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"Our arrangement was that we would remain married
for one year," he reminded her curtly. "To change
that now would give rise to gossip and speculation,
and although Caterina has left she could decide to
challenge the will if she thought she might win such
a case. I Don’t want that."
"Twelve months seems such a long time."
"No longer than it was when you agreed to remain
with me for that period."
But then she hadn’t known what she knew now,
had she? Then she hadn’t known that she would be
in danger of falling in love with him, that every extra
day she had to spend close to him would increase her
danger. But she could hardly tell him that.
"What will happen with the Castillo now?" Jodie
asked, knowing that there was nothing she could say
to explain her reluctance to stay with him that would
not give her away.
"I am arranging for several experts to come out and
inspect the paintings so that we can discuss how best
to restore them, and I also intend to put in hand the
necessary work to convert the Castillo into a centre
for rehabilitation and artistic excellence. I have spoken
already with several of Florence’s master guilders
and other craftsmen— But none of this can be of
much interest to you," he told her tersely.
Jodie dipped her head so that he couldn’t see how
much his careless words had hurt her. But of course
he didn’t see her as a part of the future he was pla
Why should he?
What was the matter with him? Lorenzo derided
himself. Just because he felt a co
that he had never experienced with anyone else, a
closeness to her, it didn’t mean anything. And it certainly
didn’t mean that he was falling in love with
her. He could feel himself tensing, outwardly and inwardly,
as though he were trying to lock out his
thoughts and feelings — and not just lock them out,
but squeeze the very life out of them as well.
Because he was too afraid of them to allow them
to exist? For centuries, out of ignorance and prejudice,
man had sought to control what it feared by
destroying it. Was he doing the same? If he was really
so afraid of the effect Jodie was having on him, then
why hadn’t he seized the chance she had offered to
get rid of her? Because he wasn’t afraid at all. Why
should he be? What was there to fear? Jodie meant
nothing to him, and when the time came for them to
go their separate ways he would be able to do so
without a single qualm or regret.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THEIR flight from Florence by executive jet, followed
by a helicopter pick-up from Heathrow to their hotel,
had been accomplished with so much speed and in so
much luxury that Jodie felt as though she were taking
part in some kind of TV extravaganza rather than real
life. They"d been escorted from the helicopter to their
suite with a focused concentration on their comfort
that had bemused her and made Lorenzo look even
more saturnine and arrogant than ever.
The stu
Cotswold stone hotel had originally been a private
house. Now owned by a consortium of wealthy entrepreneurs,
who had originally bought and remodelled
it as an exclusive private members" country
club, it catered for the wealthy and demanding. Its
Michelin-starred restaurant was fabled and notoriously
selective about its clientele, its spa was a favourite
haunt of the A-list celebrity set, and it was
the favourite venue for private events in that same
set. A coterie of very wealthy clients were said to
have set up a private gambling club there, in which
fortunes were lost and made, and the world"s style
critics had declared it the place they would most like
to be.
From the welcoming hallway, with its antiques and
air of a country seat home, to the decor of their suite,
complete with vases of exactly the same flowers she
had had at their wedding and the latest Italian busi-
ness magazines, everything breathed exclusivity and
attention to detail.
This truly was a different world, Jodie thought, as
their personal butler assured her that her clothes
would be unpacked and pressed within an hour.
"I’ve arranged for us to have a hire car delivered
here today, so that I can familiarise myself with the
area ahead of the wedding," Lorenzo remarked.
"John’s parents are holding an open house party
tonight. The whole village is invited."
"We shall be attending?"
Did she really want to? Somehow the heat that had
scorched her pride and driven her to long to be able
to stand tall amongst those who knew her with a new
man at her side had cooled to an indifference that
made her wonder why she was here at all.
John, Louise, and the pain they had caused her, had
lost their power over her emotions. The life she had
known and lived before she had met Lorenzo felt so
distant from her now. Already she was making new
friends in Florence; she was developing new interests,
a wider outlook on life. She could not see herself
coming back here at the end of her year of marriage
to Lorenzo. But what would she do? Stay in Florence?
No, that would be too painful.
Painful? Why? But of course she already knew the
answer to that question. She had suspected it the night
he had told her about the history of Castillo’s hidden
paintings. And she had known it the evening she had
sat in the Castillo garden and listened to him telling
her about his childhood, his feelings.
"I’m not sure that this is a good idea any more,"
she told Lorenzo uncomfortably.
"Why not? Because You’re afraid of what you
might learn about your own feelings?"
"No! There isn’t anything to learn about them. I
already know how I feel." How true that was!
She still loved this blind fool of a man who had so
stupidly chosen another woman over her, Lorenzo
thought angrily.
"You are afraid that when you see this ex-fiance.of
yours you will be so overcome that you won’t be able
to stop yourself from ru
to take you back?" he suggested grimly.
"that’s ridiculous," Jodie objected. "Apart from
anything else, I’m a married woman now."
"And You’re na..ve enough to believe your wedding
ring will prove an effective barrier to your emotions?"
"It doesn’t have to. I Don’t have any emotions for
John any more. He means nothing to me now. that’s
why I Don’t want to go."
Her voice rang with conviction, and Lorenzo felt
his heart slam into his ribs, urging him to ask the
question it so badly wanted answered. Ignoring it, he
flicked back the sleeve of his jacket without allowing
her to reply and told her curtly, "It’s almost lunchtime.
I suggest we have something to eat, then we can collect
the car and I can familiarise myself with this evening"s
route."
The Cotswolds lay drowsing under the warmth of the
summer sunshine, its villages filled with coachloads
of tourists. And, as she did every summer, Jodie wondered
what those drovers who had once brought their
sheep to market along these traditional roads would
have thought if they could be transported to modern
times.
The small market town of Lower Uffington, where
Jodie had grown up, was slightly off the normal tourist
track, fortunately, and Jodie felt her stomach muscles