The next morning, Olivia couldn’t settle. She and Alex rose late then had breakfast together in the sunroom, but he was preoccupied and soon afterwards went to the study to work. She knew he had a lot to prepare with the launch of the perfume in a few weeks’ time, but she still had to fight that feeling of neglect again. So she made calls to Lianne and her mother, only to find they were still getting along just fine without her.
Everyone seemed to be busy except her.
She needed to throw herself into work.
Without warning a vision came to her for her next design and she remembered the colors of the light-blue sky blending with the dark-blue ocean spilling white froth along the golden sand. The effect was eye-catching and perfect for her next designs.
She would call it the Valente Collection, she decided. After all, she was a Valente now, if only temporarily. And Alex had said they could eventually combine her designs with Valente’s Woman perfume.
She hurried to find her sketchbook and pencils, intending to sit on the balcony and draw with the full view of the ocean before her. Only, this far away the vibe wasn’t quite the same. She needed to get up closer and steep herself in the colors and textures of the scene. It was important that she connect with her surroundings.
Alex need never know, she decided as she left the house. Heck, she wasn’t going to be told what to do anyway. If she wanted to go down to the beach, she would. This was her work, and she wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity just to appease a husband who was busy with his own work anyway.
Of course, walking along the dirt path to the beach hadn’t seemed scary when she was with Alex, but now she could hear all sorts of noises in the grass that reminded her of snakes.
She picked up a long stick just in case, and made sure her footsteps trod heavily, hoping any slithery surprises would hear her coming and disappear into the longer grass.
It was a relief when she reached the beach, but she didn’t want to think about the walk back to the house so she put it out of her mind. In next to no time, she’d made herself comfortable on the sand, with a small grassy dune at her back as she reached for her pencils, blocked out the world and began to let the magic take over.
She had no idea how long she stayed there, but it wasn’t until a shadow fell across her that she realized it must have been a while, perhaps even a couple of hours. She looked up and angled her chin, expecting it to be Alex. Only the man standing there didn’t resemble her husband at all.
In his fifties, he leaned forward and looked at the design on the paper. “Is that going to be in your next collection?”
A reporter.
Ignoring him, she quickly closed her sketchbook and got to her feet. In her haste, she dropped the book and gasped when he scooped it up before she could.
She held out her hand. “That belongs to me. If you don’t return it I’ll call the police.”
“Little lady, I intend to return it,” he said with a smirk. “After you answer a few questions for me.”
An interview.
“Look, you obviously know who I am. You must also know that I’m on my honeymoon.” She wanted to snatch the book out of his hand, but she made herself stay calm.
“Speaking of honeymoons, I’m surprised your husband lets you out of his sight.”
She knew that whatever she said could be misconstrued. If she said Alex was working, this man would make something of it and report that their marriage was already on the rocks. If she said Alex was napping, the papers would report him ill, or worse, on his deathbed.
“He’ll be along shortly,” she said, hoping to give herself time to reason with this man.
He snorted.
And then, miracle of miracles, she saw Alex striding toward them, a thunderous expression on his face that she knew was for her. “See, I told you,” she told the older man and was pleased to see him blanch. Good. He was nothing but a bully.
“What’s going on here?” Alex demanded, stepping close, putting himself between her and the other man in a protective fashion.
She could afford to relax a little now. “Alex, no need to worry. I dropped my sketchbook and this, er…man was just giving it back.” She held out her hand. “I’ll take that now, thank you.”
The reporter looked at Alex then at her, then finally gave it back. “Here we are, little lady.”
Olivia took it, pretending she didn’t want to snatch it to her breast. And if he called her “little lady” again she’d probably hit him with it.
Alex turned to Olivia. “Right. Lunch is ready,” he said, then taking her by the elbow he shot the other man a hard look and led her away, a bit like a hardened criminal on the run. Any moment now, she expected him to bring out the handcuffs.
Once out of earshot and on the dirt path back to the house, he growled, “What the hell were you thinking, coming down here by yourself?”
She shrugged, hoping to dislodge his hand, but his grip was firm. “I needed to do my designs and the best place for that was down here at the beach.”
“I told you I would bring you down here myself.”
“You were working. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“I prefer that you disturb me.” He shot her a searing sideways gaze. “See what can happen when you don’t listen?”
