Chapter Six
Chapter Six
E rin emerged into sunshine the next day back onto a deck completely cleared of rose petals and romance. So much so that she could almost think she’d imagined it. The proposal, the romance, the kiss .
It had been...overwhelming. Not that she’d said as much in her message to Sam. No, she’d simply stripped the content back to the most pertinent information. The response had been pure Sam.
Congratulations. Now get his signature and get your company back!
Erin smiled. The woman hadn’t created a global women’s network without being focused and determined.
The staff member she’d passed below deck had asked her what she’d wanted for breakfast and by the time she was at the table on the upper deck, coffee and orange juice and hot pastries were already waiting for her.
She looked at the plates of cornetti and pistachio-filled sfogliatelle that she was becoming addicted to.
She sat down just in time to see Enzo emerge onto the deck, dark glasses hiding his gaze, but making the most of the powerful line of his angular jaw.
Trim hips encased in dark blue linen and a pale blue shirt, the man combined luxury and beauty to lethal levels.
Instantly she was reminded of the dreams that had kept her tossing and turning all night long.
Where his lips had kissed her palm, her neck, her mouth, and where his touch had dropped from her head, to press against the outline of her body.
Even now her pulse skipped, at the way in her dream he’d licked—
‘ Buongiorno, amore mio , I trust you slept well?’
‘Wonderfully,’ she lied. ‘And you?’
He shrugged and puffed out a breath. ‘Oh, restless. Too much excitement.’
‘From last night?’ she asked thinking of the dramatic and romantic proposal.
‘Oh, no cara . Last night was magical, but it will be the next twelve days that will be exciting .’
‘Really?’
‘Absolutely! Later today we will stop at Isola del Giglio. A friend is throwing a party there. And then tomorrow we set sail for Cannes.’
‘We’re going to France?’ Erin blinked.
‘Absolutely. I have grown bored of the Amalfi Coast,’ he said, sinking into the seat with what Erin considered to be a rather artificial ‘sulk’. ‘And Cannes has this gorgeous little chapel that I thought would be just perfect for our wedding.’
‘In twelve days’ time,’ she parroted.
‘Yes! Isn’t it wonderful? We’ll make a lazy crossing to get us there in plenty of time. The staff,’ he said, pointing down to a boat that had arrived beside the yacht, ‘are already preparing for our needs.’
Erin bit her lip. Twelve days. Was that all it would take? Twelve days and she could have Charterhouse, if she married Enzo Rossetti.
‘Wonderful,’ she lied.
‘Isn’t it just? And tonight we can celebrate our engagement. And I have the perfect thing for you to wear.’
She nodded absently, not really wanting to be under a public microscope with Enzo. For some reason she’d thought that after all the negative press attention he’d had over the years, he might want to keep their engagement private.
But she frowned when her thoughts caught up with his words. ‘Do I not have something appropriate?’
‘Not at all, amore mio . I just picked you up a little something in Positano and have been looking for the perfect excuse to give it to you. I think you’ll look spettacolare. ’
Three hours later as Enzo dressed in his room, Erin glared at herself in the mirror. Oh, she looked spectacular alright. Spectacularly awful!
Surely, he couldn’t be serious. The dress was hideous.
It was an organza creation of pleated material that made her think of origami, with ruffles at the neck and wrists.
In some ways it should have been beautiful.
Only the colours were absolutely dreadful on her.
They seemed to make her appear green to the point of sickness.
Her suspicions were confirmed by the way that the yacht staff she passed on her way to the deck all averted their eyes within milliseconds of catching sight of her. Presumably so they didn’t end up in hysterics.
Oh god.
‘Rin! Bella , molto bella .’
His rapturous response was a little unsettling and when she suggested that she might feel a little more comfortable in one of her own dresses, he asked, ‘Why? Rin, it is perfect, no?’
And although she very much wanted to say no, she couldn’t risk offending him. Not when everything was so close to her reach.
So although the speedboat taking them from the yacht to Enzo’s friend’s private estate on the Isola del Giglio had to go slower than usual, because of the dress , they disembarked onto a jetty strewn with thousands of fairy lights just as dusk hit.
Enzo held his hand out to help her from the boat and she had to try three times to find it beneath the explosion of organza fanning from her sleeve.
‘Is something wrong, cara ?’
