that this was a vital part of his schedule. She wondered if he’d done it only to please her, but while he murmured many passionate words when they were alone in the night, he never spoke a tender, loving word by day, and his manner, although pleasant, didn’t invite her close. Sometimes it was like living with two men.
When they returned home she became more involved in the running of Bella Rosaria. She was wise enough to let Luigi keep the reins in his experienced hands, but subject to his advice she visited her tenants, discussed their problems, and began to make decisions. The revenues that came in were her own. Renato refused to make any claim on them, and even insisted on giving her a wife’s allowance. She would have liked to refuse but didn’t because she suspected that he would be hurt. It was no more than a suspicion, because she had to guess his feelings, but she sensed that she’d got this one right.
Because of his reticence she couldn’t speak out about her fast growing feelings for him. She guessed that it had been growing for some time, but she only discovered its strength when he had to be away for a week. She wouldn’t have thought it possible to miss one person so much. It wasn’t just her senses that longed for Renato, but her heart craved him night and day. It was their first separation since their marriage and it was almost unbearable.
It was nothing like the gentle pleasure of loving Lorenzo, which now looked more like a feeble infatuation with every day that passed. This love was savage and all-powerful, wiping out lesser feelings, leaving her helpless and desperate.
Their reunion was overwhelming, and somehow she was sure she would find the moment to hint at her feelings and hear something about his own. But his most enthusiastic talk was of deals he had done, and there was something in his cheerfulness that kept her at a distance.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AS WITH any properly conducted business arrangement the terms of their marriage were adhered to on both sides. Renato had promised Heather a place in the firm, and one day she came home from shopping to find him regarding her with a teasing look.
‘How would you like to take a trip for the firm?’ he asked. ‘I need someone to fix up some deals in Scotland.’
‘But isn’t that Lorenzo’s territory? In fact he’s in England right now-’
‘He’s got some unexpected problems that are going to keep him there,’ Renato broke in hastily. ‘If you take over Scotland it will ease the pressure on him.’
She was ambitious for the chance. Even so, her first thought had been, I’ll have to be away from him. But Renato seemed delighted at the thought of her going.
Next day she was on a flight to Edinburgh. She booked into a newly opened luxury hotel on Princes Street, and spent the next few days selling Martelli produce all over the most exclusive parts of the city, including the hotel itself. Her trip was a triumphant success, but it was spoiled for her by a persistent ache of loneliness that wouldn’t go away.
On the last day she called home just to hear his voice, but he was out and wouldn’t be back that day. The violence of her disappointment almost winded her. She pulled herself together and went out to work, forcing herself to concentrate, and ending up with a full order book that she was eager to show Renato.
But she saw him a lot sooner than she expected.
Returning to the hotel, she was pulled up short by the sight of Renato and the manager sitting together in the bar. Her first reaction was stunned delight. They rose to greet her, all smiles, and her husband complimented her on the deal she’d done with the hotel.
‘Your wife is a true Martelli, Renato,’ the manager said. ‘She drives a hard bargain.’
‘And not only here,’ Renato agreed. ‘All over town, apparently.’
So that was it. Her brief hope that he’d been missing her died stillborn. He was here as a businessman, finding out the skills of his newest sales rep, ‘all over town’.
While the manager was ordering drinks, Renato looked at her glowering face and observed, ‘I’d hoped you’d be more pleased to see me.’
‘I don’t like being checked up on,’ she muttered.
He seemed disconcerted, then pulled himself together. ‘It’s not exactly that-’
‘I think it is,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I don’t blame you, but let’s drop it.’
No more was said. In the evening they were the manager’s guests for dinner, and the two men toasted her. That night in their suite she displayed her order book and received her husband’s wholehearted praise. She tried to look behind his eyes, but he wouldn’t let her, and when he embraced her, smiling, and said, ‘Let me show you just how pleased with you I am,’ she stopped worrying about anything else but the delight to be found in his arms.
They stayed another two days, while she finalised her deals. He made a few suggestions but otherwise didn’t interfere. On the last night they celebrated over a meal which they had served in their bedroom, ‘for the sake of convenience,’ as they both delicately put it. And when the time came they were glad there were only a few steps to travel.
As they lay languorously entwined in each other’s arms afterwards he murmured, ‘You’re not really annoyed that I came here, are you?’
‘I thought you had important business to see to?’
‘What could be more important?’
‘Ah, yes, I might have been losing money hand over fist, mightn’t I?’
‘You forget, I first met you as a demon saleswoman,’ he reminded her lightly.
But this sparring wasn’t enough for her. Surely now, when they lay so close, she could nudge him towards greater frankness?
‘But what do we really know about each other?’ she asked. ‘In bed, a good deal. Outside, very little.’
‘Nonsense. You know a lot about me. Devious, conniving, manipulative-I forget the other words you used but it sounds as though you know me very well. Besides-’ he became serious, ‘-in bed a man and a woman find their greatest truth.’
‘Yes,’ she said wistfully, ‘but not their only truth.’
‘How much do you think the other truths matter?’
‘Not much now, maybe. But later-as the years pass-’
‘Leave the years to take care of themselves,’ he said easily.
She made a cynical sound that would have been a snort if she hadn’t been a lady. ‘That from you-the man who has to plan everything years ahead.’
He didn’t say anything for a while, but at last he asked in a strange voice, ‘Are we talking about Lorenzo? I’d rather not, but if so, then yes, I admit it. I try to plan too much. Your marriage to him would have been a mistake. I knew that the day we went out on the boat, but it was too late. What could I do? Seduce my brother’s fiancee?’
‘
He grunted. ‘What would you like to bet against my chances?’
She thought of the sensations that had almost drowned her as he rubbed oil into her back. But more than that was the moment of tender understanding between them as she held his wrist and looked at the scar. No passion then. Just an alarmed awareness of each other as people with thoughts and feelings.
‘Well?’ he persisted. ‘If I’d forgotten my honour that day, would you have forgotten yours?’
‘It was different. I was in love with Lorenzo.’
‘Love is a complication,’ he agreed. ‘Even when it’s an illusion.’
She longed to remind him of his own words about love-‘I believed in things I don’t believe in now’-and ask if he still meant them. Surely their closeness must have made him feel differently? But her courage failed at the last moment.
‘I guess we’ll never know the truth,’ she said lightly.
‘Probably not. But I knew how badly I wanted you, and I kept my distance. When Lorenzo took flight I was
