Chapter Two #2
Tore was taken aback, not having discarded the notion that his bride might strive to make their marriage into a real marriage by being sexy.
After all, the more he looked at her, the more on some subconscious level he was aware that she was not unattractive.
That mane of wavy, tousled blue-black hair was glorious, the blue eyes enormous in that pointed little face, her mouth ripe and pink.
She had curves, a faint hint of cleavage peeking from the straining bodice of her gown, but she was small, slight in stature, the very last kind of woman Tore went for with such height and width of his own.
She looked downright breakable and that was not a trait that fired his libido.
He preferred tall, graceful women and she was neither.
She would never appeal to him, he assured himself calmly.
If she had any seduction plans, she would soon find herself barking up the wrong tree.
The tip of Violet’s tongue slid out to moisten her taut lower lip beneath Tore’s burning scrutiny.
She didn’t know why those sharp green eyes were staring, but she didn’t like the sensations he aroused within her.
A sort of warmth was snaking up through her, making her tummy tumble, her dress feel constricting, her very hands restive.
It was truly uncomfortable and in haste, she looked away.
No, I do not fancy him; no, I do not, she told herself firmly.
And she knew it was a lie even while she was telling herself that; one of the biggest lies she had ever told herself because he was absolutely drop-dead beautiful from the dark brows and lush black lashes that framed those stunning eyes below that unexpectedly pale hair to the high cheekbones that led to such facial definition that it was a challenge not to stare back.
In an uneasy silence, the limousine drew up in a driveway and stopped dead at a front door. A massive double front door beneath an imposing portico. The door beside Violet cracked open and she stepped out, not remotely inhibited by her bare feet, her gown trailing round her ankles.
Trailing like a shroud, Tore reflected as he automatically swept her up into his arms again, striving to do the newly married thing even though there was nothing remotely romantic about either of them.
He wondered why in that initial glimpse she seemed to have shrunk when she had not been very tall even to begin with.
He was startled when a small fist struck his shoulder hard.
‘Put me down!’ Violet demanded.
‘Act like a bride,’ Tore told her drily. ‘This is what you’re getting paid for.’
Furious pink lit Violet’s cheeks and she set her teeth together. ‘I didn’t know that acting was included.’
‘Then you didn’t read the paperwork. Behaving like a normal wife is part of it.’
‘While we inhabit separate wings of your gigantic house? Is that normal?’ Violet asked snidely as he strode indoors because the more she glanced around herself the more she realised that she had never seen such a large house beyond her tour of a handful of rooms at Buckingham Palace.
Tore ignored the comment and lowered her to the ground, belatedly noticing that she wore no shoes, wondering what had happened to them but not really caring because his bride was not at all what he had expected.
There was a sort of angry insouciance about her piquant little face as she gazed up at him with a fixed, utterly unconvincing smile.
She didn’t like him either and the knowledge startled him.
He had been prepared for all sorts of behaviour from the unknown woman he had to marry but not the same rancour that he was also experiencing.
He had expected sweet as sugar submission or provocative sex appeal, all the wily lures of the determined women who usually chased him… but he wasn’t getting any of that.
‘What happened to your height?’ he framed abstractedly, noticing that she had shrunk to alarmingly tiny proportions.
‘My sister’s a few inches taller,’ Violet revealed between gritted teeth.
‘What height are you?’
‘None of your business,’ she whispered in embarrassment. For someone who had told her to act he wasn’t doing a very good job in front of his hovering staff: an older man garbed like a butler and a middle-aged woman with a polite smile of welcome.
‘You’re not even five foot, are you?’ Tore gritted like height was next to godliness.
‘I’ll leave you to guess but I suppose you could say that we’re not a match made in heaven. You’re much too tall,’ Violet pointed out with pleasure. ‘Now, do you think you could have me shown to my room and given some food because I’m starving.’
‘Please show Mrs Renzetti to her quarters,’ Tore instructed curtly. ‘And feed her!’
As he stood in the grand hall, a peal of chiming laughter sent his head back around. His bride was clinging to the balustrade and giggling like a drain. ‘Quarters?’ she queried with amusement. ‘Am I in the army now?’
