ALESSIO was in his study with the door shut, but he still heard the car drive away taking Laura to the airport, and he sat for a long moment, his head buried in his hands, fighting for self-command.
He had been blazing with anger as he’d walked out of her room earlier, furious at her refusal to listen to reason, and outraged at the way she had spoken to him. Dismissed him so summarily.
Never, he’d raged inwardly, had he been treated like that before by any woman. But, then, honesty compelled him to ask, when had he ever behaved as badly before to any woman?
And the acknowledgement that he’d deserved every contemptuous word she’d hurled at him did nothing to soothe his temper.
But now his anger was beginning to cool, leaving in its place a bleak and echoing emptiness. He was stunned by his own wretchedness. And by his total failure to win her round, or reach her in any way that mattered.
And now she was gone from him, he thought starkly. How could he have allowed it to happen?
More importantly, how could he have stopped her?
Well, there was no way. She had made that more than clear, her words lashing him like a whip. And at least he had not suffered the ultimate humiliation of falling on his knees, as he’d been desperately tempted to do, and begging her to stay. Or committed the folly of telling her he loved her—something he had never said to anyone before—and having that rejected too.
He pushed his chair back impatiently, and rose. There was no point in brooding, he told himself. He could not change what had just happened. She’d left—hating him. But he could and would deal with the fallout, as he’d sworn he would.
On his way to the salotto, he was waylaid by an unhappy Emilia. ‘I am so sorry, Excellenza, but we tried to keep the signora, your aunt, away from your room—and the little one—but we could not stop her. Is this why the Signorina Laura has gone away?’
He said gently, ‘The blame is mine alone, Emilia. And the signorina had her own reasons for wishing to return to England.’
‘But she will come back?’
He found he was bracing himself. Avoiding her concerned glance. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I do not think so.’
He found his aunt ensconced on a sofa, glancing through a fashion magazine and drinking coffee.
‘Alessio, caro.’ She barely glanced up. ‘Now that our unwanted guest has departed, I thought I might invite Beatrice Manzone and her father here for a short stay.’ She smiled smugly. ‘She and Paolo seemed to enjoy each other’s company at Trasimeno so much. Maybe, even without your intervention, he might have come round to my way of thinking. Yet it was probably better to be safe.’
‘I am sure you would think so.’ His voice was harsh. ‘However, I must decline to entertain any more guests of yours, Zia Lucrezia. Nor do I wish you or your son to spend another night under my roof.’
There was a silence, then she said, ‘If this is a joke, Alessio, it is a poor one.’
His gaze was unswerving. ‘Believe me, I have never been more serious. I do not wish to have anything more to do with you. Ever.’
‘But Paolo and I are your closest living relatives.’ There was a shake in her voice. Uncertainty in the look she sent him. ‘Your father was my brother.’
He said icily, ‘As I am ashamed to acknowledge. And for most of his life, you and he were strangers—at his wish.’ He shook his head. ‘I should have ordered you to leave my apartment as soon as you mentioned Vittoria,’ he added grimly.
‘Yet you did not,’ she reminded him swiftly. ‘You agreed to my terms, and you carried them out to the letter, because you did not wish your liaison with her to become known.’
‘No,’ he said, after a pause. ‘I did not. But, on reflection, I think I agreed for Fabrizio’s sake, rather than hers. He is a fool, but he is a fool in love, and I cannot blame him for that.’ His mouth tightened, then he went on levelly, ‘Nor does he deserve public humiliation because his wife does not return his affection.’ He shrugged. ‘One day he may discover the truth about her, but it will not be through me.’
He gave her a cool, hard glance. ‘Guillermo is driving Signorina Mason to Rome, so your own driver is free to take you wherever you wish to go. I would be glad if you would leave as soon as possible.’
The controlled, controlling veneer was beginning to crumble. She said, ‘I cannot believe you mean this. You are hardly a saint, Alessio, to trouble yourself over the bedding of one stupid English girl.’
‘That is enough.’ His voice rang harshly through the big room. ‘Believe that the matter is closed, and my decision is final.’ He made her a swift formal bow. ‘Addio, Zia Lucrezia.’
She called after him, panic in her tone, but he took no notice.
He was in the library, forcing himself to look through his emails in an attempt at normality, when the door opened and Paolo came in.
He said uneasily, ‘Mammina says you have ordered us from the villa. There must be some misunderstanding.’
