‘Marcello would approve that you are to marry Daniele, and Morante Group’s board are relieved by your sensible choice of husband.’ Gianluca smiled. ‘Daniele will keep you safe and prevent another kidnap attempt.’
Paloma chatted to the elderly man for a few minutes, but after he had walked off, she felt puzzled that he’d known about her kidnap ordeal. She had not told anyone what had happened in Mali, and she supposed that Daniele must have told Gianluca. One thing was certain: she would lose the support of the board of trustees if she did not marry Daniele. They believed that Morante Group would be safe with him to guide her, and over the next few months it would be up to her to prove she was a worthy successor to her grandfather.
As for the wedding happening next week, Paloma’s heart lurched. She had forgotten that Isola Cappracio was a popular wedding destination and the process for marrying there was simpler than in other European countries. The island was a sovereign state in the Adriatic Sea, located towards the coast of Croatia. Historically, Isola Cappracio had been fought over by Italy and Croatia, until the fourteenth century, when it became an independent state controlled by the Da Verano family. However, the principality had continued to have strong links with Croatia, and the mother of the current ruler, Prince Dragan, was Croatian.
‘My brother is a lucky man.’
The voice came from close by Paloma and pulled her from her thoughts. She looked uncertainly at the man who she’d noticed had been watching her and Daniele during dinner. ‘Brother?’
‘Daniele Berardo is my half-brother,’ the man amended with a faint smile. He was not as tall or as physically imposing as Daniele, and nothing like as good-looking, but Paloma noticed a slight similarity between the two men’s facial features. ‘I am the Conte Farnesi, but please call me Stefano,’ he said. ‘And you of course are Paloma Morante.’ He looked across to the far side of the ballroom, where Daniele was chatting to some guests. ‘I came to the ball hoping to have a chance to congratulate you and Daniele on your forthcoming marriage.’
Paloma frowned. ‘Does he know you are here? He didn’t mention you or suggest that he could introduce you to me.’
Stefano sighed. ‘The truth is that I have only met my half-brother a handful of times at social events. I am eight years younger than Daniele, and I guess we have little in common. He made it plain that he has no time for me. I can’t really blame him, seeing as I inherited the title that should by rights be his.’
‘It’s not your fault that your grandfather made you his heir and overlooked his eldest grandson,’ Paloma murmured.
‘Obviously, Daniele has told you about our family situation. He blames our mother for leaving him behind when he was a child, but the story is more complicated than he knows.’ Stefano offered Paloma another tentative smile. ‘It is clear to see that you and Daniele are in love. Perhaps marriage will help to soften his attitude towards his family.’
Paloma wondered what Stefano would say if she revealed that Daniele was marrying her in the hope of impressing his mother, who had ignored him for most of his life.
‘Can I get you some more champagne?’ Stefano offered.
She gave him a rueful smile. ‘I have learned from experience that I’m less likely to embarrass myself if I stick to one alcoholic drink in an evening. I was about to go outside for some fresh air.’ She glanced around the ballroom. ‘Are you here with a wife or partner?’
‘To be honest, I am trying to avoid the twin daughters of Visconte Prizzi. My mother has decided that, now I am twenty-eight, I should think of marrying, and she is of the opinion that either of the twins will be a perfect wife for me.’ Stefano grimaced. ‘If you don’t mind, I will accompany you.’
Daniele resisted the urge to look at his watch again. It had only been a couple of minutes since he’d checked the time. He was edgily aware that half an hour had passed since he’d seen Paloma walk through the doors at the far end of the ballroom that led out to the terrace. With her had been the Conte Farnesi.
Daniele gritted his teeth and forced himself to smile at the woman standing beside him. Vanda Prizzi, or possibly she was Venetia—the twins were identical in appearance and the tediousness of their conversation—had been prattling on for what felt like hours. A few years ago, the young woman would not have given him the time of day. But the Prizzi family had suffered badly in the recent financial crash and, cynically, Daniele supposed that a self-made multimillionaire was suddenly an attractive proposition.
‘People weresosurprised by the announcement of your engagement to Paloma Morante,’ Vanda or Venetia trilled. ‘I heard that her first marriage was a disaster. It was expected that when she married again she would choose someone with...’ She hesitated.
‘Blue blood?’ Daniele suggested sardonically. As far as he was aware, no one knew that he was related by blood to the aristocratic Farnesi family. His mother never mentioned publicly that she had an older son, and he had kept it secret that she had abandoned him because he was ashamed by her rejection.
The young woman flushed. ‘Well, yes, a husband with a title. Papà says that the old Italian families are in danger of disappearing.’
The heir to one particular noble family was likely to disappear very soon, if he had anything to do with it, Daniele brooded as he looked across the ballroom and caught sight of his half-brother dancing with his fiancée. Did Paloma think that Stefano Farnesi was better husband material than a gruff ex-soldier? A marriage between two of the most illustrious aristocratic families would be popular with Morante Group’s board of trustees.
Possessiveness was not an emotion Daniele was familiar with, but as he watched Paloma smile at Stefano, cold rage dropped into the pit of his stomach. His half-brother was exactly the type of high-born member of the social elite that Marcello Morante would have been delighted for his granddaughter to marry. Stefano had received the best education at an English public school, and his exquisite manners were the result of his privileged upbringing in Italian high society.
Daniele had joined the army when he was eighteen. While his half-brother had learned how to mix the perfect martini cocktail, he’d trained to use an assault rifle in a combat zone. Since the injury to his leg had put an end to his military career, he had created his own wealth and success using his IT skills, but he was in a different league from Paloma and Stefano, who were old money.
‘What is your opinion?’ Vanda—Daniele was fairly certain this twin was Vanda—asked him. He realised that he had no idea what she had been talking about.
‘I agree, absolutely,’ he murmured, guessing from the woman’s startled expression that he had given the wrong answer. ‘Please, excuse me. I promised the last dance to my fiancée.’
He strode across the ballroom, and his expression must have warned of his foul mood, for Stefano looked distinctly nervous when Daniele clamped his arm around Paloma’s waist. ‘You seem to be obsessed with taking what is mine,’ he said curtly to his half-brother.
‘On the contrary, I am delighted by your engagement to Paloma, and I wish you both every happiness.’ Stefano gave a stiff nod before he swung round and walked away.
Daniele looked down and his eyes clashed with Paloma’s flashing blue gaze. ‘Why were you so rude? Your brother is a nice guy.’
Jealousy was a poisoned arrow in Daniele’s heart. ‘Is that why you slunk out of the ballroom with him earlier? I suppose you appreciate the Conte’s air of refinement.’
‘I went outside for some air and chatted to Stefano for a few minutes. It was perfectly innocent. You certainly seemed to appreciate Venetia Prizzi’s voluptuous charms,’ she snapped. ‘Your eyes were nearly falling into the front of her dress.’
‘Careful,cara, or I might think you are jealous,’ Daniele drawled. The band struck up the final tune of the evening, a slow, romantic number. He pulled Paloma closer, ignoring the way she held herself rigid. ‘Smile, or the guests will think we have had a lovers’ tiff.’