived, announcing herself as the wedding planner. Jade allowed herself to be swept up in the momentum of confirming all the appointments: the fitting of a dress at a designer studio once she got to Rome, a visit to the jewellers’ where she would be fitted with an astonishingly expensive engagement and wedding ring ensemble that had already been chosen on her behalf, as well as a visit to a high street florist where the flowers for the church and the wedding bouquet would be chosen, ready to be flown to the church in Bellagio by private jet.

  It was all done with the efficiency of clockwork but inside Jade was secretly worrying about the year ahead. She could look and dress the part of the happy bride but she was not the bride of Nic’s choice.

  They were both marrying under sufferance; it was a chore—it was a time line they both had to endure to get what they wanted.

  Jade tried not to think of the romantic fantasies she had conjured up in the past. That was a long time ago and this was here and now. This was a cold, hard business deal, a transaction with financial rewards to be gained. It was not about love or mutual goals. It was about Nic Sabbatini inheriting what was rightfully his. She was the pathway for him to do that and he was hers. She was nothing to him but a means to an end and she would be a silly fool to think otherwise.

  A courier arrived early the next morning and delivered a high-tech mobile phone to her apartment. He assured her it was already charged and ready to use. Jade signed for it and, after a long period of hesitation, she unpacked it from its packaging, not for the first time feeling all alone in the world, with no one to understand how desperately vulnerable she felt. She put it away in her handbag and got on with the rest of her packing in preparation for the move to Rome. The removal men arrived and took everything out of her flat. She hovered about as her paintings were being loaded, worried they would be damaged, but the men seemed to know what they were doing and covered everything in bubble wrap.

  Nic called just before lunch to say he had to fly out of London for the rest of the week to sort out a property deal in Rio de Janeiro and she would have to go to Rome without him. ‘I’m sorry about the short notice,’ he said. ‘But no doubt you’ll have plenty to do preparing for the wedding.’

  ‘I’m surprised you aren’t insisting I accompany you,’ Jade said somewhat waspishly, ‘or is it because you have some unfinished business to do in the bedroom rather than the boardroom?’

  ‘I thought you said you didn’t read the gossip in the papers?’ he said.

  Jade ground her teeth, imagining him with the long-legged, exotic Brazilian model, having a last fling before their marriage. The trouble was, it would very probably not be his last. A man like Nic would not stay true to fake marriage vows; he would have trouble staying true to real ones.

  ‘And I also thought you said I could do what I liked as long as I was discreet about it,’ Nic added when she didn’t respond.

  Jade unlocked her tight jaw. ‘Do what you like. I can’t stop you. According to the lawyer you sent around, you’ve got your back well and truly covered.’

  ‘Ah, so the prenuptial is a sticking point, is it?’ Nic said.

  ‘Do you really think I want half of everything you own?’ Jade said. ‘I just want what Salvatore wanted me to have.’

  ‘Divorces can get pretty ugly, Jade,’ he said. ‘I am not prepared to risk all that my grandfather and father and two older brothers worked so hard for when we part company in a year’s time. Don’t take it personally. It’s just sound business sense to protect one’s assets.’

  Jade knew what he said was true, and to some degree it was her own fault for encouraging his opinion of her as an empty-headed, gold-digging socialite.

  ‘Did you get the mobile?’ he asked after a tense pause. ‘I tried calling you on it earlier but the message service said it was switched off. I made sure it was charged before it was delivered. Have you turned it off or something?’

  Jade swallowed and looked in the direction of her handbag. ‘Um …I haven’t had time to answer it with all the packing I’ve been doing.’

  ‘I have people organised to do that for you,’ he said. ‘Why are you doing it yourself?’

  ‘I don’t like strangers touching my things,’ she said, turning her back on the accusing presence of her handbag.

  There was another little silence.

  ‘I probably won’t see you until the day of the wedding,’ he said. ‘My business is taking longer than I expected. I have organised a private jet to take you to Rome. My driver will pick you up and take you to the airport. You will be driven to my villa and my housekeeper, Guilia, will help you settle in. The wedding planner will see to everything and will be in contact with you over the last-minute things. Your flat will be packed up and the keys handed back to your father. He has someone who wants to rent it as of next week.’

  ‘Is he coming to the wedding?’ Jade asked.

  ‘Yes, he said he was looking forward to giving you away.’

  Yes, well, it wouldn’t be the first time, Jade thought bitterly.

