Trust Me II (11 page)

Irena spent a great deal of the evening talking and dancing with Bess’s youngest son, Peter, who looked to be around
seventeen. Sandra spied her new sister-in-law blushing on several occasions when the dark haired boy leaned in and whispered in her ear, took her hand and snuck off to a quiet corner to talk privately. It was obvious she was enjoying herself and with Rochelle’s talent for makeup, she was attracting a number of admiring young eyes, though her brothers were close by watching, with a number of warning glares offered from Creighton.

The caterers served several variations of salads, ribs, roast chicken breasts, sausage dishes and thick ham steaks, as well as a half dozen pasta dishes, fresh fruits and vegetables, chocolate mousse, cream cheese stuffed crepes, spotted dicke, cheese cakes and more champagne than Sandra knew existed in a single place.

Two long wide tents were set up next to each other, with an adjoining flap opened so people could pass from one side to the other. The second tent was closest to the house and held the food and more than a dozen round tables where the guests cold sit and dine or chat comfortably in the upholstered chairs. The band and smaller tables were set up in the first tent, along with a temporary dance floor and an open bar.

As the food continued to occupy a great deal of attention, being replenished frequently, the guests mingled, talked and danced; introductions were made and the wedding couple moved about with ease and comfort as if among old friends. The gayety of the party was alive and the laughter filtered out onto the world beyond like a flock of seagulls, carrying the noise of the evening into the night air.

Sandra found herself actually enjoying her visit with The Don and his boys, though their heavy accent left her straining to understand them. His sons, Demarco and Demetrio were the eldest, identical twins who were quite friendly, laughing and flirting with the many young women who smiled at them. Renato was shy and slightly stalky in form, yet his laugh was deep and genuine and Sandra found herself smiling at how easily it was for him to find humor in nearly everything around him. Giovanni was the youngest, early to mid-twenties, and by far the most attractive with thick dark hair that hung to the bottom of his collar, dark eyes and a wickedly seductive smile. Cathy found it easy to make her way toward him, smiling and flirting to the height of her expertise, and though he seemed polite and friendly to her, his eyes never strayed far from Sabrina, catching her eye and making her blush.

Their Italian friends seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as the rest of the guests, with the exception of Silvano. He hung around the opening of the tent with a bandage across his nose and two black eyes, solemnly watching all that was happening. Sandra felt bad for his appearance, since she was the one who caused it, yet she couldn’t help smiling as he walked away whenever she came near, glaring at her as though she were the devil incarnate.

“So,
Signora
,” The Don said as he held her around the waist while they danced to the young singers version of Michael Jackson’s
You Are Not Alone.
“How is life with my old friend?”

“Better every day,” Sandra replied, taking note of the tall attractive Italian woman in a very tight blue dress watching them closely from a nearby table. “So what shall I call you?
Mister what? I don’t remember Creighton every telling me your full name.” The man laughed, causing the woman nearby to frown.

“It is
Donato Vigano,
but the people I know just call me
The Don.
”

“Well, I think I’ll just call you Donato. It’s your name after all.” The older man looked at her appraisingly then shook his head with an amused yet sad gesture.

“You are so much like my Zaira,” he told her, almost sadly. Sandra looked to the woman behind him and smiled.

“She’s very beautiful.” Donato looked over his shoulder, chuckling under his breath.

“That is not Zaira,” he said. “That is
Mariella
, she is my
amanti
...lover. Zaira died when Aryana was born.”

“I’m sorry,” Sandra said, feeling the sudden tension between them at the memory of his beloved Zaira’s death.

“It was a long time ago. She gave me two beautiful children and I will someday rejoin her.”

“But you have six children.”

“Si, I have had the misfortune of burying two of my loves, which is why I will never marry again. Mariella, she is not happy about this, but I will not do it again. She is cared for; lots of
denora,
nice home, expensive clothes. She has no worries, but I will never marry her. My heart belongs to Zaria, this she knows.” Sandra accepted the man’s kiss to her hand when the song ended and watched him walk over the attractive woman, wrapping his arm around her waist and leading her toward the buffet tent.

Sandra sat next to Mary and James feeling like her feet were blistered from all the dancing; her legs aching enough that she
was now regretting the run she had earlier, but she wasn’t about to let Creighton know that; she’d much rather he think the sore muscles were from his intense lovemaking. She sat looking around at the people who danced, ate or laughed. It was a pleasant enough evening, but it seemed like it was never going to end. She smiled at the people who passed them, certain her face was going to freeze in this position. She felt hot and in desperate need of the water she asked the waiter to bring her, when she spied her husband in a small group of cousins. He was a very gallant man, paying attention to those gathered around him, smiling, laughing and swapping stories. He was a proficient host and seemed relaxed and under control, even the few times Andrew or Clark came over to speak with him.

New Hope’s publicity department release a short statement earlier that afternoon, thanking everyone for their thoughtful gifts and asking that anyone wishing to send more make a donation instead, so they had managed to ward off the majority of gifts or money. So far there were only about fifty presents received from those who had either already purchased a present or had not heard the press release. Perhaps another toaster sat among the wrapped presents, she thought with an amused grin.

Two young women stood by the chocolate fountain eying the bride with a mixture of anger and envy. They were family members of William and Emma’s neighbors and Sandra heard them accusing her of marrying Creighton for his money; in their opinion it was impossible for an American to marry a wealthy Englishman and not want to spend his millions. Then they debated how they would spend it and what they would do if they were in her shoes. It was more humorous than irritating and she couldn’t help but smile as she diverted her eyes.

