To Wear His Ring Again (12 page)

She studied him as he stopped on his way to the bar to chat to someone. They had lost their child, and he was under no obligation to remain married to her, so why had he told her that he had changed his mind and wanted to give their marriage another chance, unless—her heart thudded against her ribs—could it be that he felt something for her?

‘Your husband is a handsome devil. I remember he was a good-looking boy, but then it's hardly surprising when his mother was one of the most photographed models of her era.'

Isobel turned towards the woman who had come to stand next to her. She had met Diane Rivolli when Constantin had introduced them at a dinner party two nights ago, and she remembered he had said that Diane lived outside Rome, near to Casa Celeste on the shores of Lake Albano.

‘Did you know Constantin's mother?'

‘I knew Susie when she was Susie Hoffman. We belonged to the same modelling agency in New York but Susie was gorgeous and she got far more bookings than any of the other girls.' Diane shrugged. ‘In fact I met my husband when Susie invited me to stay at Casa Celeste after she'd married Franco De Severino. I think she was lonely, shut away in that huge house that's more like a museum than a home. As for her husband...'

Diane paused, and Isobel's curiosity grew. ‘What about Constantin's father?'

‘Franco was a cold fish. I gained the impression that the only thing he cared about was Susie. But he loved her
too
much, if that makes sense?' Seeing Isobel's puzzled expression, Diane tried to explain. ‘Franco was obsessed with Susie. He disliked her having friends, and although my husband and I only lived a short distance away we were hardly ever invited to Casa Celeste. On the few occasions when we were invited, Franco was always on edge. He hated other men looking at his wife. I even think he was jealous of his own son,' Diane said meditatively. ‘Susie doted on Constantin, but even when he was a baby Franco seemed to resent her spending time with her son. I caught him looking at Constantin once with such a strange expression on his face, as if he hated the child.'

Isobel was fascinated to hear about Constantin's family. She had often wondered why he was reluctant to talk about his childhood. ‘Franco must have been devastated when Susie died.'

‘You would think so, but if he was upset he didn't show it. At her funeral he stood in the church like a cold statue without a flicker of emotion on his face.' Diane shook her head. ‘I found it even stranger that Constantin never cried for his mother. He stood stiffly at Susie's graveside like a miniature image of his father and didn't shed a tear. I didn't see him again for years because Franco packed him off to boarding school. Constantin must have been about sixteen when Franco married his second wife.'

‘I had no idea that Constantin had a stepmother.' Isobel frowned at this new revelation. ‘He's never mentioned her.'

‘Maybe that's because he was in love with Lorena.' Diane paused again, allowing her startling suggestion to register with Isobel.

‘Constantin was in love with his stepmother?'

The other woman shrugged. ‘Why not? Lorena was much younger than Franco. She was probably only in her early twenties, very attractive—and she knew it! It was pretty obvious that she had married Franco for his money. She enjoyed socialising and she often invited me and my husband to pool parties, although it was clear that Franco hated having visitors.

‘I suppose you couldn't blame Lorena for wanting to have fun with Constantin when she was stuck with a dour older husband. She turned the boy's head, flirting with him and paying him attention.' Diane frowned. ‘There was something quite cruel about the way Lorena deliberately encouraged Constantin's crush on her, and the way she played father and son off against each other. Franco was jealous of his second wife in the same way he had been with Susie. He was furious if another man so much as looked at her, and Constantin's puppy-dog devotion to Lorena created a lot of friction between father and son.

‘I don't know what would have happened if the situation had continued,' Diane went on, ‘but then Franco and Lorena died in that terrible accident. Poor Constantin, not only did he witness what happened, but the leadership of DSE was thrown into chaos.

‘Constantin should have automatically become joint Chairman and CEO when his father died, but, because he wasn't eighteen, his father's brother, Alonso, assumed control of the company. Constantin worked his way up to CEO, and it's no secret that he wants complete control of DSE.'

Diane took a sip of champagne before continuing. ‘It's my belief that Constantin would go to any lengths to claim the chairmanship of DSE that he thinks is his birthright.'

