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Six weeks she’d been back in his world and still she stole his breath. When he’d suggested she stay on he’d been thinking in terms of days. Weeks had turned into more than a month, yet he wasn’t ready for her to go. And not just because Calogero was still at large.

What did it mean that living with her felt like all the best times of his life rolled into one? Did his years of celibacy and tunnel-visioned focus on work skew his perception? Or was it something else?

‘Cesare. Did you hear what I said?’

‘Sorry, Francesco. My mind wandered.’

Strange. In the past his mind had been like a steel trap whenever business was discussed.

His cousin laughed. ‘I can’t blame you. Not with your wife looking so charming.’

‘She is, isn’t she?’

His wife. Funny how the word didn’t disturb Cesare as it had in the days when he couldn’t wait to be free of her.

Technically she was his wifefor now. But for the first time in his life, he was living in the moment. Content to take pleasure in Ida without worrying about the future.

The company was doing well. The management team was focused and energised by new opportunities, and he could step back a little. Calogero hadn’t raised his ugly head, though Cesare knew he’d be seething at the fact Ida and Cesare were together while there was no benefit to him. Soon, with luck, the various police investigations into Calogero’s crimes would bring results.

When they did would Ida leave straight away?

Cesare gripped his glass tighter, his palm suddenly clammy.

‘I’m glad the marriage worked out after all,’ Francesco said in a low voice.

Cesare nodded but said nothing. What would he say? That it was only temporary? That what they shared was more like a steamy affair than a marriage? That the divorce papers were already signed?

He drained his glass, vaguely noticing the wine wasn’t as smooth as he’d thought.

Ida would return to the UK when it was safe.

Cesare would, in some distant future, find a wife who’d help him carry on the Brunetti line. It would be a sensible, convenient marriage.

Too often he’d seen his father chase the fleeting mirage of romance, confusing lust with love. Seen how it turned him into a fool. Cesare had no intention of following in his footsteps.

Ida laughed at something her companion said, the sound as light as the bubbles in her glass. Her head tipped back, drawing Cesare’s gaze from her slender throat to her soft lips and that stunning red-gold hair. She had the colouring of a renaissance angel, but Ida was far more vibrant and alluring.

She held her own in this crowd, as she had at every event they attended. Cesare actually relished attending them with Ida beside him. Instead of networking, Cesare had relaxed and enjoyed the company and the art, since it was mainly performance and other art-related events they chose to attend.

He’d had to smother laughter when some of the worst gossips quizzed Ida about where she’d been since the wedding. She’d dealt with them firmly and with apparent ease, making it clear she didn’t fear anything they or the press might say about her. That had garnered respect and, while some regarded her doubtfully, she’d generally been welcomed.

Not that it seemed to matter to Ida. Knowing how she’d struggled these past years and how much of an outsider she must feel, Cesare felt his admiration soar.

He’d been pleased to see signs of a genuine connection between Ida and some of his friends. Like the woman beside her, a talented designer.

The other woman moved away, and Ida turned. Their eyes met with a palpable crackle of connection. Cesare held out his hand to her.

His cousin groaned theatrically. ‘Now I’ve got no hope of keeping your attention.’

Cesare turned to him. ‘Serves you right for spending the evening talking business.’

Francesco goggled and Cesare felt almost sorry for him. Once Cesare would have been only too happy to discuss commercial plans at any time. He’d used to attend social events primarily to promote Brunetti Enterprises.

‘I’ll come to the office tomorrow. You can tell me about it over coffee.’

‘I’ll look forward to it.’ Francesco leaned down to kiss Ida’s cheeks as she joined them. ‘I don’t know what you’ve done to my starchy cousin, Ida, but he’s a changed man. I like it.’ He winked and whispered something in her ear before nodding to Cesare and strolling away.

Ida’s laughing green eyes surveyed Cesare as he drew her close and draped his arm possessively around her. That felt better. The taut feeling in his chest eased as she nestled closer.


Tags: Annie West Billionaire Romance