‘You’ll have to try to be kinder,’ Sybil warned Gianni on her way past him again. ‘Jo has a huge heart.’
Gianni had said he loved her with such panache even though they both knew it was a lie, Jo reflected as she left the distraught woman with her friend, who had made many apologies for her, dismissed as unnecessary by Jo. People got drunk, upset, sometimes forgot themselves and said stuff they shouldn’t. That was life even at a luxury bridal occasion at Belvedere. But the other woman’s pain had wounded Jo. She couldn’t help wondering how many other women her bridegroom had hurt over the years and supposed that there would be quite a few with disappointed hopes. Well, she wasn’t going to be one of them, she promised herself. No way was she going to fall for him!
Impervious to Sybil’s advice, Gianni only waited until the limousine door had closed on them to say, ‘What on earth possessed you to take that woman aside after she had insulted you?’
‘She didn’t insult me. She was drunk, hurt, bitter, jealous.Yourdoing,’ Jo murmured with succinct bite. ‘That’s the other side of the coin to your lifestyle.’
Gianni slung her an incredulous appraisal. ‘We’renotdiscussing this.’
‘Of course not.’ Jo had expected exactly that response, but she hoped she had made him think about the damage that could result from his enjoyment of his freedom and a wide variety of women.
‘You should have stood back and allowed my security men to handle her in a more appropriate manner,’ Gianni imparted curtly.
Jo said nothing. She inclined her head, dug a fat book out of her new capacious leather bag in her favourite shade of electric blue and read all the way to the airport.
Gianni breathed in deep and slow, mastering his temper.Hislifestyle? His former lifestyle had been destroyed the minute he put that wedding ring on her finger and he did not appreciate having his past sins thrown in his teeth the same day. In any case, it was not as though he planned to emulate his father and keep a mistress, an act that had broken his mother’s heart. Even if he didn’t love Jojo, he would be a good husband. At least she hadn’t preached at him about his sexually adventurous past. Evidently her sympathies were with the woman. But he hadn’t wronged anyone! He hadn’t seduced Milly or done anything questionable with her either! For a long few minutes, Gianni quietly simmered.
Eventually, he registered that for once in his life, he had been naïve to believe that he could marry Jo Hamilton without experiencing moments of frustration. In comparison to him she had led a very clean, God-fearing life. They had lived at opposite ends of the worldly spectrum and naturally cherished very different views. Yet, he still respected Jojo more than any woman he had ever met. He liked her brand of refreshing honesty, her quick intelligenceandher strong streak of compassion. Another bride might have thrown a scene about her perfect day being ruined by a former lover of the groom, might, indeed, have taken her resentment out on him. Jojo had done neither. No, she had empathised with the other woman. Unbelievable, he thought wryly, and yet it had happened...
Jo had never travelled in a private jet before, indeed had only enjoyed a handful of trips abroad, all relating to school organised trips. Now she was seated in an opulent cabin furnished like a very superior office with comfortable cream leather seating, even recliners. Magazines had been brought to her and a menu of refreshments tendered by an efficient steward. Like so many of the rich trappings of Gianni’s life, it felt like another world to Jo.
‘We’re heading for my mother’s family home on Isola di Cristoforo,’ Gianni explained as they left the jet in Italy only to board a helicopter. ‘It’s an old property and the island enjoys a rich history with several ancient ruins. I thought you would enjoy it.’
‘Is that a crack about the money pit that is now your responsibility?’ Jo joked, because temporary repairs to secure Ladymead were already taking place. Her relatives were now discussing whether or not they would move out during the extensive renovations because Gianni had offered them a village house for the duration of the work to be done.
‘Not at all. I merely thought it would give you an interest for a honeymoon that’s not really a honeymoon,’ Gianni remarked.
Jo reddened and wished she had kept quiet, because of course theirs wouldn’t be the traditional honeymoon that most couples enjoyed.
She craned her neck but only saw a dizzying view of mature trees as the helicopter descended. When she emerged, she glimpsed stone walls through the tree trunks.
‘It’s a medieval castle,’ Gianni told her with amusement. ‘My mother’s father owned the island and my mother told me that he revelled in his fortress on the hill as a symbol of his power. I’m a rare visitor and most of the island is a nature reserve now and open to the public. I never knew him. All my grandparents were gone by the time I was four years old. I envy your close ties with your grandmother.’
‘That’s because Gran’s really been my mother,’ Jo explained as they arrived at giant double doors standing open in the sunshine in readiness for their arrival. ‘But I’m probably closest to Sybil. My great-aunts were still quite young when Gran got married and the sisters have always lived together.’
‘My father thought it was a rum set-up in your household—three sisters and one man.’
Jo shrugged. ‘It worked for all of them. The house was large enough. Grandpa was a bit like a father to Sybil and Trixie, although Trixie was already a teenager. Families stayed together in those days. Grandpa married Gran knowing her sisters came with her.’
‘People still mention him. Your grandfather was well liked.’
An older woman with greying hair greeted them in Italian in the medieval hall with its stone walls hung with imposing family portraits. Gianni took charge of showing Jo upstairs, opening an oak door on an elegant room furnished with a scarlet-draped four-poster bed. Flowers were scattered across the quilt and beautiful ivory blooms were massed in several vases throughout the large room.
Jo’s sapphire blue eyes widened. ‘My goodness. It’s lovely.’
‘It’s been set up for our wedding night. I’m sleeping next door,’ Gianni informed her as her luggage was brought in. ‘I understand that dinner will be served in an hour on the terrace.’
Jo went pink. Gianni stalked towards her, spectacularly lithe, lean and darkly handsome, his stunning dark golden eyes welded to her hot face. ‘But when our marriage becomes normal, I will demand that you put on that beautiful dress and those gloves again just for me one evening,’ he imparted silkily.
Her blue eyes flew wide, and her generous lips curved. ‘It’s a deal,’ she almost whispered, relieved by his attitude.
‘We’ve got everything going for us,cara. You married me in the wake of that scandal and I appreciate that,’ he admitted in a driven undertone as if such an admission did not come easily to him.
‘And I appreciate you being...understanding,’ Jo selected awkwardly.
‘Kissing still on the menu?’ Gianni surveyed her with dark eyes glittering below a lush canopy of black lashes and her heart skipped a beat.
‘Of course,’ she muttered tightly, barely able to get air into her lungs.