The Correttis (Books 1-8). Кейт Хьюит
Читать онлайн книгу.
Teresa frowned. ‘I thought there was a lot of affection between the two of you.’
Ella could feel her grip tighten on the glass in her hand. Really, she couldn’t say to this elderly lady that her grandson was an exceptionally affectionate man, with many.
‘My grandson is very complicated,’ Teresa said. ‘Of all my grandchildren he is the one that…’ She gave a helpless gesture. ‘Even as a child he smiled and laughed, was the happy one, but his heart was black and closed.’
‘Santo?’ Ella checked.
‘Santo.’ Teresa nodded. ‘He is the same now. He laughs, he is wild, but he lets no one close. Always there are women, yet you are the only one he has brought to see me.’
‘Signora Corretti.’ She just didn’t know how to handle this. ‘I don’t think Santo was introducing us. I mean, I don’t think he was bringing me to visit you in the old-fashioned sense.’ She just couldn’t do this any more. ‘I think things are over between Santo and me.’
‘You think?’
And she thought of Marianna, and how he could just up and leave. Even if Ella had somehow engineered it, manifested it almost, for she had offered him on a plate such an irresistible temptation, it killed he had so readily taken the bait.
‘I know,’ Ella said. ‘There are some things you just can’t forgive.’ And she wasn’t going to discuss his sex life with his nonna, but when you loved a man like Santo there were so many other reasons to be cross. ‘He was supposed to care about this film. It was the most important thing to him, to this village, to the family name. But without a second thought he just walked off….’ Then Ella begged, more for herself than the movie, but it saved a little face. ‘Do you know where he is?’ she demanded, ‘What suddenly came up?’ She was starting to cry and didn’t want to. ‘Who he’s with?’
‘These are not questions that we ask in my family.’
No, they were so bloody corrupt, so powerful, they made their own rules and didn’t care who they mowed over in the process.
‘It’s a movie…’ Teresa shrugged. ‘You can forgive if you want to.’
‘Maybe you can.’ She looked at the older woman, who she actually adored, which was why she could be honest, rather than rude. Both knew they weren’t talking movies. ‘I never could.’
And it was a nice thing to know, to know she had boundaries, that no matter how much she might love him, that she wouldn’t simply turn a blind eye. That knowledge was enough to halt Ella’s tears, to smile and chat some more with Teresa.
To know she would get on with her life.
‘I have to get back,’ Teresa said a long while later, when Ella was drooping and doing her best not to show it. ‘Or we could have a coffee…’
Ella went to shake her head, but though she might not be like her mother, she had been brought up to abide certain rules.
‘That would be lovely.’
‘Perhaps—’ Teresa smiled ‘—we have an amaro…good for digestion.’
She had to be up long before the dawn but Ella obliged, joining Teresa in sipping the herbal syrupy drink, listening as she reminisced about Salvatore. ‘I talk too much,’ Teresa apologised.
‘It’s been lovely to talk,’ Ella said.
‘You are a good girl,’ Teresa said as they walked out to the hotel where her driver was patiently waiting. ‘You looked after me well tonight. It has been nice to be out.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it too.’
She had, Ella realised, even if she was beyond exhausted, finding only the time to set her alarm before falling into bed, too zonked to think about Santo, too exhausted to think about the movie they would be wrapping up tomorrow.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SHE WOKE UP missing him though.
The final day of filming and Ella looked out from her hotel window. A stunning moon glittered off the water. She looked at the ship Santo had been so pedantic about and he hadn’t even hung around to see it.
No, this was how it felt to have a heart broken by Santo. She was starting to feel it now, not just the hurt but the little flare of anger towards herself for her handling of things. But she plunged her heart back into deep storage and dressed in her favourite denim skirt and halter top and then deliberately, as if serving herself a warning, applied some mascara and not the waterproof kind either.
She could cry it all off tonight when it was over, could take a bottle of his blasted champagne that she’d ordered up to her room and drink it warm if she so chose.
She so didn’t want ice.
It was the promise of that that got her through, because watching the final scene, with the ship behind them, watching the returning husband’s hands roam Taylor’s body and remembering Santo’s hands doing the same to hers, had her biting on her lip, willing the scene to be over, for this day to be over so she could say she had made it through filming.
Oh, there would be some studio stuff, but the bulk of it was done, or it would be a few seconds from now.
She watched husband and wife kiss, and as his hands explored her body, the infidelity was revealed. the whole set was in tears, even Ella. The ocean was just glimmering the ship, the extras all in harmony, and as the camera zoomed further in, Ella looked through her viewfinder. It could not be more perfect until she felt someone standing beside her, knew without turning her head that Santo had returned. And it could not be less perfect now because Santo was by her side and so badly she wanted him, despite everything, still she did and Ella was determined not to look around.
‘Call cut.’
‘Not yet.’
‘Please,’ Santo said, ‘then I can take you back to the trailer.’
He had to be joking.
‘I need to speak with you.’
‘I’m kind of busy right now….’
But she called cut, because it was over, and there were cheers and applause from the crew as they wrapped up. Ella wiped her eyes with a tissue, saw the black streaks and let out a wry laugh. For all her effort not to cry over him, now she had to face him looking like a panda.
‘Those tears aren’t for you.’
‘I know,’ Santo said. ‘I was watching you.’
She wished he wouldn’t. Ella tried to keep her mind on work—she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. ‘It’s all gone well. I need to go and congratulate—’
‘Not right now. I need you to come with me.’
She turned and looked and it was like the first morning she had slept with him. His left eye was black, and there was a small cut above his lip, but this time she absolutely did not want to know the details. She wanted as far out of Santo’s personal life as possible.
‘There is something I need to tell you,’ Santo said, ‘something you may feel…’ His usually excellent English faltered. ‘You may feel that I have overstepped the mark.’
Ella closed her eyes. Really, she had thought it something she could never forgive, and yet, in some masochistic streak, she had ensured Santo had his perfect choice of woman working for him, while she had sulked and hidden. Now she had to pay the price for dangling temptation in front of so readily tempted eyes. She had made a stupid move in a very grown-up game with a very liberal man, and now she couldn’t really stand here and protest that he had taken the bait.
No, this wasn’t a conversation they could have here. They were being handed glasses of champagne and the party was starting. Ella followed him to his trailer, dreading this conversation, but