Chapter Five
Chapter Five
S auntering down the hill towards the centre of Positano with Rin on his arm, Enzo mentally mused over the messages he’d exchanged with Marcus last night, after Rin had gone to bed.
He’d been unnerved by the conversation, doubting himself and the plan.
There had been something unusually honest and natural about her responses to his questions last night.
As if he’d been hearing from the real Erin Carter.
If you’re worried, you just need to find proof.
What kind of proof?
Surely, if she’s a real gold-digger, then she’ll jump at the chance to spend your money? Just give her the opportunity and see what happens.
Marcus was right. If she proved herself ready to spend his money, then she deserved everything she had coming to her. Which was why he had come up with the plan to take her shopping. And Rin had seemed utterly delighted with the idea.
The speedboat had dropped them off at the little concrete marina serving the centre of Positano, where it brushed right up against a small sandy strip of beach fronted by a near inconceivable amount of restaurants in the small bay.
From there, they had wound their way around the steep cobbled streets, packed with tourists of every kind.
Bright boutiques, jewellery stores, trinket shops, galleries, designer clothes—there was everything that a morally corrupt heart could desire.
And he’d been almost disappointed when all it had taken for Rin to revel in her newfound riches was the slightest of pushes.
‘Here, amore mio . Whatever you like,’ he said, offering her the black credit card that had no limit. ‘It’s my pleasure to provide.’
There had been a single moment when she had looked between him and the card in his hand, when he’d thought perhaps, just perhaps she might decline the offer.
When he’d thought that she’d really wanted to.
But then she’d plucked it from his hand and practically skipped into the first shop of so very many.
As he watched her trawl through silk scarves, expensive sunglasses, glass beaded necklaces, swimming costumes, and silk dresses, he could almost have been impressed.
There didn’t seem to be any cohesive pattern to her purchases, their styles were varied and almost erratic, in bemusing contrast to the style and elegance Erin sometimes displayed.
She stopped at every single clothing store, each more expensive than the last, jewellery stores glittering with diamonds and gold, and even tourist stores as if she were a child hunting down her favourite treats. It was almost amusing to see her behave in a way so charmingly juvenile and silly.
But he was also relieved. At least now he knew. At least now, Enzo thought, he could finally put her in the box she’d been somewhat difficult to squeeze into, now that he was sure she was a gold-digger.
He hung back as Rin trapsed off to another shop along the steep, narrow, cobbled steps as he fired off a message to Marcus.
Took the bait. Hook, line and sinker.
Three dots appeared on his screen, as Marcus composed a reply.
You have your answer then.
And my congratulations on your forthcoming nuptials!
Ahh, finally. She had shaken Enzo’s limpet-like attachment to her side and found a shop that she actually liked . Unlike the others that had been filled with improbable silks and impractical satins, here were more wearable clothes in linen and cotton for her time on the yacht.
She breathed a little sigh of relief at her moment of freedom.
It was exhausting being the perfect girlfriend for Enzo.
But every time she spent his money, he seemed more and more pleased.
Of course, Erin had no real intention of wearing even half of what she’d bought and had every intention of returning the items the first chance she could get in order to refund the money into his account.
One of the main reasons this entire plan was bearable was because it wasn’t costing Enzo a penny. As for emotionally? Well, he’d left a swathe of broken hearts across the world. Surely his could do with a little denting in return?
Her fingers brushed along the palazzo trousers that she was drawn to, the cotton shirts that looked loose and comfortable, because she really did need some more clothes.
She hadn’t exactly packed with a long yacht trip in mind.
She picked a few things off the rails. A cropped sleeveless linen top with matching wide-legged trousers.
A simple linen dress, a long-sleeved shirt and a cotton jumper.
Things that she would pay for herself, she decided.
‘Would you like to try something on, Signorina ?’
Erin tore her gaze away and smiled at the saleswoman. ‘Yes, please,’ she said, and gave the items she wanted to try on to the woman who placed them in the changing area for her. Really, it was just a curtained-off corner, but it would suffice.