‘No.’ Alessio rose and walked round the desk, leaning back against it, arms folded across his chest. ‘This is simply a day for departures—for finally severing damaging connections.’ He looked icily at Paolo. ‘As you yourself have done, cousin.’
‘You mean the little Laura?’ Paolo shrugged. ‘But consider—if I had pretended to forgive her for sleeping with you, Mammina would never have believed it. So what else could I do but get rid of her?’
Alessio considered him, his mouth set. ‘You do not seem distraught at her loss,’ he commented.
‘On the contrary, it is damned inconvenient,’ Paolo said sourly. ‘Until your intervention, I had Mammina nicely fooled. Another few days, and she would have admitted defeat over the Manzone girl.’
‘How little you know.’ Alessio’s eyes were coolly watchful. ‘And how was Signorina Mason involved in this—foolery?’
Paolo shrugged. ‘There’s no point in keeping it secret, any longer. The truth is, I picked her up in London. Mammina was right about that. Offered her a free holiday, plus cash, if she pretended to be in love with me.’
He gave a lascivious grin. ‘I must say she threw herself into the role. Under all that English cool, she was a hot little number—as you must have found out last night.
‘But I’m surprised she didn’t tell you herself—during pillow talk,’ he went on. ‘But perhaps you didn’t give her time, eh? I’ve been there myself, cousin, and I’m sure you had much better things for that pretty mouth to do…’
There was a blur of movement, and the odd sensation that he’d collided head-on with a stone pillar.
He found he was lying on the floor, his jaw aching, with Alessio standing over him, flexing his right hand.
He said softly, dangerously, ‘That is a filthy lie, and we both know it. You never touched Laura Mason, and you will never speak of her in those terms again.’ He paused. ‘When you return to London, it will be to clear your desk. You no longer work for the Arleschi Bank. Now get out.’
He strode from the room, leaving Paolo to scramble to his feet, unaided and cursing violently.
‘You will be sorry for this, cousin,’ he whispered silently, gingerly feeling his jaw as Alessio’s tall figure disappeared. ‘And so will your little bedmate. Oh, yes, I know how to make her very sorry.’
Laura sat down at her desk and switched on her computer. It was almost a relief to find herself back at work, she thought, sighing. At least it would mean she would have something else to think about—during daylight hours, anyway. At night, it was not so easy to control her thoughts or dreams.
The long drive to the airport had been conducted pretty much in silence, although she’d been aware of Guillermo sending anxious glances in her direction.
Once they’d arrived, he had asked her quietly if she was sure—quite sure—she wished to do this, and she had said yes—yes, she was. And he had taken her to the desk, and arranged to have her ticket transferred to the next available flight in four hours’ time. The transaction had taken place in Italian, and she was sure she heard him mention the Count Ramontella’s name, but it had seemed wiser not to ask or protest. She was getting out of there, wasn’t she? And more easily than she could have hoped?
The actual means had no longer seemed important.
‘You have no message for me to take to His Excellency?’ His voice was sad as he bade her goodbye.
‘No,’ she said, past the agonising tightness in her throat. ‘No, thank you. Everything necessary has been said.’
On the plane, she pretended to sleep while the events of the past twenty-four hours rolled like a film loop through her weary mind, tormenting her over and over again. Telling her how gullible she’d been. The worst kind of fool.
The time since her return had not been easy for her either. Gaynor had naturally wanted to know why she’d come back earlier than expected, and didn’t seem wholly convinced by Laura saying evasively that things hadn’t worked out exactly as expected.
Her friend was also astute enough to read the signs of deep trouble behind Laura’s attempt at a brave face.
‘Please don’t tell me you ended up falling for this Paolo after all?’ she asked, dismayed.
‘God, no.’ Laura’s voice was vehement with disgust. She’d encountered him briefly just as she’d been leaving the villa, and he’d called her an ugly name and told her she wouldn’t get a cent of the money he’d promised. And for a second she’d stared at him, almost dazedly, wondering what he was talking about. Because it had all been such a long time ago, their arrangement, and now everything had changed, so that nothing—nothing mattered any more, least of all money…
‘Well, that’s a relief.’ Gaynor gave her a shrewd glance. ‘But, all the same, I’m sure there was someone. And when you want to talk, I’ll listen.’
But Laura knew she would never want to discuss Alessio. The pain of his betrayal—of the knowledge that she’d been cynically seduced for the worst of all possible reasons—was too raw and too deep. She simply had to endure, somehow, and wait for time and distance to do their work.
