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‘You mentioned a right-hand woman? I’m sure she is more than capable of managing things for a few weeks.’
Which was true, but still I resisted—out of fear as well as too strong a temptation.
‘I wouldn’t even know how to be at places like that, Matteo. I really don’t think I’m the right woman for this.’
‘You’re the right woman because I say you are. You’re my wife, Daisy. And surely our marriage deserves a chance, at least? You don’t even know what you’re refusing.’
I took a deep breath. A few weeks. It didn’t seem like a very long time. ‘And what would happen during these two weeks? Besides me being on your arm at parties?’
His eyes and teeth both gleamed. ‘Whatever you want to.’
‘And if I say no after the two weeks you’ll drop the whole notion? You won’t persist in this idea of a real marriage?’ It pained me a little to make that addendum. In two weeks I might never see Matteo again.
Matteo hesitated for a millisecond, and then he nodded. ‘Yes.’
I believed him—because I could tell it cost him to promise that. He was a man who took his promises seriously, never mind that he’d married for convenience.
‘And what about the...the physical side of things?’
‘I’m not going to force you into my bed, if that’s what you mean.’
The implication being that he wouldn’t need to. I could tell that by both his tone and smile. And I was afraid he was right.
How could I be so weak? How could I want so much and yet at the same time know it was so little?
‘I don’t know...’ I hedged.
The thought of appearing on Matteo’s arm, facing all those spiteful society types, was frankly terrifying—and that was without considering the other terrifying part of the equation: being alone with Matteo. Night after night. Temptation after temptation.
‘I really don’t think I’m the right person for this.’
‘And I’m telling you, you are. This deserves a trial, Daisy. We do. Two weeks. It’s not very much to ask.’
I gazed at him uncertainly as his silvery gaze bored into mine. ‘When you put it like that...’
‘You are capable of so much more than you seem to think you are. You’ve worked hard all your life, you moved to a strange city by yourself, you accepted a deal most women would be wary of, moved to a new country and made the most of it, even building up your own busin
ess. Daisy, you can do this. You’ve already done so much.’
The sincerity throbbing in his voice and blazing in his eyes brought tears to my own. ‘Do you really mean that?’ I asked in a wobbly voice. No one had ever said such kind things to me—ever.
‘Yes, I do. Absolutely.’
I believed him—and that was what made me decide. Matteo was right; we deserved two weeks at the very least. He did, and I did as well.
For better or worse.
‘All right,’ I whispered. ‘I’ll do it.’
Triumph flashed across Matteo’s face like lightning and he rose from the table, snapping his fingers at the waiter for the bill before reaching for my hand. I felt as if I’d just set a juggernaut in motion, and I didn’t know whether to leap out of the way or brace myself for impact.
‘Excellent. I’ll make the necessary preparation and we’ll leave for Athens tonight.’
‘Tonight? But—’
‘The event in Paris is in a few days and there is much to be done.’
‘I feel like Eliza Doolittle.’