Her phone beeped with a message from Sam just as she was looking at a cotton vest.
Is it working?
Was it? She thought so. She just wished she didn’t feel so guilty.
The way that he’d listened to her last night, as if he was actually paying attention to what she was saying, the way that she had wanted to believe that he actually did support her goal for Charterhouse.
..it felt wrong somehow because she was using him to get it.
But she forced those doubts aside, because he was right, she did need to do whatever was necessary to get her hands on it. Because when we get Charterhouse back... So, she typed back a reply to Sam and sent a pic of all the shopping bags she’d amassed at his expense so far.
I think so.
Samara sent back a head exploding emoji and Erin smiled a little. Her phone beeped again just as she was about to put it back in her bag.
I hear wedding bells!
Erin then jumped when the bell across the door to the shop sounded and Enzo appeared.
‘So, this is where I find you?’ he asked, looking around at the clothes in the shop as if he were a little confused. They were probably too cheap for him and a part of her was irritated by his disdain.
Shoving it aside, she smiled at him and said, ‘Well, as beautiful as silks and satins are, if we are going to spend the next ten days on a yacht, I might need something a little more practical.’
‘I don’t see why,’ he dismissed. ‘But as you wish. Let’s see,’ he said, fluttering his hand at her and sinking into a chair at the opposite end of the shop. He had a new shopping bag with him and she wondered whether he’d finally given in and bought himself something.
‘You want a fashion show?’ she asked, her voice high-pitched in surprise.
‘Yes,’ he said, crossing his ankle over his leg, as if settling in for the long haul.
She looked for a way out, but couldn’t see one, and eventually retreated to the changing room, passing the shop manager who had caught sight of Enzo Rossetti and had dollar signs in her eyes.
Erin closed the curtains around her and bit her lip.
There was nothing indecent about what she was doing.
He couldn’t see anything. But it felt...
strange to be undressing in such close proximity to him.
Not that he’d care, she realised. He could have seen hundreds of naked forms. What was one more?
And with that slightly deflating thought, she changed into the first outfit.
Enzo cast an eye around the clothes, all of them attractive, and good quality, but nothing he’d have thought particularly extravagant enough to catch Rin’s eye. He scanned the room, coming to a halt when his gaze caught on the sliver of the changing room that the curtain had failed to cover.
It was nothing indecent. He’d seen more flesh on the beach at Capri the night they’d met.
All he could see was the curve of her shoulder and the flare of her hip.
He should look away, but it was impossible.
Because he knew the feel of the flare of her hip beneath his palm, he’d traced the long line of her neck with his fingers.
Even now his body warmed from the memory of it.
Erin’s honeyed cream skin glowed beneath the spotlight above the changing area.
His fingers curled reflexively, his jaw tightened.
He caught sight of her face in profile as she fiddled with something—a button, a zip?
—the frown of concentration and the slight flush on her cheeks.
Could she tell? Could she feel his gaze?
Had she done this on purpose? he wondered.
He felt like a voyeur which only served to enflame the wildfire of arousal burning across his body. By the time she emerged from the changing area to see herself in the only full-length mirror in the shop, he was wound as tightly as an unexploded bomb.
Seemingly unaware, Rin walked to the mirror and turned her back to him, and he watched her observe herself, at first critically and then with something like surprise.
The wide-legged trousers flattered the narrow lines of her curves, and the sleeveless linen top showcased the sleek lines of her toned arms.
It shouldn’t have looked anything other than okay. But the rich forest-green linen made her look like a wild sprite, ready to demand his servitude.
She caught his gaze in the reflection in the mirror and stilled.
It was a strange moment, her clear blue eyes wide and on him, and with a jolt he realised that her mask had slipped. The vulnerability he saw there was not fake or imagined. It was real because he felt it like a punch to his chest.
The saleswoman oohed and aahed, and shooed her back into the changing area, closing the curtain, cutting off his line of sight completely this time.
Bereft. It left him bereft.