Once a Ferrara Wife.... Sarah Morgan
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them as Santo touched his fingers to his bruised jaw, his eyes on Cristiano.
Slowly, Carlo released his grip on Santo’s shoulder. ‘Calma.
Calm down. I haven’t seen the two of you fight since you were sixteen. What is going on here?’
Santo’s eyes were fixed on his brother. ‘I suggested he should let another man have Laurel.’
Cristiano stepped forward again but Carlo’s hand planted itself in the centre of his chest.
Surprisingly calm, Santo stepped back and adjusted his bow tie. ‘Help yourself to champagne, Carlo. We’re good.’
The lawyer glanced towards the terrace but mercifully no one seemed to have noticed the disturbance. ‘Are you sure? A moment ago you were out of control.’
‘I was never out of control—’ Santo licked his split lip ‘—but I wanted an answer to a question and now I have it.’ As Carlo reluctantly left them alone, Santo gave Cristiano a long, steady look. ‘If this is love I’m glad I’ve managed to avoid it for so long because it looks like hell from where I’m standing.’
Cristiano felt the back of his neck tingle. ‘It isn’t love.’
‘No?’ Blotting blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, Santo lifted an eyebrow. ‘If it’s not, you might want to ask yourself why you knocked me in the dirt for the first time in almost two decades.’
‘You suggested—’ He couldn’t even bring himself to say the words and Santo gave an unapologetic shrug.
‘It was a test of how far you’ve come in the last two years. The answer is not far.’ He grabbed two glasses of champagne from a waitress and handed one to his brother. ‘Drink. You’re going to need it. I thought you were in trouble before, but you’re in bigger trouble than even I imagined.’
‘Cristiano just punched Santo. Which is a nightmare actually because now he’ll have a bruised jaw in my wedding photos.’ Hitching up her dress so that she wouldn’t crease it, Dani knelt on the window seat so that she could get a better look at the courtyard below. ‘And now Santo’s got him pinned against the wall. I haven’t seen them fight since they were teenagers. My money’s on Cristiano but it could be a close run thing.’
Imagining Cristiano still and lifeless, Laurel flew to the window in a panic. ‘Is he hurt? Oh, God, someone should pull Santo off—’
‘Cristiano is fine. He’s still the stronger of the two.’ Dani shot her a look. ‘I thought you didn’t care about him any more?’
‘Just because I don’t love him any more doesn’t mean I want to see him hurt.’ Laurel licked her lips. ‘What do you think they’re fighting about?’
‘You, of course. What else?’ Dani glanced enviously at Laurel’s waist. ‘You look good for someone in the middle of a relationship trauma. I’d do anything for your abs.’
‘Anything except exercise,’ Laurel said drily and Dani grinned.
‘You know me so well. I lift my wine glass. Doesn’t that count?’
Laurel turned her head to look out of the window again. ‘I don’t want them fighting over me.’ The thought of Cristiano injured made her feel physically sick. Telling herself that was a perfectly normal reaction, she sank down onto the window seat next to Dani. ‘Go down there and stop them.’
‘No way. I might get blood on my dress. Do you like it? It’s by that Italian designer that everyone is wearing.’ Dani smoothed the fabric. ‘It’s traditional to wear green the night before the wedding. But you know that, of course, because you wore that gorgeous green dress the night before you married Cristiano.’
Laurel’s chest felt ominously tight. The feeling had grown gradually worse since that awful car journey from the airport. Nothing she did could calm it down.
Recognising the warning signs of an impending asthma attack, she discreetly opened her bag and checked that she had her inhaler. For her the trigger had always been stress and her stress levels had been steadily rising since she’d arrived in Sicily. ‘I don’t want to talk about my wedding.’
‘You chose a better shade of green than me. In the end I went for emerald but I’m wondering if forest would have been better. Because my hair is so dark, I decided I needed the brightness of colour.’
‘How can you even think about clothes when your brothers are fighting?’
‘I grew up watching my brothers fight so it’s not a big deal, although I must admit it’s much more fun now they’re both more muscular. You only need to worry when their shirts come off.’ Dani craned her neck to take another look. ‘You should be flattered. It’s pretty cool having men fighting over you. Romantic.’
‘It isn’t cool and there’s nothing romantic about two men who can’t control their tempers.’ Laurel wished she could just stay here. Hide away for the whole evening. ‘I don’t want them fighting.’
‘Physically they’re evenly matched, but a man defending the woman he loves is probably stronger, which is why Cristiano has the advantage. I love those shoes you’re wearing. Did you get those in London?’
Laurel sprang from the window seat and walked the shoes to the far side of the room where she couldn’t be tempted to look down into the courtyard. ‘Cristiano doesn’t love me. We barely tolerate each other.’
‘Right. Which is why you’re pacing and he’s pounding Santo. You’re both so indifferent to each other.’ Exasperated, Dani dragged her gaze from Laurel’s feet to her face. ‘Do you know how many women have chased after Cristiano since he hit his teens?’
Laurel was horrified by how much that thought bothered her. ‘Why is that relevant?’
‘He picked you. That means a lot. I know he isn’t always easy, but he does love you.’
‘He picked me because I said no to him. Your brother isn’t good with the word no. I was a challenge.’
‘He picked you because he fell in love with you. And that is a huge thing for him.’
Amongst his family and colleagues, Cristiano held a godlike status, Laurel acknowledged numbly. He walked on water. His word was law. ‘We should be talking about you. Are you excited about tomorrow?’
‘Of course I am! I’m as excited about my wedding as you were about yours.’
‘That was completely different.’
‘How?’
‘You’ve been planning this wedding for over a year.’
‘And you were married in a hurry in the family chapel because neither of you could wait any longer. I happen to think that’s more romantic.’
The conversation was like treading on a pine cone in bare feet. It was prickly and uncomfortable. ‘It was impulsive, not romantic.’ Laurel rubbed her hands down her bare arms to warm them. ‘If we’d spent a year planning it we wouldn’t be in this mess now.’
‘My brother has always been decisive. He doesn’t take ages to think about something.’
‘You mean he ploughs his way over people. He doesn’t believe anyone else can have an opinion worth hearing.’
‘No, I mean he knows what he wants.’ Dani gave her a long look. ‘Ouch. Things obviously became pretty rough between you. Do you want to talk about this?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Before he met you, he never mentioned marriage,’ Dani said softly, clearly torn between her loyalty towards her friend and her brother. ‘For a man like Cristiano that was the ultimate declaration of love.’
The ultimate declaration of love.
It