However, at least she knew she wasn’t pregnant. She’d had incontrovertible proof of that only two days after her return, and, for a long, bewildered moment, she’d not known whether to be glad or sorry. Just as there’d been times when she’d found herself wondering if he would—come after her…
But that was just a stupid lapse into unforgivable sentimentality, she told herself strongly. And never to be repeated. She wasn’t having his baby, and he hadn’t followed her to England. So, she’d been fortunate to be spared even more regret—more heartbreak. Nothing else.
And now she had to concentrate on things that really mattered, like her work. Because this was a big day for her. Her trial period at Harman Grace was complete, and she was about to receive her final appraisal and, hopefully, a permanent job offer, which would give her tottering confidence a much-needed boost.
So, she went into Carl’s office for her interview with her shoulders back, and a smile nailed on.
But she’d no sooner sat down than he said, ‘Laura, I’m afraid I have some bad news.’
She looked at him, startled. ‘My appraisal?’
‘No, that was good, as always. But, things are a bit tight economically just now, and we’re having to make cuts, so there’s only one job on offer instead of two as we planned.’ His face radiated discomfort. ‘And it’s been decided to offer it to Bevan instead.’
‘Bevan?’ Her voice was incredulous. ‘But you can’t. He’s struggled from day one. We’ve all had to pick up the pieces from his mistakes. Everyone knows that. My God, you know it.’
He did not meet her gaze. ‘Nevertheless, it’s the decision that’s been reached—and I’m personally very sorry to lose you.’
Laura looked down at her hands, clenched together in her lap. She said half to herself, ‘This cannot be happening to me. It can’t.’
There was a silence, then Carl leaned forward, speaking quietly. ‘I should not be telling you this, and it’s strictly non-attributable. But the decision came from the top. One of our big new clients has put in some kind of complaint about you. Alleged you were incompetent, and impossible to work with, and that they’d take their business elsewhere unless you were fired. Times are hard, Laura, and the directors decided they couldn’t take the risk.’
Laura gasped. ‘They didn’t even ask me for an explanation? It could be some terrible mistake.’
Carl shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not.’ His glance was compassionate. ‘Some way, and only God knows how, you’ve managed to make an enemy of the head of the Arleschi Bank, honey. Alessio Ramontella himself. I’ve actually seen his personal letter to the board. And that’s about as bad as it gets. No further explanations necessary.’ He paused, saying sharply, ‘Laura—are you OK? You look like a ghost.’
She felt like one too, only she knew she couldn’t be dead, because she was too hurt, and too angry. It wasn’t enough for Alessio to destroy her emotionally, she thought. He’d deliberately set out to ruin her career as well. She supposed it had to be revenge for their last encounter. After all, his anger had been almost tangible. He must have acted at once, to punish her for the things she’d said.
She thought, ‘But that’s impossible. He doesn’t even know I work here,’ and only realised she’d spoken aloud when Carl stared at her in disbelief.
‘You mean there’s something behind all this. You really know this guy?’
She lifted her chin. ‘No,’ she said quietly and clearly. ‘I don’t know him, and I never have done. Thankfully, he’s a total stranger to me, and that’s how he’ll remain.’ She rose. ‘Now, I’ll go and clear my desk.’
Alessio glanced at his watch, wondering how soon he could make a discreet exit from the reception. Attendance had been unavoidable, but now his duty was done and he wanted to leave. Not least because the Montecorvos were there, and he had been aware all evening of Vittoria’s eyes following him hungrily round the enormous room.
If I’d known, he thought, wild horses wouldn’t have dragged me here.
Since his return to Rome, Vittoria’s letters and phone calls had returned in full force, although he’d responded to none of them. But she was clearly not giving up without a struggle, he realised, caught between annoyance and resignation.
He was on his way to the door when a slender crimson-tipped hand descended on his arm, and he was assailed by a waft of perfume, expensive and unmistakable.
He halted, groaning silently. ‘Vittoria,’ he offered insincerely. ‘What a pleasure.’
She pouted, standing close to him, offering him a spectacularly indiscreet view of her cleavage. ‘How can you say that, caro mio, when you know you have been avoiding me? Is it because of your aunt?’ She lowered her voice, shuddering. ‘She made my visit to Trasimeno a nightmare, the old witch, dropping hints like poison. But now she is no longer in the city. She has moved to her house in Tuscany, and Fabrizio’s mother says she has no plans to return. So, we are safe.’
