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Tilting her head back to look at the palatial villa, she said, “I’ll try to get used to it.”
Cristiano took her hand. “Come see inside.”
As they walked through the long hallways, over the tiled floors and past the antique furniture and tapestries, Hallie obligingly oohed and aahed over every detail he pointed out. Having gotten over the initial shock, she seemed determined to be pleased.
He’d arranged for new furniture to be put in the master bedroom and the baby’s nursery next door. Finally they walked out onto the villa’s wide terrace and Hallie approached the railing. Beneath the hot August sun, hungrily she drank in the incredible view as soft sea breezes lazily blew tendrils of her hair.
“Wow. Maybe this place isn’t so bad.” With a laugh, she glanced back at him with sparkling eyes.
But Cristiano didn’t return her smile. As he looked out at the magnificent view of the sea and the village clinging precipitously to the rugged cliffs on the other side of the bay, he was overwhelmed by the memory of the last time he’d stood on this terrace. He could still see Luigi’s bright eyes, the man’s chubby cheeks smiling as he’d said, “My boy, this palazzo in Rome, this is going to be the thing for us! It will take our company global!”
Our company, Luigi had said. Our. The memory was like a rough piece of cut glass on Cristiano’s soul because, after three years of working for the man, Cristiano had started to like him, even respect him. Bennato had been generous, kind. He’d treated Cristiano almost like a son.
He shook the memory away angrily. If Bennato had wanted a son, he shouldn’t have thrown Violetta and Cristiano away like trash. The old man deserved what he’d gotten. Bennato was the one who’d taught Cristiano the lesson: Life meant every man for himself.
And yet, suddenly, Cristiano didn’t enjoy owning the villa as much as he’d thought he would. Thinking of the times he’d ignored Luigi’s calls over the years, he wondered what the old man would have said.
“The view is incredible,” Hallie whispered. She wiped her eyes surreptitiously. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me. You don’t know how I’ve longed to have a real home where we can stay forever and ever.”
He opened his mouth to inform her that after the Cavello hotel opened in two weeks, they would still be traveling to Asia on schedule. He’d bought this house as a temporary amusement, perhaps a long-term investment. But he doubted they’d return to Italy for another six months, or perhaps even a year.
As he looked down at her, though, the happiness in Hallie’s face made him change his mind. Her caramel-brown ey
es glowed at him.
He didn’t want her to stop looking at him that way.
“You’re welcome,” he said softly, taking her hand. Together they looked out at the picturesque rocky coastline plummeting into the blue sea.
Later that night, as they slept together in the palatial master bedroom, with the windows open to salty sea breezes scented with tropical flowers, Hallie made him very, very glad that he’d made her so happy.
But he could make her happy anywhere, Cristiano told himself afterward, as she slept so contentedly in his arms. He had nothing to feel guilty about. Yes, he’d bought her a house. He’d never promised they would stay.
Cristiano looked toward the terrace, toward the moonlit sea. His arms tightened around his wife. He had promised himself long ago never to sacrifice his own needs for another’s. And he never would.
Life meant every man for himself, he thought. Even in marriage.
* * *
After just two weeks of living in her new home on the Amalfi Coast, Hallie felt she had fallen into sunshine and joy.
She sang all the time. Songs about dreaming of love and falling in love and being in love.
For no particular reason, of course.
Hallie was thrilled to have a home at last. A place, as she’d told her husband, where they could stay forever and ever. Even as formal as the villa was, with its endless gardens, the view was breathtaking from every window, looking out with a sharp drop to the sea. And when she went outside the villa’s gate, no one bothered her here. No paparazzi. No fashion bloggers sneaking pictures of Jack. Here, Hallie could just be herself.
It was true that Cristiano hadn’t been around much. He often worked eighteen-hour days, personally overseeing the final touches of the lavish new hotel in Cavello, on the opposite cliff, while still running his worldwide empire.
And if he’d broken her dinner rules a few times, disappearing from the house before dawn and not returning until well after midnight when she and Jack were asleep, well, she’d decided to bend the rules. He was busy. Hallie could understand. He’d given her what she wanted most—a home, and she’d tried to be flexible. She hadn’t even complained.
But she was relieved it was almost over. Tonight, the Campania Hotel Cavello would have its grand opening gala, and then Cristiano would be able to spend more time in their new home. They could finally be together as a family.
His constant absence had to be why, in spite of the beauty and comfort, this villa still didn’t feel quite like home to her. Maybe it would just take time. But she still didn’t have the feeling of home she’d had as a child, living with her family in the rickety wooden house in the mountains.
True, there was a staff of four to oversee the house and gardens. It sometimes made her uncomfortable having servants cook and clean and pull weeds for her, but she’d told herself she’d get used to it. She should be grateful. All she had to do was care for her baby, decorate her home as she pleased, bake cookies if she felt like it, and water any flowers she wished.
Still, in spite of being surrounded by servants and having Jack with her, sometimes her days felt lonely.
