Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
F OUR DAYS LATER Edoardo ran back up the hill, chastising himself for being increasingly bothered by the not so arduous task of satisfying his lustful wife. It ought to be the best deal ever. He had the freedom to focus on his work while having sex on tap—except his focus had disappeared the instant she’d walked into that boardroom in London and hadn’t yet returned. He was starting to worry it never would.
Phoebe had been beautiful and proud when she’d pushed for this ‘honeymoon’, but he’d thought there’d been vulnerability in that jut of her lower lip. Apparently he was wrong, because his determinedly independent wife was bold and passionate and increasingly vital . She appeared when she wanted ‘servicing’, and he leapt to his feet like her slave and—depending on the location—either swept her into his arms there or took her to his bedroom.
At night—after—she retreated to her own room and presumably fell into a deep sleep while he lay awake most of the night. She was definitely well rested, given her radiance and clear eyes. She’d got what she wanted— all she wanted. He was little more than a stud . It was utterly wonderful and absolutely annoying at the same time. Of course he was happy to be used but, contrary to what he’d thought, he increasingly wanted beyond the barriers they’d willingly built.
In the small hours he’d set up an office space for her—one way of dealing with the insomnia and burning some of the excess energy he was struggling with. He’d even fetched flowers from the chapel to put on the desk. He’d been oddly nervous when he’d showed it to her the next morning. She’d stared at it and then asked him to thank the staff. He’d opted not to tell her he’d done it himself. He’d walked out and quietly closed the door. She’d put hours of effort in there since. And as pleasing as that was, part of him regretted setting it up at all.
Dinner was the only meal they shared and aside from their moments in bed—or the pool, or the shower—was the best bit of his day. Conversation centred around work—she’d already built herself a website to advertise her services and he’d heard her phone calls, canvassing for clients.
Conversely, he was struggling with working from home—working at all, to be honest. His mind constantly drifted to those moments in the chapel when she’d walked towards him, when she’d whispered promises he didn’t want her to keep…
His only salve was that her business-like exterior dissolved the second he gently bit one of her delicate earlobes, when he kissed his way to her collar bones, when he cupped her gorgeous curves. She melted in his arms, so he took her in them more and more—not waiting for her summons.
Even so, it irked that she spent more time talking to his staff than him. He heard their laughter in the villa. Her laughter. Somehow he felt more distanced from her than he’d been a week ago when they’d been avoiding eye contact in George Scott’s office. And instead of focusing on that latest business acquisition, he wondered about Phoebe. About her family. Her friends. Her first marriage. What had gone wrong? Had she been in love with the guy? And why did that make him feel as if snakes were squeezing his vital organs? How could he feel jealous when she was with him now?
Because she wasn’t really with him.
Curiosity relentlessly smouldered through skin to bone, finally becoming impossible to ignore any longer. He glanced up at the villa and saw she’d appeared on the terrace. She usually took breakfast out there. He went to join her. But when he arrived, he saw she wasn’t alone. Isabella was sitting beside her, while Mattia, his best bodyguard, stood too near. All three of them were laughing.
He stared at the short silk pyjama set he’d never seen her in before. He didn’t know what she wore to bed because she so determinedly vanished on him. Hell, they’d never actually spent an entire night together—the first night here he’d left her early, now she left—always. And this whole scene was far too intimate.
‘Leave us,’ he said curtly.
Both Isabella and Mattia vanished inside.
‘That was shockingly rude,’ Phoebe frowned as soon as they were out of earshot.
‘They’re employees.’
‘Not mine,’ she said. ‘I like talking to people.’
Oh? Just not him.
‘You distract them from their work,’ he replied defensively. That was what she was doing to him.
‘They’ve been helping me practise my Italian.’
He took the chair Isabella had vacated. ‘I’ll practise with you.’
‘I’m going to need a wider vocabulary than, “yes, yes, harder, don’t stop, please”.’
He gaped, heat shooting to his loins while a small smile curved her mouth.
‘Besides,’ she added blithely, ‘You usually work out now.’
He gritted his teeth. She knew his routine and was avoiding him as much as she could—outside of the bedroom. He noticed goose bumps peppering her upper arms and picked up the soft rug hanging on the back of his chair, rising to tuck it about her bare shoulders.
