A Legacy of Secrets - By Carol Marinelli Page 0,48
said. ‘I made a mistake. I thought if we just concentrated on work till after shooting, then it would be better for the movie.’
‘And now you’ve changed your mind?’
‘Yes.’
‘And will you change it again tomorrow?’ Santo said nastily. ‘Will you go back on your sex strike, because this is not a nice game, Ella.’
‘I’m not trying to play games.’
‘I have done everything you ask of me. I have never pushed you to do anything that you don’t want to do, but you signed out of this, Ella. I know things have been bad for you, but right now things are bad for me. That’s fine, I’ll wear it. I can deal with tough times—though it could have been a hell of a lot better with your support. But you were the one who chose separate rooms and not to be there. So now, if you will excuse me, I would like some dinner.’
‘Can I join you then?’
‘I already have company tonight,’ Santo said.
‘Marianna?’
‘Of course.’ He shrugged. ‘I have more to sort out than just this film at the moment.’ And she was determined not to go there, to just say nothing, but the words blazed from her eyes and, without hesitation, Santo answered them.
‘What?’ He wasn’t Sicilian for nothing. His words were harsh and direct. ‘Is she too good-looking for me to eat with?’ Santo demanded. ‘If I hire only ugly people will you trust me then?’ He looked at her for a long time. ‘You know, I don’t think you ever will.’
‘Do you blame me?’ She just stood there. ‘I’ve seen you in action, I know better than anyone....’
‘No.’ He walked right up to her face. ‘Don’t try to turn this on me. The fact that you will never trust me has nothing to do with me or my reputation, because you haven’t even given us a chance, not one. The fact is you don’t want to trust.’ Santo said. ‘We could be stuck on a desert island and there would still be a problem.’
He could see tears in her eyes and the burn on her cheeks as his words hit home, because he was right. It wasn’t Santo with some irredeemable past that was halting her. Ella didn’t actually know if she was capable of a full-blown relationship, did not know how to love and be fully, properly, completely loved back.
‘You deny us even a chance.’
‘No.’
‘Yes,’ Santo said. ‘You made it very clear right from the start that you wanted no relationship with me. You set the tone, so don’t blame me for meeting it. Don’t blame me for respecting the distance that you insisted upon.’ He raised his finger, to make a point in the way that every Italian man did. He watched her flinch, watched her head snap to the left, and his breathing came harder. ‘So,’ he said. ‘You think now that I would hit you?’
‘No.’
‘Yes.’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘I will not take the blame for him—I will not take the shame for him. You are as trapped as your mother,’ Santo said. ‘You might be on the other side of the world to him, but really, you have never left home.’
Santo could not have been more insulted.
‘I go now and eat with a grown-up.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
SANTO WAS RIGHT.
Sort of.
Ella lay on her bed and rather than denying his words, rather than defending herself to herself, instead she saw the hurt in his eyes, the absolute offence taken by Santo, and she didn’t blame him a bit.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to trust him, more that Ella simply didn’t know how to, had found it far safer to hide behind her career and excuses rather than take a chance with a relationship.
It didn’t feel such a safe place now. It felt empty, and worse, it felt selfish. Ella knew that she hadn’t been there for Santo, hadn’t shared in the tough times with him, and because of that, she might have blown their slim chance.
Why the hell had she had to go and fall in love with Santo though? Of all the billions of people on the globe, how had someone with major trust issues ended up with a man as wickedly bad as Santo? Ella even gave a wry smile to the heavens at the cruel lesson they had sent her, but then jumped when her phone rang. Now she wasn’t Santo’s PA, it was unusually quiet, but she jolted again when she heard who it was.
‘Mum?’ It was the first