CHAPTER FOUR

THERICCIPRIVATEJETtouched down in London the following morning. On Domenico's instruction a car was waiting on the tarmac to drive them to the luxurious central hotel in which he had reserved a suite and they passed the drive through the capital in the same way they had spent the flight from Venice—in silence.

Domenico had plenty of things he could say, but he refused to give Rae the satisfaction of knowing how deeply her departure four months ago had bothered him. So he'd bitten his tongue and busied himself with work, fighting the rising urge to sit back, rest his eyes on her in the seat opposite and enjoy all the loveliness of her the way he often used to.

In her simple outfit of jeans, plain tee and well-worn leather jacket she looked beautiful, and he loathed her for it. Loathed the way the clothes hugged her slender figure, highlighting her hourglass curves and making him desperate to run his hands over them. Loathed how her freshly washed hair shone and curled over her shoulders, calling to him to once again bury his fingers in its lustrous length, to curl it around his hand and gently tilt her head back until her mouth was ripe to receive his kiss.

Once in the car, Domenico stared out of the window rather than look at her, but every so often her reflection would appear in the dark glass and he would tense at the onslaught of longing stirred by her full lips and piercing eyes. It would be so easy to reach across and haul her onto his lap, he ruminated, to grind his groin against her and settle the ache hammering there, and it bothered him how large the idea loomed in his mind and how excited by it his body became.

Why did he continue to suffer this infernal attraction to her? Imagining all the ways he could drive her to make those delicious mewls of delight he so loved, and all the ways she could enchant him with her hands and lips and tongue. Rae had made it clear she had no love or respect for him. And that inequality of feeling infuriated him, stirring memories of another time he had yearned for something with every bone in his body...and the crushing rejection that had followed.

He'd always been fascinated by the idea of his mother. Elena had shielded him from the truth of how she came to raise him, simply telling him that his mother had had to leave him in her care, and so as a young, vividly imaginative boy he'd built a thousand scenarios around that mysterious mother figure, imagining all the possible reasons why she'd had to leave him and how it would be when she returned. When he'd finally learned her identity and seen a photograph of her she'd been even more beautiful than he'd imagined and, with a real face to revolve around, his daydreams had grown even grander. When he'd heard she was in Venice, those dreams had seemed on the verge of coming true. He'd been sure that she was there for him. To see him. Claim him. But when they had finally come face to face, she'd shown none of the joy that he'd dreamt of. Her eyes, when they had finally come to rest on him, had turned cold and cruel, before she turned her face away, as though she didn't know him at all.

The incident had left him crushed and reeling, but he'd been too foolish, too full of hope, to learn his lesson and he'd gone to find her at her home. He had begged, he remembered with nauseating clarity, for a moment of her time, a conversation, that was all, but the rejection had been swift and brutal. The look that chased him away had told him he was nothing. Less than nothing. It was a look that, until Rae, had prevented him from ever getting too close to anyone.

However, he was older now. Wiser. And this situation with Rae would not be the same, he reassured himself. He was capable of ignoring the inclinations of his body and the messages being telegraphed by his recklessly beating heart, and even more reckless libido. All he wanted from her was her cooperation to ensure he inherited Palazzo Ricci. He harboured no hopes and he would not be begging for anything.

That was Domenico's last thought before they pulled up outside the hotel. They were checked in quickly, his name prompting a flurry of activity, but as soon as they entered the confined space of the elevator, Rae's gentle scent hit him like a punch, making him question that resolve as it took him right back to their most intimate moments, when he was deep inside her and the world began and ended with her. To the way she moved atop him, covering his body with her own, silencing his groans with kisses, fogging his mind with that light-as-air scent—her scent.

The moment they entered the suite he strode over to the terrace doors and pushed them open, partly to assess the view but mostly to flood the room with clean spring air and dilute the potency of her presence. Feeling fatigued, though it was only just past noon, Domenico availed himself of the top-of-the-line coffee machine and then carried his very strong espresso out onto the terrace. He was sipping at his coffee when he noticed Rae emerging from the far side of the suite and heading for the door, her jacket on and bag hanging from her shoulder.

‘Are you going somewhere?' he demanded, quickly stalking back indoors.

She flashed him a look that said it was obvious. ‘To do what I came here to do. Press pause on my life for the next six months.' Turning her back on him, she reached for the door handle. ‘I'll be back in a while.'

‘That's a little vague for my liking, Rae.'

Her shoulders stiffened and Domenico had the distinct impression she was counting to three and taking a deep breath before responding. Not for the first time, he caught himself reflecting that she was much spikier than she'd been before. Quicker to argue and sharper with her retorts. Thinking back to the way she had challenged him about the particulars of her return, forcing him to hastily rearrange his schedule to accompany her to London, he couldn't say he appreciated the argumentativeness but, for reasons unknown to him, he was somewhat intrigued by her new gutsy spirit. He wondered where she'd been hiding it throughout their marriage.