‘I’m Dora, Mrs Renzetti, your husband’s housekeeper. The other member of staff is Mr Jenkins, who is in charge of the household,’ Dora told her chattily, guiding her across a massive landing and down a corridor that led through another door. ‘I do hope you like the rooms prepared for you.’
‘I need a bedroom for my daughter,’ Violet announced. ‘She’s eleven months old.’
‘A baby!’ Dora carolled in apparent delight at the news. ‘We’ll all very much enjoy having a child in the house. When will she be arriving, Mrs Renzetti?’
‘This evening,’ Violet decided, for while Tabby was available to look after Belle, Violet wanted her adored little girl back under the same roof as fast as possible. ‘I’ll need transport for my possessions and to collect her.’
‘I’ll inform Mr Jenkins immediately,’ Dora told her, pushing back a door and allowing Violet to precede her into the most lovely room set up with the kind of colour scheme and furnishings that took Violet’s breath away.
‘This is…gorgeous,’ Violet pronounced truthfully because around her she was seeing the grace and beauty of a decor enabled by unlimited wealth.
Silk-draped curtains, fresh flowers, antique furniture and paintings.
It was all so far beyond her personal experience that she was tempted to pinch herself at the idea of actually living in such a room.
‘Let me show you the rest of it,’ Dora urged.
And there was a lot of the rest of it, Violet registered as she was shown a second bedroom that would have to house Belle, and a large sitting room, dining room, study and a very nice, spacious kitchen, which made her eyes flash with appreciation.
She could bake here in her new home if she put in an industrial oven and then go to work as usual.
It also dawned on her that with such rooms put at her disposal, her bridegroom clearly didn’t wish to see her at all and her chin lifted at that obvious point.
Being married to Tore promised to suit Violet perfectly.
‘Mr Renzetti’s grandmother does have a good eye for decoration,’ the housekeeper confided. ‘A lovely lady as well, very down-to-earth.’
Well, that news was something. Violet hoped that she wasn’t already so prejudiced against Tore that she assumed his family was all cut from the same cloth.
‘Now, what would you like to eat?’ Dora asked in completion.
‘If there’s food in the kitchen I can look after myself.’
‘But why would you when we’re here to do it for you?’ the older woman quipped and asked her again what she would like to eat.
Violet conceded the point, not wanting to behave like a lodger in the household when she was supposed to be its new mistress, even if the staff had to suspect she wasn’t going to be a normal wife when she had her own wing to occupy.
Thirty minutes later, Dora had helpfully unhooked her wedding dress, and Violet had changed into serviceable jeans and a long-sleeved top.
She ate her perfectly cooked omelette with satisfaction and sped downstairs at the news her transport was waiting for her.
Three years of someone cooking for her? Oh, she could definitely get with such a programme, she decided with determined cheer.
She spent enough time in the kitchen at work and had little enthusiasm for doing it outside work as well.
There would be no cleaning, either, she reflected. She would get her evenings back again…
Tabby rushed to the door to greet her when she arrived at her former flat.
Her twin had decided to move in the week before the wedding when Violet had begun to panic because Joy, Violet’s childminder, tenant and a part-time student had decided to move home and live with her parents to save on expenses.
‘I’ve been climbing the walls since Grandfather phoned me and asked me what was going on!’ Tabitha exclaimed. ‘And then I didn’t hear a word from you. What’s he like?’
Violet correctly interpreted that question as relating to Tore rather than their grandfather. ‘Obnoxious, arrogant—’
‘Pretty good-looking, though, isn’t he?’
‘Don’t see what that has to do with anything,’ Violet parried, stooping to grab Belle, who had crawled into the hall to greet her with enthusiasm.
She gazed down into that lovely little smiling face and hugged her daughter, suddenly happy for the first time that day.
‘Tore is none too chuffed that I’ve got a kid, but it doesn’t matter because he’s put me on what seems to be the opposite side of his extremely large house with my own accommodation. ’
‘Oh, that’s brilliant!’ Tabby gasped, hugging both her and Belle. ‘I was feeling so guilty and worried about you. You know, that he might push the sex angle,’ she extended with a wince.
‘Oh, no worries there! He’s far too superior to want anything of that nature from me,’ Violet laughed. ‘He couldn’t get away from me fast enough after the ceremony at the church!’