Virgin On Her Wedding Night

that she had contrived to live without Valente for two weeks. She was finding an extraordinary peace in lying within the circle of his arms, for he was so rarely still and quiet. She could rejoice covertly in the wonderful smell of his damp bronzed skin and the glorious intimacy of being with him again when, five years ago, she had truly believed that hope and joy were gone for ever. And if it was different now, because he didn’t want her love, was anything perfect? Was she planning to give up what they had for a life in which she would be bereft without him? In that moment, she thought not.

‘We’ll be landing in less than an hour, belezza mia. We need to move.’ Valente shifted away from her with a sigh that she wanted to believe signified disappointment at that restricted time-frame.

Before he could leave her side, however, Caroline was determined to satisfy her curiosity on certain issues. ‘There are a couple of things I want to ask you about.’

‘Agnese?’ Valente guessed with alarming accuracy, turning his tousled curly dark head to shoot her an infuriatingly knowing glance. ‘Yes, we were lovers-and now it’s over because I have you.’

‘So why was she coming to see you?’

‘She was hoping that a month of marriage would have changed my mind and that I would be ready to take her back. Agnese doesn’t lack self-belief.’

‘Oh…’ His candour surprised her, for put under pressure Matthew had lied and lied and lied again, so that it had become hard for her to accept anything at face value. ‘Were you in love with her?’

‘It was more a convenient arrangement than a love affair.’

‘You’re saying that she was your mistress?’

‘Yes, I paid her bills, and she… Surely you don’t need me to explain any more?’

Involuntarily, Carole was shocked. ‘But it sounds so cold-blooded!’

‘It suited us both. Not everyone wants emotional ties and promises, Caroline,’ he imparted with sardonic cool.

‘I have just one more question,’ Caroline continued, half under her breath, studiously ignoring that wounding gibe. ‘What’s your involvement with Bomark Logistics back home?’

Valente went as still as a man who had been told a ticking time bomb was attached to him. ‘We’ll talk about that in depth when we get home,’ he responded with measured cool.

Caroline was bewildered by that response. In depth? What was he suggesting? Of the two issues, she had ironically considered the topic of Agnese Brunetti the more controversial and the least likely to lead to a satisfactory conclusion. She had even thought he might refuse to satisfy her inquisitiveness. After all, his relationship with Agnese before their marriage was really none of her business. The question about Bomark Logistics had only been asked out of casual curiosity. Why was he holding back on giving her an immediate explanation?

As they completed their trip back to the Palazzo Barbieri, Caroline became increasingly disturbed by Valente’s preoccupation. The tight lines of his bold profile and the grim set of his mouth made her tense, and uneasy as well. It was an anti-climax when Koko darted out of the shadows in the entrance hall and leapt at Caroline in welcome, only to struggle to be set down again so that she could enact the same welcome for Valente as well.

‘How on earth did you manage to persuade her into liking you?’ Caroline exclaimed, astounded to see her formerly hostile pet now winding round Valente’s trouser legs with a purr as loud as a steam engine.

‘You were gone. I had no competition. She was lonely,’ Valente pointed out, lifting the little Siamese and stroking her in reward for her enthusiastic greeting.

In the glorious drawing room, with the crimson light of the dying sun filtering in through the balcony doors across the muted antique colours of the beautiful Persian rug, he finally faced her. ‘How did you find out that I had a connection with Bomark Logistics?’

Caroline explained, and it transpired that Valente had not even noticed the tiny incident in which she had picked up the revealing document when the wind dropped it at her feet.

‘So, you don’t know anything,’ Valente pronounced, his ebony brows drawing together, the angles of his lean hard features saturnine in the dusk light. ‘I could lie. And I am tempted to lie, because I know you won’t like the truth. But in terms of business I did nothing wrong. It’s a dog-eat-dog world out there.’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’ Caroline pressed in growing bewilderment. ‘Have you bought out Bomark Logistics, or something? Did you think I would be annoyed at that because the firm put Hales out of business? I’m not that foolish…’

Valente surveyed her levelly. ‘I set up Bomark from scratch three years ago. I own it, and I am responsible for every move the firm has made since then.’

The blankness of shock had wiped all expression from Caroline’s face. ‘But that’s not possible. You own it? Have always owned it? I mean why…three years ago?’

‘I opened another haulage business in order to compete with Hales and had your manager, Sweetman, head- hunted into a London position,’ Valente clarified with reluctance.

‘But why?’ Caroline demanded again. ‘You actually wanted to put my family out of business?’

Valente nodded confirmation in silence. He had not expected her to be quite so shocked. A devious woman would have recognised the strings he had pulled and understood why without asking. Caroline, however, clearly did not comprehend what he was trying to explain.

‘I don’t understand. I know you must have been very angry and bitter when I didn’t turn up to marry you five years ago,’ she murmured tightly. ‘But why would you go to such appalling lengths to target a small family business?’

‘I blamed your family for what happened as much as I blamed you.’

A stricken look crossed Caroline’s visage. ‘But you knew there was no way I could have made it to the church. You knew how sorry I was that my message didn’t reach you in time,’ she reasoned feverishly. ‘I know my parents behaved badly, and that you were treated unfairly, but I don’t believe that we did anything that could excuse you for deliberately setting out to destroy our business.’

Valente was wondering why she was saying that there had been no way she could have made it to the church. He was exasperated by his ignorance of the excuses she had no doubt employed in that letter, but determined not to expose it. As for this message she was now mentioning for the first time: he did not believe there had ever been one. Her family had wanted rid of him by any means, and ensuring that he was left standing like a fool at the altar had been a very effective method of deterring him from seeking any further contact.

‘I wanted you all to pay for what you did,’ Valente confessed.

A humourless laugh was wrenched from her soft pink mouth. ‘You don’t think three and a half years of marriage to Matthew Bailey was penance enough for me?’

Valente wore a guarded look that gave nothing away. ‘As far as I knew at the time you were enjoying a happy marriage with your childhood sweetheart. It was only after Bailey’s death that I learned that it hadn’t been quite that perfect.’

‘But Matthew and I were never childhood sweethearts!’ Caroline argued with spirit. ‘Where did you get that idea? We were friends-casual friends. I thought a lot of him, and I respected his opinion. I admit that I was entirely taken in by him until I became his wife. But there was never any romance between us-either before or after we married. I married him on the rebound.’

‘The phrase “childhood sweethearts” came from your own father’s lips. Joe came to see me the week before our wedding and accused me of having come between you and Matthew and ruining your life. He said it was Matthew whom you really loved and he tried to buy me off.’

Caroline was aghast. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that Dad had done that? I had no idea.’

‘There had already been enough bad feeling, and you were living on your nerves. I didn’t want to put you under any more pressure and I was confident that you loved me,’ Valente admitted, with a bitter twist to his handsome mouth.

‘I did love you…I did!’ Caroline proclaimed in a shaken tone. ‘But you never responded to my letters. You never phoned. You don’t do emotion or forgiveness, do you? The very fact it’s taken almost two months for us even to discuss the past says it all. You just scrubbed me out of your life like I didn’t matter to you!’

His lean strong face was darkening with indignation. ‘What did you expect after leaving me standing at the church? It would be a rare man who could forgive an offence of that magnitude.’