The Italian Marriage

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I know Marcus, and I know what he really wants is Liam, and if I don’t hand him over—which I won’t—then I’ll be out of here.’

‘Come on, Gemma. I think you are over-dramatising things. He’s not a member of the Mafia, he’s a wealthy, upright businessman with a reputation to uphold. He’d hardly take over a company just to get his child. This is big business.’

‘This is chicken feed to Marcus Rossini,’ Gemma maintained firmly.

‘Well, even if you’re right and he has bought this place with ulterior motives in mind, it won’t get him anywhere. Apart from offering you incentives and pleading with you, there is nothing Marcus Rossini can do to get his son—nothing.’

‘You think not?’ Gemma looked up at him uncertainly. She really wanted to believe that.

‘Honey, he could have all the money in the world but the judges will still come down on the side of the mother. He must know that.’

Gemma started to feel calmer. ‘I suppose you’re right…I mean, it’s not as if I’m a bad mother, is it?’

Richard smiled and perched on the edge of her desk. ‘You are a wonderful mother and Liam adores you.’ He reached out and touched her face in a gentle caress. The contact was similar to the way Marcus had traced a finger down and along her skin a few moments ago, but this stirred no feeling of fire inside her, created no chaos, no wild clamour of heartbeats…nothing. Gemma wished it had, and the feeling of emptiness and panic welled up inside her all over again.

‘How about I take you out tomorrow night for dinner?’ Richard suggested lightly.

‘I’m seeing Marcus so we can discuss the future.’ She felt the words cause a tremor inside her.

‘Okay, well, Saturday night, then. We’ll have dinner and take in a movie as well. How’s that?’

‘Sounds like fun.’ Even as she accepted the date, Gemma’s thoughts were backtracking towards what she had just said. Without even realizing what she was doing, she had told Richard she was seeing Marcus tomorrow.

Was she really going to go for dinner with Marcus after all her strong and determined words to the contrary?

‘Anyway, I’d better get back to my desk, pretend to be busy whilst the new boss is in the building.’ Richard smiled.

Gemma smiled back, but she was only half listening.

‘And don’t worry, Gemma.’

Easy for him to say, Gemma thought darkly as the door closed behind him. Marcus always got what he wanted. Freddie had told her that a long time ago, only he had said it in an admiring way. Freddie had adored his big brother, had hero-worshipped him. Long before Gemma had even met Marcus, she had heard all about him from Freddie.

Even now, when she thought about Francis Rossini—Freddie, as his family and friends affectionately called him—there was still an element of pain.

They had met at Oxford University and an instant friendship had sprung up between them. It was hard not to like Freddie; he was so full of enthusiasm and fun. Wherever Freddie was, there was sure to be a crowd of people gathered around him, laughing and having a good time. He had cut a dashing figure around Oxford in his bright red sports car and women had flocked to him, adoring his dark Latin good looks.

Francis Rossini could have had any woman he wanted but he had wanted Gemma. And that was where the problem had started because, although Gemma had thought Freddie was wonderful, she hadn’t been in love with him. From the first moment he had kissed her she had known he wasn’t the man for her and she had gently tried to tell him so.

‘I love you dearly as a friend,’ she had told him firmly. ‘But the chemistry between us isn’t right.’

‘You want thunderbolts and lightning?’ Freddie had said, undeterred. ‘Then let me take you to bed and I’ll give you the best electrical storm you’ve ever known.’

‘No electrical storms, Freddie,’ she had said, trying not to smile at the melodramatic tone of his voice. ‘Just friends.’

But it had made no difference; Freddie had still pursued her with fervour. He had showered her with flowers and gifts. And in the final year at University, just before they graduated, he had proposed. Gemma had been stunned. She hadn’t thought Freddie was that serious! In fact, he had had a bit of a wild reputation where women were concerned and she had assumed that a lot of his displays of affection were just down to his Latin charm. As gently as she could, she had turned him down.

He had taken the refusal well, and they had continued to be friends, but Gemma had been careful to keep him at a distance, never to see him on his own but always to be accompanied by their circle of friends.

After graduation, Gemma had found it difficult to get the kind of job she wanted. She had gone for interview after interview and everywhere the answer had been the same; her qualifications were good but they were looking for someone with more experience.

‘How do you get experience if no one will give you a chance!’ she exclaimed in disgust on her fourteenth interview of the week. ‘I could be the best damn person in the world for this job but you’re never going to find out if you don’t employ me.’

‘We’re a national publication group, Ms Hampton,’ the editor said patiently. ‘We need someone experienced for this position. However, I do have something that might suit. There is a vacancy for a junior on features—’

‘I’ll take it,’ Gemma said instantly.

‘Well, I haven’t told you yet what it entails.’

‘It doesn’t matter. I won’t be there long, once you discover how good I am.’

The editor smiled at that. ‘I like your style, Ms Hampton. Welcome to the Morning Sentinel.’

The job was even more menial than she had expected. The pay was lousy, as were the hours, and the main job skills needed seemed to be making tea and being the chief gofer. But she hadn’t minded because at least she was in where the action was, and she was content to wait for the chance to prove herself.

That chance came sooner than she had anticipated. The paper wanted to run an article on Marcus Rossini, but the man in control of the Rossini publishing empire guarded his privacy fiercely and never gave interviews. Gemma seized her opportunity and went straight to Freddie to ask for his help.

‘If I pull strings and get you an interview, what’s it worth?’ Freddie asked, a gleam of mischief in his dark eyes.

‘I’ll treat you to dinner at the Ritz.’

‘How about accompanying me to my sister’s wedding this summer? I’m short of a date.’

‘Freddie, you are never short of a date. You have any number of glamorous woman falling at your feet.’

‘But it’s not them I want.’

She looked at him in consternation, scared suddenly that he still harboured romantic feelings for her.

Immediately he held up his hands. ‘Hey, I’m not getting any ideas. I’m just asking you as a friend. My father’s house has enough bedrooms to sleep an entire football team. And everyone would love to meet you. You’ll love it…and you’ll fall in love with Rome.’

‘Rome! The wedding is in Rome!’ Gemma’s eyes widened. ‘I couldn’t possibly go with you, Freddie. It’s too far away.’

Freddie laughed at that. ‘It’s a couple of hours on a plane.’

‘People will think I’m your girlfriend—’

‘Well, you are a girl and you are a friend, aren’t you? Anyway, do you want this interview with my big brother or not?’

‘That’s blackmail, Francis Rossini,’ she admonished sternly.

‘That’s life, Gemma Hampton.’ He grinned back.

And so, against her better judgement, she agreed. She was hungry for success and she knew the interview would be a coup, launching her career forward in style. But she hadn’t been prepared for it to change her life quite so radically.

Gemma remembered everything about that first meeting with Marcus in vivid detail.