Olivia’s eyes widened, but she couldn’t argue with him, obviously.
‘You would be welcome to stay at Villa Tramonto tonight, as well,’ Pietra offered as they walked from the church.
‘My grandmother’s villa,’ Luca explained to Olivia. ‘Nestled above Positano. You would love it, cara.’ He was so good at this! With effortless ease, he made it seem as though they shared a genuine connection. His voice was soft, romantic, so her skin pricked with goosebumps she was sure his dark eyes observed, before he turned to Pietra. ‘Another time. It is our wedding night, after all.’
Heat bloomed inside Olivia at the implication of his words—at how they would be spending tonight if they were anything approaching a real couple. But they weren’t, this was just make-believe. Soon they’d be alone again, and she’d be able to put some space between herself and this irresistibly charismatic man.
‘Of course, of course. Will you return to Rome?’
‘We will honeymoon in Venice for the weekend, actually.’
Olivia stopped walking, and for the briefest moment lost control of the vice-like grip she held on her cool exterior. Luca saw, and moved back to Olivia, putting an arm around her waist and drawing her close, so all she was conscious of was the hardness of his physique, the way her side melded to his perfectly.
‘A weekend in Venice?’ Pietra wrinkled her nose. ‘In my day, honeymoons didn’t count unless they lasted three months.’
‘In your day, it took a month at least to get anywhere interesting.’
Pietra laughed affectionately. ‘This is true.’
Olivia was struck by the natural banter between the two, and, despite the happiness of their mood, a chasm was forming in her chest, impossible to ignore. When she saw their easy affection, it was impossible not to dwell on how different her own upbringing had been, how tense and fraught with emotional complications. Only with Sienna could she be herself.
The afternoon light was blinding as they stepped out into the square, and a flock of pigeons flew past them, low to the ground, looking for treats left by the lunch-time crowd.
‘Here?’ Pietra gestured to a restaurant with tables and chairs lined up on the footpath, facing the square.
Luca turned to Olivia, surprising her with his consultation. ‘Yes. I reserved a table. Are you happy to share a drink with Pietra before we leave, mi amore?’
My love. Her heart skittled. He was very, very good at this. What was he like in genuine relationships? she wondered as she nodded and they began to make their way to the venue. Undoubtedly, his affection shone as hot and bright as the sun, but, if the gossip blogs were to be believed, his attention wandered faster than you could say supernova.
Her gown was a sleek white silk, ruffled across one shoulder, and as she entered the restaurant the diners paused and then clapped, their excitement at seeing a couple on their wedding day, on the celebration of the great Italian tradition of love, something they couldn’t contain. Luca lifted a hand in acknowledgement, and drew Olivia closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of her blonde hair. It’s all for show.
But that didn’t matter. Knowing it was fake didn’t stop the very real chain reaction spreading through her—heat seemed to bloom from the middle of her soul, so she was warm and almost dizzy, and desire flickered through her, lazily at first, and then, as he pulled away, more urgently, so she wanted to lean close and kiss him properly, as they had in the church, but this time with no one watching.
He held out a chair for Pietra first, then another. ‘Cara.’ He gestured towards it. She swallowed hard as she sat down, aware of his proximity, so sparks of lightning ignited when his hands brushed her bare shoulders. He took the seat opposite and their feet brushed beneath the table—an accident, surely.
Pietra was charming, intelligent, well read and politely inquisitive, asking just enough questions of Olivia without seeming as though she were prying, and the questions were all of a reasonably impersonal nature, so Olivia could answer without feeling that she had to speak to the nightmare that her home life had always been. Conversing with Pietra was a welcome distraction, allowing her to almost, but not quite, blot Luca from her mind. Except there was the subtle contact, beneath the table, his feet brushing hers whenever she moved, so wiping him from her consciousness completely was impossible. He sat back, watching the interplay, taking only two sips of his champagne and a forkful of cake, while Olivia enjoyed a full glass and then half of another, as well as her entire slice of cake. She smothered a hiccough as they stood, and Pietra embraced her again.
‘You’ll come to Tramonto soon? I would love to get to know you better.’
Guilt was now a full-blown stack of TNT in Olivia’s belly, ignited and ready to explode in a confession. She clamped her lips together, trying to remember what was at stake, and that Luca’s lie to his grandmother was none of her business. It was the only reason he’d agreed to this.
But misleading the beautiful, older woman felt like a noose around Olivia’s neck suddenly. She’s dying. Sadness dragged down Olivia’s heart. There was so much vitality in the older woman, it was hard to believe she was so gravely ill.
‘We’ll come as soon as we are able,’ Luca placated. ‘Where is Mario?’
‘Across the square.’
‘We’ll walk you to the car.’
‘I can walk myself.’ She batted the offer away with an affectionate shake of her head. ‘I live alone and still he thinks I can’t walk twenty paces without his help.’
‘She has an army of servants, in fact,’ Luca confided as they left the restaurant.
‘I’d like to walk with you,’ Olivia insisted gently, linking arms with Pietra.
Luca’s eyes met hers and her stomach dropped to her feet. They were going to be alone together soon, husband and wife. She looked down at her wedding ring, diamonds sparkling back at her, and her pulse shifted, lifting, slowing, thready and strong at the same time.
Luca opened the rear door to a sleek black car and Pietra gave them both one last hug before slipping inside. An unknown man—the driver, Mario, Olivia presumed—started the engine and pulled into the light afternoon traffic.