She stiffened. ‘You don’t need to—’
‘Don’t say it,’ he said gruffly, looking into her eyes. ‘Or I swear there’ll be consequences.’
That vixen spark burned brighter in her. Yes, the uncontrollable edge of their passion turned her on the most.
‘Of course, you want the consequences,’ he muttered huskily.
He was suddenly so close to setting her on the table and eating her for breakfast because their fire raged out of control. But he couldn’t. Hell, his staff were around—one might appear any moment with more damned food for her. So he sank back into the seat and poured himself a coffee.
‘Have you been in touch with your parents at all?’ he asked.
‘Why do you want to know that?’
‘Can we not make idle conversation?’
Her gaze narrowed. ‘You don’t do anything idly. You have an underlying motive for everything you do.’
‘I’m your husband. Can I not ask you about your family?’
It wasn’t the first time he had and he still knew little.
‘You’re not really my husband.’
Irritated, he waved his hand so the ring on his finger caught the early sunlight. That irritated her.
‘Are we not going to have a child together?’ he added belligerently.
Her eyes flared with an emotion that wasn’t desire. But was as hot. ‘I didn’t think we wanted any intimacy other than sexual,’ she said coolly.
He closed his eyes, battling the urge to take her to bed, tease her until she was taut, but then withhold orgasms from her until she answered his questions. Trouble was, he wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Making her come was too much of a pleasure for himself .
Moreover, he wanted her to actually want to talk to him. That she might lower her guard enough to grant him a little insight. He didn’t want to have to manipulate or bully her—he’d already had to drag her up the aisle and the prospect of dragging more from her was distasteful. For once in his life he had no idea how to go about getting what he wanted. Usually it was easy. Usually he just rang a bloody bell and issued orders. But right now he didn’t even know quite what it was he really needed . He was just uncomfortable as hell and it was because of her. Yet weirdly, she was also the balm.
‘You okay?’ she asked after a few minutes of awkward silence.
‘I’m irritable.’ He breathed out.
She sipped her juice then carefully set it on the table. ‘Want to talk about why?’
Discussing how he felt was an anathema to him. He didn’t do it. Ever. Frankly admitting his irritability just now was a first.
‘This isn’t easy, I guess,’ she added softly.
He ran his fingers across his brow. How could she go from being pricklier than a porcupine one moment to being gently understanding the next? ‘I can’t get a handle on you.’
Her lips curved. ‘I think you get a handle on me very well.’
‘I’m not talking about sex, Phoebe.’ He huffed a reluctant laugh. ‘I know we have that nailed.’
‘What else is there for us to nail?’ she muttered.
This time it wasn’t a coquettish flirtation and it hit in a way he didn’t expect.
‘I would like us to be…’ He didn’t know what.
‘Friends?’
He didn’t have friends. But he’d like her to talk to him, laugh a little. That day by the pond, she’d laughed a lot. Now things were different. Difficult. Increasingly so. He’d thought marriage would be the way to ensure both her and the child’s safety. He’d thought it would be simple. He’d set his limits. She’d made her demands. It should be settled. But it still wasn’t right.
* * *
Phoebe stilled at the uncertain expression in Edo’s eyes. Was the man saying he wanted to talk to her? Her heart pounded. She was unbearably interested in everything about him. Ring-fencing her curiosity to the bedroom this last week had been extremely difficult and keeping emotional distance even more so—especially when she’d learned that he’d created that beautiful office for her, not the staff. Isabella had told her he’d rearranged the furniture and set everything up on his own. He’d even put flowers from the chapel in a vase on her desk. She hadn’t been able to say anything about it for fear she’d get emotional.
‘I’d like to understand you,’ he said slowly.
‘Okay,’ she said. Not quite friends, then. She wasn’t going to be hurt about that. She could keep this cool. ‘I’d like to understand you better too. But—’
‘Closed book. I know.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I should explain why.’
‘Not if you don’t want to.’
A muffled snort of frustration escaped him. ‘Can’t you be even a little curious? I’m crazy curious about you.’
‘Really?’ She stared at him, surprised. ‘What do you want to know?’
He regarded her for a long moment. The question, when it came, was almost a whisper. ‘Where did you go on honeymoon with your first husband?’
Prickly heat crawled over her skin, making her itch. That was the first thing that had come to his mind?
‘We didn’t have one,’ she said. ‘He had a new job and I followed him there.’
