Privately, Cordelia had been relieved. One father at a time was plenty enough.
Her nerves were all over the place as she got ready. When Sylviana had entered the bedroom, as sweet and as helpful as ever, Cordelia had heard the distant sounds of things happening downstairs, but as soon as the bedroom door was shut, there was complete silence save for their low murmurs as Cordelia dressed.
The redness of the dress was a direct challenge to that tomboy side of her that only ever felt comfortable in jeans, and she hesitated for a few seconds before Sylviana laughed and informed her, in very broken English, that she was going to look beautiful in it.
Really? Cordelia wanted to say. Even though I’ll be the tallest woman there, and that’s without the five-inch heels?
Italian women were dark and dainty and impossibly pretty, she had discovered, and she didn’t think that this charity gala was going to prove otherwise.
She didn’t glance at herself in the mirror as she got dressed. Sylviana was keen to do the make-up and Cordelia could think of nothing she wanted more because her ability to don warpaint was minimal.
She sat at the dressing table, closed her eyes and let the young housekeeper do her thing.
Her thoughts drifted. There was so much she had to tell her father. She had spoken to him several times on the phone but he was no good when it came to lengthy conversations on the telephone and she, for her part, had felt that there was too much she couldn’t tell him for their conversations to be natural and easy.
She hadn’t asked how the Doris connection was working out and he hadn’t volunteered any information. He’d talked about his catches for the day.
She dreaded to think what would happen when he learned that she, Cordelia, would be spending the majority of her time in Italy. Her brain ached from thinking about it all.
She was on a different planet when Sylviana told her to wake up.
‘Is ready, Signorina Cordelia.’
The reflection staring back at her in the mirror was a woman she didn’t quite recognise.
The contours of the face were the same, but the subtle application of make-up had given her aristocratic cheekbones and...were her lips really so full...her eyelashes quite so thick and long?
Her curls hadn’t been tamed but they had been styled to ripple down her back in a far more orderly fashion.
But the most amazing thing was a figure she had always taken for granted.
Tall, rangy, not particularly curvy had been transformed into six feet of elegance once the nude heels were on.
Cordelia turned round and giggled a little nervously as she reached for the gold clutch bag, which was completely empty save for her mobile phone in case her dad called while she was busy bustling downstairs.
She towered over Sylviana but she was still walking on air as she got accustomed to the heels and made her slow way down the staircase in the general direction of the noise.
Vast areas of the house had been transformed and when she glanced outside, she could see that the same applied to the grounds, with tiny lights everywhere, and lanterns hanging from the trees.
When it was completely dark, it would make a marvellous sight.
This was going to be her home. This magnificent, palatial house was going to be where their child grew up. If they stayed together, who knew? There might very well be other children.
They would have all of this at their disposal. The world would be their oyster. When Cordelia thought of the lovely but narrow life she had lived, when she thought back to her yearning to see what was out there, she knew that she had done the right thing in agreeing to marry Luca.
How could she have, in good conscience, denied their child this birthright?
She paused to glance at the frenetic activity in the hall. It would be chaos in most of the other rooms.
Where was Luca?
She didn’t think he would be found tasting the food to see whether any further tweaks were needed.
In fact, the thought of him doing that brought a smile to her lips because if there was one thing he had zero interest in, it was what went into the production of all those fine meals that were brought to him by his very talented and loyal staff. Food was always an amusing accompaniment to the main event, which was the wine.
She headed away from the kitchens and the fuss happening in that expansive wing of the villa.
She headed in the direction of his office because she knew that he would probably be working.
It got quieter. She thought of their lovemaking and that, too, made her smile and fired up something proprietorial inside her. He’d made that remark when he had surprised her chatting to the guy with the boat for hire at the lake. His woman. There were times when she had a similar feeling, which was that Luca was her man.
The office door was ajar when she got there. Where the rest of the sprawling mansion was floored with a mixture of wood and marble, a combination of cool and warm, the long corridor with the far more comfortable rooms leading off it, including Luca’s office, was carpeted.
Her steps were soundless. She couldn’t hear anything inside but she pushed open the door just to make sure he wasn’t there and froze.
Literally, she could feel a coldness washing through her, turning her to ice.
She was numb with it as she looked, open-mouthed, at Luca and the woman in his arms.
They didn’t see her. The office was in semi-darkness, as was the corridor down which she had walked, so there was no back light behind her as she watched and stared.
They were standing and they were...entwined. That was the only word for it. Entwined. He had his hands in the woman’s hair and Cordelia could
