Salvatore greeted them all in laconic Italian. The note of tension in his voice was gone now. She heard her name mentioned—but only her first name. The man who was with the blonde returned the greeting first. Lana couldn’t follow what he said, but she could certainly read the look in his eyes as his glance went towards her with well-practised masculine appreciation.
He came towards them, hand outstretched. Automatically Lana offered hers, and was not that surprised when it was lifted to his lips and kissed with a gesture that was part clearly exaggerated and part sending a definite message.
But not to her. He dropped her hand and said something to Salvatore in a low, throwaway voice that held a wealth of masculine appreciation.
‘Thank you, Luc,’ came Salvatore’s dryly sardonic reply—in English. ‘Your vote of approval means everything to me.’
Luc Dinardi—their host, as Lana knew from Salvatore’s briefing—gave a low laugh, not in the least put out.
Now the other man was coming forward, also with a hand outstretched. This time, though, Lana’s hand was not subjected to any practised Latin Lothario treatment, but simply a brief but firm handshake.
‘Vito di Vincenzo,’ he introduced himself, speaking English. ‘And my wife, Laura.’
The full-figured woman stepped forward, her smile friendly. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘How lovely to meet you.’
Her English was perfect, and Lana quickly realised she was a compatriot.
Then the blonde was surging forward, her brown eyes alight. ‘You look absolutely fantastic!’ she exclaimed enthusiastically, her English highly accented. ‘You absolutely must tell me who the designer is! Of course, only someone with your height could get away with it!’
Her bright eyes danced.
‘We had no idea Salva was bringing his latest! And there’s no need for him to tell us anything about you—you’re a model! You just scream it!’
She gave an insouciant laugh and ran on unstoppably.
‘Come and get a drink and tell me all about how you and Salva come to be together! I absolutely adore gossip and I want to be the first with this! How long has this been going on...when did you meet, and how...and what are you going to be doing in Rome now you’re here?’
‘Don’t let Stephanie drown you with her chatter,’ said Luc, the blonde’s partner, humour in his voice. ‘As you’ll have realised, she never lets anyone reply anyway!’
The blonde exclaimed something in indignant Italian, as Luc enquired what Lana would like to drink, indicating the wide choice. Lana was about to give her usual answer of sparkling mineral water, when she abruptly changed her mind, remembering afresh that her starvation diet days were over.
‘Sweet vermouth spritzer, please,’ she said.
Luc busied himself mixing it for her, and Lana found Laura beside her. The blonde had zoomed up to Salvatore, to interrogate him.
‘Don’t mind Steph,’ Laura said in a low voice, with a smile in her voice. ‘She’s completely harmless, but...’ there was a slight warning in her grey-blue eyes ‘...she means what she says about loving gossip! And she adores passing it on.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Lana said. ‘Not that there is anything about me to cause gossip. Yes, I am a model—it’s a bit of a giveaway when you’re my height with my thinness.’
Even as she spoke Lana felt conscious that she was being disingenuous. In fact, there was a whole heap about her presence in Rome with Salvatore that would make explosive gossip. But there could not be a breath of suspicion about it...
‘Not to mention the show-stopping looks!’ Laura was saying now, smiling as Luc handed Lana her cocktail. She smiled back at Laura, liking her, and feeling again uncomfortably conscious of the deception being practised upon her...upon all of Salvatore’s friends. She was falsely here as his wife. But there was nothing she could do about it except go along with it as best she could.
She took an appreciative sip from her drink as Salvatore came up to her. He was smiling at her, but she could see a watchful look at the back of his eyes. He addressed Laura, asking after her little boy. Lana saw the other woman’s expression soften.
‘That’s a fatal question to ask me, Salva,’ she said warmly. ‘I can go on for hours about just how perfect he is!’
He laughed, and Lana took the opportunity to ask how old her son was.
‘Three, going on four, and he is just adorable!’ Laura enthused. ‘I only hope that when—’ She broke off, her glance going to her husband. ‘Vito, shall we...?’
Her husband came up to her, put his arm around her waist. ‘Let’s,’ he said. He held up his glass. ‘My friends, now that Salva has joined us this is the perfect moment to tell you all that Laura and I are hoping to present our perfect son with a perfect brother or sister!’
He’d spoken in Italian, but Lana knew enough to understand what he’d said. Everyone promptly burst into hearty congratulations. Stephanie was particularly voluble in hers, rushing up to Laura to kiss her cheek and exclaim excitedly. Lana felt her elbow taken, and she was guided slightly aside by Salvatore.
‘You followed that?’ he asked in a low voice, and she gave a quick nod. In the same low voice he went on. ‘I won’t steal Vito and Laura’s thunder right now, but when we sit down I’ll make our announcement, so be prepared. No one seems to have noticed the ring on your finger,’ he said dryly, ‘or mine.’ He paused, his expression changing. ‘But that is not surprising... Stephanie’s absolutely right. You do look totally fantastic.’
‘Well, that was the intention,’ Lana answered evenly, but the admiring way Salvatore had spoken made her nerves flutter. Then she realised she had better get used to praise and admiration from him—after all, she was his brand-new bride, and it would be expected of him. In public, anyway.