Isobel's head was reeling from everything Diane had said, and she only vaguely registered the bit about Constantin wanting to be Chairman of DSE. Why hadn't he told her that his father and stepmother had died in an accident when he had been a young man? The tragedy must have had a fundamental impact on Constantin, especially if he had been in love with Lorena. Could it explain his strange behaviour when he had taken her to Casa Celeste? she wondered. Had he become cold and remote with her because he was
still
in love with his stepmother?

‘What actually happened to Constantin's father and stepmother?'

Diane gave her a strange look. ‘You mean he hasn't told you?' She seemed suddenly flustered when she caught sight of him walking across the ballroom towards them. ‘I've probably said too much. Why don't you ask Constantin what took place at the top of the tower at Casa Celeste?'

CHAPTER TEN

‘T
HE
HOUSE
IS
shut up and unstaffed apart from a caretaker and gardener because I rarely go there. I don't understand why you want to visit Casa Celeste.'

‘I've told you why. I want to visit Arianna's grave.' Isobel held Constantin's gaze and refused to be intimidated by the impatient expression etched on his taut features. ‘I don't need staff. I'm perfectly capable of making up a bed and cooking meals.'

He frowned at her across the breakfast bar where they had been enjoying a leisurely Saturday morning breakfast until she had stated her wish to make the twenty-kilometre journey south of the city to Lake Albano. ‘I don't see the point...'

‘Your lack of understanding says a lot,' she interrupted him, struggling to hide the hurt in her voice. ‘You've obviously been able to forget about our daughter, but I haven't, nor do I want to forget her. I would like to spend some time at the chapel where she's buried.'

Last night, when they had arrived home from the party, she had tried to talk about the past and in particular the things Diane Rivolli had said about Constantin's father and stepmother being involved in a terrible accident at Casa Celeste. But Constantin had refused to be drawn into a discussion, and had distracted her by sweeping her into his arms and whispering in her ear exactly what he was going to do to her once he had removed her dress and the tantalising wisps of her black lace underwear that he had pictured in his mind all evening.

Resistance would be futile, he had warned her. But Isobel had had no intention of resisting him, and by the time he had kissed her senseless before trailing his lips down her body to bestow a wickedly intimate caress that had resulted in her shuddering orgasm, she had forgotten that she had wanted to talk to him. When they had made love last night she had felt closer to him than she had ever felt, and, waking in his arms this morning, she had been filled with optimism that they had a future together. But her request to visit Casa Celeste had created a distinct chill in the atmosphere.

‘It's never a good idea to revisit the past,' he said harshly.

‘That's your way of dealing with things, isn't it? You pretend they never happened and refuse to talk about them. Are you going to keep running away for ever, Constantin?' Isobel said bitterly. She looked away from him. ‘I've come to terms with the miscarriage, but our baby will always have a special place in my heart. I'm going to Casa Celeste, with or without you.'

Constantin's jaw clenched. He did not know how to handle this confident Isobel who wasn't afraid to argue with him. She had changed immeasurably in the two years they had been apart, although her sensuality and generosity when they made love still set her apart from any of his previous lovers, he brooded, feeling his body stir as he remembered the erotic session in the shower that had made them late for the Bonuccis' party.

‘I can't spend time away from the office right now,' he said curtly. ‘I don't want you to go to the house on your own while the stalker is still a threat to your safety. For all we know, he could have discovered that you are in Rome.'

‘The police in England have arrested David and he is receiving psychiatric care. They phoned with the news yesterday and I meant to tell you when you came home from work, but...' she blushed as X-rated images of them in the shower flooded her mind ‘...we were distracted.'

‘Hmm...
distracted
is one way to describe what we were doing,' Constantin murmured. He walked round the breakfast bar and lifted her off the bar stool, holding her so that her pelvis was in burning contact with his. ‘Why don't we go back to bed and distract each other some more,
mia bella
?'

It was hard to think straight when his lips were trailing a sensual path along her collarbone. Isobel felt a familiar melting sensation in the pit of her stomach as he began to unbutton her shirt. She definitely should have worn a bra, she mused, stifling a moan when he rubbed his thumb pads across her nipples and they instantly hardened. All week, when he had rushed off to work each morning, she had longed for him to stay home and make slow leisurely love to her, but now she fought the temptation of his roaming hands and mouth. She recognised his diversionary tactics and refused to be sidetracked from her determination to go to Casa Celeste.

