An Inconvenient Love (Crimson Romance) (3 page)

“A self-made man, then. Your mother must be very happy. Do you have siblings?”

“No, I’m an only child. What about you? Do you come from a large family?”

She averted her gaze, staring over his left shoulder. “Yes, although I don’t see them often. My younger brother has just finished school, and I’m trying to help him pay to go to a technical college. So why did you come to London? Was it only to meet with Mr. Bodman?”

The animation had gone from her eyes at the mention of her family, so he followed her lead in changing the topic of conversation. He sensed there was more to her quick change of subject, but for his present purposes, it would be easier to convince her to come to Italy if she weren’t attached to her family in the UK.

The server was clearing their dinner plates when there was a commotion at the top of the stairs. Bright flashes of light were accompanied by calls of “Kate, Kate, look this way,” drowning out the buzz of background conversations. Sophia swiveled to see what was happening and sucked in a loud breath as a woman in a short metallic dress and high heels descended.

“Excuse me,” Sophia said before thrusting her chair back and hurrying from the table.

Luca half stood, not sure whether to follow her or wait for her return. She’d turned white and knocked over her water glass as she’d fled. The waiter mopped up the spill and quickly changed the linens on the table. By the time Sophia returned, all traces of her rushed departure had disappeared. Except she was still unnaturally pale and her eyes darted around the restaurant as if mapping out all the escape routes.

“I’m so sorry, Luca. But I have to leave. Thank you for a lovely dinner. I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me again.” There was a nervous note to her voice, and she sat on the edge of her seat.

“Sophia, what is wrong? Are you ill?”

“No. It’s … I don’t want to be in the same room as that woman.”

“What woman?” He glanced around.

“The one who arrived a few minutes ago with the photographers in tow.”

“You know her?”

“Yes.”

He waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “And?”

“And it’s not something I wish to discuss. She is part of my past, and I have no desire to revisit it.” Her voice was rough and her eyes icy.

He studied her face. There was much more to this woman than surface beauty. “I do want to see you again. Here is my business card. Call me on my mobile and we can meet again tomorrow. Perhaps spend the day together?” As he passed her his card he held her hand for a moment, shocked to find it so cold. Another shiver wracked her body, but he suspected it was from repressing her emotions rather than any awareness of his touch.

“I’m working tomorrow. The best I can do is meet you for dinner again.”

“Then dinner it is,” he replied.

She nodded, then grabbed her bag and scrambled up the stairs, not once looking back.

Even the little voice in his head was silent for once.

• • •

Saturday dawned gray and wet. Sophia woke up lethargic. She’d had a second sleepless night, going over the previous day in her mind. She wouldn’t be surprised if Luca changed his mind about marrying her after her bizarre departure. For a few hours yesterday, she’d actually believed she was going to escape her past. Then it had come waltzing down the stairs with the paparazzi in the background.

Might as well get the rejection over with. She pulled out Luca’s business card and sent him a text. That way he wouldn’t have to disguise the relief in his voice when he would undoubtedly tell her he’d been called back to Italy before their meeting this evening.

Her phone binged almost immediately. A ripple of surprise flowed through her as she read his reply. He still wanted to see her and asked her to choose a restaurant where they could meet. With a smile, she texted back the address for the Thai restaurant down the street. He might as well discover now she wasn’t a fine dining kind of woman. On the rare occasions she did eat out, it was cheap and cheerful. No pretension. If that didn’t put him off, then maybe she’d consider his proposal. Best of all, there was no chance Kathy Summers, or Kate as she called herself now, would set one ridiculously shod foot in the door.

But first, she still had to get through today. She put on her uniform and trudged the ten blocks to the supermarket where she worked as a cashier on weekends and some evenings. She hated the job, but it helped pay the rent and kept her fed. Helping her brother through college and trying to earn her own degree in interior design had decimated her paltry savings. She was back to square one, living paycheck to paycheck. Maybe that was why she was even considering Luca’s offer; it would solve all her financial worries.
Does it count as gold digging if I never actually picked up the shovel?