She’d been na?ve to think she could be some perfect wife, that Ryan had really loved her. ‘I left him less than a year after we married. I wasn’t enough for him. He cheated on me.’
Edo looked so shocked she actually smiled when normally she’d have a stab-in-the-heart feeling right about now.
‘What more could he possibly want?’ Edo muttered.
Her mortification rose. Sex with Ryan hadn’t been amazing, but it was way too icky to discuss that.
‘He was selfish in bed,’ he guessed with mortifying accuracy. Because of course Edo wouldn’t think it ick. ‘Didn’t give you what you needed?’
Shame swamped her, but Edo calmly waited for her reply as if this wasn’t anything embarrassing. He had a healthy, playful attitude to sex—he made it fun and pleasurable and not bound up with any emotional burden and he’d never once left her unsatisfied. Frankly, he now knew her body better than she knew it herself. So if there was anyone she could talk to honestly about this, it was him.
‘I didn’t give him what he needed either,’ she admitted, spilling intimate secrets she’d not even told her best friends. ‘I didn’t know what I needed, let alone how to tell him. I don’t think he’d have appreciated my trying to tell him anyway. I’d saved my virginity for so long and he took it so quickly. Literally so quickly. It didn’t get better from there.’
Edo’s jaw tightened. ‘I’m sorry he didn’t prioritise you,’ he muttered.
She pulled the rug more tightly around her shoulders and shook her head. Being prioritised wasn’t something she held much hope for any more.
‘How did you meet?’ he asked.
She shrank at the rising memories. Her emotional weakness back then was actually more embarrassing than her less than stellar sex-life. But maybe it would be good for their child if she and Edo understood each other better. Besides, she couldn’t deny him—she wanted this fragile moment of communication to last—even if she was the one doing all the talking. ‘First you should know I was an unplanned, unwanted only child,’ she muttered. ‘It’s partly why I ended up so…’
His eyes widened. ‘So what?’
Needy . Beneath the rug, she scratched her arm and tried a different way to explain. ‘Dad’s an adventure racer.’
‘A…’ Edo frowned. ‘Pardon?’
‘He travels the world competing in ultra-long-distance endurance events. Mum was an athlete too before she had me. Since then, she’s been his coach and support crew. They prioritised his career.’
‘Endurance events?’ Edo looked confused. ‘Like running?’
‘It’s their passion. Purpose. Everything.’ She nodded. ‘Neither of them particularly wanted to parent me. Eventually I went to boarding school, shuttled between grandparents in the holidays. I raced for a bit but I wasn’t good enough. I injured my ankle the one time I tried to be like him and push through anything and it’s been weak ever since. Then I was a support person to try to stay involved.’ She’d thought if she showed an interest in what they loved, they might show more of an interest in her.
‘That explains your organised survival kit with the meds.’ Edo shot her a half-smile.
‘Right.’ She nodded. ‘I get that it’s more than a career for them, it’s a lifestyle, but I wanted attention and affection from my parents. Only there wasn’t space for me. I know to achieve at an elite level you have to be that extreme, but it leaves no room for other things.’ She absently scratched at the itchiness more. ‘School was seriously average, but for whatever reason when I went to university, I suddenly had guys paying me attention—’
‘Whatever reason?’ Edo reached across and grabbed her wrist, stopping her from scratching too hard. ‘Phoebe, you’re stunning.’
She shot him a grateful but disbelieving smile. ‘For a while I wasn’t interested in any, but Ryan was in his final year, and he was very charming. He was the man on campus, you know? Suave, popular, persistent. He picked me out, started walking me to class, popping up in places, brought me coffee and cake, then other presents. I was so flattered. I couldn’t believe he paid me so much attention…’
‘He swept you off your feet,’ Edo said quietly.
‘Love-bombed me, yeah. Made me feel like a million dollars. And he loved how I reacted. But it was all about the reactions. He fed off people’s admiration.’
If Ryan had kitted out a home office for her, he’d have done the big reveal with a full audience in tow. And he’d have expected a ticker-tape parade and balloons spelling out Thank You from her. Whereas Edo hadn’t even admitted to her that he’d done it all himself. Maybe that was because her reaction didn’t really matter to him, but honestly—it still meant more to her.