He began, ‘Vittoria—’ but she interrupted.
‘Caro, I have good news. A friend of mine has an apartment not far from the Via Veneto, only she has been sent to Paris on business.
‘And I have the key. We can meet there, without danger, whenever we wish.’
She smiled up at him, showing him the tip of her tongue between her lips. ‘And you do wish it, don’t you, carissimo? Because you are not seeing anyone else. I know that. Since you came back from Umbria over a month ago, you have been living like a recluse. Everyone says so.’
‘Then, I am obliged to everyone for their concern,’ he said icily. ‘Unlike most of them, I have work to do.’
‘But you cannot work all the time, mi amore.’ Her low voice was insinuating. ‘Your body needs exercise as well as your mind. And you cannot have forgotten how good we were together, Alessio mio. I shall never forget, and your Vittoria needs you—so badly.’
He met her gleaming, greedy gaze, and, with a sudden jolt of renewed pain, found himself remembering other eyes. Grey eyes that had smiled up at him in trust, then turned smoky with desire, before shining with astonished rapture as her body had yielded up its last sweet secrets. And all for him alone.
All that warmth and joy—and the small wicked giggle that had entranced him—and which it almost broke his heart to remember.
Laura, he thought with yearning, and sudden passion. Ah, Dio, my Laura—my beloved.
And suddenly Alessio knew what he had to do, just as surely as he’d done when he’d driven back to the villa on that last morning, only to find his plans—his entire future—wrecked by the disaster that had been waiting for him.
He took the hand that was still clutching his sleeve, and kissed it briefly and formally.
‘You flatter me,’ he said with cold civility. ‘But I fear it is impossible to accept your charming invitation. You see, I have fallen deeply in love, and I hope very soon to be married. I am sure you understand. Feel free to tell—everyone. So, goodnight, Vittoria—and goodbye.’
And he strode away, leaving her staring after him, with two ugly spots of colour burning in her face.
It had been raining all day, and the air felt cool, promising a hint of autumn to come as Laura arrived back at the house and went slowly upstairs to her room.
She had been suffering from stomach cramps for most of the evening, and, as the wine bar was quiet, Hattie, the owner, had dosed her with paracetamol and sent her home early.
She didn’t usually have painful periods, but supposed wearily that her symptoms could be caused by stress. Because she still hadn’t found another agency to take her on. Carl had given her a good reference, but prospective employers always wanted to know why she’d left Harman Grace after only three months. And they did not like the answer they were given.
So she was fortunate that Hattie could offer her full-time waitressing. But the money wasn’t good, and there was little to spare once the rent was paid.
Her room felt damp and cheerless as she let herself in, and she shivered a little. She decided a shower might be comforting, but soon discovered that the water was only lukewarm in the small chilly bathroom. She sighed to herself. It seemed she would have to settle for the comfort of a hot-water bottle instead. She put on her elderly flowered cotton pyjamas and her dressing gown, and trailed off to the kitchen, carrying the rubber bag with its Winnie the Pooh cover.
She found Gaynor there ahead of her, taking the coffee jar from the cupboard, the kettle already heating on the stove. She swung round, starting violently, as Laura came in.
‘My God, what are you doing here?’
‘I live here.’ Laura stared at her. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No, no. But you’re usually so much later than this. I wondered.’
‘It’s that time of the month again.’ Laura grimaced. ‘Hattie let me finish the shift early.’ She held up the hot-water bottle. ‘I just came to fill this.’
‘Oh, hell.’ Gaynor looked dismayed. ‘I mean—what—what a shame. Poor you.’ She gave Laura a smile that on anyone else would have looked shifty. ‘Well, you go ahead. Your need is greater than mine, so the coffee can wait,’ she added, backing to the door. ‘I mean it—really. I—I’ll check on you later.’
Laura turned to the stove with a mental shrug. There were two beakers on the small counter, she noticed, so clearly her friend had company. But what was there in that to make her so jumpy?
She carefully filled her bottle, and carried it back to her room, pausing first to tap at Gaynor’s closed door and call, ‘The kitchen’s all yours.’
She’d taken two steps into the room before she realised that she was not alone. Or saw who was waiting for her, tall in his elegant charcoal suit, his dark face watchful and unsmiling as he looked at her.
He said quietly, ‘Buonasera.’