Toward the end of her shift, a young mother with a baby and a toddler stood patiently in her check-out queue. The little girl, about three years old, held a huge red apple in both hands and looked up hopefully at her mother. Sophia rang through the meager groceries: three tins of no-name brand baked beans, the cheapest loaf of bread the store sold, and some sausages with a “sell by today” clearance sticker.

“That’s a lovely apple. Can I weigh it?”

Sophia put her hand out and the little girl passed the fruit as if handing her a precious possession.

“Wow, it’s huge. Are you going to eat it all yourself?”

The little girl shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing about her face. “I’m gonna share it with Mummy. Georgie can’t have any ’cause he doesn’t have any teeth.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind.” Sophia turned to the young mother. “Two pounds and eighty-three pence, please.” She saw the mother close her eyes for a moment, then look at her daughter and shake her head. The mother picked up the apple and handed it back to Sophia before passing over the two pounds and fifty pence she’d been clutching in her fist. The child’s chin dropped to her chest, but she didn’t utter a word.

“Please, allow me,” Sophia said softly, adding the apple to the mother’s shopping bag. She’d put the extra coins in the till from her own purse. The little girl’s face lit up when she saw the apple go in the grocery bag. Sophia wiped a small tear from her eye as the family left the store.

Exhausted at 6:00
p.m.
, she returned home, wanting only to cook a jacket potato, curl up on her chair, and read the Penny Vincenzi book she’d taken out of the library. The incident with the mother and two children had disturbed her, bringing back memories of her own childhood. The nights she’d gone to bed hungry. The embarrassment of standing in line for the free breakfast at school, while her friends who ate at home stared at her through the window. And the teasing from her classmates about her second-hand uniforms. She couldn’t bear to put her future children through that.

It wasn’t as if she were holding out for love. Her parents had been in love when they married and lived a miserable existence afterward. In her experience, marrying for love didn’t always equal happiness. But she also didn’t want to end up like her aunt, alone with no family, despising everyone else’s relationships, secretly wishing she had someone to call her own.

Heading out the door again twenty minutes later, she felt like she was approaching a precipice. Whether she’d fall in, or make it safely across, was anybody’s guess.

• • •

Sophia sat against the back wall of the Thai restaurant, her eyes trained on the door. She’d deliberately come early, wanting to see Luca’s face when he arrived. If he turned up his nose at the quaint, family-run restaurant, then she’d know she couldn’t marry him. There was no way she could live with a snob. It was bad enough when she had to deal with them at work.

While she waited, she inhaled the smell of lemongrass and curry—the scent of adventure. For a girl who’d never traveled more than twenty miles from where she was born, eating ethnic food was as close to a foreign holiday as she’d ever got. If she married Luca, though …

As if conjured by her thoughts, Luca strode through the door. He’d replaced the expensive suit with a pair of chocolate brown trousers and a cream button down shirt. But the change of attire hadn’t diminished the sense of power he still exuded. He glanced around the tiny space, no hint of derision or condescension in his expression. When he spotted her, a smile lit his face and he strode toward her. An answering smile lifted her lips.

The hostess rushed over and handed him a plastic-coated menu which had seen better days. Despite its slightly sticky nature, he held it firmly, perusing the items as carefully as he had last night at the posh restaurant.

They ordered a selection of dishes to share and he regaled her with stories of life in Italy as they ate. Luca was attentive, ignoring his phone she could hear buzzing in his pocket from time to time. When the flustered waitress nearly dropped his plate, he simply smiled and whispered words of encouragement, wiping a splash of curry sauce from his sleeve without a second glance at the stain it had left.

It wasn’t until dessert that he once again broached the subject of marriage. He leaned back and put his arm across the chair next to him. The casual pose belied the intensity in his eyes.

“I like you, Sophia. I enjoy spending time with you. I believe we could have a successful marriage. I will state up front that I do want children, although I am willing to wait a few years if that suits you better. I see this as a lifelong partnership. My parents’ marriage was based on respect and agreeable companionship, and they were together for twenty years until my father died.”

