Indiscretions - Elizabeth Adler [131]
“Where are you planning to be this summer?” he asked instead. “Sardinia or the south of France?”
“I don’t really know.” Renata was startled; it wasn’t quite what she’d expected him to say. “The de Bohans have asked me to stay at their villa in Antibes, but I haven’t decided yet.”
“You should go, Renata, you’d enjoy it.”
“Yes. Well, perhaps I may.” Renata was subdued. “What about you, Aldo?”
“I? I’m afraid I won’t be taking holidays for a long time, not until I get this place on its feet. Hopefully I’ll be helping other people enjoy their holidays instead. Look, India and Paris are going down to the beach. Shall we join them?”
“No,” said Renata abruptly. “I’m feeling rather tired. I think I’ll go to bed.”
“Good night, then, Renata. Sleep well.” Aldo kissed her gently, watching as she joined Marisa and his mother on the terrace.
He caught up with Paris and India by the steps that led down to the beach.
“I’ve come to gaze at the moon with you,” he called. “Renata’s gone to bed, she felt tired.”
Paris yawned extravagantly. “I’m afraid it’s been a long day for me. If you don’t mind I think I’ll turn in too.”
Aldo took India’s hand and helped her down the stone steps.
“It seems you and I are the only true romantics who long to see the moon’s path on the water,” he said.
“It seems so.”
He put his arm around India’s shoulders as they walked along the firm sand by the water. “India, I haven’t seen you alone all day. I’ve missed you.”
“Have you?”
“Haven’t you missed me?”
India didn’t answer, and he looked at her in surprise. “No, or yes?”
India took a deep breath and said it. “Aldo, are you going to marry Renata?”
“Why are you asking me such a question?” Aldo stared at her dumbfounded.
“I want you to tell me the truth. Are you?”
In the moonlight Aldo’s eyes were dark. It was impossible to read what he was thinking. “Has Renata suggested that we might be going to marry?”
“Well, no …”
“Then it’s Marisa! India, why would I be here with you? Why would I have spent these past weeks with you if I were in love with Renata?”
“Marisa didn’t say you were in love exactly. I mean, well, Renata has a lot of money and you need it for the estate.”
“Jesus Christ, India,” said Aldo furiously, “what sort of man do you think I am? Do you really think that I’d marry Renata, marry any woman, for her money? Why did you listen to that damned stupid woman, Marisa?” He shook India furiously. “You believed her!”
His anger was impressive and India stared back at him in dismay. “I didn’t know what to think … perhaps you might just have been flirting … maybe I was just a little ‘affaire’ for you.”
Aldo was shocked. “How could you think that? Let me tell you something, India. No Montefiore has ever married for money. We are a family of lovers, not financiers.”
India listened, awed, as Aldo’s anger gathered momentum. “I had not thought, India, that you could be so stupid as to believe a woman like Marisa Paroli.”
“I didn’t want to believe it. I really wanted to believe that you were falling in love with me.”
Aldo grabbed her again by the shoulders. “Of course I was falling in love with you. I’ve been falling in love with you ever since you spilled champagne on my jacket, but you’ve been keeping me at arm’s length. Come here.” He pulled her closer, tightening his arms around her. “You crazy girl,” he murmured between kisses, “of course I’m in love with you.”
India felt all her good resolutions melting along with his kisses. She ran her hands through his shaggy hair, holding him closer.
“Oh, Aldo. I love you, too, but I can’t be your mistress.”
“Mistress? Good God, India, I’m not asking you to be my mistress, I’m asking you to marry me.”
They stared at each other in the moonlight.
“Marry you?” asked India in astonishment. “But why?”
“Why? A thousand reasons. Which one do you want to hear? That I can’t run this hotel without you? You bossy American woman!”
India threw back her head and laughed. “That’s a sensible reason. I’m not sure