was silent for a moment, his gaze trained on Anna as she continued to try to roll onto her stomach, laughing as she fell back each time. ‘The housekeeper told me that you were packing,’ he said finally.
‘I asked her to help but she said she had to clear it with you first.’ Nicole sighed. ‘Thankfully I am under no such obligation.’
‘Can we at least talk before you go barrelling out of here?’ he said darkly. ‘Do you even know where you will go?’
Nicole steeled her resolve. He knew that she had very few options here. But her pride wouldn’t let her stay a moment longer.
She stood up, facing him with her chin held high. ‘I won’t talk to the press. You can pretend the engagement still stands if you want. We can keep this quiet for as long as you need for your deal to go through. Pretend the wedding has been postponed or something.’
‘What can I do to make you stay?’ He stood absolutely still, his hands deep in his pockets as he held her gaze.
Nicole shook her head, looking away from him and trying to find the right combination of words to let him know she couldn’t do this any more.
Rigo’s phone sounded, startling Anna with its shrillness. The baby began to sob. Nicole bent down to scoop her up in her arms, holding her close as Rigo began having what sounded like quite an urgent conversation in Italian.
He ended the call, looking up at her with the closest thing to panic as she had ever seen on his face. ‘Alberto has just called to say that the magazine team is on its way up in the lift.’
‘The interview... It’s today?’ Nicole felt her heart beating hard in her chest.
She had been gearing up for this all week. They were to present the world with an intimate portrait of them in their home to go along with the photographs of their engagement party. The prep work had been done with the PR team, and her pre-approved outfit hung pressed and waiting in the dressing room. It was a vital piece of this facade to set the scandal straight and get the media on their side.
‘I’ve had my phone turned off since last night.’ He pinched the bridge of his nose hard. ‘Nicole, I know that I have no right to ask you for help but...I need you by my side.’
Nicole bit her lip. I need you. She must be mad, but she didn’t want to let him down. She nodded, watching his shoulders sag with relief.
* * *
The magazine that would cover their entire sensational love story had competed against countless others to win the contract. In the end it had all come down to privacy for Rigo. He wanted a respectable British publication to take charge of the coverage, with the money raised from the deal going straight into his parents’ charity.
The team was busy setting up lighting around the seating area. Nicole sat by his side, dressed in jeans and a soft pink top that cut across her collarbone to sit at the tops of her shoulders. She looked deceptively relaxed in the soft morning light.
While they waited Anna sat propped on her lap in pink baby pyjamas, all ready for her afternoon nap.
The make-up artist came over, with her belt filled with brushes. ‘I just want to touch up a few bits, Miss Duvalle, if that’s okay?’ She gestured to a stool set up across the room.
Nicole looked at him for a moment, her expression strange. ‘Would you...hold her?’ she asked quietly, looking up briefly to where the journalist sat near them, taking notes and preparing for their interview. Anna might not be featuring in the photo shoot—both Nicole and Rigo had been clear about that—but even behind the scenes they were on show.
Rigo cleared his throat, nodding as casually as he could before accepting the pink bundle into his arms. He probably wasn’t holding her correctly, he thought suddenly. He looked to Nicole, but she was already sitting on the stool with her eyes closed as the make-up woman deftly swept a brush over her cheeks.
He looked back down at the child. She sat facing away from him, looking towards the window. He hadn’t been around babies much in his lifetime—not at all, really. She shifted her weight, almost jumping off his lap as a bird flew down to land on the balcony outside. Her excitement was instantaneous, and her features lit up with glee as she pointed one chubby finger towards the creature.
Rigo smiled. He couldn’t help it. Her laughter was infectious, just like her mother’s.
He stood up, walking closer to the window and holding her tight against his chest. She sat relaxed in his arms, her attention entirely focused on the creature pecking at the moss on the balcony ledge.
A bright flash drowned them both in sudden blinding light. Anna’s tiny features scrunched up with surprise before she let out a piercing wail. The cameraman stood guiltily a few feet away. Rigo felt the sudden urge to punch the man full force in the face. He controlled himself, not shouting at the oaf for fear of upsetting the baby further.
He looked across the room to Nicole, silently begging her to help. Anna was inconsolable now.
Nicole stood swiftly, crossing the room to take Anna into her arms. The child was instantly soothed, looking briefly up at him with a mixture of fear and recrimination. He took the chance to retreat, speaking sternly to the cameraman so that they didn’t have a repeat incident and making sure he deleted the photo from his camera.
As the director announced that they were all set Nicole handed the child over to the nanny for her nap. The twenty-minute photo session drained them, with all the forced poses and orders to smile on cue. They took a few romantic ‘couple’ shots before beginning the interview.
Rigo kept his arm slung around Nicole’s shoulders on the back of the sofa. They needed to seem at ease with each other, but she was as tense as an ironing board. When he’d leaned over to lay a kiss on her lips at the photographer’s suggestion he might as well have kissed a block of ice.
‘So let’s start with what exactly are the boundaries for the big day?’
The female journalist’s husky Scottish accent interrupted the tense silence in the aftermath of the disastrous photo shoot. She placed a digital recorder on the futon between them, its red light blinking.
Rigo spoke, his answers all pre-rehearsed. ‘We expect discretion at all times, with only a prearranged time slot for photographs.’
The woman nodded, ticking a box on her list. ‘Will we be allowed access to the bride as she prepares? We would love to get some candid shots of all aspects of the day.’
‘No,’ Nicole said suddenly. ‘I mean...I don’t think I would be comfortable with that.’
Rigo looked at her pointedly, laying his hand gently on her thigh. ‘What my beautiful fiancée means to say is that she’ll likely be too nervous for that on the day.’
The journalist narrowed her eyes, clearly unimpressed at the answer. She flipped through some of the photographs from the engagement party the night before, pausing on one.
She looked up, a gleam appearing in her eyes. ‘Your mother wasn’t invited to the party last night, Nicole?’ she asked in her simpering voice. ‘Why was that?’
‘She was invited. There was simply a mix-up with the list,’ Rigo said quickly.
‘And yet these photos clearly show Nicole and Goldie having what looks like a heated argument.’ She raised her brow.
Rigo looked to Nicole, noticing the sudden look of horror on her face. She masked it quickly, taking a sip from her glass of lemon water.
‘There was no argument, Diane. Move on, please,’ she said harshly.
Rigo frowned at Nicole’s use of the woman’s first name. He had noticed the immediate tensing in Nicole when they had been introduced to the woman who would write their article, but he had put it down to nerves. Now, looking at the two women staring each other down, he wasn’t so sure.
‘From what I hear, you should be thanking your