With an effort Ida finally managed to swallow, though it felt like her throat closed around shards of glass.
‘You’re exaggerating.’
Her grandfather was awful. No one knew that better than her. But a murderer?
‘Which part of the truth don’t you like, Ida? That I don’t want you in my bed, or that I won’t play your grandfather’s games and pretend he’s honest and respectable?’
She wasn’t going to beg for Cesare in her bed.
‘I know he’s not honest.’ He was ruthless and vicious, but he wasn’t a murderer. Was he? She frowned. ‘But he’s not a murderer. And you’re mistaken about me.’
‘Am I?’ Cesare put his glass down and folded his arms. The movement accentuated his height and the breadth of his chest as if he deliberately tried to intimidate her. ‘You mean he forced you into this marriage?’
Ida sucked in much-needed air then finally scraped out a response. ‘No, he didn’t force me.’
Because she’d seen marriage to Cesare as her chance to escape. She’d believed they could build something special together. Because she wanted him and thought he wanted her.
More fool her!
The stabbing pain was worse now, carving through her middle.
She looked into that handsome, severe face, noting the sneering curl to Cesare’s sculped mouth and the flare of chiselled nostrils, as if he detected a foul smell. And those eyes... There was no mistaking that expression for anything but distaste.
Suddenly Ida felt ashamed of the hopes and plans she’d woven around this man. Of the tenderness she’d harboured and the budding attraction she’d felt.
More than budding. She had a full-blown crush on the man.
Correction. She’dhadone. It wouldn’t survive this, for which she was thankful. Imagine pining for a man who looked at you like you were dirt under his polished shoe!
She’d been sucked in by what she realised now had been polite manners and his determination not to reveal his true feelings until the deed was done and they were married.
Because you were naïve.
Because he was the first man since your dad to be gentle and kind to you.
Because you’re a late bloomer and you’ve never had a chance for romance.
‘You admit you married me of your own free will?’
Fury spiked and she welcomed it. It was better than the devastating feeling that everything inside her was collapsing into an aching void.
‘Are you hard of hearing, Cesare?’
He blinked and she saw his pulse throb, quick and hard in his jaw. He hadn’t expected her to challenge him.
A lifetime’s training told her she shouldn’t have spoken so. Provoking or even inadvertently annoying a man who was bigger and stronger than you was a huge mistake. But as she tensed, ready for his response, she saw him draw a deep breath and lower his shoulders, as if seeking calm.
Ida stared. The way Cesare reined in his anger when she argued back told her hewascompletely different to her grandfather. He was irate but instinct told her he’d use only words as his weapons.
Stupid to feel a burst of admiration at the knowledge.
‘So you admit you married by choice. You were greedy for what I had and you didn’t. The aristocratic title and connections. And the chance to be a spy for your grandfather in the enemy camp. He thinks he has the upper hand now, but he’ll want to know I’m toeing the line at all times, so everything goes just as he wants.’
Ida considered denying it. But that would leave her needing to explain why shehadagreed to marry a man she barely knew.
She felt like she’d shrivel up and die if Cesare realised she’d acted on sheer romantic dreams and a desperation to escape.
He’d scoff at the first. As for the second, he thought her in cahoots with her grandfather. He’d never believe her protestations. Even if by some miracle he eventually did, he’d never understand.