Page 143 of A Diamond Deal
Alone, as she was.
It was ridiculous for her to be standing there, wishing, for reasons she couldn’t explain, that her husband were with her. Because he wasn’t really her husband. No matter what their marriage certificate said, or the articles in the paper, or the way they were in bed, nothing changed the fact that this was a purely practical marriage.
‘Signora Moretti?’ Her bodyguard appeared at her side, dark glasses covering his eyes. ‘You said you needed to be back at the apartment by four?’
She glanced down at her watch, surprised to realise she’d lost hours in her slow, reflective exploration of the city.
‘Goodness, yes. Thank you, Pietro.’
‘This way,Signora.’
The Italian tutor the agency had sent was a young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties, who spoke Italian as his native language, as well as flawless English, French, German and Russian. His name was Christiano, and he was, Amelia came to realise, a perfect choice for someone like her. While she had once held a basic grasp of Italian, she’d actively worked to blot it out, so, to all intents and purposes, she was a complete beginner.
And yet, her palate had been formed around the Italian language, so the slide from vowels to consonants to more vowels was not hard, and her accent, according to Christiano, was excellent.
They covered only the basics, but Christiano suggested a daily lesson, for the first month or so, and Amelia readily agreed. Anything to fill her time, give her a sense of purpose, and have her life be less lonely.
He smiled brightly when he left, and Amelia walked around the apartment practising the verbs he’d taught her that day.
As she was getting ready for dinner, her phone began to ring—her grandmother’s name appeared on the screen. ‘I’m sorry for interrupting your honeymoon, my dear,’ she said, so something twisted inside Amelia. It hadn’t even occurred to her that they might have had a honeymoon. It would have been normal, if their wedding were real.
‘Can we have dinner next week?’
‘Would lunch suit?’ Amelia asked, blushing to the roots of her hair when she made the suggestion. Because dinners had become synonymous with Massimiliano, with his slow, determined seduction of her. Though it had been only two nights, she wasn’t ready to give away that time together, yet.
‘Of course,cara. Text me a time and place and we’ll be there.Ciao.’
‘Ciao,’ Amelia mirrored, before disconnecting the call, and staring at the clock for perhaps the tenth time that hour. She groaned, because it was all so pathetic and nineteen fifties of her. Somehow, in the space of less than a fortnight, she’d become a woman who obsessively waited for her husband to get home from the office. And he wasn’t even her real husband.
He took her to yet another exclusive restaurant with exquisite views and food. Every time Massimiliano looked at her, she felt her pulse explode, and in the back of her mind she wondered if this would be the night. If this would be the night he drew her into his arms and made love to her, so she knew the pleasure of his complete possession, finally.
She didn’t want to dull her senses, so she’d had only one glass of champagne at dinner, yet a new sort of courage fired through her when they walked into his penthouse that evening.
‘I want to see you,’ she said, dropping any preamble.
He turned to face her slowly, eyes glinting like black opals.
‘I beg your pardon?’
She hesitated for the briefest second. ‘I want to see you naked. It seems only fair.’
‘Next you’ll be asking to tie me up.’
‘Are you saying I couldn’t? Isn’t that a double standard?’
A smile quirked his lips. ‘Yes.’
‘Good thing I’m only talking about undressing you, then.’
His eyes bored into hers for a long beat and then he nodded, slowly. ‘So, what are you going to do about it?’
Her heart rate kicked up a gear as she strode across to him, her fingers slightly unsteady as she pressed against the lapel of his jacket and eased it down his warm, masculine body. She felt his gaze on her the whole time. Instead of unnerving her, it gave her strength and courage.
Her fingers found his button next, her gaze shifting to his quickly before returning to his chest, with a harsh intake of breath.
‘I’ve never done this before,’ she said, needlessly, as she unfastened one button, then another.
‘Undone a shirt?’
