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Anchoring the glorious feathered head-dress to her upswept Titian hair took Poppy some time. Dulcetta and Arminio had invited her to dine with them and a maid was to come upstairs to sit with Florenza. Poppy attached the glittering diamanté-studded mask to her eyes and surveyed herself. The emerald-green gown had theatrical splendour and the neat low-cut bodice flattered her lush curves in a way that made her blush. Yet she felt her own mother would not have recognised her, a stray thought that hurt just a little for she had decided not to tell her family about her wedding until after the event. At such short notice and with flights from Australia and accommodation in Venice during the carnival being so expensive, it would have been impossible for her parents to attend their daughter’s special day. But in her heart of hearts, Poppy had also feared to put what she deemed to be already strained affections to the test.
When the knock on the door sounded, Poppy hurried to answer it before Florenza, who had just gone to sleep, could awaken again.
Disconcerted that it was Santino, whom she had believed might not arrive much before midnight, she fell back an uncertain step. Intent golden eyes pinning to her, he murmured something in husky Italian and his heartbreaking smile slowly curved his handsome mouth. As ever, he looked devastatingly dark, vibrant and attractive.
Her breath caught in her throat, for she had truly wondered if Santino would ever smile at her again. Her heartbeat picked up tempo and a flock of butterflies flew free in her tummy, but she held her head high, firmly convinced he would not recognise her at first glance.
‘Poppy…’ Santino said without a second of hesitation.
‘I thought you wouldn’t know it was me!’ Poppy wailed in helpless disappointment.
As he closed the door his wonderful smile deepened. ‘I would know you anywhere. In any light and any disguise.’
‘You’ll be able to dine with your mother and stepfather, after all.’ Feeling foolish, Poppy reached up and unfastened the diamanté mask to set it aside.
‘No. I called them from the airport and expressed our mutual regrets.’ Santino’s expression was now very serious. ‘We need to be alone so that we can talk.’
Poppy tensed in sudden apprehension. It was as if he had pushed a panic button. Suddenly she feared he was as keen to cancel the wedding as he had been to cancel the family dinner. ‘Santino…’
‘No, let me have the floor first…’ Santino dealt her a taut look from his beautiful eyes, his raw tension palpable. ‘I haven’t been straight with you. I haven’t been fair either—’
‘You’re stealing my lines…’ Poppy sped past him to snatch up her handbag and withdraw the much-abused letter, which she thrust at him in near desperation. ‘I didn’t think how it must’ve looked when I wouldn’t let you read it, but it is your letter—’
‘Stuff the letter,’ Santino groaned, not best pleased to have been interrupted just when he had got into his verbal stride and setting it straight back into her unwilling hand. ‘It’s unimportant. What matters is that I tell you how I feel…but you’re not likely to be impressed by the news that you had blown me away in Wales before it dawned on me that I was in love with you.’
In the act of ripping in frustration into the envelope for herself to produce a thick wad of notepaper, Poppy stopped dead and viewed Santino with huge, incredulous blue eyes. She couldn’t possibly have heard that, she told herself. In fact she must have been dreaming…
‘Porca miseria…in advance of that day, strange as it may seem,’ Santino disclaimed with touching discomfiture and a look that was a positive plea for understanding in his strained dark eyes. ‘I just had no idea why I was always coming down personally to the marketing department, why the day seemed a little brighter when I saw you, why I just liked you, why I started finding fault with every other woman I met…have you anything to say?’
In shock, Poppy shook her head.
‘Your very first day when I took you to hospital after you hurt your finger,’ Santino reminded her doggedly, lean, strong features taut, ‘I demonstrated how macho I was by passing out at the sight of the needle coming your way. Yet even though you were a real chatterbox and all my staff would have fallen about in stitches had you told them about that episode, you kept quiet. That was remarkably restrained of you…’
‘I wouldn’t have d-dreamt of embarrassing you at work.’ A great rush of answering love was surging up inside Poppy and playing havoc with her speech.
‘I know, amore…’ But his shapely mouth only semi-curved. ‘I was furious when my marketing head overreacted to that stupid cup of coffee. I was so protective of you, and then at the party, when Belston was scoring points off you, I could’ve ripped him apart! And when we were together in my office and I finally had you all to myself, it was more temptation than I was capable of withstanding—’
‘I felt like I’d thrown myself at you…’ Poppy shared painfully.
‘Who stopped you from leaving? Who kissed you? Who made all the real moves?’
Only then did Poppy appreciate that the prime mover had been him. ‘But you had been drinking—’
Santino groaned out loud. ‘I was just making excuses for myself. That night nothing had ever felt so right to me and I knew exac
tly what I was doing, but the next day I felt appallingly guilty for seducing you—’
‘I sneaked off because I thought it was all my fault—’
‘And I was furious about that. I called round at your bedsit that afternoon—’
Poppy winced. ‘Oh, no…you just missed me…’
‘I suspected you were home and just not answering the door because you didn’t want to see me—’
‘I wouldn’t have done that.’
‘Then I had to phone round half of Australia to track down your sister-in-law, Karrie, to find out where you were. Didn’t she tell you about my call?’
Even though her heart was singing, Poppy had paled. ‘Yes, but I just assumed it was because you were really worried I might be pregnant ’cos at that stage I still believed you were engaged to Jenna. Santino…I think you ought to take a look at this letter of mine before I get so mad with myself that I scream!’
But Santino had other ideas. She was still listening and her lovely eyes were soft and warm and it had been a day and a half since he had last touched her. Tugging her into connection with his lean, powerful length, he brought his mouth swooping down with unashamed hunger and urgency on hers, and for timeless minutes she clung, every fibre of her being alive with joyful excitement and the wondrous relief of knowing herself loved.
Pausing to snatch in a ragged breath, gazing down into her shining eyes, Santino muttered, ‘Sooner or later, I’ll find the magic combination of making you love me back…if only you hadn’t hated me when you were in Wales—’
‘I didn’t—’
‘I was devastated for weeks after that. I tore up the belated valentine card I had searched high and low for—’
