His Discarded Bride #thefictionawards2019

Part Twelve

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Renato fumed that the last thing he needed was Vittorio feeling that he had to intervene with his marriage. He knew what needed to be done. He left the office early and decided to arrange a bit of alone time with Leilani. They were to be married this weekend, and he needed to ensure that she didn't change her mind.

"Get dressed; I'll be home shortly to pick you up," he stated without preamble.

"To be honest, I don't feel like going out at the moment."

Her tone sounded flat, which was not a good sign. "All the more reason to get you out of the apartment." When she didn't reply, he added, "I promise you that you will enjoy yourself. So do me a favour, hmm? Find a cute dress and sandals, your sunnies, and a hat, and put them on. I'll be home in fifteen minutes or so.

He could insist and manipulate her further into this marriage, or he could try sweetening the deal for her. Renato would show her a good time: wine and dine her, and bed her, in that order. He'd noticed the change in her over the past couple of days. The tell-tale signs: a furtive glance when she didn't think he was watching. Flushing cheeks when he touched her, and, most importantly, the hitching of her breath when he leant in to kiss her, and the shine in her eyes that couldn't mask her emerging feelings.

He arrived at the apartment, and, surprisingly, Leilani was ready and waiting for him. He marveled at the difference in her appearance from a week ago. Renato complimented her as she got in and buckled her seatbelt. "That dress was made for you." He wanted to say more, but since this afternoon was about wooing her, he held back. If they'd already consummated the relationship, he wouldn't have bothered taking her out; he would have hauled her straight up to his room or any private area he could find. The dress was modest in cut, just above the knee, tempting his hands to slide beneath the silky folds and explore those thighs and higher. He cut off his thoughts; he would drive himself crazy, and there were several hours to go until he would reach that goal.

"How was your day?" he asked, smiling at her. He would allow her to bring up Vittorio. She was already mistrustful enough. If he broached the subject, she would think they were conspiring further against her.

"It was okay."

He could see that he was going to need a bucket-load of patience. "Did you decide on a dress?"

Leilani could see that he was trying, and if she were to marry him, she would need to get to know him better. She was still smarting from her conversation with Vittorio, and what she craved was time out to figure out what to do.

Both men were so powerful that she had no choice but to comply, and she still needed a tactic. It was important that she figure out how to guard her heart against getting trampled further than it already was. Right now, it was in pieces at her feet, completely unrecognizable. Picking up the pieces— what a lovely cliché— but how did she start when she didn't know which part to begin with? Renato's presence just confused her further.

The war in her mind quietened down, and Leilani opted for politeness, "Yes, actually; I found a lovely dress."

"That's great. Look, Leilani. I know that your head is probably spinning right now with so many things happening," he said as he moved his eyes off the road and glanced at her. She was looking straight ahead, her profile stiff. "I want things to work between us, regardless of our forced union. I think the two of us could end up being a great couple," he cajoled, and this time when he glanced at her, she faced him, and he could see her eyes welling up.

"How would you know that? You know nothing about me, Renato. We are to wed in a few days, and what do you know about me? Not a thing. Do you know what I even do for work, my favourite colour, interests, music I like? I could continue and list a mile of preferences and loves, and you would be lucky to guess one or two things about me. How will we make it work under these circumstances? All I feel is mistrust and suspicion, and can you blame me after the way you have underhandedly brought this marriage about?" Tears had started to fall in earnest, and he pulled the car over.