‘I'm going to hand in my notice at work and then I'm going home to see my sisters and to pack up my things.'

Domenico searched her expression for any sign of deceit, though he wasn't sure he trusted himself to recognise it. She had, after all, fooled him for a long number of months into thinking that she was as invested in their marriage as he was.

‘Very well.' He set down his cup and reached for his phone. ‘I'll call for the car.'

‘I don't need the car.'

‘You may feel like traipsing across London with luggage. I, however, do not.'

‘Since you're not coming with me, I don't see why what you feel like is relevant,' she riposted with a flash of temper, crossing her arms defensively over her chest, which was rising and falling with each flustered breath. Much to his frustration, the movement only drew his attention to the generous shape of her breasts beneath her shirt and abruptly all he could think about was how responsive they'd been to his touch. How Rae had loved him to flick and lick and suck. How she would writhe beneath him and beg breathlessly for him to keep going.

‘It's relevant because I am coming with you,' he snapped, breaking free from those thoughts, but only with great effort.

Outrage glowed in her eyes like sudden flames, enhancing their naturally bright hue. ‘No.'

‘Yes.' Lifting his jacket from the back of the chair, he pulled it on.

‘I don't need an escort, Domenico.' When he didn't bother to respond to her jibe, she huffed out an irritated sigh. ‘I gave you my word that I would go through with this charade. So what is it that you think I'm going to do? Disappear into the crowds of the city and never be seen again?'

‘No, I don't think that's going to happen,' he responded, rapidly losing patience, ‘because I'm not going to allow it. You may have given your word, Rae, but surely you can understand why it doesn't count for much.'

He might be foolish enough to still desire her, but he was not such a fool that he would trust her ever again. Not after what she had done.

So he would not be letting her out of his sight, at least not until she had proven herself. And on one level he was curious about the life she had chosen over him. Masochistically eager to see what had been so much more worthwhile than him. Than them.

‘So,' he said, forcing himself to ignore the hurt clawing its way into her gaze and gesturing for her to precede him out of the door. ‘After you.'

So this was what she had left him for.

It was the sole thought in Domenico's head as the car pulled away from the kerb outside the bistro in her home suburb of Wandsworth, where Rae had seemingly been working, and set off towards her house.

To be a hostess in a high street restaurant and live back in the house she had grown up in with her sisters.

It was unfathomable! He could give her the world and she had picked this?

Turning his face away from the window with a barely suppressed breath of anger, he dug his phone from his inner jacket pocket and with a frustrated jab accessed his emails, questioning afresh how he had made such an error in judgement in granting Rae access to his life. That he had ever considered her different from the women from his past was perplexing to him now, and there was little comfort in recognising that she had fooled Elena just as convincingly.

His aunt had often remarked that she thought Rae possessed a similar spirit to her own, but Rae's actions had thoroughly debunked that. Elena had been one of the wisest, kindest, most loyal people he'd ever known. She had never turned her back on him, or anyone in need, and although Domenico sometimes questioned if she had only taken him in to fill her barren life after her husband Raphael's premature death, and to give herself a once longed-for heir, he'd never doubted her affection for him.

However, it was that ugly question that drove him to work so hard, to build The Ricci Group—Raphael's business—into something even bigger than Raphael Ricci or Elena had dreamed of. To prove to Elena that she had been right to take him in when no one else had wanted him. To show her that, out of all the lost boys in the world, he was deserving of the good fortune she'd bestowed on him. Even if he never quite felt deserving of it, of the love and attention she had offered.

It was as though his abandonment as a newborn baby had stained him, marking him out as unwanted, and nothing he did, however hard he worked or how much he gave, could erase that mark, or the feeling that sometimes crawled beneath his skin because of it.

It was a feeling not helped by the world he inhabited, where it was never clear if the people who flocked to his side and fussed and flirted in the hope of earning his favour did so because they actually wanted to know him, or because they could not resist the lure of his wealth and status.

He'd never had that concern with Rae. Whilst instantly recognisable in Italy and other countries across the Continent, his profile in England had been relatively low when they'd met. Rae had known nothing of his wealth or the Ricci name. Her interest had been solely in Domenico, the man. For a short while, at least, and when that had waned, even the wealth and luxury he could offer hadn't been enough of an incentive to cajole her into staying.

She just hadn't wanted him. Like so many others before her.

He hated that it hurt him, like a scalpel splitting his skin open and tearing it back so he felt exposed. Vulnerable. Domenico thought he had excised all those feelings long ago. Whatever small splinters had remained had been dealt with in the aftermath of Rae's departure, plucked out like thorns. But he could feel a fresh spill of that poison, spreading outwards and infecting his thoughts and his mood, propelling him back to that day when he had stood in the freezing, pouring rain, pleading for the chance to know his family, only to have the door slammed in his face.