‘He wanted to win me. Publicly,’ she explained. ‘Then we were the cute couple on campus. I didn’t realise how performative it was. The wedding was his idea—a rush job in a registry office—it was so-old fashioned it was “cool”, and we were for ever, and he wanted everyone else to want to be us…which in hindsight was very cringe. But I just believed in it—in him—when he said he loved me. I finally felt wanted . I thought I had the whole dream and I just fell so hard.’
He’d been someone to pour all her love into.
‘He got an internship up north and I dropped out of university to follow him. I took an office job to help us financially. But then he changed, he needed someone equal to him to climb the corporate ladder with—not some low-level office administrator. And he found her in less than six months.’
He’d needed a more perfect partner for his next phase. He’d found a new target, relentlessly pursued her, acquired her. Phoebe had only found out when his lover confronted her in the street. She’d rushed home to beg Ryan to deny it. He hadn’t. Instead he’d blamed her—for holding him back, being boring and having no ambition. That had hurt a lot. Because he’d wanted her to support his ambition. Phoebe had felt completely betrayed and unwanted again.
‘I gave up everything,’ she said. ‘I left my friends. My university plans. Most of all I lost myself in trying to be what he wanted.’
She’d not been enough to hold his attention—just as she’d not been enough for her parents. She would never trust anyone would ever commit to her again. And Edo wasn’t , was he.
Edo’s grip on her wrist gentled. ‘Phoebe, to give up everything for someone else shows a kind of generosity and courage most people never have. You’re passionate. You’re all in. That’s not—’ He shook his head. ‘He didn’t know how lucky he was.’
She smiled at him sadly. Edo was wrong. Being ‘all in’ had been her mistake. To dive into anything in such an extreme way wasn’t healthy. It had blinded her and she’d made bad choices. ‘But I should have held onto the things that were important to me. Not got so lost—and not lost so much time. Because the stupid thing is I don’t know if I really loved him or if it was just that I wanted to be loved. I was so needy I was willing to do anything to be sure of that love,’ she confessed. ‘It took so little for him to convince me, and nothing for him to have an affair.’
‘You weren’t wrong in everything—you just picked the wrong guy. He was an idiot not to appreciate you.’ He frowned and rubbed his head. ‘What did you do?’
Her parents had been overseas, of course, and she’d not told them. Not asked for the support she knew wasn’t within their capabilities. She wasn’t doing that now either.
‘I went to London. I was alone but it was better. I worked so hard—I did evening classes and upskilled. I met Elodie when I took a bunch of accountants to an escape room for a team building exercise. She was the manager there, and she hired Bethan, who then became my flatmate. We formed our divorced wives club—we were never, ever going to marry again.’
She chuckled hopelessly and stared down at his hold on her wrist. ‘Only I just have. But only so none of this stuff happens to this baby. This child is going to know they’re wanted and loved. Absolutely, unconditionally and always .’
She looked up after a moment. But Edo didn’t move, didn’t answer. She’d just done all the talking again and now he didn’t even seem to be breathing.
* * *
Edo sat like stone, too busy processing to think what to say.
Two rushed weddings. Two rubbish honeymoons. Two terrible wedding nights. She deserved so much better than what either he or the ex had given her. She’d given everything up for love once and she didn’t want to lose herself again so no wonder she’d been reluctant to marry him. Frustration filled him because he’d basically made her. The least he could do was help her understand why he was the stunted creature he was. Why her security was so vital to him.
She tried to pull her wrist free. ‘Anyway, I should—’
‘When Dante was kidnapped, my grandfather refused to pay the ransom,’ he blurted.
‘What?’
He couldn’t look at her. He released her wrist and gripped the edge of his chair instead so he couldn’t walk off this time. She deserved more from him. Deserved as much of the truth as he could actually manage.
‘My father died when I was ten—speedboat accident.’ He glossed over the fact his father had been a spoiled thrill-seeker. ‘Mother, Dante and I moved in with his father. My grandfather worked deals that were on the edge—he made a lot of money, but a few enemies as well, and he flaunted his excess. His intention was for me to take over the company and everyone knew it.’ But Edoardo had never wanted to take on his business. ‘He said if he gave in then the demands would only escalate and that the risk of it happening again would also increase.’
He breathed out. ‘Dante was held for almost three weeks.’ Twenty endless days and nights of terror and guilt. So much guilt.
