Her own smile wavered a little as they walked the length of a barrel-vaulted gallery. So Rozzano needed to be dominant. Sophia drew herself up proudly. No man would rule her. If he thought she would be a pushover, he was in for a nasty shock!
âActually,' he said silkily, âI think it might be a good idea to keep our wedding a secret from everyone but Alberto till the latest possible moment.'
âOh? Why?' she asked shortly, her mouth set in a stubborn line.
âIt's occurred to me that no one would be able to interfere. We can decide on ten bridesmaids or none and dress them in cream silk or Lycra with purple spotsâ'
âI think you have a bridesmaid fixation,' she said tartly. âHow do we get people to turn up?'
âEasy. We invite them to a grand celebration ball.' His eyes danced with amusement. âImagine, Sophia! They'll be astounded when you arrive in your wedding dress!'
âWhat fun,' she observed drily.
He chuckled, not recognising her sarcasm. âNo one will forget our wedding! And I've just realisedâthere'd be one great bonus. The press wouldn't get wind of it and we'd be able to stop our wedding day from becoming a fiasco.'
âYou're very thoughtful.'
He gave her a suspicious glance but she'd found a serene expression from somewhere and he nodded in satisfaction. âAgreed, then?' he murmured lightly.
Too lightly. Despite his casual manner, it was obvious that he desperately wanted her to fall in with his plans. And perhaps it did serve her purposes. If no one knew they were to be married, her shame would remain a secret if the wedding were cancelled.
âWhy not?' she replied, attempting a carefree shrug.
But Sophia's stomach was churning with unnamed fears. If he was rushing her into marriage, if he wanted it to be concealed from everyone he knew...was there something she didn't know about, a reason for the haste and his desperate desire for secrecy?
Please, no! she begged the Fates. Don't let him deceive me! If he should prove to be false... She clutched at her breast, her eyes huge with distress. She'd die of misery,
she thought dramaticallyâbut she'd make sure she crippled him first!
âThe salon.' Totally relaxed now, he opened a pair of double doors. âWelcome,' he said, as if he were the host and she the guest.
Faintly annoyed by that, she entered the high-ceilinged room and gasped in awe.
âLovely, isn't it?' he murmured with more than a hint of possessive pride. âMake yourself at home. May I get you a drink?'
She looked to where he stood, decanter already in his hand. As if he owned the place, she thought, and then wiped that from her mind. âNo, thank you,' she said politely. âI think it might give a bad impression if I breathe whisky all over my grandfather at our first meeting.'
âYou're right!'
He was grinning, pouring himself a drink as if he didn't have a care in the world. Why should he have, when she'd obediently agreed to everything he'd suggested? She gritted her teeth, determined to hide her anger.
Desperate to do something, she walked to the tall windows. They ran from floor to ceiling and opened onto a small stone balcony above the Grand Canal, which glittered in the bright sunshine.
From where she stood she could see the dome of the Salute church and clusters of exotic black gondolas tied to barber-striped poles outside ochre-coloured palaces. It was an incredible setting, of breathtaking beauty.
Her hand had been resting against the heavy oystercoloured drapes framing the window. Almost without thinking, she let her fingers trail over the sensual silk, her newly heightened senses revelling in their voluptuous opulence.
Behind her, she heard the faint hiss of Rozzano's breath.
Her back stiffened. So he didn't like her touching DâAntiga possessions! After all, he'd spent years treating them as his own...
Like an arrow, the treacherous suspicion shot into her mind again, only to be fiercely dismissed. If she and Rozzano had any chance together, she had to stop inventing reasons for his behaviourâespecially when she had no hard evidence.
Taut with nerves, she deliberately set about touching a few more items. A bronze statue. An intricately inlaid marble table. The gilded frame of a huge oil painting depicting Adam and Eve in swirling draperies and little else. And as she did so the pressure in the room seemed to hitch up a notch or two.
Her stomach swooped. He hated her being there! Touching what he regarded as
his
things!
âCarpaccio,' he said tersely, coming to where she was studying an oil painting. His tension was so palpable that it electrified the air.
Her heart fluttered frantically against her ribcage. âI know nothing about painters. Is he famous?' she asked politely, wishing her grandfather would appear and rescue her from this vile atmosphere. And once, she thought wanly, she'd loved being alone with Rozzano!
âOne of the masters. Do sit down,' he said politely.
Host to guest again! âThank you,' she answered coolly, heading for a comfortable armchair.
He began to sift through letters on a gilded antique table, opening one or two, stuffing the others into his pocket. And then he took up the classic male pose of ownership, standing in front of the marble fireplace, one
elbow casually on the mantelpiece as he sipped his drink and looked at her inscrutably from under his lashes.
Sophia hid her mounting anxieties and crossed one elegant, Vianni-shod ankle over the other. âI'm beginning to enjoy luxury. I feel really at home here,' she announced, injecting a proprietorial note into her voice to test him.
Rozzano's brows drew together in a hard black line and it gave her no pleasure that she'd apparently hit a raw nerve. âGood. You certainly seem very composed,' he clipped out.
âIt's the clothes,' she replied casually. âThey have confidence sewn into the seams. I probably look as good as I ever will.'
âCaptivating,' he agreed, a faint curl to his mouth. âI'm having difficulty keeping my hands off you.'
It wasn't noticeable, she thought tartly. And wanted to weep. Her eyes pricked with hot tears. She didn't want doubts or mysteries. Just Rozzano. She'd have it out with him, clear the air... Her spiky lashes lifted but he was listening to something inaudible to her, his head cocked on one side.
âYour grandfather's coming,' he said suddenly. âI recognise that creaking floorboard!'