She clutched her bottle in front of her as if it were a defensive weapon. ‘Good evening be damned,’ she said raggedly. ‘How did you get in here?’
‘Your friend, who took pity on me when she heard me knocking, told me you had returned, and the door was open. So I came in.’ He paused. ‘It is good to see you again.’
She ignored that. ‘What—what the hell are you doing here?’ she demanded shakily. ‘How did you find me?’
‘The postcards you wrote that day in Besavoro, and I mailed for you. They had addresses on them.’
‘Of all the devious…’ Laura began furiously, then stopped, and took a deep breath. ‘What do you want?’
‘I want you, Laura.’ His voice was quiet. ‘I wish you to return with me to Italy.’
She took a step backwards, glaring at him. ‘Is that why you had me fired—to offer me alternative work as your mistress?’ She lifted her chin. ‘I don’t regard sharing your bed as a good career move, signore. So I suggest you get out of here—and I mean now.’
Alessio’s brows lifted. ‘Is that what you mean?’ he asked with a kind of polite interest. ‘Or what you think you should say?’
‘Don’t play word games,’ she hit back fiercely. ‘And before you ask, by the way, there’s no baby.’
‘So I gather.’ His tone was rueful. ‘Your friend has already informed me I have chosen the wrong time of the month to visit you.’
The hot-water bottle fell to the floor as Laura said hoarsely, ‘Gaynor—said that—and to you?’ She shook her head. ‘Oh, God, I don’t believe it. I—I’ll kill her.’
For the first time, he smiled faintly. ‘Ah, no, I was grateful for the warning, believe me. My friends who are already husbands tell me that sometimes a back rub can help. Would you like me to try?’
She stared at him in outrage, then marched to the door and flung it open. ‘I’d like you to go to hell.’ Her voice shook. ‘Just—leave.’
‘Not without you, carissima.’ Alessio took off his jacket, and tossed it over the back of her armchair, then began to unbutton his waistcoat.
‘Stop,’ Laura said furiously. ‘Stop right there. What do you think you’re doing?’
He smiled at her. ‘It has been a long and interesting day, and it is not over yet. I thought I would make myself comfortable, cara mia.’
‘Not,’ she said, ‘in my flat. And don’t call me that.’
‘Then what shall I say?’ he asked softly. ‘My angel, my beautiful one? Mi adorata? For you are all these things, Laura mia, and more.’
‘No.’ She wanted to stamp in vexation, but remembered just in time that she was barefoot. ‘I hate you. I want you out of my life. I told you so.’
‘Sì,’ he agreed. ‘I am not likely to forget.’
‘Nor did you,’ she threw at him. ‘In fact you wrote a stinking letter to Harman Grace, telling them to sack me as a result.’
‘A letter was certainly written,’ he said. ‘I saw it today. But it did not come from me.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘You—went to the agency.’
‘It was during working hours,’ he explained. ‘I expected you to be there. I hoped you might be more welcoming when others were present. Instead I spoke to your former boss, who eventually showed me this ridiculous forgery.’
‘It was on your notepaper,’ Laura said. ‘Signed by you. He told me.’
‘I replaced my letterheads a few months ago. Those at the villa, I only use as scrap now. Paolo of course would not know this. And his imitation of my signature was a poor one, also.’
She blinked. ‘Paolo? Why should he do such a thing?’
‘He was angry and wished to revenge himself on me—on us both. And, to an extent, he succeeded.’
‘But—he didn’t care about me—about what had happened.’
‘Ah,’ Alessio said softly. ‘But he cared very much when I knocked him down.’
She gasped. ‘You did that? Why?’
‘It is not important,’ he said in swift dismissal. ‘And his own troubles are mounting rapidly. He now works for Signor Manzone, and I am told his wedding is imminent.’
He paused. ‘And you would have had to give up your job in any case, mi amore,’ he added almost casually. ‘You cannot live in Italy and work in London. The commuting would be too difficult.’
She lifted her chin. ‘I think you must have lost your mind, Count Ramontella. I have no intention of living in Italy.’
He sighed. ‘That makes things difficult. I have already had the statue of Diana removed from the garden, and had drawings commissioned so that we can choose a replacement. Also work has begun on the swimming pool to provide a shallower end until you get more confidence.
‘And Caio is inconsolable without you. He howls regularly outside your room. At times, I have considered joining him.’
