Hot Nights with...the Italian. Lucy Gordon

he still loves her,’ Marisa said fiercely. ‘I don’t suppose you can imagine what it would be like for him, being forced to see her each day under those circumstances.’

      ‘Perhaps I am not as unimaginative as you believe,’ Renzo said, after another pause. ‘However, I still do not understand why you should wish to involve yourself—or me.’

      ‘For one thing it’s successful,’ she said. ‘So it would be a good investment.’ She hesitated. ‘For another, being part-owner will provide me with an interest—even a future career, which I’m going to need some day.’

      His brows lifted sardonically. ‘It does not occur to you that some wives seem to find a satisfactory career in their marriages—their families?’

      ‘But not,’ she said, ‘when they know the position is on a strictly temporary basis.’ She paused. ‘Shall I go on?’

      ‘Please do. I assure you I am fascinated.’

      ‘Thirdly,’ she said, ‘Corin really needs the money. He would be so thankful for help.’ She looked away, biting her lip. ‘And I would be grateful too, of course.’

      ‘Ah,’ he said softly. ‘And what form would this gratitude take? Or is it indelicate to ask?’

      It was her turn to flush. ‘I think it’s a little late for delicacy.’

      ‘Then tell me.’

      She stared down fixedly at her empty plate. ‘I’ll go back to Italy with you—as your wife. And give you—whatever you want.’

      ‘However reluctantly,’ he said softly. ‘A new feast day should be proclaimed. The martyrdom of Santa Marisa.’

      ‘That’s unfair.’

      ‘Is it?’ His mouth twisted. ‘As to that, we shall both have to wait and see.’ He paused. ‘But this is the price of your—willing return to me?’

      She lifted her chin. Met his gaze unflinchingly. ‘Yes.’

      ‘And your uncomplaining presence in my bed when I require it?’

      ‘Yes.’ She forced herself to say it.

      ‘Incredibile,’ he said mockingly. ‘Then naturally I accept. If I can agree to terms with this Corin, who needs another man’s wife to fight his battles for him.’

      She was about to protest that that was unfair too. That it was not just for Corin, but herself, and her life after marriage, but she realised it would be wiser to keep quiet. So she contented herself with a stilted, ‘Thank you.’

      Renzo got to his feet, and she rose too. As she went past him to the door he took her arm, swinging her round to face him.

      He said unsmilingly, ‘You set a high price on your favours, mia bella. So this is a bargain you will keep. Capisci?’

      She nodded silently, and he released her with a swift, harsh sigh.

      But as she followed him out of the room she realised that she was trembling inside, and she thought, What have I done? Oh, dear God, what have I done?