Vieri's Convenient Vows. Andie Brock
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caressed by his hands was most definitely not part of that deal. She needed to focus on the practicalities. That was what she was good at.
‘So, what’s the plan, then?’ She broke the silence and Vieri turned to look at her, his dark brows raised. ‘How am I supposed to act in front of your godfather?’
‘Like my fiancée,’ he replied coolly. ‘I thought we had established that.’
‘But shouldn’t we have some sort of story mapped out?’ Ever the pragmatist, she pressed on. ‘How we met, how long we have known each other, that sort of thing?’
‘You can leave the talking to me.’
Harper bristled. The idea that she was just going to be paraded in front of this man like some sort of inanimate object didn’t sit well with her feminist principles. But then who was she kidding? None of this sat well with any of her principles. Even so, a thought occurred to her.
‘Perhaps your godfather doesn’t speak English?’ That would explain Vieri’s high-handed manner.
‘Aflonso speaks perfect English.’
So that was that theory crushed. And it would make her job harder, even though Vieri didn’t seem to recognise it.
‘Then obviously I need to be able to converse with him.’ She tried to assert some authority. ‘And to do that I need to know more about him. And we need to know more about each other.’ She tailed off, her authority already slipping away. Talking about herself was not a subject she was comfortable with.
‘Very well.’ Vieri immediately pounced on her reluctance, his full attention suddenly on her. ‘Tell me your life story, Ms Harper McDonald.’
Harper swallowed hard. Her life story was not something she was fond of recounting. Everyone in her home town of Glenruie knew it anyway—those poor wee girls, left motherless by a tragic accident that took their mother then drove their father to drink. Left struggling to make ends meet, to keep a roof over their heads. But where strangers were concerned, Harper was careful to keep her tale of woe to herself. Except now this particular stranger was silently, unnervingly waiting for answers. She decided she would stick firmly to the facts.
‘Umm, well, I am twenty-five years old and I’ve lived all my life in a small town called Glenruie on the west coast of Scotland with my father and my sister.’ She paused. ‘My father is a gamekeeper for the Craigmore estate. He manages the birds and the fishing for Craigmore Lodge, which is still owned by the Laird but now run as a hotel. Leah and I work there sometimes, housekeeping, waitressing, that sort of thing.’
‘And your mother?’
‘She died.’ Harper pursed her lips, then forced herself to continue. ‘A long time ago now. An accident with a shotgun.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Vieri lowered his voice.
‘That’s okay.’ But of course it wasn’t. In truth the accident had all but decimated their lives.
‘And I gather there are problems with your father.’
Harper silently cursed her sister again. ‘Umm, he hasn’t been well lately so things have been a bit tough.’
‘Leah said he’s a drinker.’ She really would kill Leah. ‘Is it true that if he loses his job you lose your home?’
‘Well, in theory that could happen. But I’m sure it won’t come to that. Anyway...’ she folded her arms over her chest ‘...that’s enough about me.’ She attempted a small laugh that died in the purring quiet of the car. ‘What should I know about you?’
Vieri laid his arm on the armrest between them, his fingers curling over the end. He turned to the front. ‘Thirty-two. Sicilian by birth but I’ve been living in New York for fourteen years. CEO of Romano Holdings. I started in the hotel and leisure industry, but now control over a hundred companies, and that number is growing all the time.’
Harper frowned. This wasn’t the sort of information she wanted. She wasn’t looking to invest or compiling a list of the world’s most successful businesses, though she had no doubt that if she did Romano Holdings would be up there at the top. She was supposed to be engaged to him, for heaven’s sake; she was supposed to know him personally.
‘What about your family?’ She focussed on his proud profile. ‘Parents, brothers and sisters?’
‘No, none.’ His voice was bleak, his hand tightening on the armrest.
‘What, no living relatives at all?’ His obvious reticence only made her want to push further.
‘No.’ A muscle now twitched in his cheek. ‘I was raised in a children’s home.’
‘Oh.’ The word seemed ridiculously inadequate. ‘Did your parents die, then?’
‘I’ve no idea. But if not they might as well have done. I was left on the steps of a church when I was a few hours old.’
‘Oh, how sad.’ The image of the tiny abandoned bundle lodged in her mind and refused to be shifted.
‘Not really. I’ve done pretty well for myself.’
‘Well, yes, of course, but—’
‘And from what I’ve seen of other people’s families, maybe I was better off without one.’
Was that a swipe at her? Harper scowled to herself.
‘But actually I was very lucky. Alfonso Calleroni was a trustee of the children’s home. He looked out for me, became my godfather. Without him I may well have strayed down the wrong path.’
‘You owe him a lot?’
‘Everything.’ Harper could hear the emotion in his voice. ‘Which is why I want to do this one last thing for him. His happiness means a great deal to me.’
Harper hesitated. A thought had occurred to her that wouldn’t be pushed away. ‘Do you not think...’ she started cautiously, all too aware that Vieri was not the sort of man who liked to be challenged ‘...that your godfather is thinking about your happiness when he says he wants to see you married? Not his own.’
Swinging round to face her again, Vieri positively shimmered with hostility. ‘In the unlikely event that I should ever want your opinion, Harper McDonald, I will ask for it.’ His voice was a low hiss. ‘Until then I will thank you to keep your thoughts to yourself and do the job your sister has been paid to do. Is that understood?’
‘Perfectly.’ Harper straightened her back and turned to look out of the window. From now on she would keep her mouth shut. Even if she was the only one who could see this whole charade was stupid.
The rest of the short journey was travelled in silence until the car slowed before turning off the main road and up a long driveway. Only when it drew to a halt did Vieri turn to look at her again.
‘Before we go in, you will be needing this.’ Slipping his hand into his trouser pocket, he brought out a ring box and passed it to her. The velvet box was still warm from where it had nestled against his thigh. ‘If it doesn’t fit we can get it resized.’
Harper cautiously opened the box, realising she was holding her breath as she did so. Which was stupid. What did it matter what the ring looked like, or indeed if it was as fake as their engagement? Nevertheless as she removed it from the box, felt the weight of the green stone, saw its mocking sparkle in the dim light of the car, she had no doubt that this was the real thing. When she slid it onto her finger it fitted perfectly. Which only made her feel more uncomfortable. As did Vieri’s dark gaze, which drifted from her hand to her face, making her stomach do an inexplicable swoop.
‘You are ready?’
Harper nodded, stuffing the offending hand into her coat pocket to keep it from view as the driver came around to open her car door for her. ‘Yes.’ Somehow the right word came out, even though every part of her body was screaming no.
‘Bene.