‘Caio?’ Laura lifted a dazed hand to her forehead. ‘How does he feature in all this? He’s your aunt’s dog. Is she still at the villa?’
‘No,’ he said with sudden grimness. ‘She is not. She left shortly after you, and I have no wish ever to see her again.
‘But Caio did not wish to go in the car when she departed, and bit Paolo, who tried to make him. Then my aunt unwisely intervened, and he bit her too. She announced she was going to have him put down immediately, so Emilia quite rightly rescued him and brought him to me.’
He smiled at her. ‘But we all know the one he truly loves.’
She said passionately, ‘Stop this—stop it, please. I don’t understand. I don’t know what’s happening. Why you’re talking like this.’
He said gently, ‘If you closed the door, and sat down, I could explain more easily, I think.’
‘I don’t want you to explain.’ Her voice rose almost to a wail. ‘I want you to go. To leave me in peace. It’s cruel of you to come here like this. Saying these things.’
‘Cruel of me to love you, carissima? To wish to make you my wife?’
‘Why should you wish to do that, signore?’ She didn’t look at him. ‘To make it easier for you to go on with your secret affair with that—that woman?’
He came across to her, detached her unresisting fingers from the handle, and closed the door firmly, leaning against it as he looked down at her.
He said quietly, ‘Laura, I did a bad thing, and I cannot defend myself. Nor do I wish to hurt you more than I have done, but I must be honest with you if there is to be any hope for us.
‘I am not having an affair with Vittoria Montecorvo. I never was. But we had met several times, and she had let me see she was available. After that our paths seemed to cross many times. I think someone must have hinted to my aunt that this was so, and she decided to have me watched.’
Laura stared up at him. ‘Your own aunt would do that?’
He said grimly, ‘You have met her. My father told me once that since childhood she had enjoyed observing other people’s misdemeanours, and discovering their secrets, so that she could use them to gain unpleasant advantages, like a spider keeping dead flies in a web to enjoy later. Oddly, I never thought she would do it to me.
‘Unfortunately, her need for a favour coincided with Vittoria’s brief incursion into my life, and as I did not wish to cause the breakdown of Vittoria’s marriage, or even see her again after my one indiscretion, it seemed I had no choice but to do as I was required, however distasteful.’
He sighed. ‘And then I saw you, Laura, and in that moment everything changed.’ He tried to smile. ‘Do you remember how Petrarch spoke of his Laura? Because you too went from my eyes straight to my heart, mi adorata, and I was lost for ever. Although I did not realise that immediately,’ he added candidly. ‘Which is why my original intentions were not strictly honourable.’
‘No,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I—realised that.’ Lost for ever, she thought. I felt that too.
He took her hand. Held it.
‘You see—I am trying to be truthful,’ he said quietly. ‘I thought that once you belonged to me that everything would be simple. That I would take you away where my aunt could not reach us, and you would never need to know about that devil’s bargain I had made with her. I even told myself it no longer mattered, because I wanted you for myself—and myself alone. And that justified everything. Only, I soon found it did not.
‘When I realised—that first time—that you were a virgin, it almost destroyed me. Because I knew that you did not deserve to surrender your innocence for such a reason. That I could not—would not do what my aunt demanded, and to hell with the consequences.’
‘Yet you did—eventually.’ Her voice was small and strained.
‘Mi amore, as I told you, I took you only because I could not live without you any longer. And I thought you felt the same.’ He looked deeply—questioningly—into her eyes. ‘Was I so wrong?’
‘No,’ she admitted, with reluctance. ‘You were—right.’
‘I was also certain that news of the landslide would keep my aunt at bay for another twenty-four hours, at least,’ he went on. ‘And that would give me time.’
‘Time for what?’
‘To tell you everything, mia bella, as I knew I must, if there was to be complete honesty between us. So, I drove back from Besavoro to make my confession, and beg absolution before I asked you to become my wife. But, again, it was too late. Once more, I had underestimated my aunt.
‘And when you looked at me—spoke to me as you did—I thought I had placed myself beyond your forgiveness for ever. That, hurting you as I had done, I could hope for nothing. That I had ruined both our lives.’
He took her other hand. Drew her gently towards him. ‘Is it true, Laura mia? Is all hope gone? Or can you try to forgive me, and let me teach you to love me as I think you were beginning to? As I love you?’ His voice sank to a whisper. ‘Don’t send me away, carissima, and make us both wretched. Try to forgive—and let me stay with you tonight.’
