The Italian’s Rightful Bride Read Online Free Page B

yourself,’ he said. ‘I don’t want you being too unwell for my wedding tomorrow, not when I owe it all to you.’
    The warmth in his voice was her undoing. She fled to her own room and locked the door. Tearing off her clothes, she got under a hot shower and stayed there, not moving, just leaning against the tiled wall.
    After a long time her brain started working again, enough to make her wonder how he’d come to be in thatcorridor at that hour. Then she remembered that it was near to where Crystal slept.
    She’d thought her tears were all cried out, but she found she was wrong. This time it was the shower that disguised them.
    Next day she sat in the body of the church, looking at Gustavo’s back as he waited for his bride, then saw him turn and watch her approach with an expression of such total adoration that she closed her eyes. For a dreadful moment she actually feared she was going to faint, but she recovered and sat rigid as Crystal became his wife.
    Now he was lost to her forever.
    But he’d been lost anyway. Her regret of last night had been foolish. He might have married her, but he would never, ever have loved her.
    The reception was followed by a ball at which she danced until she was ready to drop. That was how she met Freddy Manton, who seemed to appear from nowhere, a friend of a friend of a friend. He was handsome, charming and a great dancer. Their steps blended perfectly, and they put on a bravura display that made the others applaud.
    When the music became soft and tender Joanna and Freddy danced again, holding each other romantically close. It was her way of telling the world that she didn’t care whom Gustavo married. She hoped he would notice.
    But when he waltzed past with Crystal clasped in his arms, Joanna knew that he was oblivious to everyone else in the world. His bride’s face was raised to his, and for a cruel moment Joanna saw the worship in his gaze. She closed her eyes, feeling her brave pretence shatter around her.
    At last it was time for the bride and groom to leave for their honeymoon. Joanna had wanted to go straightto Italy, but Crystal had set her heart on Las Vegas, and Gustavo could refuse her nothing.
    Determined to play out the charade to the end, Joanna joined the crowd waving them off. Was it accident or spite that made Crystal toss the bouquet to her? She caught it instinctively, before she could stop herself, then stood there, clutching the bouquet that should always have been hers.
    It was only later that she fully understood what that day had done to her. She had passed through the fire and emerged stronger, because something that had been burned to ash could never be burned again.
    She enrolled in college, studied archaeology and blanked out grief by working herself into the ground.
    â€˜If you ask me you had a nervous breakdown,’ Aunt Lilian said later. ‘Whenever I saw you, you looked as if you were dying. And instead of being sensible like other girls, and taking a cruise, you made everything worse by working away at those awful books.’
    But far from making things worse, Joanna knew that ‘those awful books’ had saved her. After a year her tutors were predicting great things for her.
    Grief finally subsided into a dull ache that she managed to push aside in the fascination with the subject she loved.
    She made herself a promise. Never again would she allow herself to feel anything with the depth and intensity she’d felt for Gustavo. She knew she couldn’t stand it a second time.
    She was safe now. She could protect herself from hurt. But she had paid a terrible price.
    She began going to parties again, even enjoying them. Finally, one evening, as she was sipping champagne—
    â€˜Fancy meeting you here!’
    It was Freddy Manton, beaming at her.
    â€˜I looked for you later but you’d vanished,’ he said. ‘I’ve been heartbroken ever since.’
    â€˜You don’t look