The Sicilian's Bought Bride. Carol Marinelli
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Janey snapped, her eyes narrowing. ‘I hated being poor and I have no intention of spending the rest of my life chewing my nails over bills. Marco can look after me now, the same way his mother looked after him. Bella Mancini was a property developer, and when she died the business went to her children.’
A flash of recognition offered a ray of hope. The Mancini empire! Oh, Catherine wasn’t exactly into reading the business pages of the newspaper, but even without a shred of business acumen she’d have needed to live in a cave for the last decade not to know about the Mancini empire and the stranglehold it held on the Melbourne property market.
The drive along Port Phillip Bay was littered with their latest acquisitions—the smart navy signs telling anyone who cared to see, that this bayview property was being developed by Mancini’s.
To make it in the cut-throat world of property development would take stamina, intelligence and, dare she even say it, responsibility. Which, Catherine realised, were the very things Janey needed in a man to keep her on the straight and narrow.
‘So Marco’s into property development? He’s part of the Mancini chain?’ Catherine asked, trying not to sound too keen. She had learnt long ago that her approval was the kiss of death for any of Janey’s relationships. But the hope that Janey’s latest boyfriend might actually posses a scrap of responsibility was doused as quickly as it flared.
‘Marco’s sold his share of the business to his brother Rico,’ Janey corrected, with a note of irritation that Catherine refused to acknowledge. She was determined to find out more about the man Janey was involved with, and was liking him less with each revelation. ‘When Marco turned eighteen he was all set to go on board, but by then Rico had decided that he wanted to “grow” the business, to work sixty-hour weeks—’
‘That’s what people do, Janey,’ Catherine interrupted, but Janey tossed her blonde hair and took another slug of her wine.
‘Why?’ she asked, with a glint of challenge in her eyes. ‘Why would you bother when you’ve already made it? Marco’s rich in his own right; he doesn’t need to work and so he doesn’t—it’s as simple as that.’
‘So he lives off his inheritance?’ Catherine shook her head, bewildered. ‘He’s never even had a job?’
‘You sound just like his brother,’ Janey sneered. ‘And I’ll tell you the same thing Marco tells Rico. He doesn’t sponge off his family; the money is his to spend.’
‘But what sort of a man—?’
‘Oh, what would you know about men?’ Janey spat back spitefully, ‘Who are you to give me advice?’
‘I’m your sister.’ Cheeks flaming, she had tried to keep her voice even, determined not to rise to the venom that appeared every time she tried to reel Janey in. ‘I care about you, Janey, and whether you like it or not I’m concerned about you. Since Mum and Dad…’ Her voice trailed off for a second. She didn’t want to rake up the past, didn’t want to go over those painful memories, but knew that now it was called for. ‘I’ve done my best for us, Janey. I’ve tried as hard as I can to be there for you, and I’m asking you to listen to me now. I just think it’s all too soon. You’ve only known this Marco for a couple of months. Why are you rushing into things? Why not wait a while and see how things—?’
‘I’m pregnant.’
The words were enough to still Catherine, enough to shed a whole new different light on the rumblings of their argument. But even though the news had floored her Catherine deliberately didn’t look shocked; she even managed to bite her tongue as Janey took a long sip of wine, knowing now wasn’t the time for a lecture.
‘Then I’m here for you,’ she said again. ‘We can sort this out, Janey. Just because you’re pregnant it doesn’t mean you have to marry him. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.’
‘You really are stupid, aren’t you?’ The sneer on Janey’s pretty face was like a slap to Catherine’s cheek. ‘For a schoolteacher you really are thick—do you know that? As if I’d get knocked up by accident.’
‘Knocked up?’
‘Pregnant.’ Janey gave a malicious laugh. ‘Don’t think for one moment, Catherine, that I don’t know what I’m doing. Don’t for one second think that this baby is an accident.’
‘Janey, I’m sorry.’ Catherine stood up. ‘I wasn’t suggesting you don’t want your baby. I just never thought you…’ She struggled helplessly for a second. ‘You’ve never shown any interest in babies.’
‘And I don’t intend to start.’ Janey’s eyes narrowed spitefully. ‘Do I really have to spell this out, Catherine? I’ve never had it so good. I can go into a shop, any shop—and not look at the price tags. I can walk into the best restaurants without checking the prices. And if you think I’m going to let it end then you don’t know me at all.
Maybe Marco does love me, maybe this would have carried on indefinitely, but I’m not prepared to take the risk. So I’ve created my own little insurance policy.’ She patted her stomach, but without a trace of tenderness, laughing mirthlessly at Catherine’s shocked expression. ‘And if you’re worried about my lack of maternal instincts, then don’t waste your time; Marco can afford the best nannies. I won’t have to do a thing. So you can save the big sister lectures, save the boring speeches—because I don’t need you, Catherine.’
Even a year later the words hurt.
The shiny cool gold of Janey’s wedding band held its own batch of memories—only this time they weren’t exclusive to Janey.
Rico, smart in his dark suit, pausing a fraction too long before handing the rings over, his hand hovering over the Bible before dropping them down in an almost truculent gesture. For Catherine had come the welcome realisation that she wasn’t alone in her doubts about this union…
‘How are you doing?’
The nurse was back, providing a welcome break from her painful memories, and Catherine gave a tired smile, standing on legs that felt like jelly and smoothing down her skirt as she picked up her jacket.
‘I’m fine, but I think I’d like to go to the children’s ward and sit with Lily.’
Lily.
A wave of bile threatened to choke her as she thought of her niece, orphaned and alone in the children’s ward, and for a moment she wrestled with a surge of hatred—hatred for her sister that was surely out of place now she was dead.
‘They said they’d call down when they were ready. It shouldn’t be too much longer. I know you must be exhausted, dealing with all this on your own, but at least we’ve finally managed to locate Marco’s parents. Apparently they’re holidaying in the States; that’s why it’s taken so long.’
‘His father and stepmother,’ Catherine corrected. ‘His mother died a long time ago.’
‘Well, they’ve been contacted.’
Catherine gave a weary nod. She hadn’t expected the Mancinis to drop everything, and even though she knew a lot needed to be organised and a lot of choices needed to be made, secretly she was relieved nothing would be done tonight.
Tonight was hard enough.
‘Someone called Rico’s coming, though; he rang on his mobile and said for you to wait here…Are you all right, Miss Masters?’ Catherine could see the nurse’s mouth moving, the concern in her face as Catherine swayed slightly.
‘I’m fine. It’s just…’ Her pulse seemed to be pounding in her temples and her tongue was dry as she ran it over her lips. Legs that had just found their bearings seemed to be collapsing beneath her again as the nurse pulled the chair nearer and guided Catherine into it.
‘Take some slow, deep breaths, Miss Masters, and keep your head down. That’s the way. You’re just a bit dizzy, that’s