Blame him for not loving her back.
‘Aren’t I playing the part of new bride to your satisfaction? Are you disappointed I didn’t want to be carried over the threshold to satisfy the photographers? Were you hoping I might have a nice bath and then slip into something more comfortable?’
‘Of course not—’ Rico started, but Catherine hadn’t finished.
‘You’ve got what you wanted, Rico. I’ve kept up my end of the deal. But don’t for one second expect me to be happy about it.’
Even as she spoke Catherine regretted her harsh words. She didn’t want to be like this, didn’t want to be mooching around like a surly teenager, making this uncomfortable situation worse for both of them. But it was as if she couldn’t help herself.
Antonia’s dreadful accusations were still buzzing in her ears. How she longed to escape for a few days, to check out of the world and digest all that had happened, assimilate it into some sort of order—something she could deal with. But at her own bidding she was a mother now. And not one part of her life was familiar. Her possessions had been cleared from her flat in a single day, compassionate leave arranged from work with one phone call—even her name was different: Catherine Mancini.
Catherine Mancini, who lived in a huge, imposing house, with servants and nannies. Catherine Mancini, who had a baby to care for. Catherine Mancini, wife to a husband who under any other circumstances wouldn’t have deigned to marry her.
‘Leave Lily,’ he said again, and the tone of his voice told Catherine he wasn’t about to be argued with. ‘If you wake her now it will take ages to settle her, and we’re both exhausted.’
‘Fine.’ Her mouth barely moved. ‘Maybe I will have a bath after all, and then I think I’ll go to bed. Could you show me where I’ll be sleeping?’
‘Of course.’ He led her up the stairs, his hand resting gently on tense shoulders that stiffened even more as he pushed open the large mahogany door. He registered her sharp intake of breath as she eyed the vast bed, the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that took in the shimmering Melbourne skyline. ‘I will even run a bath for you.’
Run a bath. He made it sound such a supreme effort, and for Rico it probably was, Catherine mused as he walked across the room. No doubt this was a first. She watched as he stood for a moment by the vast sunken spa, eyeing the bottles of oil, then flicking a switch. She stood, seemingly transfixed by the swirling bubbles but struggling against a surge of panic, wishing more than Catherine had ever wished in her life that she could do it. Could slip off her clothes with the confidence his numerous other lovers had undoubtedly had, smile up at him through her eyelashes and suggest he join her. But she felt as if her feet had been nailed to the floor, a shadow of what Rico undoubtedly expected his wife to be—a mere solution to a problem, a wife of convenience in every sense.
‘There must be another room.’ She ran a tongue over her dry lips, watched his eyes narrow, the muscles on his face quilting as he turned to face her. ‘I mean, it might make things easier for both of us…’
‘Easier?’ His voice was menacingly quiet and she had to strain to catch it over the noise of the running water. ‘You think my wife sleeping down the hallway will make things easier? Tell me how so, Catherine?’
‘I think it would be easier if we had a bit of space. We both know this isn’t a true marriage; we both know we don’t…’ She swallowed nervously. Lies were hard work, even at this dangerous stage.
‘Don’t love each other?’ Rico finished the sentence for her, the words snapping out through his taut lips, and the air crackled with tension as Catherine gave a nervous nod, consoling herself that it was a lie by omission only.
To love each other took commitment from both sides, a commitment Rico had vowed he would never give. But though she loved him she hated him too—hated his presumption, his arrogance, the way he walked over people he should care about.
The questions that had saturated her mind since the wake could be voiced now; answers were needed before she could even contemplate continuing this charade. Forcing herself to take a calming breath, finally she spoke. ‘Is it true what Antonia said? Did you know that the business was going to take off when you bought out your brother and father?’
He didn’t answer for a moment, and when he did despite his blithe response Catherine knew she’d hit a nerve. ‘I knew it was a possibility.’
‘But Antonia said—’
‘Forget Antonia.’ His voice was like the crack of a whip, his nonchalance disappearing as Catherine pressed on. ‘She is poison—evil. I told you not to listen to a word she says.’
‘And that’s supposed to be enough for me?’ Catherine flared. ‘You tell me not to listen and I’m supposed to comply? Am I not allowed to form my own opinions, Rico? Are you going to remind me again of the good old days, when wives took their husbands’ opinions as gospel? The good old days when wives meekly complied with the master’s orders?’
‘You are twisting my words; I am telling you that woman is no good,’ Rico growled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards him to force her to listen. But Catherine pulled her hand away, standing tall and proud, looking him square in the eyes.
‘I heard you the first time, Rico.’ Catherine was shouting now. ‘And you can scream it from the rafters, swear it to be true, but so far all I see is a grandmother with her back to the wall—a grandmother fighting to raise her orphaned grandchild.’
‘Step-grandchild,’ Rico corrected, but Catherine refused to buy it.
‘Now who’s twisting words, Rico? We’ll never be Lily’s biological parents, yet that doesn’t mean we won’t love her as if we were! And you still haven’t answered my question. Did you pay off your brother and father knowing that the business was about to explode into an empire?’
‘It was years ago.’ Rico’s hands were working furiously now, tossing in the air with exasperated gestures, and again he reminded her of a lion—but trapped now, pacing the cage restlessly, his simmering anger ready to explode. ‘Why the hell do we have to drag it up? Why go into things that don’t have any bearing on the here and now? They didn’t have to sell.’
‘The same way I didn’t have to marry you?’ She gave a low, mirthless laugh. ‘I bet you ensured that they had no choice but to sell—the same way you gave me no
choice. And despite what you say it does have a bearing on us. How you treated your family in the past is a pretty good indicator of how you’re going to treat me in the future, Rico. There’s a lot of unfinished business there. A lot of pain—’
‘Oh, there’s pain,’ Rico said darkly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. ‘But go on, Catherine. Finish what you were saying.’
She swallowed hard. Something in his voice merited deeper exploration, but she had to see this through, could not be dragged from the path again by Rico’s clever bidding. ‘I’m not sure I want to be married to a man who could cheat his own family.’