The Forced Bride by Sara Craven Page A

thought, as she went up the wide sweep of staircase. Nor was he following her.
    But she breathed more easily when she reached her room and, having stumblingly dismissed the maid who was waiting to
    assist her, showered and cleaned her teeth in the palatial bathroom, then put on the nightdress that Penny must have
    substituted for the satin pyjamas she’d intended to bring and climbed up into that monster of a bed.
    It was a very comfortable monster, she discovered, and the linen was scented with rose-water. But she couldn’t relax.
    She kept watching the communicating door, asking herself what she would do if it opened, and dreading the moment
    when she might be called on to make a decision.
    But, just when she’d resolved it was safe enough to put out the lamp and get some sleep, she heard a faint noise and
    looked up to see Raf standing there in the open doorway. He was barefoot, his jacket and tie discarded and his shirt
    half-unbuttoned, revealing the strong column of his throat and the dark smooth skin of his chest.
    For what seemed an eternity they stared at each other. Emily sat transfixed, her heart thudding erratically, her mouth
    suddenly dry, aware that one lacy strap had slipped down from her shoulder, but not daring to adjust it. Just waiting for
    him to say something—do something.
    But when he moved, it was simply to put out a hand and steady himself against the doorframe. For a terrible moment she
    thought he was drunk and tensed involuntarily. However, when he spoke his voice was crisp and clear, without slurring.
    ‘Emilia, my household has—expectations about tonight and its usual significance, which may have caused you concern.
    ‘I wish to say that you have no need to fear that I will break my word to you. Today’s ceremony changed nothing and
    our marriage is still a business arrangement which can—will remain in name only, as you wish. Then, when you are twenty
    one, you will be free to live your own life and—find happiness.’
    He made her a slight bow, then he was gone, closing the door firmly behind him.
    For a long time, Emily recalled, she’d sat quite still, gazing unseeingly into space, aware only of the still-flurried race of her
    heart. And when, eventually, she’d reached for the lamp switch, she’d discovered that her hand was shaking
    uncontrollably.
    Just as it was trembling again now, at this moment, as she picked up the carton of coffee in front of her and drank.
    Why am I doing this to myself she asked with a kind of desperation. Remembering all this—stuff. It must be the most
    pointless exercise of my entire life. Because it changes nothing. It can’t…
    But perhaps it was something she needed to do, if only to convince herself that the stance she was taking was completely
    justified. That her relationship with Raf Di Salis had been null and void from the beginning and that it was hypocritical to
    pretend otherwise.
    Although she could quite see that it would be a blow to Raf’samour-propre to be forced to admit openly that his wife was
    not among his numerous conquests.
    In fact, he’d been prepared to go to considerable lengths to present a very different picture of their relationship, she
    recalled, wincing.
    It had been the morning after the wedding and it seemed to Emily that she’d only just managed to drop into a restless
    sleep when she had been woken by a hand on her shoulder and opened heavy eyes to see Raf standing beside the bed.
    She’d sat up, pushing back her hair, instantly defensive.
    ‘What do you want’ Her voice was husky.
    His mouth tightened. ‘To give you this.’ He held out a small leather box. ‘Open it,’ he directed.
    She obeyed and gasped when she saw the beautiful square sapphire enclosed by small diamonds that it contained.
    ‘An engagement ring’ She frowned in bewilderment. ‘Isn’t it a little late for that’
    ‘It is a family tradition,’ he said quietly. ‘This ring is given by each Count to his bride on the first day