She had told him the truth when she'd said she wanted to visit their baby's grave. But she also sensed that there were secrets at the De Severino's ancestral home that she needed to uncover if she was to have a chance of understanding her enigmatic husband.

‘I know what game you're playing, Constantin,' she told him. She slid out of his arms and refastened her shirt, wincing as the cotton brushed across the sensitive peaks of her breasts. ‘It won't work. Either you come with me to Casa Celeste, or I'll go there on my own before I catch the next flight back to England.'

Constantin gave her a frustrated look. ‘That sounds like blackmail.' He remembered making the same accusation to his uncle not so long ago.

The stubborn set of Isobel's jaw infuriated him. She used to be so amenable! ‘I'm tempted to put you over my knee,' he growled, and had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen and her cheeks suffuse with colour. ‘But if I did, I guarantee we wouldn't leave the bedroom for a week.'

* * *

Constantin suddenly decided that he had to make several urgent business calls, and he spent all afternoon in his study, meaning that they did not set out for Casa Celeste until early evening. He was uncommunicative during the journey to Lake Albano, and when the car turned through the gates of the De Severino estate onto a long driveway lined with poplar trees he tightened his hands on the steering wheel so that his knuckles whitened.

Diane Rivolli's suggestion that Isobel should ask him about the accident that had resulted in the deaths of his father and stepmother was not as simple as it seemed, she brooded as she glanced at him. His grim expression did not encourage her to probe into his past, but she was convinced that they could not have a future together unless she could find the key that would unlock his emotions.

Her thoughts were diverted as they drew up in front of the house. The first time Isobel had visited Casa Celeste she had been awed by the grandeur of the four-storey building with its tall windows, elegant columns, and a tall tower topped with a spire that gave the house the look of a fairy-tale castle. Inside was no less magnificent. The frescoes on the walls and ceilings were adorned with gold leaf, and the white marble floors created an ambiance of welcome coolness to visitors entering the house from the heat of the Italian sun.

Diane had been right when she'd said that Casa Celeste was more like a museum than a home, Isobel acknowledged as she walked past a row of portraits of Constantin's ancestors. It was something she had thought herself when she had stayed there in the past. The dust sheets draped over the furniture added to the impression that this was a house of ghosts.

She shivered. It had been in this house that she had suffered a miscarriage. Shortly after dinner one evening she had been violently sick. The doctor Constantin called out had initially thought she had food poisoning, but the stomach cramps had worsened, and when she had started to bleed she had been rushed into hospital, but nothing could be done to save the baby.

It's never a good idea to revisit the past,
Constantin had warned her before they had left Rome. She wondered what memories filled his mind when he came to Casa Celeste. Blinking back her tears, she walked outside to the courtyard at the back of the house and found him sitting on a low wall surrounding an ornamental fountain.

‘Why didn't you tell me that your father and his second wife died here at Casa Celeste?'

He stiffened and shot her a searching look. ‘I suppose Diane was gossiping,' he said tersely. ‘No doubt she filled your head with lurid tales.'

‘Diane didn't tell me anything, except that they had been killed in an accident which you witnessed.' The cold gleam in Constantin's eyes warned Isobel that he wanted her to drop the subject, but her determination to resolve the issues that she was sure had come between them during their marriage made her press him for an answer. ‘What actually happened?'

A nerve flickered in his jaw. ‘Are you sure you want to know? Be careful, Isobel. Some secrets are best left hidden.'

She did not know how to respond, and after a few moments he shrugged and glanced up at the tall tower attached to the main house. His voice was devoid of emotion when he spoke.

‘My father and stepmother fell to their deaths from the balcony up there at the top of the tower.' He kicked the hard cobblestoned courtyard. ‘They were both killed instantly, which was some small mercy, I suppose.'

She gave a horrified gasp. ‘You saw it happen?'

‘Yes. It wasn't pretty, as I'm sure you can imagine.' His tone was so matter-of-fact that he could have been discussing something as mundane as the weather.

