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He just laughed and turned her back towards him.
She clutched at it around her throat all the way in the car—which Rafaello drove at a pace that was almost sedate.
‘I don’t want to muss your hair,’ he said, and smiled at her, and for a second his gaze held. ‘I’m saving that for later,’ he murmured, and then, as the road curved, he flicked his gaze back ahead.
Did he really say that…? Magda wondered, thinking she must have misheard. Another thought came to her.
‘Rafaello—’ it was still strange to say his name; it didn’t come out naturally yet, for all that he was being so nice and kind to her ‘—what do I need to know about this evening?’
He glanced across at her again, one hand resting lightly on the wheel, the other dipping expertly to change gear and rev up the engine as they rounded a sharp bend in the road.
‘Paolo and Sylvia have been married a couple of years—they have one little boy, and Sylvia is expecting her next. I’ve known Paolo for ever. He’ll be curious to know how we ended up together, but don’t worry.’ He paused minutely to change gear. ‘He knows why I’ve married so suddenly. He’s heard action replays of my battles with my father for years.’
Magda swallowed. ‘So he knows,’ she said awkwardly, ‘how you came to select me? And for what reasons?’ she added bravely. ‘Won’t…won’t he think it strange that you are taking me with you this evening?’
‘No,’ he replied tightly.
A sudden new, hideous thought occurred to her. ‘You’re not…you’re not taking me there tonight to…to tell everyone…where…where you found me, are you? Part of…part of your…battle…with your father?’
There was fear in her voice, open and naked. Was that what Rafaello was going to do tonight? Walk her into a room full of strangers and tell them all he’d married a woman who cleaned toilets for a living?
Rafaello swore. Then, with a screech of tyre rubber, he pulled the car over to the side of the road. He turned in his seat.
She was looking at him, stricken, eyes wide, hands twisting in her lap. Something gutted him. She’d looked like that when he’d come out on to the landing to hear his father spill his poison all over her—poison that he had fed his father in the first place.
‘No!’ he said forcefully, then, more gently, ‘No—no. This time—’ there was irony in his voice, and self-accusation ‘—this time I have no such intent. This time…’ His voice changed, and sent a slow quiver along the base of her spine. ‘This time I am taking you with me because—’
His voice cut out. Then, with a twist of wry humour, he continued, ‘Because if I don’t then Paolo and Sylvia will simply turn up tomorrow at the villa to take a look at you. I thought it would be easier if they met you in the middle of a party—that way there will be more people around, and we have the option of leaving whenever we want.’
She was still looking at him, her eyes huge and fearful in the dim light.
‘Don’t look scared, cara, I will let no harm come to you,’ he told her softly. And then, to chase away that expression, to stop her looking at him as if she were terrified of the hurt he could inflict on her—and, he admitted to himself wryly, to do something he’d been wanting to do since she’d first walked down the stairs looking so heartbreakingly beautiful he had not been able to stop staring at her—he leant across and kissed her.
It was a soft kiss, not passionate—not yet—but a promise. A promise to her. A promise to himself.
His mouth touched hers and she melted into liquid honey, her eyes fluttering shut as his lips softly moved. Then he drew back. Her eyes opened again and he was looking at her, holding her gaze.
‘Don’t be afraid, cara…’
He gunned the engine and pulled out into the road again, heading off into the dark, headlights cutting a vivid beam of dazzling brightness through the dark Tuscan night.
The party, Magda discovered, proved no ordeal at all. Quite the reverse. True, the square Renaissance villa was so opulent, and the driveway so packed with the most expensive, fantastic cars, that Magda’s heart had hammered with nerves. She couldn’t go in! They would all know she wasn’t one of them.
As she’d stiffened in fear, an arm had come around her shoulder.
‘You look a million dollars—and I will take care of you.’
And he did. Rafaello did not leave her side for a moment, all evening. Not that she needed protection, Magda found. Paolo and Sylvia were welcoming and charming, with a real kindness behind their open curiosity about their friend’s unexpected bride. But nothing awkward was asked or said by anyone; everyone simply seemed to accept her at face value.