She frowned. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?”
His jaw clenched. “No.”
“But—”
“No buts. The guy was a reporter who would have stolen your designs if I hadn’t turned up. And there wouldn’t have been a bloody thing you could have done about it.”
“I’d have charged him with theft,” she said with more bravado than she felt.
He flashed her a look of disdain. “So you know his name then? You know where he lives? And you have proof he stole your designs?”
She grimaced. Put like that…
“It’s as well you came along then,” she conceded, glad to see they were coming up to the house. Anger radiated from him in waves, and this would be a good time to escape to the bedroom.
Without warning he halted, a pulse beating in his cheekbone. “You just don’t get it, do you? You don’t know what could have happened. You don’t know—” He stopped, let go of her elbow before he expelled a breath, then stormed off with a snarled, “Forget it.”
She stared after him in surprise, his back ramrod straight as he strode past the front steps and down the side of the house to the rear. What on earth was his problem? This was definitely over the top.
Then she realized Harriet was standing on the veranda watering some potted plants, her face full of concern.
Olivia let out a slow breath and continued walking to the house, then up the steps. She wasn’t sure how much she should say, if anything, but Harriet was no fool.
“He found you then?” the older woman said, putting the small watering can down on the table.
Olivia nodded. “Yes.”
Harriet sighed. “He was concerned when he couldn’t find you. He seemed to know you’d gone down to the beach.”
Olivia gave a defensive shrug, still stinging from Alex’s reaction. “I decided to do some drawings, that’s all. I’m not sure why that’s a problem.”
The other woman’s eyes softened. “Olivia, don’t be too hard on him. He has his reasons for getting upset. All the Valente men do.”
Olivia’s forehead creased. “Why? What do you mean?”
“His mother, Isabel, was attacked on that beach twenty years ago,” Harriet said, making Olivia gasp. “It was late afternoon and they’d all gone down there for a swim. Afterward they were coming back here when Isabel realized she’d left a beach towel behind and she went back to get it.” She winced. “No one thought anything of it.”
“And?”
“For some reason, Alex decided to go back and check on her while the others continued walking home. When he got there, the beach was deserted except for some drunk who was trying to force her to the ground. Alex was only fifteen but he got the man away from her. Then Nick appeared and the police were called and the man was charged with assault, but everyone was horrified at what could have happened.”
“Oh my God,” Olivia murmured, picturing it all. No wonder Alex had been adamant she not go down there alone. To find his stepmother being attacked must have been terrible.
“No one ever talks about it,” Harriet continued, “but it’s always at the back of our minds. Alex would have been worried something might happen to you.”
Olivia shivered in the heat of the day. “Thank you for telling me, Harriet. At least I understand now.”
“And that’s half the battle,” Harriet said, smiling in sympathy.
Olivia gave a small smile in return. “Yes.”
But she had to wonder what the other half of the battle would be.
Olivia stayed out of Alex’s way for the rest of the day, while he stayed in the study working. She felt bad now for giving him such a fright. If only he’d told her what had happened with Isabel at the beach, she’d have understood and tried not to worry him.
Poor Isabel. It must have been a terrible experience for her.
And poor Alex. He’d be the first to save anyone from being hurt, not just a loved one.
Not that she was a loved one. Not in that sense. No, being Alex’s wife didn’t mean anything more than that he would protect her if she needed it.
So why did she feel strangely disappointed it wasn’t more than that?
Pushing that thought aside, and as a peace offering, she decided to have a candlelit dinner for the two of them. She put her head together with Harriet and they came up with a rack of lamb with roast pumpkin salad, followed by a berry ice cream log.
Then Olivia lazed by the pool for the rest of the afternoon, working on her designs until just before six. She was glad that Alex didn’t seek her out, and suspected he was still in the study.
He was.
He put down his pen and leaned back in the leather chair, when she entered the room. She told him Harriet was preparing a special dinner for them.
“What time?” he said, distractedly.
“Seven-thirty.”
He looked at his watch, then back at her. “I’ll be there.”
She frowned. “You shouldn’t be working so hard, Alex.”
A shadow of irritation crossed his face. “It has to be done.”
“Harriet won’t forgive you if you fall asleep in her dinner.”
He held her eyes for a moment, then straightened and picked up his pen. “I’ll be fine.”