Her brain froze at the mention of children. She, too, wanted a family, but she hadn’t stopped to consider their actual creation. The heat of Luca’s gaze set off an avalanche of sensations along her skin, a tingling so physical she ran her hands up and down her arms. But having sex with someone would mean they’d discover her scars, which would lead to questions. Questions she never wanted to answer but knew she’d have to … one day.

“Couldn’t I just come and work for you first? Then once we know each other better, we could get married.” Even her own ears could hear the crumbling resistance in her words.

Luca leaned forward and took her hand in his, sending her pulse rate into the triple digits. “That would not be appropriate. My peers may question my integrity if I were seen dating one of my employees. And my villa is in a very small village; old-fashioned ideas still prevail. For you to live with me without being married would be frowned on. My reputation, personally and in business, is very important to me. To continue our relationship here is also not possible. I do not have the time to fly back to London every weekend.”

She stared at him, mesmerized by the cadence of his voice. It all sounded so … reasonable. Luca’s thumb was brushing rhythmic patterns across the back of her hand, and she had to concentrate to understand his next words.

“As my wife you will have a generous monthly allowance, in addition to credit cards and access to store accounts for any clothes, shoes, or other items you may wish to purchase. You could continue your education, get a degree in something that interests you. I am not sure there are any ninja schools in Milan, but you can check.”

She laughed, surprised he’d remembered her outrageous statement at the party. “I think I’ll leave ninja-ing for my next life. What do you get out of this deal?”

“All I ask is that you proofread a few letters, attend some business functions with me from time to time, and care for our future family.”

She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and swallowed. His gentle caress on her hand was wreaking havoc with her normally rational thought patterns. He sounded so business-like, outlining a proposed merger of their lives, and all she could think about was the merger of their bodies. She looked down at their entwined hands and made one last attempt to match his dispassionate tone.

“I would still like to help my brother financially until he starts work full-time. May I use some of the allowance for that?”

“Of course, you can spend it on whatever you wish. If you need more, let me know. There does not seem to be anything else holding you here, so what do you say?” The words were spoken casually, but once again his accent had become more pronounced. She searched his eyes. They met her gaze with a warmth that belied the relaxed manner of his tone.

“Yes, I’ll marry you and come to Italy,” she said. This was her best chance to make something of herself. Complete her education, learn a new language, have a family without worrying about where the next meal was coming from. Maybe even start her own business. She’d finally be living and not merely existing. A shiver of excitement, not trepidation, raced through her.

“Excellent, I will make the arrangements. Do you really not have a passport?” A full smile lit up his face, and Sophia wondered at the transformation. Could he have really been anxious that she would refuse him?

“No, I’ve never had the opportunity to travel out of the country.”

“You will need to get one as soon as possible. On Monday I will have been in London for seven days, so I will meet the residency requirement and we can give notice at the register office. Then we can be wed a couple of weeks after that,” he said. He had done his homework. “I know you said you don’t see your family often. Perhaps I could meet your parents tomorrow?” His tone was calm, but she sensed his curiosity.

“No,” she blurted out. She pulled her hand away from his and sat back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest. “Um, I don’t think I’ll inform my parents of our arrangement just yet. I’ll tell my younger brother, James, that I have taken a job in Italy. Besides, tomorrow I’m working again. So I don’t have time to see them anyway.”

Luca seemed taken aback but after a moment replied, “As you wish. Do you have any other questions?”

“Not that I can think of at the moment. I am sure something will come to mind later.”
Like what on earth am I thinking, marrying a complete stranger? And is this total or only partial insanity?

Fifteen minutes later they stepped out of the restaurant into the cool West London night. The Styrofoam containers made an odd squeaking sound in the plastic bag Luca held. There had been a few leftovers from their dinner, but she hadn’t wanted to appear low-class by requesting to take them home. She was pretty sure Luca’s normal dates didn’t ask for doggy bags. And then out of the blue, Luca ordered take-away as they finished their meal.