‘Not at all, my love, ’ she added sweetly, instead of the much more derogatory term she wanted to use.
She finally found his hand and stepped onto the jetty, looking up at the sprawling walled estate that stretched almost as far as she could see.
Hundreds of people waited at the grand entrance to the estate that lay within the walls.
‘I thought you said this was a small get-together,’ she whispered to him.
Enzo looked about him. ‘This is small? It is only four, five hundred people.’ He dismissed her question and Erin’s stomach dropped. Already she could feel the weight of people’s gazes on her , on the dress . This was going to be awful. Truly awful.
This was fabulous! It couldn’t have been any better.
Erin Carter looked...appalling. Really there was no other way to describe it.
He could almost feel bad about it. Almost. If he didn’t know that she was manipulating him for her own agenda.
He’d wanted to see how far she would go.
And this? Well, this told him just how desperate she truly was.
He led her proudly on his arm as if he didn’t have any trouble navigating the folds and fans of the dress that threatened to trip them both up if he wasn’t careful.
He smiled greetings to a few people he recognised, not caring in the least that they all stared wide-eyed at the woman beside him. That was, after all, the entire point.
Over by the large Corten steel gates to the Marberry estate—a far too English sounding and appearing place for his Italian tastes, even if they had been watered down by the American quarter he’d inherited from his father—stood Marcus talking to some joint acquaintances.
Cynthia was a hanger-on who was often found sniffing around Marcus.
He seemed to enjoy the attention, but Enzo was not exactly a fan.
She could be catty on occasion and he was beginning to regret that she was there, realising in a heartbeat that she would take full advantage of Erin’s hideous appearance.
On paper—or at least, in his mind—his idea had been perfect.
But now that he was confronted with the reality of what would happen, had he perhaps gone too far?
‘Enzo!’ Marcus called, catching sight of him, his hand raised in the air halting mid-wave as he caught sight of the dress on his arm. Or, more accurately, Rin. ‘Hi!’ he greeted Enzo, evidently trying to fire a million telepathic questions at him through his wide-eyed gaze.
‘Marcus, Cynthia,’ Enzo greeted, ‘may I introduce Rin Carter. Rin, this is Marcus and Cynthia, two old friends.’
‘Less of the old there, chum,’ Marcus chided with a shoulder into Enzo’s side.
‘Charmed,’ Cynthia said, with a smile that didn’t even begin to reach the narrowing of her eyes.
‘It’s nice to meet you both,’ Rin said letting the hand she’d held out drop back into the organza when it wasn’t taken.
‘That’s a bold choice of dress, I must say,’ Cynthia proclaimed when she finally found her voice.
‘Thank you,’ Rin said, interestingly choosing not to lay the blame at his feet, no matter how much he deserved it.
But, he reasoned, she could have said ‘no’ to wearing it.
Surely the dress was just more proof that Rin would do whatever she had to, to get her hands on.
..on what? She wanted to sign a prenup. Well, maybe once her lawyers got their hands on it, they wouldn’t be so accommodating.
‘Rin has done the unthinkable, and foolishly agreed to marry me,’ he announced, forcing the subject and enjoying the way that Cynthia and Marcus eyed the spectacular engagement ring on her finger.
Cynthia looked utterly confused, and Enzo shook off the irritation he felt at the obvious slight.
After all, it was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it?
He wanted people to know. He wanted people to be confused and intrigued enough so that when it came time for Erin’s punishment, it would be full and public.
The press would get wind of it soon enough, and he’d prepare and deliver a press statement in about a week, to ensure maximum exposure.
‘Shall we?’ Cynthia said to no one in particular, apparently choosing to ignore the rather shocking news of his engagement, as she turned and led the way through the gates into the party proper.
Enzo held back and watched Rin go, not feeling delighted in the looks of shock and half-laughs that she was drawing as she did so.
‘So, this is the gold-digger trying to fleece you for your millions,’ Marcus whispered, casting an eye over her. ‘What is she wearing?’ he asked, half-horrified.
‘A mistake,’ Enzo murmured, for the first time unsure whether it was on her part or his.
The party was loud and brash, and Enzo was surprised to find it rather unwelcome after the last few days of relative peace on the boat.
His gaze constantly returned to Rin who had been smiling in a way that made him think of abject misery before she excused herself.
It had made him feel guilty and he didn’t like the unusual and unfamiliar feeling.