And every time, he made love to her—whether tenderly or with a fierce passion that left her sore for hours later—Pia couldn’t stop the words of love tumbling from her mouth. Because it was only there she found the Raphael she had fallen in love with. Only there that he opened up to her. Only there was he not a stranger.
Three weeks later now, her period had started, and then stalled after a day. Pia had no choice except to ask one of Raphael’s sisters to recommend a gynecologist and claim a ghastly yeast infection to silence the instant speculation written on all four of his sisters’ faces as well as on Portia Mastrantino’s.
Raphael was out of town. He wasn’t flying in until a couple of hours before their engagement party. And again, Pia found herself battling the most inexplicable urge to cry.
No, not inexplicable anymore, if she were honest with herself.
Something had changed, she now realized since the night at the opera. Since Raphael had received that phone call? Since she’d agreed to marry him?
No, since she had told him that she had fallen in love with him.
It clicked like the missing piece of a puzzle that had been tying her up in knots.
That was it, the moment when everything had changed. The moment Raphael had begun withdrawing from her.
Why? She hadn’t demanded anything of him. She had never said it with an expectation that he would reciprocate. She had only said it because she loved him. God, she loved him with everything in her and she wanted him to know it. She wanted him to know that she appreciated him, that she understood why he would probably never say it back. That she loved him just as he was.
Had he lost interest in her because of that? Had her appeal dimmed as a result?
She had heard talk among his mother and sisters that Allegra was back in Milan. That he’d been seen with her at a new restaurant. For a split second, Pia’s faith in him had wavered. Even when she prodded, he barely said two sentences to her about Allegra.
Did he want to be back with his ex? Had she paled in comparison to the famed beauty?
No, something in her whispered.
Raphael was not some fickle boy she had a crush on. Raphael would never break her trust in that way. He thought her naïveté, her lack of sophistication was attractive. That it made her unique.
Yet, all afternoon, the question of his withdrawal gnawed at her soul.
Her fingers burning, her stomach in a constant knot, Pia watched in dismay as a small battalion of workers arrived in the huge open area in front of the house and began putting up a snow-white marquee of humongous proportions.
Fifteen minutes later a party organizer, an army of catering vans and then another crew of workers to decorate the tables arrived.
She hurriedly called to Portia, who had put the party together, that there must be some mistake. Only to be informed that there wasn’t. Two hundred and fifty guests were arriving to celebrate Raphael Mastrantino’s engagement to Giovanni Vito’s granddaughter.
The board of Vito Automobiles and all of their families, major shareholders, Gio’s extended family, all of the million Mastrantino cousins and their families—it seemed the entire world wanted to see Raphael and his new fiancée.
“They all want to make their nods to Raphael. I mean, they always knew this would happen, but now it is more…definite, si?” Portia had said over the phone.
When Pia had whispered that she didn’t actually understand, Portia said “When Gio declared you his granddaughter and his heir, it created problems for my Raphael.”
“But why?”
“Because Giovanni and Raphael both own thirty-five percent each of VA’s stock. With your appearance, it became clear that whoever married you would inherit that stock. So there were some who thought Raphael would not remain CEO for long. My son is a ruthless businessman and not everyone likes his principles, his practices. Some thought they would betray him and make good with the man Gio chose for you.” Knuckles white, Pia gripped the phone, nausea rising through her throat. “But now that Raphael is marrying you, everyone wants to cook favor with him again.”
The phone dropped from Pia’s hand and clattered to the ground while she grappled with the truth.
Pia heard Portia’s stilted English still coming from the phone, saw the decorators pull out rare orchids in droves, and it was all a haze as she walked back to her bedroom.