Authors: Jennifer St George
‘He asked me to give you this.’ The girl handed her a white envelope.
Sienna wanted to tear it open, but she gently slit it open with a knife.
See you for dinner at seven. Antonio.
Great. So they were back to communicating through short notes.
The maid pushed the trolley to the door. ‘Have a lovely day,’ she called as she closed the door behind her.
Sienna poured herself a coffee and walked onto the terrace. Where was he? The sunshine reflected from the water so brightly she had to shield her eyes. A luxury white cruiser slid silently across the lake. A couple lounged in the cushioned section in the bow. They looked happy and relaxed.
She smiled sadly. There’d not been one moment in which Antonio had been completely relaxed since she’d met him. She sipped her coffee. No, every moment, except perhaps for a few during their wedding night, they’d been scrutinised, photographed or both. She watched the woman in the cruiser throw her head back and laugh, then lean over and kiss her companion.
An unexpected stab of jealousy struck her. She swallowed, the coffee hot and bitter in her throat. Turning her back on the lake, she leant against the balustrade. Perhaps that’s what they needed, time alone. Away from relatives, photographers and prying eyes.
Returning to the suite she dialled the concierge’s desk.
‘Signora Moretti,’ a voice answered. ‘How can I help you this morning?’
‘It is possible to book a boat . . . a cruiser?’
‘Of course.’
‘A private dinner cruise?’
The man didn’t answer immediately. ‘Yes,’ he said carefully.
She frowned. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘What time and for how many, signora?’
‘Seven tonight for two.’
‘For you and Signor Moretti?’ Again the concierge’s voice had an edge.
‘Yes,’ she said slowly. ‘Just the two of us.’
A concierge’s job required discretion and prompt action, not a series of probing questions.
‘Is there a problem?’ The note of irritation was clear in her voice.
‘No, signora. Excuse me. The boat will be waiting at the end of the pier at seven,’ the concierge replied promptly and properly.
‘And I want this kept confidential,’ she said. ‘Is that clear?’
‘Of course, Signora Moretti.’
‘Thank you.’ She hung up the phone.
Slowly she walked back out into the sunshine, tearing a croissant into bite-sized chunks and allowing the flaky pastry to melt in her mouth. The laughter from the couple on the cruiser echoed off the water. A night alone, on one of the most romantic lakes in the world. What could be better for bringing a difficult and strained relationship back on track? She needed this to work.
The white cruiser disappeared.
Provoking Antonio last night had been stupid. What did it matter if he was an emotionless, arrogant, self-interested . . . But the descriptions that had seemed so apt a day ago didn’t seem to quite fit now. Last night, his face had looked like that of a lost boy.
She shut her eyes and shook her head. She didn’t have to know this man, she just needed to pretend enough to convince Rosa and Sergio they were married and madly in love.
She popped the last of the croissant into her mouth and settled herself with a magazine on a sun bed. Idly, she flicked through the pages. She couldn’t shake Antonio’s haunted face from her mind. He’d looked distraught. She snapped the magazine shut. Tonight they’d be alone and she was determined to discover the source of his anguish.
Sienna checked her watch again – six-thirty. Where was Antonio? He’d have to change. She paced another circuit around the suite. Turning on the television, she clicked through all the channels before flicking it off. Walking to the bathroom, she checked her make-up again. It looked the same as the last time she’d checked. Her hair still sat perfectly under the black headband she’d chosen to wear. She figured the wind would have a field day with her brunette waves. She pulled the headband off and brushed her hair again.
The suite door opened and clicked shut. Quickly replacing the headband, she rushed to the bed and picked up a magazine, determined to look indifferent to Antonio’s arrival. She sensed his presence at the door, but didn’t look up. Instead she turned the page and pretended to continue reading.
‘You look nice,’ he said finally.
She glanced up. ‘Good day?’ she asked casually, instead of spitting out
Where the hell have you been?
‘Very productive,’ he said and strolled to the walk-in wardrobe. ‘I’ll be ready in five.’
‘Okay,’ she said casually. After a pathetic day of angst, she decided polite indifference was the way to play things. Their night of hot sex had clearly been a one-off and a mistake, so now she just needed to manage the visit to Villa Paradiso as convincingly as possible. She didn’t need – or want – to know any more about Antonio or what made him tick. She needed to focus on why she was here.
