Page 20 of A Tainted Beauty


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‘Yes, she gave them to me.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘And I’m giving them back to their rightful owner.’

‘Oh, Ciro.’ She tried to find words to thank him but nothing would come—only a convulsive kind of swallowing as she realised the significance of what he’d done. What a wonderful and thoughtful gesture to have made.

‘And I know it’s shameless of me to strike at a moment of such high emotion, but I can be completely shameless at times.’ He picked up her hand and began to brush her fingertips against his lips. ‘Which is why I’m asking you again to marry me.’

‘Ciro—’

‘I could give you a hundred reasons why it makes sense—starting with the fact that I want to help your brother achieve his dreams by funding his place at art school.’

‘That’s another pretty shameless statement,’ she said, shivering as she felt his tongue slide slowly against her middle finger.

He met the darkening of her eyes. ‘But there are plenty of others. Top of the list is probably my insane desire to kiss you.’

She swallowed, gathering up the courage to tell him the truth. ‘I think that might be near the top of my list, too.’

He moved her fingers away from his mouth and bent forward, his lips grazing hers and feeling her body shiver with desire as he pulled her close. Lacing his fingers in the thick chignon of her hair, he kissed her as he couldn’t ever remember kissing a woman before—hard and deep and passionate. He heard the throaty moan she made as she wrapped her arms

around his neck and felt the wild thunder of his heart. He stopped only when his lungs were so deprived of air that he felt almost light-headed and then he drew his head away and looked down at the hectic glitter of her eyes.

‘But first I need you to marry me,’ he said unevenly.

And Lily knew she was all out of excuses. That it would be madness to say no—even if she wanted to. She could feel the smoothness of the pearls against her skin and she could feel her heart lifting with gratitude for what he’d done. A man like Ciro would be easy to love, she thought. Oh, so easy.

‘And I need you to marry me,’ she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘I’M SCARED,’ said Lily.

Staring at her ghostly image, she looked up to meet Danielle’s eyes, which were reflected back at her in the silvered opal mirror. ‘I know it’s stupid, but I am.’

‘Because?’ asked Danielle patiently.

Lily touched her fingers to the exquisite veil which flowed down over her shoulders and the woman in the mirror mimicked the movement. Would it sound crazy to admit to feeling lost in Il Baia—this vast Neapolitan hotel of Ciro’s, where she and Danielle had been staying in the days leading up to today’s ceremony? Or to try to explain that the beautiful city of Naples and strange language were a complete culture shock to someone who’d spent most of her life in and around Chadwick Green? It was as if the reality of Ciro’s wealthy life and powerful influence had only just sunk in and she wondered whether she would be equipped to deal with it. In the passion of the moment, it had been all too easy to say yes to his proposal of marriage—but here in the sumptuous confines of his life, she wondered how she would cope with being his wife.

She shrugged and the delicate silk of the bodice whispered over her shoulders. ‘I can’t imagine living here in Naples.’

Danielle made a minor adjustment to the wreath of white roses which sat on top of Lily’s piled up hair. ‘Oh, Lily,’ she said, her voice as briskly cheerful as it had been all morning. ‘All that will change with time. You’ve got to give yourself a chance. It’s just normal pre-marital nerves, that’s all.’

Was it? Lily wondered. Her mother’s pearls gleamed softly at her neck and her heart was beating out a strange new rhythm as she gazed at herself in all her wedding finery. Did all brides feel this way? As if they were poised on a very high diving board but not quite sure how deep the water beneath them was? Probably not. But then, most brides knew their husband far more intimately than she knew Ciro.

She had thought that once she’d agreed to marry him he would want to consummate their relationship, but that hadn’t been the case. He wanted to hold off until their wedding night. He told her he loved the fact that she’d refused him. That it made her different from every woman he’d ever known. He told her that he found it a challenge to wait—that his desire for her was building and building with every day that passed.

The waiting game was almost over and tonight was the big night—when they would be joined together in the most fundamental way of all. But Lily wished this terrible sense of foreboding would leave her. The sense that something was slightly off kilter. Was it because she still hadn’t plucked up the courage to tell him about her relationship with Tom—even though Tom no longer mattered? She’d kept putting it off and putting it off, unwilling to cast any shadows over the sunny days leading up to the wedding. And now she’d left it so long, it was too late. The bride wasn’t even supposed to see her husband until she met him at the altar—so what was she supposed to do? Text him now and tell him she’d once been engaged to another man?

‘I don’t know if I can go through with it, Dani,’ she said hoarsely.

‘Of course you can.’ Danielle brushed down the skirt of her blush-pink bridesmaid dress and smiled. ‘Because in a church not far from here awaits the kind of man most women would kill to marry. Think about it this way. You’re in a beautiful city, staying in an amazing five-star hotel overlooking the bay—a hotel which happens to be owned by the man who will soon be your husband. You’re in Naples, for God’s sake—and about to marry one of its most famous residents! It’s normal for a bride to feel scared before she walks down the aisle—but you have more reason than most to do so.’

‘I do?’

‘Of course you do! You’re a foreigner here—and it’s going to take a while before you feel like you fit in. Just don’t expect too much.’

Once more, Lily touched the pearls at her neck. ‘I don’t think his mother likes me.’

‘Why not?’

Lily recalled Leonora D’Angelo’s demeanour when Ciro had taken her round to be introduced. The way she had presented two cool cheeks to be kissed, before looking her up and down with narrow-eyed assessment. And Lily had felt like a galumphing giant in comparison to the perfectly groomed and elegant woman who sat dwarfed in an enormous chair.

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