Daniel found her still sitting next to her grandparents and asked her to dance; she felt like she was on display in a glass window for all to examine and criticize, but this young man was easy to speak with and she was eager to know what happened after he and Aryana left them in Italy.

“So how are things going with the new father-in-law?” she asked the young man as they twirled around the floor while the band began to play
Sapore di Sale,

“He’s getting used to me I think. It’s much easier now that we are back in Paris; he only calls two or three times a day. Aryana is upset with me though; I won’t allow her father to shower her
with money like she’s been used to. I am trying to break her of her shopping habit.”

“Good luck,” Sandra said. “My grandparents spent many years trying to curb my sister’s spending, with very little success. Maybe once the baby is here and she realizes that money doesn’t grow on trees, she’ll slow down.”

“I hope so. She’s already talking about having another baby and this one isn’t even here yet.” The two laughed, glancing to the girl in question as she stood beside Kristen, rubbing her tummy and speaking with great enthusiasm. Kristen was smiling, but Sandra could tell she was listening out of politeness more than interest.

“I have to tell you,” Daniel said a few moments later as Creighton slowly made his way toward them. “Silvano is really hacked off with you; he spent the two days we were in Italy calling you more dirty names than I have ever heard. The Don finally gave him a right good rollicking before we left yesterday.”

“I’m not sure what that means, but as long as he keeps his distance then I’m okay with it.”

“Hey boy,” Creighton said patting Daniel on the shoulder and smiling. “I think you’ve monopolized enough of my wife’s time. It’s my turn.” Daniel laughed and shook his hand before kissing Sandra on the cheek.

“I think you made a good choice here,” he told his employer. “She’s a real gem.” Creighton smiled, taking Sandra in his arms as the band began to play
You are My Destiny
and moved slowly around the makeshift dance floor.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked softly.

“Very much, thank you.” Not exactly a lie, she thought; for the most part she was enjoying herself, there had been just a few minor black marks to make her feel uncomfortable. “And thank you for everything you’ve done; not just for the wedding and this party, but today as well. I don’t think I could have made it a single moment without you. You made my trip to Europe a dream come true.”

“You are welcome my love,” he said softly. “Don’t tell your sister, but I am forever in her debt for sending in that contest entry for you. I’m not sure what I would have done had you not come to France. I was starting to run out of ideas, short of kidnapping you.”

“Knowing you, you would have stalked me a little longer before your perverted mind came up with another deviant idea to get me alone.” Creighton laughed, hugging her to his chest.

“You know it, baby,” he told her. They continued to dance for several more minutes, through the first song they started with and into the next. Sandra tried to ignore the glares the young women were giving her and the lustful glances from several of the men. It was enough to offset the happiness of the evening.

“Stop worrying about them,” he told her as though reading her mind again. “Those girls are petty and jealous and with good reason; you look stunning and absolutely delicious.”

“And what about the men who are looking at me like I’m on the dessert menu?” she asked with a shy smile.

“Let them look,” he shrugged. “Just so long as they don’t try and sample the goods. I like being envied by them. I have what they never will; love and passion and a wife who is simply the most incredible woman to grace this dusty old country in many long years.”

“You, sir, are definitely my knight in shining armor; and you claim to not be a romantic.” Creighton kissed her lips tenderly, the tip of his tongue tracing the outline of her bottom lip before it found the entrance between her teeth. Sandra blushed as their tongues began a slow, caressing tango with each other. She was sure he was kissing her like this for show, but she didn’t care. His touch had a way of melting her resistance and warming her in places that begged for his attention.

Several long moments passed before Sandra felt like she was able to think again, her head laying against her husband’s shoulder as they moved slowly to the music. She looked around at the guests who watched them, smiling for Chang who snapped picture after picture for their wedding album. She noticed Sabrina and Donato’s youngest son, Giovanni, dancing nearby and it appeared they were far more than casual acquaintances. They smiled and whispered together before he kissed her cheek, causing her to blush profusely. Sandra had seen them periodically throughout the evening talking and dancing and wondering off from time to time alone holding hands, sitting alone at a table and talking privately and very intimately, all the while Sabrina blushed and batted her eyes.

Sandra looked up into her husband’s handsome face and saw his set jaw as his attention was also on the young couple.

“So what do you have against your sister’s love interest?” she asked when the music changed to another romantic number.

“Why do you ask?” he smiled a half grin. It was more than apparent to him that she had noticed where his attention had been diverted and caught him in the act of
protective brother
.

“Because you’ve been watching them like a mother hen,” she teased. “Don’t you like the boy?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I do. Next to The Don, he’s the only decent one out of the whole bunch, but I don’t like him with my sister.”

“Why?”

“Because…she’s not old enough to date.” Sandra laughed at the big brother attitude.

“She’s an adult and has been on her own at college for four years. She has probably had more than one boyfriend in her life, possibly even a lover or two.” Creighton looked at her in horror as though she had just punched him in the gut; he had never considered this before.

“She wouldn’t dare,” he growled.

“Well, let’s think about it,” Sandra began hoping to keep the amusement from her tone as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I was a virgin until I met you, very rare in this day and age. You were how old? Seventeen? Miriam was sixteen, right? Just about Irena’s age if I’m not mistaken? And Sabrina is what, twenty three? So basically they are both old enough…”

“No more!” Creighton growled again, his eyes scanning the area for his little sisters. “They had better still be virgins or I’m going after the buggers who changed that fact and if Irena even looks at a boy before she’s thirty I’ll send her to a convent.” Sandra could no longer hold it back, she laughed full and cheerfully at her husband’s reaction, bringing several curious eyes to stare in their direction.