Tall, Dark and Italian: In the Italian's Bed / The Sicilian's Bought Bride / The Moretti Marriage. Carol Marinelli

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Tall, Dark and Italian: In the Italian's Bed / The Sicilian's Bought Bride / The Moretti Marriage - Carol  Marinelli


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same.’

      Lucia sniffed and Rafe thought how ridiculous this was, having to explain himself to his mother. Sometimes she behaved as if he were no older than Marco. He supposed it came of giving her free rein with the household after Gina walked out.

      ‘So what happens now?’ she inquired at last when it became obvious that Rafe was going to say no more. ‘Do I take it that unless the woman gets in touch with her sister, the information Verdicci gave you is our only lead?’

      ‘I will also speak to Maria,’ said Rafe. ‘She and Marco share most things and she may know where he’s gone. It’s a long shot and for the present we only know they disembarked in Genova. I suspect the Daniels woman guessed we might check the airlines and buying tickets to Milano was meant to throw us off the scent.’

      ‘And knowing they might be in Genova helps us how?’

      ‘Well, obviously she didn’t know we were watching her. She has no reason to believe that we might question whether they completed their journey. Ergo, she will expect us to make inquiries in Milano. Inquiries which, as we now know, would have gained us nothing.’

      ‘Very well’ Lucia accepted his reasoning. ‘But Genova is a big city. How do you propose to find them there?’

      ‘I’m hoping Ashley will have hired an automobile,’ replied Rafe, finishing his coffee and getting to his feet again. He paced somewhat restlessly across the terrazzo tiles, staring out at the distant vineyard, hazy in the morning sunshine. ‘Verdicci is checking the rental agencies at the airport. If she has used her own name, we will find them, never fear.’

      ‘And if she hasn’t?’

      ‘Car rental agencies need identification. If my guess is correct, she will have used her passport to confirm her identity. Either that or her work permit. In each case, she will have had to use her own name. She may even have had to give an address—a local address, I mean. Somewhere she plans to stay. Where they plan to stay.’

      Lucia’s lips crumpled. ‘Oh, this is so terrible! Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is Marco and that woman, together. It’s—appalling! Disgusting!’

      ‘Don’t exaggerate, Mama.’ Rafe could see she was building up to another hysterical outburst. His lips twisted. ‘For all I know, Marco may be more experienced than we thought. He must have something to have attracted the interest of a woman of her age.’

      ‘Don’t be offensive!’ Lucia gazed at him with horrified eyes. ‘How can you even say such things? Marco is just a child—’

      ‘He’s nearly seventeen, Mama.’ Rafe was impatient now. ‘He’s not a child. He’s a young man.’ He paused. ‘With a young man’s needs and—desires.’

      Lucia’s spine stiffened and she pushed herself rigidly to her feet. ‘Very well,’ she said coldly. ‘I can see you are not prepared to discuss this sensibly so I might as well go. I should have expected this of you, of course. You’ve never taken a strong enough hand with that boy and now we’re all suffering the consequences.’

      Rafe blew out a breath. ‘You’re not suffering anything, Mama. Except perhaps from a little jealousy. I know you’ve always thought the sun shone out of Marco’s—well, you’ve always favoured him over Maria. Perhaps you ought to wonder if you are in any way responsible for his apparent rebellion against parental authority.’

      Lucia’s jaw dropped. ‘You can’t blame me?’

      ‘I’m not blaming anyone,’ retorted Rafe wearily. ‘You are. All I’m doing is defending myself.’

      ‘As you did when Gina decided she’d had enough of your indifference?’ declared his mother tersely, making for the door. ‘You’ve always neglected your family, Raphael. First your wife and now your son. With you, your work must always come first.’

      ‘Gina slept with my estate manager,’ said Rafe through his teeth, but Lucia was not deterred.

      ‘She was lonely, Raphael. She needed love and you didn’t give it to her. What did you expect?’

      Trust? Loyalty? Rafe didn’t attempt to dispute her words, however. This was an old argument and one he had no intention of rekindling. Gina hadn’t wanted love, she’d wanted sex. Her affair with Guido Marchetta might have been the reason he’d divorced her, but it hadn’t been the first. He had never told his mother that and now was not the time to do so.

      ‘Look,’ he said, his tone neutral. ‘Let’s not get into blaming ourselves. Marco’s somewhere out there and I’m going to find him.’

      Lucia shrugged. ‘If you can,’ she said scornfully, determined to have the last word, and Rafe let her enjoy her small victory.

      Chapter Three

      As TESS had half expected, Ashley’s mother rang the gallery just after the man, Castelli, had left.

      Tess didn’t blame her. She wouldn’t have been satisfied with the terse explanation she had given her. But once Tess had ascertained that Ashley wasn’t there, all she’d wanted to do was get off the phone. It had been bad enough having to relay the news to Castelli. Discussing Ashley’s whereabouts with her mother while he’d listened in just hadn’t been possible.

      Even so, when the phone pealed in the small office she paused a moment to pray that it might be her sister instead. The gallery was still empty and she had no excuse for not answering it. And it could be anyone, she reminded herself, not looking forward to explaining the situation to Andrea.

      ‘Teresa?’ Clearly Ashley’s mother had no difficulty in distinguishing between their voices. ‘What’s going on? What are you doing at the gallery? Where’s Ashley?’

      Tess sighed. When she’d spoken to Andrea earlier, she hadn’t mentioned the gallery. But it was only natural that Andrea would ring here when she got no reply from Tess’s flat. And this was where her daughter was supposed to be, after all.

      ‘Um—she’s taking a holiday,’ Tess managed at last, deciding that the best liars were those who stuck most closely to the truth. ‘It’s good to hear from you, Andrea. How are you?’

      ‘Never mind how I am, Teresa.’ There was no affection in the older woman’s voice. ‘Five minutes ago you rang here asking to speak to Ashley. You must have known how upsetting that would be for me. As far as I knew, she was still in Porto San Michele.’

      ‘You’ve heard from her?’

      Tess couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice and her stepmother detected it. ‘Of course, I’ve heard from her,’ she said shortly. And then, more suspiciously, ‘Why shouldn’t I? She still cares about me, you know.’

      ‘Well, of course she does—’

      ‘Just because you encouraged her to leave home and live alone, as you do, doesn’t mean Ashley doesn’t have a conscience,’ continued Andrea preposterously. ‘I know you’ve always been jealous of our relationship, Teresa, but if this is some ploy to try and get me to think badly of—’

      ‘It’s not.’

      Tess couldn’t even begin to unravel what Andrea was talking about. She hadn’t encouraged Ashley to leave home and work in Italy. She had certainly never been jealous of her relationship with her mother. Envious, perhaps, because her own mother wasn’t there to share her hopes and fears; her development. But Aunt Kate had been a wonderful substitute. And what she’d lacked in experience, she’d more than made up for in love.

      ‘Then why ring me?’ demanded Andrea accusingly. ‘Worrying me unnecessarily, making me wonder if something terrible had happened to her.’

      ‘It’s not like that.’

      ‘Then what is it like? You ask me if I’ve heard from her as if she’s gone missing. Don’t you have her mobile phone number? Why don’t you ring her on that?’


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