She said jerkily, ‘But you can’t—stay. You know that.’
He sighed, and kissed the top of her head. ‘Do you think I am totally devoid of decency or patience, mi amore? And do you also intend to turn me out of our bed each month when we are married? I don’t think so.’ He paused. ‘I want to sleep with you, Laura. To take care of you. Nothing more. Don’t you want that too?’
‘Yes, I suppose—I don’t know,’ she said with a sob. ‘But I still can’t let you stay. I just—can’t.’
‘Why not, my angel?’ His voice was tender. ‘When it is what we both want.’
There were so many sensible and excellent reasons for sending him away for ever, yet she couldn’t think of one of them.
Instead, she heard herself say crossly, ‘Because I’m wearing really horrible pyjamas.’ And then she burst into tears.
When she calmed down, she found that they had somehow moved to the armchair, and she was sitting curled up on Alessio’s lap.
‘So,’ he said, drying her face with his handkerchief. ‘If I promise to buy you something prettier in the morning, may I stay?’
‘I can hardly throw you out,’ she mumbled into his shoulder.
‘And will you marry me as soon as it can be arranged?’
She was silent for a moment. ‘How can I?’ she asked unhappily. ‘We hardly know each other. And I don’t belong in your world, Alessio. If I hadn’t been forced on your attention, you’d never have given me a second glance.’
‘You are my world, Laura,’ he said softly. ‘Without you, there is nothing. Don’t you understand that, my dear one?
‘I want yours to be the face I see when I wake each morning. I want to see you smile at me across our dining table. I want to teach you to swim so well that you will dive off the side of our boat with me. I want to be with you when our children are born, and to love you and protect you as long as we both live.’
She said with a little gasp, ‘Oh, Alessio—I love you too, so very much. I wanted to stop—I tried hard to—and to hate you—but I—I couldn’t. And I’ve been so lonely—and so terribly unhappy. And I’d marry you tomorrow, if it was possible. Only it isn’t. I—I can’t just disappear to Italy with you.’ Her hands twisted together. ‘There’s my family to consider. That’s why I needed a decent job, so that I could help my mother with my brother’s education.’
She swallowed. ‘I only agreed to help Paolo because he was going to pay me, but then he didn’t.’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Because I have no wish for you to be obliged to such a creature.’ He stroked her hair back from her face. ‘Mia cara, I am going to be your husband, and I shall look after your mother and brother as if they were my own. How could you doubt it?’
‘But I don’t know that she’ll accept that.’ Laura’s face was troubled. ‘She has her fair share of pride.’
‘We will go and see her tomorrow,’ he said. ‘After all, I have to ask her permission to marry you. And I will talk to her—persuade her that it will be my pleasure to care for you all. I am sure she will see reason.’
Laura raised her head from his shoulder, and looked at him in quiet fascination. ‘I bet she will at that,’ she said, her lips twitching in sudden amusement. ‘Are you always going to expect your own way, signore, once we’re married?’
‘Of course,’ he said softly, and wickedly, drawing her close again. ‘But I will always try to ensure that your way and mine are the same, my sweet one.’
He bent his head and kissed her, his mouth moving on hers with a gentle, almost reverent restraint that made her want to cry again. But she didn’t. And they held each other, and kissed again, whispering the words that lovers used. And were happy.
Much later, Laura was sitting up in bed finishing the tisana he had made her from Gaynor’s herb tea when Alessio came back from the bathroom, her refilled hot-water bottle dangling from his lean fingers.
She looked at him with real compunction. ‘Darling, I’m sorry. It’s all so—unromantic.’
‘Then maybe we should put romance aside for a while,’ he said gently. ‘And think only about love.’
He undressed quickly, and slid into the narrow bed behind her, wrapping her warmly and closely in his arms. Making her feel relaxed and at peace for the first time in weeks.
She was almost asleep when a thought came to her. ‘Alessio,’ she whispered drowsily. ‘Will you promise me one more thing?’
‘Anything, mia bella.’
She smiled in the darkness. ‘Will you still teach me to play strip poker?’
‘It might be arranged,’ he returned softly. ‘On some winter night, when we are safely married, and the fire is warm and the candles are lit.’ He paused. ‘But I must warn you, carissima. I cheat.’
Laura turned her head and aimed a sleepy kiss at the corner of his mouth.
‘So do I, my darling,’ she murmured in deep contentment. ‘So do I.’