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She sipped it tentatively. It was delicious, but then Vittorio’s cocktails always were delicious—that wasn’t the problem. ‘It tastes potent. What’s it called?’
Black eyebrows quirked. ‘“Wicked Seduction”?’
‘You can’t. Sophia would never forgive you.’
He grinned. ‘Then, mia piccola, you name it.’
She thought for a moment. ‘“Celebration”.’
He sighed. ‘Boring.’
But that was just it. That was the difference between them. She was run-of-the-mill and the sort of person who would call a cocktail ‘Celebration’; he was anything but run-of-the-mill, hence ‘Wicked Seduction’.
She shrugged to hide what had felt like a punch in the stomach. ‘You did ask.’
‘Si, this is true. OK, Cherry. Sophia’s cocktail is named “Celebration”. Now, finish yours and I will pour you another. Maybe after two you will prefer my name?’ He turned his head to look at her fully and her breath caught in her throat at his handsomeness.
Somehow she managed to keep her voice light. ‘One is more than enough, thank you. I need to keep a clear head. The
re’s still masses to do for the wedding and—’
‘And you must have fun too. This was part of the deal, was it not? So we will sit and drink cocktails and watch the sun go down before I take you out to dinner. There is a place I know where the food is good and the dancing even better. One friend showing another a good time. That is all.’
Cherry shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, Vittorio.’
‘Si. I think so.’ His grey eyes scanned her face. ‘We will eat and dance and forget all about the wedding for a while, and you will be refreshed to begin work again tomorrow.’
Did he know she was fighting herself even more than him? That there was nothing more she would like than to spend the evening with him, which was exactly why she mustn’t? ‘We said—’
‘I am being very good.’ He interrupted her again, but this time his voice was unashamedly cajoling. ‘I do not make love to you, as I would like. I am keeping my promise, so this is my reward. We will spend the evening together, away from lists and plans and schedules. OK?’
She might have still been able to resist if he hadn’t leaned over and taken her free hand, lifting it to his mouth and kissing the pulse beating in her wrist. She stared down at the dark head and knew she was lost.
He settled back on his lounger, letting go of her fingers. ‘OK?’ he said again.
She nodded weakly. Which wasn’t the way to deal with someone like Vittorio, she knew. The trouble was, how did you cope with a man who was as sexy as sin and twice as irresistible?
CHAPTER NINE
A COUPLE of hours later she was gazing despairingly at herself in the mirror in her bedroom. She had seized the opportunity when they’d been sorting out the bridesmaids’ dresses and pageboy outfits in Bari to buy herself two new frocks, so she didn’t have to keep alternating the two dresses she’d brought with her from England each night, but now she wasn’t sure she had chosen well. The draped silk-jersey dress in a pale peach had seemed perfect in the shop, but now she wondered if the neckline was a little too plunging and the material a trifle too clingy. And her other acquisition, a red shot-silk chiffon dress, seemed to scream look at me, and she didn’t want Vittorio to think she was trying too hard.
Whatever had possessed her? She sat down with a little plump on the bed. Both dresses were not the sort of clothes she would normally buy, but in the shop, where there had been rack upon rack of wildly seductive frocks, they had seemed quite respectable. They still were, she supposed, but just not her. Mind you, over the last days she had lost sight of who she was. The emotions and feelings which had taken her over were far removed from the person she’d thought she was.
There was a knock at the bedroom door, and as she called, ‘Come in,’ Sophia came into the room—much as she had done that first evening a week ago. Vittorio’s sister had been resting in her room for most of the day, but round about this time every night the debilitating nausea seemed to lift until the next morning. Cherry just hoped it had lessened when the wedding, four weeks away, took place. A bride who was distinctly green about the gills wouldn’t exactly add the right touch to the occasion.
‘You look lovely,’ Sophia said warmly, her hands on her hips as she surveyed Cherry. ‘That dress is perfect for you.’
‘Do you really think so?’ Cherry peered anxiously into the mirror once more. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Si, it is so. But maybe your hair…’ Sophia put her head on one side like a bird. ‘I know. Wait here.’
While Sophia had gone, Cherry turned her attention from the dress to her hair. What was wrong with it? She’d put it up in a coil at the back of her head, feeling the elegant dress deserved a more sophisticated style.
Sophia returned with a box of pins and several tiny crystal clips. ‘Sit,’ she said imperiously, pushing Cherry down on the velvet stool in front of the sleek dressing table before whipping out the clip holding her hair in place. ‘I like playing with the hairstyles. I used to do the same with my dollies when I was a little girl.’
Great. Now she was Barbie. Cherry shut her eyes, knowing protest was useless. This was a Carella after all.
After a few minutes, and with laughter in her voice, Sophia said, ‘You can open your eyes now, Cherry, and see what a bird’s nest your hair has become.’
