Stolen Bride. Sally Carr
It was something that up until now she thought only she knew. Just who was this man sitting next to her? Helping to boot Luca so surely, right in the middle of his pride?
‘Maybe he won’t...hurt you,’ she offered, not sure at all what she was saying. ‘I mean, when I’ve explained...’
‘I heard you trying a bit of explaining at the altar,’ replied Finn drily. ‘Maybe I’m not very observant, but somehow, he didn’t look too bowled over by your reasoning.’
‘He’s... he’s very hot-blooded,’ began Cara.
‘So am I,’ drawled Finn, taking the turn for the autostrada. ‘And I’d like to stay that way.’
The entrance to the autostrada was getting closer, but before they reached it, Finn took a sharp right turn down a cart track into a small wood. He drove carefully through the trees, the car’s suspension protesting loudly at the pits and bumps, before coming to a stop as the trees began to thin out by the side of another road.
He switched off the ignition and looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Okay,’ he said at last. ‘We’ll wait here until dark. I don’t want to take any chances of someone spotting you. I don’t think anyone saw the car, and only an idiot would expect us to hide right under your relatives’ noses.’ He shrugged. ‘Not that Luca is exactly in the genius class. But I reckon this is our best chance. We’ll be all right here for a while.’
She breathed out, a little shakily, noting the use of the word we and not sure what it implied. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘But I want to know—’
He sighed and she stopped, uncertain once more about the kind of man she was dealing with. ‘Don’t thank me,’ he drawled. ‘You’re in deep trouble, if you hadn’t already realised it.’ He waved his hand at the trees and smiled. ‘We are not out of the woods yet.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t care,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Nothing could be worse than being Luca’s wife.’
Finn shifted easily in his seat. ‘Well, there’s something in that,’ he conceded.
She decided to begin again. ‘Who are you? Are you...’ She swallowed. ‘Are you someone with a grudge against my uncle?’
He looked at her reflectively. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘And before you start on that catalogue of questions you’ve obviously got, I might as well say that I’m not sure I want to tell you too much about me. You’re a rather dangerous woman to know, Cara Gambini.’
She stared at him, amazed. ‘Dangerous?’ she echoed. ‘Me?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, you. I don’t know you, and I don’t know how serious you are about getting away from your family.’
‘I want to get away from Luca, not my family,’ she said hotly.
‘Is there a difference?’ he asked gently.
There was silence while Cara looked woodenly at her dress. Then he asked, ‘Have you any idea what you want to do now? A plan, maybe?’
‘A plan?’ she echoed blankly. She had never in her life been asked such a question. Everybody else always made plans for her. Suddenly Cara found herself thinking of possibilities and consequences. And all of them looked black.
She eyed the stranger doubtfully. ‘What about you? Do you have a plan?’
He scratched his jaw. ‘Oh, plenty,’ he agreed. ‘But unfortunately I made most of them before I attended your wedding. And none of them included a runaway bride with half the thugs in Naples on her tail.’
She bit her lip and stared at him in astonishment. ‘You mean you have no idea what we’re going to do at all?’
He gazed levelly at her. ‘No.’
She met his eyes and noticed little dark flecks in the deep blue. With an impatient shake of her head, she tore her gaze away and stared out the window. For the first time in her life, she was truly on her own. And she would have to start making some decisions. Fast.
‘Okay,’ she said at last, a lump rising in her throat as she grasped the door handle. ‘I’ll get out of your way then.’
He reached across her, his hand on hers, her body stilling at the close contact. His face was only inches from her own, his eyes probing deep into hers. Then he pulled back, her hand imprisoned in his, and gazed at her for a few moments.
‘Let’s start again, shall we?’ he said softly. ‘First of all, is there any place that you could safely go? Somewhere Luca and your uncle won’t be able to coerce you?’
‘There is only my uncle’s home,’ she said in a low voice. Finn was stroking the back of her fingers with his thumb, almost as if it was helping him think. Her first instinct, to pull away completely, slowly melted at the oddly comforting sensation.
‘Maybe,’ she began diffidently, ‘maybe it would be all right if I went home. If I tell them it wasn’t nerves, that I truly don’t love Luca, then maybe they’ll listen.’
‘Really?’ Finn drawled. His eyes gazed into hers, and she reddened and looked away.
‘I’m sure my uncle wants only what is best for me,’ she said in low voice.
‘Uh-huh,’ he replied, his tone loaded with disbelief, and she glanced angrily at him.
‘Who are you to pass such judgement on my family?’ she demanded.
‘Let’s say I’m an interested observer,’ he said at last.
‘Observer?’ she echoed. ‘What did you say your name was?’
‘Finn—’
‘Cormac!’ she interjected, pulling her hand away and glaring at him. ‘Finn Cormac. I know now! You are the...’ She tried to think of a suitable swear word and failed. “The...thing who wrote all those lies about Luca’s family. You made millions out of blackening his name. You—’
He held up his hand. ‘Save it,’ he interrupted. ‘In the first place, everything I wrote was true. Luca is just one step ahead of the police at the moment, and two steps from a very long jail term. And in the second, the money I made out of that book, I earned. Unlike the fortune his family has extorted and stolen and been bribed with over the last thirty years.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘That’s a lie,’ she whispered.
‘Okay.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s a lie, and your jilted bridegroom is a saint in disguise. So what are you going to do about it?’
She jerked open the car door. ‘I’m going home,’ she snarled, angry tears beginning to fill her eyes.
‘To marry Luca?’ he said softly.
Her hand stilled on the door. ‘What else can I do?’ she said in a low voice. ‘I have nowhere else to go. I have no one but my family.’ She swallowed a sob. ‘Luca’s not so bad, I suppose.’
Finn shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with a woman in the late twentieth century,’ he said. ’Have you no independence at all?’
She stiffened her body and stared at him. ‘Independence?’ she echoed, trying to match his tone. ‘In my family? How can I be independent? I have no money, I am not qualified to do anything except...’ She waved her hands. ‘Except marry, run a home and bring up children.’
She glared at him. ‘Maybe if I’d been brought up somewhere else I’d be running an oil company, like in those soaps you see on TV. But I wasn’t, and I’m not, and I can’t help it.’
He looked at her for a long moment and then lifted his hands helplessly and dropped them. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I suppose that was a rather stupid remark.’
Cara relaxed a little at his tone. ‘I know that