It was a memory, and an insecurity, that he couldn't abide and he loathed Rae for stirring it up, for making him feel weak, especially when he had been a damn good husband to her.

As his wife she had wanted for nothing. She hadn't needed to work. She'd had the freedom to travel with him in opulence and comfort to the most exciting cities the world had to offer and to enjoy them in a luxurious manner that most people could only dream of.

Her only responsibilities—if they could even be called that—had been to represent their family and business with poise and elegance. To attend the necessary social functions and work with certain charitable organisations and, every so often, coordinate with a team of event planners to set up a party on behalf of The Ricci Group.

What cause had she had to leave?

The life flying past on the other side of the window was the life Rae had left behind to be with him in the first place. And she had left it easily, happily. So why had she returned to it? It could only be that she'd stopped loving him.

That he hadn't been enough.

The story of his life.

Butshe had been as close to capitulating to the swirling fire between them as he had, and didn't that indicate that she felt something for him? That he continued to hold some mastery over her emotions?

In which case...

Basta!

Enough!

Vexed by that dangerous train of thought because it was contaminated with too much hope, Domenico ruthlessly shut down those thoughts. It didn't matter why Rae had left, only that she had. Even if he was able to burrow inside her mind and understand her ultimate reasoning, what would it change? There was no going back for them. She had betrayed him. Broken his trust. Broken everything they had built together. So he resolved to give it no more thought, and focus only on the issues that could be resolved—like his inheritance.

Rae was beyond relieved when the car pulled up outside her family home on the tree-lined residential street in Wandsworth and she was able to escape the confines of the car and with it the intoxicating, darkly sweet scent of Domenico's supremely male body and the feel of that body so close to her.

‘Do you want to come in?' she offered out of politeness.

‘No. I'll wait here for you. I have more emails that I need to respond to and you probably need some private time with your sisters.'

She tried not to show her relief. After the flight, which had seemed to take double the normal time, and crisscrossing the capital in midday traffic, Rae badly needed a reprieve, and not just from her bodily reactions to him, but the disapproval that had been radiating off him in violent waves ever since realising she'd taken a part-time job as a hostess and waitress at a local restaurant. Domenico had taken one look at the frontage of the bistro and his lips had instantly compressed together in that flat line that expressed his discontent. Senior executives at Ricci lived in fear of that compression of his mouth, but Rae had only ever been subjected to it on occasion, most memorably the once or twice that she had tried to express a preference that she did not accompany him to a particular event.

Using her key to let herself into the house, Rae hadn't even shut the door before she was set upon by her sisters, demanding the answers she hadn't been willing to give them during the brief call she had made from Venice. Sitting with them in the living room, she slowly explained all that had unfolded and what would happen next.

‘So you're actually going back to Venice to live with him and pretend you are still together for the next six months?' Maggie demanded in open-mouthed disbelief. ‘Have you completely lost your mind?' she exploded.

‘Maggie!' Imogen chided.

‘Don't Maggie me!' she fired at their youngest sister. ‘It's absurd and if you're being honest, you think it is too.'

‘I know it's crazy,' Rae admitted, looking between her sisters. ‘But helping him is the right thing to do. For him, and for me too.' By their looks of scepticism, she knew she needed to explain further. ‘I want to draw a line underneath this whole chapter. I've got so many good things to look forward to, but Domenico is always lurking at the back of my mind. There's no closure there and I know the only way I'm going to be able to get that is by going back and proving that I've learned something about myself. That I've changed and I'm not going to make the same mistakes again.'

‘Rae, how can you even think that? You're so different from the person you were when you were married to Domenico. Both Imogen and I see it,' Maggie reassured her urgently.

‘Totally,' Imogen agreed quickly. ‘You're more assertive, you have such a determined focus on your bridal collection, you're chasing it with everything you've got. We're so impressed by what you're doing and we're so proud of you.'

‘You saying that means a lot,' she said, taking both her sisters' hands in hers. ‘But this is just something I need to do. For myself.'

‘Then do it,' Imogen said, squeezing her hand. ‘We're here for you whatever.'

Content with the support of her sisters, Rae went upstairs to begin the task of packing her clothes. From the window of her bedroom that overlooked the street she could see Domenico's car outside. She could make out his figure in the back seat, gesturing with his free hand as he spoke on the phone, and the movements were so familiar to her that her heart gave a kick and nervousness fluttered deep inside her chest.

Six months, she reminded herself. That's all. You can do this. There's nothing to be nervous about. You'll prove exactly how much you've changed, that you're capable of being around him and not sacrificing anything of yourself. That you don't have to suffer the way Mum did. And then you can walk away with a clear conscience and an even bigger belief in yourself.

Buoyed by that pep talk, Rae spun away from the window and reached for her case, because the sooner she got the ordeal started, the sooner she'd be on the other side of it and that wonderful, exhilarating, heartbreaking, petrifying chapter of her life with Domenico would be over for good.