And he was across the room, opening the doors to a nurse who was pushing an elderly, white-haired man in a wheelchair.
âRozzano!' Alberto DâAntiga held out his arms and the two men embraced fondly, murmuring to one another with affection.
Sophia watched, her emotions skittering this way and that. The love between them was plain to see and it gladdened her aching heart.
Despite her grandfather's frailty, it was obvious that
he had once been an imposing man. He was tall, and sat erect like a soldier on parade, and he reminded her so much of her beloved father that her eyes became misty.
âAnd you must be my Sophia!'
Smiling gently at the warmth in his tone, she went to him, knelt beside the chair and allowed herself to be wrapped in his thin arms. For a long time he held her, emotion shaking his gaunt frame. And she couldn't speak, couldn't say any of the words she'd planned, the little phrase of Italian she'd learnt to please him. Whatever his titles and noble ancestry, he was her only living relative and his affectionate welcome had won her heart already.
His hand lightly stroked her hair. âAh! So like your mother!'
Sophia pulled away a little, sitting back on her heels and blinking back the unshed tears. âFlatterer!' she reproached, emboldened to tease him by the lively twinkle in his eyes. âMother was beautifulâ'
âAnd so are you,' he assured her, touching her flushed and happy face.
âI think,' she said in amusement, âthat you're horribly biased.'
With an immaculate linen handkerchief, he dashed away the tears that had fallen to his cheeks and sighed. âForgive an old man's weeping, Sophia. Seeing you means so much to me. I believed that I was the last of the D'Antiga bloodline. It broke my heart that I had no descendants.'
âWould you both excuse me?' Rozzano fingered his trilling mobile phone.
âOf course! All of Venice must know you've returned!' Alberto said indulgently. His doting eyes followed
Rozzano as he strolled to the far end of the salon and answered the call.
âYou love him very much,' Sophia ventured. It was as if, she thought ruefully, she wanted someoneâanyoneâto praise him, and thus to allay her fears.
âHe has become my son,' DâAntiga said simply. He squeezed her hand. 'I was very lonely till he came here. And now he has brought you to me! So generous, so typical of him when he stands to lose everything because of you!'
Sophia froze. Her hands tightened convulsively in her lap. âGracious! How?' she jerked out.
âMy dear, he married little Nicoletta, a distant relative of mine. She was the only remaining D'Antiga apart from me. And then she died.'
Sudden tears filled her eyes and she stared at her trembling fingers to hide them. Rozzano hadn't told her that Nicoletta had been a DâAntiga. Her mouth twisted. How economical with the truth he was!
âI knew he'd married and his wife had died in childbirth. I didn't know about the connection,' she said, hardly able to breathe.
âNicoletta was my last hope,' grumbled her grandfather. âIt was an excellent union between our two families! And it brought me so much happiness when Nicoletta said she was pregnant.'
She struggled to comment. âIt was a tragedy that she died so young. It must have been a terrible shock for you all.'
Her grandfather's eyes were pained. âYes, but Rozzano felt the blow the hardest. He's always been so strong and capable, coping with emergencies, tragedies... He was very brave when his parents died in a boating accident out on the lagoonâand he was only eighteen. He took
over the business as if he'd been doing it all his life and became a father and mother to Enrico. But when Nicoletta died he was inconsolable. He went to pieces and we didn't see him for days after the funeral. I've never known a man to look so deeply shocked. It was as if his world had come to an end.'
She felt very sad. This was confirmation that Nicoletta had been Rozzano's great love. How could she compete with that?
Stiffly she got to her feet, knowing the truth behind Rozzano's interest in her. âSo that's what you meant, Grandfather. Rozzano became your heir!' she said steadily, amazed that her bitterness could be kept so strictly in check. But she didn't want to hurt the old man. He'd be devastated to know what Rozzano had been planning.
âOf course. But now,' said her grandfather tenderly, catching her cold, lifeless hand, âyou will inherit the D'Antiga fortune instead. See how honourable he has been, not to discourage you?'
âThe extent of his honour amazes me,' she fudged. Her heart was breaking. He'd really fooled her! How could he! How
dared
he?'
Alberto chuckled. âKeep looking over your shoulder, Sophia!' he joked. âWe must make sure Rozzano doesn't push you into the lagoon!'
She laughed, though the sound rang false to her sensitive ears. âHe wouldn't do that,' she declared as brightly as she could.
Why would he, she thought angrily, when he could marry her instead and get a nursery full of children first, and secure his rights to the DâAntiga fortune? It was no wonder that he'd been agitated at the solicitor's, when he'd first learned that her mother had had a child!
And how clever, how quick-witted he'd been to see
that he had the answer to his problems right in front of him, in the guise of a simple country girl who'd be flattered and only too thrilled to be courted by such a handsome, passionate prince!
Damn him! she cursed, so consumed with anger that she could hardly breathe. Then she realised her grandfather was speaking, and for his sake she tried to pay attention and
not
to throw daggers of hatred at the lying, cheating deceiver silhouetted like a lounging Adonis against the tall window.
But when she turned back she kept the image of Rozzano in her grieving heart and it wouldn't go away, no matter how hard she tried to replace it.
â...wouldn't behave like that. You have judged him well. He is too kind, too generous,' the old man was saying softly. âTrust him,' he urged Sophia. âHe is the finest man. You can rely on him to help you in the running of our business.' He shook his head in mock bewilderment. âOnce I could understand it all, now it's too complicatedâand I'm allergic to computers!'
Unwilling to worry her grandfather, she stretched her face into a smile. âGive me a bit of paper and a pen any day!' she agreed cheerfully.