The Mediterranean Rebel's Bride

‘When was he ever reasonable about anything? Working, playing, eating, drinking, hussies—everything over the top.’

‘Surely his girlfriends aren’t all hussies?’

‘He doesn’t let me meet most of them. That’s how I know.’ Hope sighed fondly. ‘Evie, it’s such a pity you can’t split yourself in two—one for Justin and one for Ruggiero.’

‘Maybe I wouldn’t suit Ruggiero.’

‘You’re bound to. You’re as crazy about motorbikes as he is.’

‘Is it true that he actually owns a firm that makes them?’

‘Half-owns.’

‘Maybe I should go and talk to him,’ Evie said, laughing, and sauntered away.

It was later that evening when she caught up with Ruggiero. The guests had gone, and those family members who were staying at the villa had settled into small groups to enjoy a good natter. Justin was deep in conversation with his mother, and Evie found Ruggiero on the terrace, looking out over the lights of Naples gleaming against the darkness. With a sigh of relief she threw herself into a chair and kicked off her shoes.

‘Weddings are exhausting,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘And there’s another party tomorrow night. Mamma’s never happier than when planning a big get-together. I’m going to spend the day peacefully testing a bike.’

‘Ah, yes—tell me about your factory.’

He poured her a glass of wine, and sat on the low wall.

‘I found the place on its last legs a couple of years ago. I knew Piero Fantone—the owner—slightly, and I bought in. Things have gone well. Our bread and butter is the standard bikes that “normal” people buy, but the specials are the racing bikes that only the “crazies” want. We’ve started winning races. Now we’re bringing out a new racing bike, and I’m testing it tomorrow.’

‘The fastest, hottest, most fearsome bike in the country,’ Evie declaimed theatrically.

‘Do you mind?’ he said at once, in mock offence. ‘In the world.’

‘I’m sorry. But aren’t there professional testers? Does the boss have to risk his neck—?’ She broke off and struck her forehead. ‘Oh, of course! Stupid of me. You want to risk your neck. Otherwise, where’s the fun?’

‘You’ve got it.’ He grinned. ‘Evie, you’re the only woman I know who’d understand that. You should come and watch tomorrow.’

‘I’d love to.’ She sipped her wine and said mischievously, ‘People have been talking about you all day.’

‘I know. It’s a bachelor’s fate at a wedding.’ He assumed a twittery voice of the kind he’d heard so often that day. ‘“He’ll be next. Just wait and see.”’

‘Was that why you didn’t bring a date?’ she asked, chuckling.

‘One reason. My mother complains about the girls I bring home, and when I don’t bring one she complains even more.’

‘I gather they’re real eye-openers?’

He made a wry face, and she became serious to say, ‘I guess you’re a long way from finding what Carlo has.’

‘I think there are very few men who find what Carlo has. Or what you and Justin have.’

She was silent, watching him sympathetically.

After a while he added, ‘And thank you for not saying, Don’t worry, your turn will come.’’

‘Don’t you think it will?’ she asked, struck by the sudden quiet heaviness in his voice.

‘Maybe. Or maybe it came and went.’

Evie was silent, astonished. She had always sensed that there was more to her brother-in-law than the rough, hard-living man he was on the surface, but this was the first time he’d offered so much as a hint of a more reflective inner self.

Cautiously, so not to scare him off, she said, ‘Can you be sure that it’s gone finally?’

‘Quite sure. Since I know hardly anything about her. She was English, her name was Sapphire, and we had two weeks together. That’s all.’

But it wasn’t all, she could tell. During those weeks something had happened to him that had been like an earthquake.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked.

‘I met her in London about two-and-a-half years ago. I was visiting friends, but they suddenly had a family crisis, so I left them to it and explored London on my own. We met in the bar of my hotel. She was there to meet a friend who didn’t show up, we got talking and—that was it.’

‘What was she like?’

‘Like something from another world. So insubstantial that I was almost afraid to touch her. I knew her for two weeks, and then she vanished.’

‘Vanished? Where?’

‘I’ve no idea. I never saw her again. Perhaps she was nothing but a mad hallucination?’

Evie was astonished. Who would have thought the hardheaded Ruggiero could talk in this way? She wondered if he even realised what he’d revealed. He was looking into the distance, his eyes fixed on some inner world. She held her breath, willing him to go on.

But instead he made a sound that was part-grunt, part-nervous laugh, seeming to draw himself back from the brink.

‘Hey, what the hell?’ he said edgily. ‘These things happen. Easy come, easy go.’

‘But I don’t think it was easy,’ Evie urged. ‘I think she meant more to you than that.’

He shrugged. ‘It was a holiday romance. How much do they ever mean?’

‘Ruggiero—’

‘Do you want to come with me tomorrow or not?’

‘Yes, of course. But—’

‘Fine. Be ready to leave early in the morning.’

He bid her goodnight and hurried to his room, despising himself for making a cowardly escape, but unable to help it. Much more of that conversation and he would have gone mad.

He stripped off his clothes and got under the shower, hoping to wash away the day. But nothing could banish the thoughts that had troubled him from the moment he’d arrived at the church with Carlo.