  Jade arrived, just as Nic had arranged, at his villa in Rome. It had been a relief to have someone see to all the travelling arrangements for once. She normally had to engage the services of a travel agent, which was always stressful as she had to memorise everyt
hing as the documents they handed to her in a file were useless. She envied everyone who could book things online. They didn’t have to commit everything to memory and then worry incessantly in case they forgot a date or a time or an address. Visiting new places was an absolute nightmare for her. She had got lost so many times and felt so foolish when asking for directions, only to find she was just a street or a block away.

  Rome was a place she was familiar with, so was Milan, but Bellagio was going to be a challenge; she hoped if she stayed close to the Sabbatini villa she wouldn’t go far wrong. However, if Nic was really serious about taking her with him on all his trips abroad she would have to think of some way of coping. She couldn’t wander around like a normal tourist, reading maps and street names. She would have to stay in the hotel and fill in the time rather than risk exposing her defect. She would rather die than have Nic know she was severely dyslexic. No one knew. It was her shameful little secret.

  The housekeeper at Nic’s villa was austere and unwelcoming right from the moment Jade stepped through the imposing front door. Guilia Rossetti gave Jade an up and down look that would have stripped a century of wallpaper from a wall. ‘So this is Nicolò’s future bride,’ she said, making a guttural sound of disgust in her throat. ‘He could have done much better. I read all about you. You’re not worthy of the Sabbatini name. You will bring nothing but harm and shame to him and to the family, I am sure of it.’

  Jade straightened her spine and stared down the dark-eyed Italian. ‘If you want to keep working for my future husband, then I would advise you to keep your opinions to yourself.’

  Jade pointed to the bags the driver had placed at the foot of the stairs. ‘You can unpack for me and then I would like a gin and tonic brought up to my room, ready and waiting for me after my shower,’ she said in a haughty tone.

  The housekeeper’s eyes were like black diamonds, beady and full of loathing. ‘Sì, signorina, ‘ she said through gritted teeth and bent to snatch up the bags.

  Jade tossed her hair over her shoulder and wandered through the villa. It was a glorious place, beautifully decorated with gold and marble, signalling the wealth Nic and his brothers had grown up with and most probably taken for granted, just as she had done until her supply of money had been stopped. She pushed the irritating thought aside and looked at the artwork on the walls, some of which she recognised from some of her favourite masters.

  The villa was three storeys high and overlooked wonderful gardens, complete with a lap pool and jacuzzi and a tennis court. Jade walked out through a set of doors into the bright April sunshine. The water of the pool sparkled and a light breeze crinkled the surface. The lawn was a verdant expanse of green, lush and with that delicious fresh fragrance of having just been mown. A white wisteria was hanging in a scented arras from a stone wall, the hum of bees as they collected the sweet pollen filling the air. Roses were everywhere and in every shade imaginable: pinks and whites and whites blushed with pink, deep blood-red ones, mauve and yellow and apricot. The fragrance collectively was heady and intoxicating and she breathed deeply to take it in.

  She walked a little farther and sat on a stone bench overlooking a fountain that had a marble Cupid figure pouring water from a pitcher which then overflowed to the base of the fountain. It was a peaceful, tranquil sound: the gentle splashing of water over centuries-old marble. The urge to paint the scene was overwhelming but she had to restrain herself as her things were still in boxes waiting to be unpacked.

  When she went back inside the housekeeper was coming down the stairs. She gave Jade a caustic look. ‘I have put your things in the yellow room,’ she said. ‘After the honeymoon I will move them into Signor Sabbatini’s suite, but not before.’

  Jade suddenly decided she would sleep in Nic’s bed just to annoy the housekeeper. It wouldn’t matter because Nic had already told her he wouldn’t be back in Rome before the wedding and would meet her at the church in Bellagio. ‘I am afraid you will have to do so for I am intending to sleep in my fiancé’s bed,’ she said with a don’t-dare-to-disobey-me air.

  The housekeeper muttered something in Italian before she stalked off, her footsteps clacking with anger across the marble floor.

  Jade let out a breath and walked up the grand staircase, her footsteps muffled as they trod on the priceless stair runner held in place by solid brass bars at the back of each step.

  She found Nic’s room without any trouble. It was just as she had imagined it would be. It was huge, as was the bed, and it was decorated in brown and cream with a touch of black in the lamps and bedside tables, giving it an unmistakably masculine feel. The en suite bathroom was as big as her London flat’s bedroom and it followed the same gold and marble theme of the rest of the villa.

