The Mediterranean Rebel's Bride

‘But didn’t you make some protest?’

‘Why? I’m glad you’re being properly cared for.’

‘I guess she told you what to say,’ Ruggiero said with wry amusement. ‘You’re bullied—you know that?’

‘Oh, no,’ Toni said seriously. ‘Your mamma never bullies me. She knows what I need before I know myself, and she makes sure that I have it.’

‘There’s a difference?’

‘Yes,’ Toni said simply. ‘There’s a difference.’

Downstairs the table was spread with a banquet, and Polly found herself treated as an honoured guest. Hope ceremonially poured champagne, clinked glasses, and produced an envelope plump with euros.

‘But this is far too much,’ Polly gasped. ‘I can’t take it all.’

‘You are worth every penny,’ Hope declared. ‘Not only for what you are doing for us, but also because you have allowed us to take over your holiday without complaint.’

‘That’s all right,’ Polly said awkwardly. ‘It wasn’t really a holiday.’

‘Do you mean that you have to return to England soon? When are you due back at your job?’

‘I don’t have a job at the moment.’

‘Aha—then you are free to remain as long as you wish. Good. You will stay with us. Now, let us eat.’

Toni joined them after a while, with the news that Ruggiero was sleeping.

‘I’ll go back fairly soon,’ Polly said.

They made it hard for her—treating her like a queen, toasting her with champagne, encouraging her to talk about herself. That was a dangerous subject, and she had to be circumspect, but these were warm-hearted people, taking what they wanted with a charm that threatened to melt her heart.

As soon as possible she brought the conversation back to Ruggiero, explaining about his condition and how she could take care of it.

‘He’ll be fine if he can be persuaded to rest for a few days,’ she finished.

‘You can persuade him,’ Hope declared. ‘You have him eating out of your hand.’

Polly put her head on one side. ‘I try to picture him eating out of anyone’s hand,’ she said whimsically, ‘but it’s beyond me.’ As they laughed, she added, ‘Thank you for a lovely meal. Now I think I’ll go upstairs and crack the whip a little. Goodnight.’

She seated herself quietly beside Ruggiero’s bed, seeing with satisfaction that he was deeply, contentedly asleep. She waited beside him for a while, dozing gently herself, so that she didn’t notice when he awoke, and didn’t know that his eyes were open until he murmured, ‘Polly.’

‘Yes, I’m here. Is something the matter?’

‘Yes, in a way. I’m so sorry.’

‘Hey, you’ve already apologised.’

‘For being a jerk, but not for—’ He broke off, groaning, ‘I hit you, didn’t I? When you were by me on the track—I seem to remember—’

‘You sent me flying,’ she said lightly. ‘But it was an accident. You didn’t mean to do it. You were just flailing around blindly.’

‘I do a lot of that, I’m afraid.’