She paused. “You won’t forget, will you?”
“I’ll be there,” he said without looking up.
Aware she was being dismissed, she went up to the bedroom and took her time dressing in one of her own designs that was casual yet dressy enough for dinner. She was just putting the finishing touches to her makeup when she heard the splash of someone diving into the swimming pool outside.
Going to the side window, she looked down and saw Alex doing laps of the pool. He was magnificent as he sliced through the water, his broad shoulders tanned and toned, no doubt getting rid of pent-up energy.
And that was a good thing, she thought, tempted to stay and watch some more, but forcing herself to go down to the kitchen to check that everything was set with Harriet.
She was in the dining room, unnecessarily straightening the settings on the table, when Alex came into the room right on seven-thirty. Dressed in beige cargo pants and a blue shirt, he looked fresh and vital and more handsome than ten men put together.
His gaze slid over her white sleeveless dress flaring gently to her calves, a gold belt looping her waist. A glint of approval in his eyes made her stomach dip before he transferred his gaze to the flickering candelabra.
There was a slight lift of his brow. “Candles? It’s not even dark yet.”
She ignored his lack of romanticism. “I know, but it adds a nice touch, don’t you think?” She gestured with her hand. “Here. Sit down. The food’s all ready to be served from this trolley here.” It had hot and cold compartments.
“Harriet isn’t serving us?” he asked, coming forward and holding out a chair for her first, then sitting opposite her.
“No. She and Martin have gone into town to watch a movie.”
His lips twisted as he looked over the table. “At least we’ve convinced Harriet this is a real marriage.”
She blinked. “This wasn’t Harriet’s idea. It was mine.”
His glance sharpened. “I see.”
She squared her shoulders. “I wanted to apologize, Alex. For this morning. I didn’t know about Isabel being attacked.”
His eyes shuttered even more than usual. “I see Harriet’s been talking too much.”
She tilted her head. “That’s why you didn’t care about leaving the sandals on the beach. It reminds you of Isabel going back for the towel, doesn’t it?”
The line of his mouth tightened and his shoulders stiffened, but a second later he reached over and lifted the wine bottle out of the ice bucket. “I don’t like to analyze things,” he said in a nonchalant fashion that didn’t fool her one bit.
No, he wouldn’t, she thought, watching him as he poured her a glass of wine, then one for himself. “I’m surprised your father didn’t sell up after that.”
A muscle jerked in his jaw. “No, we love it here,” he said brusquely.
She nodded. This would be the one place they must all feel like a family, despite him not getting on with his father over the years. And for that reason it must be very special to Alex.
She took a sip of wine before saying, “Why didn’t you explain it to me? I would have understood. I wouldn’t have gone down there alone if I’d known.”
His gaze speared hers. “You trusted me enough to marry me, but perhaps you’ve got to learn to trust me in other ways.”
She winced, his remark taking the wind out of her sails. Placing her trust in someone wasn’t exactly the easiest thing for her to do. It was the hardest. She knew he understood where she was coming from but—
“Yes, I suppose that’s the next step,” she quietly agreed.
Just then the evening sun shone through the windows of the sunroom and caught the angles of Alex’s face, throwing part of it in shadow.
She realized something then. For all his talk about trust, he was the one keeping something of himself in the shadows. He hadn’t explained why he hadn’t told her about Isabel in the first place.
Trust worked both ways, didn’t it?
She opened her mouth to say all this to him, but another thought hit her. Or was this about something rather than trust? Was this more about him not sharing his emotions with her? His fears?
Yes, it was.
And as much as she hated to admit it, Alex’s attitude was a refreshing change when all the men in her life—her stepfathers, even Eric to a deceptive degree—had been the first to share their fears with her.
Everything, actually.
They’d nearly driven her mad with their confidences. If she had to choose, she’d prefer a man who didn’t need to share too many of his feelings. There was a time and a place for talking but she definitely liked the strong, silent type.
Alex was one of those.
Something softened inside her. “Alex, do you think our dinner will spoil if we leave it for a while?”
He scowled. “I shouldn’t think so. Why?”
She got to her feet and held out her hand. “I want to make love to you, Alex,” she said huskily. “Do you mind?”
He looked shocked but recovered quickly. “I’d be a fool if I did.” He got to his feet and put his hand in hers. “And I’m no fool.”