The limo halted. By the time Gio and his driver had circled the car Stella was standing on the hot tarmac, staring in disbelief. ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’
He stood close enough to register the lush scent of lilacs. He found it strangely reassuring that despite everything, including the huge bouquet of exotic blooms she’d carried in the church, Stella smelled the same. The fragrance of lilacs had teased his memory for months. Now the writhing tension in his belly eased just a little. ‘You’re scared of flying?’
She swung around in a flare of satin and lace. ‘You didn’t mention a helicopter. You said we’dtalk.’
Had he? It must be true then. Right now, standing close to the woman he’d craved for months, he could think of things he’d rather do.
Beyond the fence shouts erupted. Metal clanged as if someone had hit the tall gates.
Gio shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. ‘We need peace and quiet for that. We won’t have that anywhere where your family can interrupt.’
Deliberately he glanced towards the gate. Her brothers, father, and some wedding guests were arguing vociferously.
He noticed the groom wasn’t with them.
Gio swung back to Stella, seeing a pallor that belied the angry set of her mouth. In the sunshine she looked tired, fragile beneath her feistiness.
He felt a stab of doubt. But it was too late now to pull back.
He pitched his voice low. ‘You have a choice, Stella. Come with me and sort this out properly or stay and explain to your family.’
The shouts reached fever pitch. Violent threats filled the air.
Finally, without a word, without acknowledging him, Stella marched to the chopper, her long train sweeping the dusty ground.
Gio reached out to help her up but she flinched away. ‘You didn’t listen,’ she hissed. ‘Don’t touch me again.’
In the end it was his chauffeur who helped her climb aboard and tuck the voluminous skirts around her, leaving Gio with an echo of what he’d felt the day she’d run out on him. Spurned. Bereft. And furious.
In the end Stella was glad they travelled by helicopter. Conversation was impossible unless they used the headphones, but whatever chitchat Gio had in mind was too private to share with the pilot. So she settled in her seat and watched the view.
At first she thought they’d drop down somewhere close. In another Sicilian city or, knowing Gio’s wealth, some luxurious private retreat. He probably had houses dotted around the world. She’d discovered the Amalfi villa was his, not a friend’s.
Another lie to add to the rest.
Her tension rose when the helicopter skimmed past the island and over open sea. Where was he taking her? She’d made up her mind it was back to the villa, but, instead of heading east, the chopper stayed over the sea.
Her stress levels rose but as the flight went on and they crossed over the mainland, she became mesmerised by the changing view of cities and villages, farms and mountains laid out below them.
It wasn’t really the view that lulled. She’d been running on empty for too long and today had been full of stress, the overload of cortisol in her body had drained her. She felt empty and exhausted, with an edge of lingering nausea. It was almost relaxing not to have to think about anything and just sit. For now there was nothing she could do.
Her thoughts kept backtracking to Gio’s reaction to the idea of a baby. He’d denied it was possible, yet he’d cold-bloodedly proclaimed to the world that she was pregnant, solely to create mayhem and embarrass her.
His actions repulsed her. The easy way he shrugged off the idea of a child yetusedit for his own ends.
At the same time her response to him wasn’t completely negative. That horrified her.
Oh, she’d been furious in the cathedral, but hadn’t part of her revelled in the idea of him whisking her off to be with him?
She’d thought herself too sensible to yearn for a man who’d lied to her, using her in one-upmanship against her father. But the trickle of delight she’d felt beneath her outrage told its own story.
For, even knowing he’d duped her, Stella had discovered something about herself—that she felt deeply. That some emotions couldn’t easily be wiped away, despite the pain of betrayal.
Somehow, in the short time they’d been together, she’d fallen for Gio Valenti. It shouldn’t be so. Maybe it was a product of all those years yearning for love that her father and half-siblings refused to bestow. Whatever the reason, she’d felt far more for Gio than should have been possible.
Her mouth turned down and she pressed a hand to her lips, ashamed of the way they quivered. She hadn’t shed a tear over Giancarlo Valenti or the way he’d hurt her. She refused to start now.
Besides, now she had a weapon to fight him. Her weakness was also her strength. Back in his Amalfi villa she’d fancied herself falling for him. Now that would be her defence, for the other side of love was hatred, and she hated this man with every atom of her being.
