The Italians: Angelo, Rocco & Stefano: Wife in the Shadows / A Dangerous Infatuation / The Italian's Blushing Gardener

But, she told herself in silent defiance, if he thought the question of Avortino had been settled, he was entirely wrong. When this so-called marriage was concluded, she would need to work, having no plans to accept the proposed settlement however generous.

When it’s over, I want it to be over, she thought. Which does not include being under any kind of obligation to him, legal, financial or otherwise.

However, she had not anticipated that Casa Bianca would prove yet another bone of contention.

The Principessa had mentioned it casually over dinner one night. ‘Your little seaside retreat, Elena. What will happen to that when you are married?’

Ellie hesitated, uncomfortably aware that Angelo, who had been talking to the Prince, had turned his head and was looking at her, brows raised in enquiry.

He said softly, ‘A retreat for a new wife. That sounds a little alarming, mia cara. Also unnecessary. What is this place, and where?’

Ellie met his gaze, concealing her unease at the challenge in his voice. ‘My grandmother left me a little cottage at the coast in a place called Porto Vecchio.’ She added coolly, ‘It’s only a small fishing village, and not a bit fashionable, so I don’t suppose you’ve heard of it.’

‘No, but I have learned of it now, and the fact that you own a house there, which I was also unaware of.’ He paused. ‘It must involve you in considerable expense. I therefore presume you will wish to sell it?’

‘On the contrary,’ said Ellie. ‘I have no intention of parting with it, although I may possibly rent it out in the holiday season.’ When hell freezes over.

Angelo inclined his head courteously. ‘All that is something we will naturally have to discuss.’

Ellie widened her eyes into a limpid stare. Allowed her voice a note of amusement. ‘But, mio caro, what is there to talk about, when my decision has already been made?’

Besides, she added silently, Roman dictators went out with Julius Caesar, or hadn’t you heard?

But the set of Angelo’s jaw as he turned his attention back to the plate of osso buco in front of him, coupled with a long, thoughtful look from Contessa Cosima, warned her that she had probably not heard the last on the subject.

However, there was no way she was giving up the cottage, she vowed inwardly, no matter what objections her reluctant husband might have to her possession of it. It was her own special place and it meant too much—held too many memories to be abandoned on his say-so.

Nonna Vittoria had left a sum of money to cover immediate maintenance costs and local taxes, but this, of course, would not last forever. And as Ellie had no intention of asking Count Manzini for a cent towards Casa Bianca’s upkeep, retaining her job and its salary was becoming even more essential, she thought grimly.

But lying sleepless that night, an idea came to her that could solve that particular problem, although its accomplishment would probably not sweeten Angelo’s temper.

On the other hand, there went a man far too used to getting his own way—especially with women. Maybe it was time he got his comeuppance, even in a minor way.

There was a room at Vostranto, not large but with good light, and not currently being used for very much, although there was a small kneehole desk under the window which, Ellie had been told, was where Count Angelo’s late mother had written her correspondence and overseen the household accounts.

But if her laptop was installed there, she’d be able to receive translation work from Avortino by email, and return it, completed, by the same method. So commuting would not be necessary, and if she continued to use her maiden name for professional purposes, no-one need ever know that the new Contessa Manzini was gainfully employed, with or without her husband’s goodwill.

She would need Assunta’s help, but her instinctive response to Vostranto and the spell it had worked on her seemed to have established her firmly in the housekeeper’s good books, so she did not foresee major problems from that direction at least.

Or, she reflected, turning over and punching her pillow into shape, just as long as there weren’t too many references to the nursery accommodation on the second floor, also unoccupied.

But a week later, with the toasts drunk, the wedding cake distributed and the alien gold of Angelo’s ring gleaming on her hand, Ellie was no longer so confident about winning the necessary concessions. After all, she reminded herself, she had basically been hired to do a job, so her status at Vostranto would be little more than that of an employee. And as she drove with her husband to her new home, this time without the chauffeur’s presence, she could feel her inner tensions building again.

Glancing sideways, she saw that the tanned face with its sculpted mouth looked strangely austere, and realised he too must have reservations about the immediate future, and the sterile bargain it contained.

But it was all his own doing, she reminded herself stonily. I was just caught up in the subsequent storm. So whatever regrets he’s having, he fully deserves.

And Silvia, of course, had got off scot-free as she’d done so many times in childhood when retribution threatened, proving that there was no justice. But Ernesto seemed to be keeping a close eye on her, so perhaps her wings had been clipped.

‘Is something wrong?’ Angelo asked suddenly, and she jumped.

‘No. Why do you ask?’

‘You seem a little restless.’

‘Recent events,’ she said, ‘are hardly conducive to calm.’

There was a silence, then he said, ‘I do not know what else I can say to assure you …’

‘That I am of no interest to you?’ Ellie lifted her chin. ‘Believe me, signore, that is probably the least of my concerns.’

‘Then what troubles you?’

She took a breath. ‘There’s something I have to tell you. I’ve decided to go on working—but from home—your home—from Vostranto.’

‘How do you propose to do so?’ His tone was not encouraging.

‘By email. I—I’ve had a room your mother once used fixed up as an office.’ She paused. ‘It won’t disturb you or get in the way of the household duties that seem so important to you. I’ll work all the hours I need to for that. However, you must see that I need my career and my future.’

‘You do not trust me to support you adequately?’ He rapped the question at her.

‘Yes—for the time being.’ She swallowed. ‘But try to understand that I also value my independence. Which will last a great deal longer than this—pretend marriage.’

He said something under his breath. Then: ‘And you did not think to consult me before putting these arrangements—in place?’

‘I thought of it—yes.’ She stared rigidly ahead through the windscreen. ‘But I decided I knew what you would say. And if you now countermand my instructions, then your staff will know that—as well as everything else—my wishes do not matter to you, which will make it difficult for me to gain their respect, and run Vostranto as efficiently as you seem to wish.’

There was another silence, then he said softly, ‘I see I have underestimated you, Elena. On this occasion, I shall allow your orders to stand. But make sure—make very sure—that you do not underestimate me. I am still the master of Vostranto.’

‘Of the house—yes.’ Her heart was thudding wildly. ‘But you’re not my master, Count Manzini, and you never will be.’

He jerked the wheel suddenly, and Ellie cried out as the car veered to the side of the road, coming to rest on the grass verge.

‘You like to challenge me, it seems, mia bella.’ His voice bit. ‘But you have done so once too often.’

He reached for her almost negligently, pulling her hard into his arms. His mouth was hard too, and sensually explicit, inflicting a kiss without mercy which left the softness of her lips bruised and burning when at last he raised his head.

His gaze was mocking, cynical, as he looked down at her.

‘So, now you know, Elena, what it means to make me angry. You would be well advised not to risk it again. Capisce?’

She said in a voice she did not recognise, ‘I—I understand.’ And did not speak again for the remainder of the journey.

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_230d72bb-cfed-5b63-9478-b211912854ff)

ELLIE STOOD, her arms wrapped almost protectively across her body, in the middle of the room she would now have to learn to call hers. Which made it, she thought, swallowing, no less imposing. Or daunting.

Besides being the only place in the house where she still felt like a stranger—an interloper.