  The shower was refreshing but she couldn’t help thinking of Nic’s naked body standing right where she was standing. Her mind pictured him with the water cascading over him, over his chest and ridged abdomen, down his hair-roughened flanks and over his taut buttocks and the proud male heart of him. Her breath caught in her throat and she quickly turned off the water and reached for one of the big fluffy towels that was as big as a sheet.

  When Jade came back into Nic’s bedroom it was obvious the housekeeper had failed to bring her things through. She drew in an angry breath and stalked out to the landing. ‘Guilia?’ Her voice echoed through the villa. ‘Will you come up here immediately and do as I asked you to do? ‘

  There was no response.

  Jade stormed to the yellow room and, dropping her wet towel on the floor, rummaged through the wardrobe for something to wear. She didn’t bother drying her hair but left it loose to dry naturally. She didn’t bother with make-up either. She never did if she wasn’t expecting anyone to be around or she wasn’t going out.

  There was no sign of the housekeeper downstairs, although Jade did see a note propped up against the kettle. She looked at it, wondering what the housekeeper had written. The handwriting looked as if it had been done quickly and crossly, but if it was in Italian or English, she couldn’t quite tell. She scrunched it into a ball and left it on the bench.

  She filled in the rest of the evening by sorting some of her paints and sketchbook into a smaller bag to take with her to Bellagio. She had seen enough travel shows to know how picturesque the Italian lakes district was. It was the one part of her honeymoon—such as it was—she was looking forward to.

  After a light supper of chicken and salad she had found in the fridge, she made her way back upstairs to bed. The villa was scarily empty. There was no sound apart from the ticking of an ormolu clock on a French lacquered table on the second landing.

  She slipped out of her jeans and loose-fitting top, her bra and knickers adding to the pile on the floor. The sheets were smooth and cool and fresh and, within seconds of putting her head down on the feather pillows, she felt her eyelids going down as if weighted by anvils.

  Jade stretched out a leg and froze. Her eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she asked as Nic opened one sleepy eye from right beside her.

  He propped himself up on one elbow. ‘Where else would I be?’ he asked. ‘This is my bed.’

  ‘I …I know but you’re not supposed to be here now! ‘ she said, pulling her legs out of the reach of his long, strong hairy ones.

  He sat up in the bed, the sheet that had been covering him slipping to just below his navel. Jade saw the dark masculine hair that arrowed down beneath the sheet and her stomach did a jerky little somersault. He was as naked as she was. She could practically see the outline of his maleness.

  ‘I came back by private jet after I got a call from my housekeeper,’ he said. ‘She refuses to work for me while you are in residence. What on earth did you say to her?’

  Jade pushed her lips out in a pout. ‘She was awful to me from the moment I stepped in the door. She refused to do what I asked and she called me horrible names.’

  Nic pushed back the sheet and rose from the bed. Jade
swallowed as she saw the masculine perfection of his body. He was so toned and taut, so powerfully male in every plane and contour.

  He slipped on a lightweight bathrobe and tied the ends around his waist as he looked down at her in the bed. ‘This has to stop, Jade. You can’t act like this. Don’t you understand? You have to take responsibility for your actions.’

  ‘My actions?’ she said indignantly. ‘What about hers? She’s your employee so she should have more respect. It shouldn’t matter who you marry. She should accept your future bride without question or snide and insulting comments.’

  ‘I am afraid there are times in life when you have to earn respect,’ Nic said. ‘It doesn’t come automatically just because of whom you are married to or how much you earn or where you were born.’

  She gave him a mutinous scowl. ‘I am not going to kowtow to the cleaning staff just so they’ll be nice to me. I will do what I want.’

  Nic grasped the end of the sheet and ripped it from the bed. He smiled at her shocked expression. She looked like an outraged virgin about to be ravaged by a devilish suitor. ‘Do I have to teach you some manners myself, my naughty little wife-to-be?’ he asked as he tugged her down by one ankle until she was lying between his open thighs as he stood at the end of the bed.

  Her slim throat rose and fell and her breasts, which she had so brazenly flashed at him only days ago, she was now struggling to cover with her hands. Her cheeks were stained a delicate shade of pink and her eyes were wide and uncertain, their long dark lashes giving her a Bambi look that was totally captivating. ‘Wh… what do you think you’re doing?’ she asked in a high-pitched strained sort of voice.

  ‘I thought I might try the goods before I buy since they are right here in my bed for my pleasure,’ he said, stroking his hand up the smooth length of her leg from ankle to calf. ‘That was your intention, wasn’t it? To get my attention? Well, you got it, baby. I am here and I am all yours.’