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Then the next day she would fly to the Caribbean to keep her end of her bargain with Vasile.
Part of her wanted to tell Marco. She felt guilty keeping it from him. But then, although they had spent the night together, she had no reason to trust him with such a huge personal secret. In fact, after what he’d said last night, she had every reason to believe that tomorrow he would be out of her life again, as completely as he had been four years ago.
A nasty, cold feeling of emptiness hung threateningly at the back of her mind, pressing forward whenever her thoughts strayed to the inevitable moment when he would leave her. But she tried to ignore it. Although she had taken comfort from being with Marco, and experienced bliss in his arms, she must not mistake their time together as more than it was. She had made that error four years ago and ended up with a broken heart.
Apart from just one night, Marco didn’t want her. For her own protection, she must always remember that.
At least with Vasile she knew where she stood. He couldn’t hurt her because she would never make herself vulnerable by opening her heart to him. He just wanted her money. He would never let her down, because she would never hope for more from him. There was nothing to lose except the money, which was meaningless to her.
She’d already lost everything that ever meant anything. And now she was losing her father. She had to do anything and everything possible to keep him safe and content during his final weeks and months.
Claudia sipped the velvety thick hot chocolate and closed her eyes in a moment of sheer, unadulterated pleasure. The deliciously rich hot chocolate was a matter of local pride in Turin. And it never failed to deliver—always providing comfort and a few minutes of escape from whatever life had thrown at her. She didn’t know the recipe but it tasted just like pure melted chocolate, with maybe a dash of cream thrown in for good measure.
She’d first discovered it not long after coming to live in Italy. Her grandmother had just died, taking with her the only link she had with her real mother, and her father had recently become the business partner of a man called Primo Vasile—someone her stepmother, Francesca, had introduced him to. Claudia always had the impression that her father did not care for Vasile, but he seemed unable to refuse Francesca anything.
At first Claudia hadn’t really liked Turin. Uprooted from her life in London, mourning the loss of her beloved grandmother and missing all her friends, Turin had seemed alien and unwelcoming. Francesca had brought her into the city on frequent shopping expeditions, under the pretence of helping her to adjust to her new life. But in reality she still had no time for her stepdaughter and usually left her alone, drinking hot chocolate, while she spent hours moving from one designer boutique on Via Roma to another.
After a while Claudia had become more confident and began to explore the city on her own. The first thing she realised was how friendly the people were. The next thing was that you could literally walk for miles under the elegant porticoes that lined so many of the grand streets around the city centre. In the height of the Italian summer they were always shady and cool, and on rainy or overcast days, when the clouds pressed in and you’d never know that the city was built so close to the looming mountains, you could still get about without needing an umbrella.
Now she was sitting in her favourite café in the Quadrilatero Romano, drinking hot chocolate while she waited for Marco to finish his business meeting. Then he would accompany her to the hospital and talk to her father’s doctors.
It was a crisp clear day and the café was situated in an enchanting piazza in the shadow of an ancient bell tower. It was bustling with people and suddenly she was glad to be back in Turin. She liked it inside the traditional café. The jars of old-fashioned sweets lined up so colourfully behind the counter reminded her of her childhood, and the caring motherly ladies who ran the café made her feel safe.
Today she sat facing the door, looking out at the sunny piazza. She wanted to be able to see Marco approaching. At last she spotted him walking across the piazza towards the café. Her heart gave a little leap of pleasure and suddenly, despite the crowds of people, it was as if there was no one else in the piazza.
He looked so impressive, dressed impeccably in a dark suit with a crisp white shirt. A gold watch and cufflinks glinted at his wrists and his Italian leather shoes gleamed. As he walked, people seemed to flow naturally out of his way. She sat up a little straighter, a feeling of pride swelling through her. That gorgeous man was walking towards her.
‘Ciao.’ He greeted her with a kiss and almost immediately a waitress was beside them, ready to take their order.
‘How was your meeting?’ Claudia asked once the waitress had gone, suppressing a smile at the admiring glances Marco was drawing from all the women in the café. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to be out in public with him, how every female eye turned his way, how every man he encountered seemed to jump to do his bidding.
‘Excellent,’ Marco said. ‘In fact, I’m very pleased—I have everything I need to complete something I’ve been working towards for a long time.’
‘You don’t look all that pleased.’ Claudia spoke without thinking as she took in the grim set of his face.
‘It’s not over yet.’ He turned his gaze on to her and she was startled by the intensity in his dark eyes. ‘I’ll celebrate when it’s done.’
She stared back at him and the coldness in his expression made an icy feeling wash over her. The thought crossed her mind that he seemed like a stranger, but then she’d always known he hadn’t risen so high in the global business arena by being warm and fuzzy. She knew that he had a ruthless streak, a steely determination to get what he wanted.
‘Will you be happy when it’s done?’ she asked. ‘Or will you just start work on another deal?’ It had never occurred to her before to wonder if Marco was happy. He’d always seemed so dynamic and in control that his happiness was something that she’d never questioned.
‘This is not just any deal,’ he said. Something in his voice told her that it really was something of great importance to him. It seemed strange to her that, given how intimate they had been, that she didn’t know what it was that was so important to him.
‘So you’ll be extra happy when it’s over?’ she pushed.
‘Happiness has nothing to do with it,’ Marco grated. A muscle suddenly pulsed on his jaw line and a dangerous glint lit his eye. Claudia bit her lip, realising that she had intruded too far into matters that didn’t concern her.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’
Just at that moment the waitress arrived, carrying a tray with their drinks.
Claudia fell silent and watched her place two short-stemmed glasses of the famous bicerin on the table, followed by two glasses of water.
‘Now I know I’m in Turin.’ Claudia slid her drink towards her, trying to lighten the atmosphere between them. After all, Marco was about to do her a great favour when he spoke to her father’s doctors.
‘We’ll go straight to the hospital when we’re finished here.
’ The tone of Marco’s voice was back to normal and his expression was bland. But it was clear that he did not want to let their conversation return to the previous subject.
