A Shadow of Guilt - By Abby Green Page 0,10

and how hot she’d felt between her legs.

‘What things?’

Valentina looked blankly at Gio now, her mind still dazed from the memory.

‘You said things have happened?’

Valentina came crashing back to earth. Why on earth was she remembering such traitorous memories when only one was important? The memory of when she and her parents had rushed into that hospital in Palermo only to be stopped by a doctor and told that their son was dead.

Valentina focused on that now and crossed her arms even tighter across her chest. This man owed her. Owed her parents. Owed her brother. ‘Your aunt refused to pay me for the catering at the wedding.’

Gio frowned. ‘Did you tell her you wouldn’t accept non-payment?’

Valentina flushed. She’d been so angry and emotional after seeing Gio that when she’d come face to face with Carmela Corretti and the woman had still refused to pay her even though people were sitting down to the six-course meal, despite the shambles of the wedding, that she’d threatened legal action.

Even now Valentina could almost laugh at the folly of her naivety! As if a mere mortal like her could take on a Corretti. Carmela had looked at her and her face had gone white and then red with anger at this impudence.

‘You dare to threaten me with legal action.’

Hands on hips, gone too far to back down now, Valentina had fumed. ‘Yes, I do. You don’t scare me, you know.’

Carmela had just smiled and said as if she were remarking on the weather, ‘You can consider yourself not only not paid, Ms Ferranti, you can also consider yourself blacklisted from every catering job on this island. I did warn you, did I not?’

Valentina had gasped at the unfairness of this attack. ‘But there’s nothing wrong with the menu or the catering service.’

‘No,’ agreed Carmela almost cheerfully. ‘But, there is everything wrong with you and your attitude, young lady.’

That had been too much for Valentina, to be spoken to so patronisingly by a Corretti. She’d seen an ice bucket nearby full of water and her hands had itched to pour it over the woman’s head. But she’d been saved from that impetuous action when the abandoned groom had reappeared and suddenly Carmela had pushed Valentina out of the way to go to him.

Gio said nothing for a long moment and then, ‘I think I would have paid to see my aunt with a full ice bucket over her head.’

Valentina snuck a look at Gio’s expression. And then as she watched, his eyes sparkled and his mouth twitched. It was so unexpected to see this, that to her horror, Valentina could feel a lightness bubbling up inside herself too. No! her brain screamed. Do not let him close, do not let him charm you.

Fighting the lightness down with an iron will Valentina suddenly realised that she’d been totally and utterly wrong to come here. Had she come because seeing Gio last week had precipitated a dangerous need to see him again? The very thought of such a susceptibility made her feel nauseous.

Without even thinking about it, she’d whirled around to the door and had her hand on the handle before she felt a much larger hand around her upper arm, tugging her back. That touch sent tremors of sensation and wanting into her blood. She had to leave now.

She pulled her arm free and looked up at Gio, who was too close. ‘I made a mistake coming here.’

All lightness was gone from Gio now; his eyes were flashing green, his mouth was tight. ‘You hardly came all the way here from Palermo for nothing, Valentina.’

She shook her head, feeling sick. Memories were coming up too thick and fast, jumbling everything up, when she had to remember why she hated this man. ‘I shouldn’t have come. I thought you could help me with something but I forgot—I don’t want … need your help.’

And then she yanked the door open and ran all the way out of his building and didn’t stop till she got to her rusty old car.

Gio slammed the door shut after Valentina left and put his two hands against it and dropped his head. ‘Damn, damn, damn.’

That evening when Valentina got home from checking on her parents she paced the floor of her tiny spartan apartment. Things were not good. Her father hadn’t looked well at all, pasty and slightly sweaty, but he’d brushed aside her concerns. Worry knotted Valentina’s insides. She hadn’t told them yet of the debacle of her career which