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‘Ehi, capo! You’re back!’
Swinging round, Vicè raised his hand, his smile widening as a young man with streaked blond hair, sleepy brown eyes and an equally wide smile strode towards them.
‘Matteo. Ciao!’
‘I was expecting you two days ago.’
‘What can I say? I got distracted.’
As the two men embraced Imma watched in confusion.
Capo? Was Vicè his boss?
She tried and failed to picture any of her father’s employees talking to Cesare in such a casual, effusive manner. But all she could think about were those emails she had read and his treatment of Alessandro.
She felt her stomach clench. She still wasn’t ready to go there, and she was almost grateful when Vicè turned towards her, reaching out for her hand.
‘Come here, cara.’
He pulled her closer, his dark gaze on her face.
‘This beautiful woman is the reason I got distracted. Imma, this is Matteo, the hotel manager here and a good friend. Matteo—this is Imma, my wife.’
Her pulse jumped. Vicè was looking at her—really looking at her—so that it felt as if he was reaching inside of her, claiming her for his own.
‘My wife,’ he repeated softly.
It was an act, she told herself. It was all for show. Only she couldn’t stop her stomach from turning over in an uncontrollable response to the intimacy of his words and the flame in his eyes.
For a split second time seemed to end. Just stop.
She forgot where she was and why she was even there. Around her the air seemed to thicken into an invisible wall, and inside the wall was Vicè, his skin dappled with sunlight, his dark gaze pulling her closer...
‘You got married!’
She blinked as Matteo grabbed Vicè in a one-armed hug.
‘Che bello! That’s fantastic news. I’m so pleased for you both.’
‘Thank you, bro. It was all a bit di impulso.’ Glancing over at Imma, he grinned. ‘What can I say? She swept me off my feet.’
Imma forced her mouth into a smile. Vicè made it all sound so plausible—no wonder Matteo was beaming at them in delight. But his congratulations were warm and genuine, and it felt wrong accepting them under such false pretences.
She felt a flash of anger. How was she going to do this for a whole year? Smile and lie to every single person she met? It was a daunting prospect, and the wider implications of what she’d agreed to do made her heart cramp.
She felt Vicè’s hand tighten around hers.
‘Matteo, can you get the bags brought round?’
‘Sure, boss.’
‘Come on.’
He turned and, still holding her hand, led her away from the hotel to a narrow path that disappeared into the lush undergrowth.
‘I’ll show you to the villa.’
She let him lead her between the citrus trees and beneath the boughs of myrtle and laurel, but as soon as they were out of sight she jerked her hand away.
