resist following with his gaze the scarlet glisten of the
long nails as they rested briefly in the valley between
the tight, high fullness of her perfectly shaped
breasts?
Her dress moulded to a waist so small that Jodie
guessed it must be the result of a tightly laced corset,
before curving lushly over rounded hips. Its hemline
revealed a pair of long, slender, warmly tanned legs,
whilst her feet, with their scarlet-painted toenails,
were adorned with the highest and most delicate pair
of strappy sandals Jodie had ever seen. She looked
like someone who was about to walk into the most
sophisticated and luxurious kind of setting there was,
instead of being here in this dilapidated fortress in the
middle of nowhere.
A look of open triumph lit the Italian woman's face
as she sashayed towards Lorenzo. But her brown eyes
lacked any kind of warmth, Jodie noticed, and as she
walked, talking quickly, her voice sounded harsh and
slightly flat, jarring against Jodie’s ears, rather than
warm and musical as she had expected.
She had almost reached them when Lorenzo held
up a commanding hand and said smoothly, 'In
English, if you please, Caterina. That way, my wife-
to-be will be able to understand you.'
The effect of his words on the woman was cataclysmic.
She stopped moving and turned to look at
Jodie, who discovered that she was being propelled
forward out of the shadows and anchored to
Lorenzo’s side by means of his almost manacle-like
grip on her wrist.
A furious, disbelieving female glare savaged Jodie
where she stood, followed by an equally furious outburst
of Italian.
'This way,' Lorenzo instructed Jodie, ignoring her.
'No!' The woman placed herself in front of them,
and said in English, 'You will not do this to me. You
cannot! Who is she?'
'I have just told you. My wife-to-be,' Lorenzo answered
her dismissively.
'No. You cannot do this.' The flat, metallic voice
was filled with fury. 'No. No!' She was shaking her
head from side to side so violently that Jodie felt
dizzy, but not one single strand of the immaculately
coiffed hair escaped. 'No,' she repeated. 'You will
not make such a nothing your duchessa, Lorenzo?'
His duchess?
'You will not speak so of my intended wife,' she
heard Lorenzo saying coldly.
Dear God, what on earth had she got herself into?
'Where has she come from? What gutter did you—?'
Immediately a look of haughty rejection stiffened
Lorenzo’s expression, but Caterina ignored it, grabbing
hold of his arm and insisting, 'Answer me,
Lorenzo, or I will…'
'Or you will what, Caterina?' he demanded unkindly,
removing her hand from his arm. 'As it happens,
Jodie and I met some months ago. It was my
intention to bring her to the Castillo to meet my
grandmother, but unfortunately she died before I was
able to do so. Knowing now, though, that it was her
dearest wish that I should marry, I intend to follow
the dictates of my own heart as well as fulfil the terms
of her will by marrying Jodie as soon as possible.'
Jodie blinked in disbelief as she listened to his entirely
fictitious account of their 'relationship'.
'You’re lying. None of that is true. I know the
truth, and I shall—'
'You know nothing, and you will do nothing.'
Lorenzo stopped her immediately, adding grimly,
'And let me warn you now against any attempt on
your part to spread gossip or rumours about either my
wife-to-be or my marriage.'
'You cannot threaten me, Lorenzo,' Caterina almost
screamed at him. 'Does she know why you are
marrying her? Does she know that it was your grandmother’s
dying wish that you should marry me? Does
she know that you—?'
'Silencio!' Lorenzo commanded harshly, his icy,
furious glare slicing down in front of her like a jagged-
toothed portcullis slicing into an enemy force.
'No. I will not be silent!' She swung round to give
Jodie a contemptuously hostile look. 'Has he told you
that the only reason he is marrying you is because of
this place? Because unless he marries he cannot inherit
it?'
This woman must surely be the person with their
own agenda he had spoken of earlier, Jodie thought.
Somehow she managed to stop her expression from
betraying what she was feeling — a legacy, no doubt,
from all those hospital visits, and her determination
not to let others see her in pain and pity her for it.
Was Lorenzo really prepared to marry a woman he
didn’t know simply to inherit this grim, crumbling
fortress?
'It is impossible that he would want to marry a
woman like you,' Caterina told her venomously.
Pain jerked through her. Caterina’s words were so
similar in content to the words Louise had said to