Antonio emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later. He wore dark trousers and was slipping his arms into a stark white shirt. She couldn’t force her eyes from his gorgeous tanned chest as he buttoned up his shirt.
‘Ready?’ he asked.
Sienna looked quickly back to her magazine. Had he caught her staring? She threw the magazine aside with as much nonchalance as she could muster and swung her legs off the bed.
‘Great,’ she said, walking ahead of him into the main room. She needed to get her head back in the game and away from fantasies about Antonio and the bedroom. ‘I’m starving.’
Sienna chatted on with light banter as they travelled down in the lift. Tonight there would be no drama, just a nice dinner between business colleagues with a somewhat unusual contract. She rolled her eyes. Who did she think she was kidding?
‘Where are you going?’ Antonio asked, as she walked past the dining room.
‘I have a surprise for you,’ she said, continuing through the lobby.
‘I hate surprises,’ he muttered.
Sienna spotted Rosa watching them. ‘You’ll love this one,’ Sienna said, clasping his hand and leading him on.
The summer sun hung above the horizon. Bathed in golden light, the hotel gardens looked as wonderful as they smelled. Jasmine-scented air mingled with mists rising from the lake’s shore. The gravel crunched under their shoes as Sienna lead Antonio towards the pier. The closer they came, the more Antonio hung back.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘Nothing,’ he said, looking at the cruiser moored just offshore.
‘Come on then,’ she said, dragging him along.
As she tried to step onto the wooden structure, he pulled her back. ‘What in hell’s name do you think you’re doing?’ The menace in his voice startled her but the fury on his face chilled her blood to ice.
‘It’s my surprise,’ she stammered, pointing to the cruiser rocking gently in the blackening water.
‘Who put you up to this?’ he yelled, looking about wildly. ‘Who’s paying you for this,
La Stampa
? How much? A couple of thousand?’ He gripped her shoulders and brought his face close to hers. ‘Who?’
Too shocked to speak, Sienna stared open-mouthed at the burning rage on Antonio’s face.
‘Or was it my aunt and uncle?’ He looked up towards the hotel, his fingers tightening against her flesh. ‘Some pathetic attempt at pop psychology? Revisit the scene? Talk things through and everything will be all right?’
‘I thought —’
‘You thought what?’ he shouted in her face.
Breathing hard, she tried to step back but he held her like a vice.
The storm in his eyes disintegrated to throbbing pain. ‘You thought you could make it right?’
Make what right?
She wanted desperately to know, but the words wouldn’t come as she trembled before him. His grip slackened and she pulled away from him, stumbling as she put distance between them.
‘I should never have come here,’ she heard him growl as he stormed back to the hotel.
Sienna collapsed on a nearby stone bench. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her shaking body.
What had she done?
Antonio threw his clothes at the open suitcase on the bed. The walls seemed to be closing in on him. He stopped, sat and hung his head in his hands. Hauling in ragged breaths, he tried to shake away the agony threatening to tear him apart. If he gave in to the grief, he knew it would destroy him.
The shirt he held dropped to the floor. He didn’t need any of this stuff. Striding into the main room, he grabbed his keys. He’d get away and never come back. He yanked open the door.
Sienna stood there, key poised.
He stared at her. The confusion and concern on her face ripped away the last of his defences. He closed his eyes as he leant against the wall, covering his face with his hands. ‘Go,’ he groaned. ‘Please. For heaven’s sake. Leave me.’
But Sienna’s arms were around him, guiding him back into the room.
Wrong way.
But he was powerless to fight. The lush softness of the couch enveloped him. He wished he could just disappear. Become dust like his family and simply blow across the lake in the wind.
No pain. No guilt. Just peace.
Sienna hugged him and rocked him gently. He didn’t know how long they stayed that way, but finally the steely control that protected him slid back into place. He sat up.
‘Sorry,’ he said with difficulty, trying to stand.
‘Don’t move,’ she said, keeping him tightly held.
He couldn’t look at her. No one ever saw him this way. She’d seen his grief, his despair. He didn’t know what to do next. The thought terrified him.
‘What happened on the lake?’ she asked softly.
He turned his head slowly and stared at her. ‘You don’t know?’