Isobel was lost for words, shocked not just by the details of the fatal accident but by Constantin's lack of sentiment. ‘What a terrible thing to have witnessed. You must have had nightmares afterwards...' Her voice faltered as she remembered how she had heard him shouting out during the night when they had stayed at Casa Celeste. No wonder his cries had been so blood-curdling if his dreams had relived the horror of seeing his father and stepmother plunge to their deaths.

‘You should have told me.' She felt hurt that he had not confided in her about the traumatic event in his life that must have affected him—and quite possibly
still
affected him, she mused, remembering what she had heard about Constantin's relationship with his father's second wife. ‘At least I would have understood why you dislike coming here.' She bit her lip. ‘Diane said that you were in love with Lorena.'

His reaction was explosive. He jumped to his feet and slashed his hand through the air. ‘
Mio Dio!
That woman should have her tongue cut out. Diane Rivolli was never party to my thoughts. She knows
nothing
, and she has no right to make slanderous accusations about me.'

He had paled beneath his tan, and the hand he raked through his hair shook, Isobel noticed. It was the first time she had ever seen him so worked up. Gone was his air of cool detachment. His jaw was rigid and his eyes glittered with anger. ‘I warned you that the past is best left dead and buried,' he said savagely.

‘Constantin...' She stared after him as he strode out of a gate in the courtyard wall that led to dense woodland surrounding the house, which was home to wild boar. He had once told her that c
inghiale
could weigh up to four hundred pounds and the males had fearsome tusks. But a wild boar was probably not as dangerous as Constantin's mood was right now, Isobel thought ruefully. His violent reaction when she had mentioned his father's young wife pointed to him having been in love with Lorena.

She suddenly wished she had heeded his advice and stayed away from Casa Celeste. There was a strange atmosphere in the courtyard where Franco and Lorena had died. The sun sinking below the horizon was blood-red, and cast long shadows on the house. Despite the warm evening air Isobel shivered as goosebumps prickled her skin, and, giving a low cry, she ran back inside. But there was no comfort to be found in the coldly elegant rooms. Casa Celeste was an impressive house, but she wondered if it had ever felt like a home to Constantin.

She unloaded the car and carried the food they had brought with them into the kitchen, where she put together a salad, forced herself to eat a small dinner, and put the rest in the fridge for Constantin, if and when he returned later. He still had not come back when she made up the bed in the master bedroom, before choosing one of the guest bedrooms for herself. She avoided the bedroom where she had stayed on her last disastrous visit two years ago.

Constantin's revelation about the tragedy that he had witnessed at Casa Celeste went some way to explaining why he disliked the house, but there were so many things about him that she still did not understand. Her marriage was as full of secrets as it had always been and she was no closer to discovering what, if anything, Constantin felt for her.

She must have slept deeply, because she did not hear him enter her bedroom much later that night, and she was unaware that he stood by the bed for a long time, a grave, almost tortured expression on his face as he watched her sleeping.

When Isobel opened her eyes, bright sunlight filled the room and she immediately saw Constantin sitting in an armchair next to the window.

‘You look terrible,' she told him bluntly, raking her eyes over his haggard face and the black stubble covering his jaw. ‘Have you slept at all?'

Instead of answering her question, he said harshly, ‘Let's go back to Rome. There is evil here in this house.'

She nodded slowly. ‘I can understand why you think that. But our daughter is here. I'm not leaving until I've visited Arianna's grave.'

* * *

The tiny private chapel where for centuries the members of the De Severino family had been baptised and buried was a little way off from the house. Isobel followed a path that wound through the estate, passing olive groves and vineyards before she caught sight of the ancient stone building. When she had last been there, on the day of Arianna's funeral, the chapel grounds had been overgrown and sunlight had struggled to filter through the trees. She remembered how she had felt hollow with grief and utterly alone. Constantin had been with her, but she had been chilled by his lack of emotion as they had said goodbye to their baby.

The gloomy surroundings had augmented her misery on that day two and a half years ago. But as she pushed open the gate and walked towards Arianna's headstone she was shocked to see that dozens of rose bushes had been planted around the grave, and a bench had been placed nearby beneath the delicate fronds of a young weeping willow. The tall oak trees had been cut back allowing sunshine to bathe this corner of the graveyard in a golden halo of light.