‘In between boarding school and trips abroad.’
‘I’m beginning to understand what you meant when you said your parents liked formal attire. Jeans would look out of place here.’
Ella wanted him to talk, wanted to hear his voice, because it might have distracted her from the nerves gripping her now like a vice. She half-listened as he described the dining room, the ballroom used for highly formal occasions, the original stained glass on the first floor and the gold-leafed ceilings that dated back over a hundred years. There was a library stocked with first-edition classics and a private study that overlooked themanicured lawns at the back. As a boy, he had used it to work in it, he told her.
‘There were peacocks back then,’ he said with a certain amount of wistfulness. ‘Sadly, no more. Still, the black swans on the private lake remain.’
As they walked up the impressive staircase, her eyes strayed to classic Spanish paintings and tapestries. They emerged onto the broad corridor of the first floor, and she gasped at the stretch of wall comprised entirely of a hand-painted mural depicting some era in Spanish history: horses, men in armour and stylised trees and castles.
She suspected a legion of servants tended to the mansion and its grounds, yet a ghostly silence hung over the exquisite palace. Aside from the terrifyingly huge Christmas tree in the hall, anyone would think that the festive season had bypassed the palace completely.
Rocco’s suite was as big as her dad’s entire house.
‘I’ll leave you to get ready,’ he said. He glanced at his watch, then back at her. She looked lost. ‘One of the housekeepers will knock in an hour and take you down to join my parents. I’ll be there. Is that all right with you? I expect I should have a little down time with them before you join us.’
Ella smiled and walked towards him. He was so tall, so commanding, and had seemed so curiously distant towards his parents, but wanting to see them without her made sense, at least for a bit. She could more easily relate to this person.
‘Of course you want to see your parents without me! You don’t have to feel awkward about that.’
‘I wouldn’t say I felt awkward.’
‘An hour will be more than enough. As long as I don’t have to find my way through this place.’ She smiled a watery smile. ‘Then I’ll be fine to join you later. If I have to locate whatever drawing room you’re in, then there isn’t a satnav on earth that’sgoing to work. I’ll be wandering the corridors for the rest of my life.’
‘That would be the last thing I’d want.’
Ella’s breath hitched in her throat as his dark eyes roamed over her with warm appreciation, reminding her of just how much she loved this guy. She thought of a lifetime of nights together and that gave her just the right amount of backbone she needed.
‘Okay,’ she said a little breathlessly. ‘I’ll see you downstairs.’
It was going to be fine. Everything was in place and she was happy that it was. Her doubts had been banished, replaced with trust. Of course she would occasionally have doubts. This wasn’t the future she had had in mind for herself, but Rocco had stepped up to the plate, proved himself worthy of her love, and she was determined to hang onto that.
The suite in which she now stood was lavish. She stepped into a small hall, adorned with an imposing tapestry on the wall, and from it she could see several doors opening out from a spacious living area to various rooms. The most eye-catching, however, was the bedroom, to which she quickly walked. She would like to have taken time to appreciate the splendour of the massive fireplace, the velvet drapes and the canopied bed with its sultry, deep-purple spread. A quick jump onto it wouldn’t have gone amiss but, conscious of the time, she instead headed straight to the bathroom.
It was all marble. What else? There was a hot tub, deep bath, rainfall shower and, most impressive of all, floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the landscaped gardens at the back. Ella showered quickly. It took time to figure out the controls but she felt refreshed afterwards, although suddenly exhausted.
She dressed in one of the over-priced new outfits she had bought, a navy-blue cashmere dress that clung and showed off the beginnings of her bump in a way none of her baggy outfitsdid. She stared at her reflection in the long, freestanding mirror and was overwhelmed by a feeling of unreality.
Who was this person in a dress that cost more than her monthly salary, with shoes of the finest leather, staring out at manicured lawns that housed its own private chapel? And about to be married to a billionaire who had been brought up amidst this unbelievable grandeur.
She’d made a stand about continuing to work when the baby was born but was that just a laughable notion? What was her life going to look like once she was married to Rocco? She was handing him her heart and putting all her trust in him.Was that a wise decision?
She felt the baby stir, a fluttering, butterfly feeling deep inside. She placed her hand on her tummy, took a deep breath and was relieved when a knock on the door told her that her escort had arrived—twenty minutes earlier than expected, so thank heavens she was ready and waiting. Make a late appearance and who knew? She didn’t want to deal with thoughts that kept trying to surface, because there was no backing out now. But, with each deathly silent step towards whatever room Rocco was ensconced in with his parents, she could feel the drum beat of her heart getting louder with tension.
The door to a room on the ground floor was pushed open by the man who had led the way in silence. Ella blinked at the polished dark-wooden floor, the inlaid marble, the Persian rugs the original mouldings on the walls and the frescoed panels…all accented by the warm glow from the chandelier, with its fine crystal beads.
She noticed, with a flare of panic, that there was no sign of Rocco. Instead, there was just his parents, who both rose to their feet, which she could instantly see was a token gesture of welcome, because their faces were cold and unsmiling. They both had the same darkly striking beauty of their son but Ella’seyes were drawn to his mother, with her raven-black hair pulled back tightly into a chignon.
‘Sit, please.’
‘Where’s Rocco?’ Ella asked nervously.
‘I have asked Rocco to deal with an urgent work-related issue but he will be here shortly. We thought we might get you here a little earlier so that we could acquaint ourselves with the woman who is suddenly to be our daughter-in-law.’
His father spread one arm towards an upright chair sandwiched between two long sofas and Ella obediently sat down and clasped her hands on her lap. She could have done with some water, because the glass would have given her something to fiddle with, but obviously whatever they wanted to say was more important than the ritual of offering drinks.
‘We do not,’ his mother said coldly, perching on the sofa to the left, while her husband mirrored her position on the opposite sofa, ‘Have to tell you how shocked we both were when our son informed us that he was to be a father.’
‘Naturally this was the last thing either of us expected.’