‘I hated my grandfather for it. Fought him. Tried so many other ways to get the money. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t do everything possible to get Dante back.’ He still felt sick—he’d been so powerless.
‘You would have gone to the ends of the earth,’ she said softly.
‘I would have done anything.’ He hid his face as the guilt consumed him. Because he’d then made the same mistake. He’d been as blind as his grandfather. ‘It was a miracle that Dante was recovered alive but he was never the same. Nor was my mother,’ he said heavily. It had crushed him. It had crushed his mother. And it had destroyed Dante.
‘I was determined to care for Dante after that—without needing any input from our grandfather. I refused to be his heir, refused to go into his business. Instead, I started my own. But I got fixated on financial security, on building a reserve.’
‘A safety net,’ she said softly.
He jerked a nod. He’d wanted to make things better for his brother, but he’d been blinkered. ‘I thought I was helping. I didn’t notice that Dante started to self-medicate. Alcohol, drugs. I was working such long hours I wasn’t there for him. By the time I realised he was…’ he shook his head. ‘… I got him into the best clinic I could but…’
Edo had been heartbroken by his failure to help Dante, to not give him the emotional security he’d needed. And it had been his fault from the beginning.
‘When he was nineteen, he overdosed. I don’t know if it was deliberate or accidental.’
Phoebe leaned closer. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I never forgave my grandfather.’ He’d never forgiven himself.
She nodded slowly. ‘Where is he now?’
‘He died a couple years ago. I didn’t go to the funeral. Didn’t see him after Dante, but I inherited…’ Too many things from him . He inhaled sharply. ‘I sold his company as soon as I could.’
Her eyes widened.
‘The money’s in a charitable trust.’ He couldn’t have a cent of the man’s money when it was far too late to help Dante. ‘It supports various addiction groups.’
He couldn’t look at her. He didn’t want her thinking that was particularly good of him or anything. It was simply that he couldn’t bear to have anything to do with it. ‘There was something fundamentally missing in my grandfather.’ In him also. A workaholism, a blinkered focus, obliviousness to true needs…
Edo had failed his mother. And he’d failed his brother. Twice. Because they’d meant to take him and it was Edoardo’s fault they’d got Dante instead. But he couldn’t ever tell her that. ‘I can’t go through anything like that again.’ He finally met her eyes. ‘It’s why I never intended to marry.’
Her gaze filled with immense sadness. ‘But you’re going to be a father.’
His chest ached. ‘I never intended for that to happen either.’
‘But it has,’ she whispered.
He couldn’t even nod. He knew what he was saying was hurting her. He wished he could make things better, but he was fundamentally limited . He wasn’t good enough. He was too poorly equipped to be responsible for anyone, let alone a fragile child. He could never offer anyone emotional security and he needed her to know that. And he couldn’t stand to be near her a moment longer. ‘I’d better not miss my conference call.’
Shame filled him as he walked away. But he’d meant it. He couldn’t allow anyone close. He couldn’t bear to fail like that again.
The only thing was that she didn’t want that either. She’d never wanted to marry again—she wanted to be her own person. To do the things she wanted. Her face had lit up when she’d talked about her business plans. Same as when she talked about supporting her friends. And it was good their child had her because she was amazing. Phoebe flourished —even in a less than ideal environment.
He connected to the scheduled call, listened idly as a security consultant listed off initial possibilities to enhance security of her flat in London. He stared at the date on his desk calendar, distracted as something stirred in the back of his brain. In the end, he waved off the consultant, letting him know he’d be in touch. But he didn’t want to fix deadlocks to the doors and install cameras and panic buttons. It still wouldn’t be secure enough. He wanted her safer. He wanted more for her, even though he knew he couldn’t be enough. But he wanted to make her life better in however limited a scope he could.
He rubbed his face, frustrated. She’d wanted the experience of living in Italy for a week, but she’d chosen quiet village life over other touristy or cultural experiences. Maybe that had been a money thing, but she shouldn’t have had to choose . He could never let her fall in love with him, but she could love Italy. Maybe that would be something more. Because his estate could be a safe haven for a young child to grow up in—space, sunshine, a swimming pool.
Phoebe could be queen—hell, the staff already adored her—and she could run her business with brilliant efficiency from here. She could have her friends come to stay any time. Surely her life in London would pale in comparison to that?
He breathed out, invigorated. Maybe the least he could do was give her everything Italy had to offer.