Dio mio, what is wrong with me? They had been married for three days and already this marriage was proving anything but convenient. He’d thought he could marry a desirable woman and still pursue the passion of his business. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to marry for love. He’d seen love turn other men’s ambition to dust and had vowed the same wouldn’t happen to him.
However, now he was beginning to resent every minute his business took him away from Sophia. It must be the fact that they hadn’t consummated their marriage. The sexual tension was distracting him. Once they made love, he’d be able to concentrate on work again. Satisfied that was the answer, he returned to his breakfast.
“I thought you English girls were used to staying up all night and clubbing till dawn?”
“Not this English girl. I am used to being in bed by eleven with a good book,” she admitted, finally opening her eyes. “If you wanted a girl to stay up and party all night, you should have married Olivia.”
“No, I married the right girl. I will promise to have you in bed by eleven if you replace the good book with a good man.” He reached across the table and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“I’ll consider your offer,” she replied, her voice raspy.
She finished her tea and poured another cup. “Um, I didn’t do anything stupid last night, did I?”
“No, you were a perfect angel.”
“I’m not sure perfect angels wake up naked.” There was no censure in her eyes, just confusion.
“Not generally. But I promise I closed my eyes,” he lied. “I did not think you would sleep very well in your dress.”
“Well, thank you for your help. I didn’t want anything to have happened and I missed it.”
“I do not take advantage of women who have passed out. And trust me, amore, when I make love to you, you will remember it.”
“Good to know,” she mumbled into her tea.
He bit back the offer to show her right now. “I am afraid I am going to have to leave you again. Every year I take my workers to one of the matches between the Milan football teams, Internazionale and AC Milan. That happens to be today. It is booked months in advance. After the match we go out for something to eat. I should be home by nine or ten.” It was usually one of his favorite days of the year, but for the first time he’d rather watch the game on TV if it meant he could be with Sophia.
She stole a piece of toast off his plate, giving him a wink as she did, even though there were several others on the toast rack on the table.
“That’s okay. I plan on spending the day sleeping and reading, probably in that order. I don’t think I’ll be much company anyway.” She dropped the purloined toast on her plate after one bite and rubbed her fingers on her temples.
“Speaking of reading, there is a present from your friend Jonathan on my desk—a couple of books on learning Italian. At least the man is practical. He also left a note apologizing for not coming to the party. Evidently a delivery of concrete he was expecting arrived late, and he had to stay behind and supervise the pour.”
“That’s a shame. Maybe I’ll run into him in the village again and can thank him personally. I’m happy to get the books, though. I want to start learning right away so I can understand people. It’s very frustrating when you don’t know what’s going on. All your friends were very nice last night about speaking English when I was near.”
Luca bit his tongue. He couldn’t demand that she not see the other man. He had to trust she wouldn’t betray him or damage his reputation. “You were the star of the night. Everyone loved you.”
“Well, they may not love me so much if I’m still speaking only English a year from now. Oh, by the way, Isabella and I arranged to meet in Milan tomorrow. Any chance I can get a ride into the city with you in the morning? What time do you leave?”
“Yes, she mentioned it to me. I usually leave by six thirty. However, tomorrow I will not go until eight so you do not have to get up so early.” At least they’d have the hour’s commute into Milan together. It would have to do … for now.
• • •
Sophia flipped through the fabric samples, trying to find the perfect one to go with the sofa she’d seen in the village her first day. Isabella was going to help arrange the purchase and reupholster work. It was ideal for the front sitting room. After she got rid of the red monstrosity, that was.
“Who decorated Luca’s villa?” Because if they were a professional, they should be reported to whoever certified designers in Italy.
“Oh, some woman he was dating at the time. She had ideas of being Signora Castellioni. Luca was too busy to supervise the design himself, so just gave her the money to do it. The furniture is atrocious, is it not? I think she just went into the shop and asked for the most expensive items.” Isabella flipped through the wallpaper samples, occasionally checking a pattern against a photo she held.
“What happened to her? I mean why did they break up?”
“I did not get the full story. But I heard she was baking two cakes at the same time.”
Sophia widened her eyes and waiting for the explanation. Isabella’s expressions were often a mix-up of English and literally translated Italian idioms.
“She was also seeing some other man. He proposed first, so she went with him. I do not think Luca was too upset, except when the furniture started to arrive.”
“Has Luca dated many women?”
“No, he has been too busy at work. Being successful has always been his obsession. I think it comes from when he was at school.”
“Yes, Luca said you were at school together. Did something happen there that made him so determined?”
“It was not one thing. You see, Luca he came from a, what do you call, regular family. His parents were not rich, but they were not poor either. But his father, he wanted Luca to go to private school so he could get a good education and be important. However, some of the other children did not like that people without lots of money were going to their school. So they made it very hard, always picking on Luca, telling him he was not good enough. I think it made him more determined to be a success, so he could show them.”
“What about your family?”
“My family were very rich. But I liked Luca. He was not up himself, as you English say. I could talk to him. My parents, they had lots of money but no love. They only cared that I did not get into trouble, darken the family name. That is probably why I married the first man who said he loved me.”