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Tell me.’
A dam broke inside him. The flood of emotion overwhelmed him. He succumbed. ‘Twenty years ago.’ He shuddered. Shame crushed in on his chest. ‘Twenty years ago it was my parents’ twentieth wedding anniversary.’
Sienna stroked his thigh. He took another breath.
‘My little brother was just one year old.’ He smiled. ‘Rocco was a happy little mistake.’
He shifted in his seat. ‘I was sixteen and thought I knew everything. My mother was scared of water and wouldn’t go on the lake. She couldn’t swim.’ He shook his head mournfully. ‘In my great wisdom, I thought this was stupid, considering how much time we spent here.’ He massaged his brow with his fingers. ‘I organised a moonlight boat cruise for their anniversary, determined my mother face her fear.’
Sienna stifled a small gasp. She’d guessed what was coming.
He pressed his lips together. ‘Tell me,’ she said. Her sweet voice gave him strength.
‘We all walked down to the pier together. I held my brother as we waved them onto the boat. I could see my mother trying to hide her anxiety, but I knew she’d go. She’d do anything to make her children happy.’
Sienna took his hand, caressing with slow, soothing strokes.
‘When my parents boarded, my brother started screaming. I should —’ He put his elbows on his knees and dropped his head in his hands. ‘I should have kept him back, but . . . I didn’t want to look after . . .’ He swallowed. ‘I handed him over to my mother.’ Tears stung his eyes. ‘She took Rocco so I didn’t have to deal with his tantrum.’
He rubbed his eyes roughly, determined to finish the story. ‘The boat cast off and I walked away, glad that I had the night to myself. No annoying little brother, no parents wondering what I was up to.’ His voice broke.
How could he tell her?
I killed them as surely as if I’d drowned them myself.
‘A speedboat. Just by the sound I knew it was going too fast.’
Sienna’s hand gripped his leg.
‘I will never forget the sound of that crash, the cries, my mother’s scream . . . By the time I swam out there . . .’
Her arms hugged him tight but nothing could wash away the shame, the guilt, the pain.
‘I dived I don’t know how many times.’ He rubbed the scar on his face. ‘I got this when they tried to pull me from the water. I wanted to drown and go with them.’
Tears trickled down Sienna’s face.
‘The speedboat driver was the son of a politician.’ Antonio stood and walked to the window. ‘At the inquest, he was acquitted.’
‘No,’ she gasped. ‘Antonio, I’m so sorry.’
‘Sorry? For me? It was my fault. I sent them to their deaths. I knew my mother couldn’t swim. I handed my brother over because I didn’t want to be bothered looking after him, I —’
She jumped from the couch. ‘You were sixteen!’
‘You don’t understand . . . no one understands,’ he said. He saw the hurt in her eyes was instant. Good. Drive her away. Keep her at a distance like everyone else. He paced out to the terrace. Everything looked grey in the twilight. She followed.
‘I’m responsible,’ he muttered. ‘I booked the boat. I dumped my brother on my mother. My father couldn’t save them both. He drowned trying to rescue them.’ He leant heavily on the balcony railing. ‘If I’d only —’
‘If I’d only made my mother keep her doctor’s appointment.’ Sienna spoke so quietly he strained to hear her. ‘If I’d taken the time to notice how tired she was,’ she whispered, matching his position at the balustrade. ‘Don’t you think I might understand? To lose family and feel responsible?’
He could feel her eyes but he couldn’t look at her. He’d shatter. If he let her in . . .
‘How did she die?’ he asked, his eyes fixed on the mountains slowly surrendering to shadow.
‘Breast cancer.’ The words caught in her throat.
‘There’s nothing you could have done.’
She grabbed his arm and pulled him to face her. Her eyes brimmed with tears. He wanted to run. Run from all the pain. The grief. The agony of loss. Push it all away and return to the strict order he’d imposed on his life.
‘Just as there is nothing you could have done.’ A tear escaped and slid down her cheek. ‘The accident wasn’t your fault,’ she said.
His mind screamed at him to run but he gently wiped the tear from her soft skin. They were both broken by grief and yet Sienna had faced life and love head on. In fact, she’d risked everything for the father she loved. What had he done? Pushed away everyone who loved him and filled his life with every distraction money and position could give him.