by Helen Brooks
'I second that.' Attilio was there beside her, and not for the first time she asked herself why she didn't fancy him. The lean, lithe body was well toned and masculine, his shoulders broad and his limbs muscled, but there was no…spark when she looked at him. She didn't know why; there just wasn't. 'And when you have rid yourself of some of this excess energy we will have a game with the beachball, sì? The piggy in the middle?'
'And Claire can be the piggy,' Lorenzo shouted after them, his accent giving an endearing lilt to the last word.
'Oh, no, Claire could not be a piggy.' Attilio's voice was soft, and she knew he wasn't attempting to make Lorenzo hear. 'Claire is a dove—a pure, gentle dove.' He was matching her stroke for stroke and her uneasiness intensified.
'I don't think so, Attilio.' She swallowed a mouthful of water and coughed and spluttered a little before she continued, 'My mother knows me better than anyone, and it speaks volumes that her nickname for me, right from a little girl, has been Curly.'
'Curly?' They paused in the middle of the pool and trod water as he said again, 'Curly?' glancing at her straight hair.
'After the rhyme, you know?' He shook his head, his brown skin gleaming like burnished silk. 'It goes like this,' she said lightly. 'There was a little girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. And when she was good she was very, very good, but when she was bad she was horrid.'
'And your mother—she thinks you are horrid?'
He was laughing now, and she laughed back as she said, 'Sometimes—yes, definitely sometimes. Or at least I could be. Like the time I tricked my brothers into the cellar because they had been teasing me and wouldn't tell anyone where I had put the key. My father had to break the door down in the end.'
'This is dreadful. I cannot believe it.'
Lorenzo had joined them now, the race forgotten in this interesting conversation. 'What else? What else did you used to do, Claire?' he asked eagerly.
'Oh, I was a little monster.' She told them one story after another, and after a few minutes their combined laughter was resounding round the pool, the three of them holding each other up amid much splashing and hilarity, so it was all the more of a shock when a deep, cold voice cut into the moment with a biting severity that brought their heads swinging round as though attached by the same wire.
'Claire? You are wanted.'
'Romano.' It was only Lorenzo and Attilio's support that stopped her sinking like a dead weight as she saw the big, powerful figure at the far end of the pool, the sunlight behind him throwing the dark face into shadow. 'Is anything wrong?' she asked quickly.
'Grace is not feeling well.' He didn't actually say it was her fault, but he might as well have. 'I think it would be better if you stopped your romping and came back to the house, you understand?' he said grimly.
'Of course I understand,' she bit back sharply, shrugging off Lorenzo's and Attilio's hands and making immediately for the side with strong, urgent strokes, her heart thudding.
Romano was holding her robe as she reached him, and as he bent down and reached out his hand to pull her out of the pool she saw his face was as black as thunder, his eyes glittering like polished steel as they sliced into her. 'I thought you had come to Italy to be Grace's companion, her friend,' he said tightly. 'Not to play the fool.'
'I beg your pardon?' She refused his hand, pulling herself up by her own efforts and managing to get out in one quite graceful movement, something that registered with satisfaction even through the worry for Grace and the burning hot rage at Romano. 'What did you just say?' she hissed furiously, snatching the robe from him and pulling the belt tight once she had slipped into the thick towelling folds.
'That you are needed back at the house.' He had stepped back a pace, and the metamorphosis she had witnessed several times before had taken place—the cold, handsome face quite expressionless now, the ebony-black eyes narrowed and still as they surveyed her hot face.
'I don't mean that and you know it.' She glared at him angrily while keeping her voice low because of Lorenzo. 'How dare you—?'
'Claire?' As she turned Attilio was making his way across the pool with Lorenzo at his side. 'Would you like me to come back to the house with you?' he asked quietly as he reached the side, holding onto the edge of the pool as he looked up at her, the muscles in his shoulders bulging.
She opened her mouth to decline but Romano was there before her, his face still expressionless but his voice gratingly sharp as he said, 'There is no need for that. Grace needs a little peace and quiet and the company of her friend, that is all. I understand you have been down at the pool some time?' he added to Claire without a change of tone, and when she nodded he continued, 'Then it will not be too much of a sacrifice to return now?'
'Of course not.' He was being deliberately difficult and she was going to hit him in a minute, Claire thought furiously, Lorenzo or no Lorenzo. She had been with Grace all morning, and it had been her friend who had suggested she come down to the pool and have half an hour in the cold clean water to blow the cobwebs away. Knowing Grace as she did, she was sure she had made that perfectly clear to Romano. He didn't like her and he was seizing an excuse to try and make her feel guilty and foolish with his insinuations that she was neglecting Grace. Well, he could go and take a running jump, and there was no need for him to have taken such a highhanded attitude with Attilio either.
She looked down at Attilio now, her last thought making her voice warm and soft as she spoke to the upturned face. 'Thank you, Attilio, but I'm sure everything will be OK.' Her gaze moved to Lorenzo who, clearly unaware of the undercurrents among the adults, had been practising his diving while they spoke. 'It would be better for Lorenzo to have half an hour down here, I think, while I see how things are.'
'Of course.' As Lorenzo surfaced again Attilio tapped his young charge on the shoulder. 'Come on, this is supposed to be an hour of physical exercise, so let's exercise, eh? Twenty lengths of the pool, non-stop.'
'Thanks, Attilio,' Claire said quietly.
As Lorenzo swam off, cutting through the water like a brown missile, Attilio smiled up at her before he moved off. 'Any time.' It was noticeable that the smile did not include Romano, and also that there had been none of the courtesy between the two men that was normally apparent.
'Well? Are you going to stand here gazing after your swain or are you going to come back to the house and care for Grace?' Romano asked coldly, bringing her gaze swinging back to him.
'My what?'
He was already turning to walk back, and she fell into step beside him, the top of her head on a level with his shoulders.
'Your swain, admirer, suitor—call it what you will,' he said coolly, his hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets and his black eyes narrowed slits as he stared straight ahead. 'I am not sure of the word you would use in England.'
'The word I would use is "friend", actually, not that it's any of your business.' Her eyes were flashing sparks of fire; she couldn't remember when anyone had made her so mad before. 'And I deeply resent your insinuation that I am neglecting Grace, by the way,' she added vehemently.
'Do you?' It seemed the fiercer she got the more distant and controlled he became. 'Well, strange as it may seem to you, I will not lose too much sleep over that,' he said impassively.
'Oh, good.' The sarcasm was thick and heavy. 'That makes it all OK, then, if you're happy, does it? The great Romano Bellini has spoken—the fount of all knowledge, who, of course, cannot be wrong, has given his opinion, yet again, on something he knows absolutely nothing about—'
'Do not test my patience, Claire.'
'Test your patience?' She swung round in front of him now, forcing him to stop as she glared up into his dark, imperturbable face. 'Don't you dare come that—not with me! You storm down here today, flinging all sorts of accusations about—'
'I most certainly have not,' he bit out grimly.
'Oh, yes, you have. Veiled, maybe, but accus
ations none the less,' she flashed back angrily. 'I know I was out of order at your home that night, and that I said things I shouldn't have, and I'm not proud of it. But I was—' She stopped abruptly and then forced herself to go on. 'I was out of my depth and I didn't want anything to happen we'd both regret. I should have called a halt long before I did, I know that, but there is still no need for you to carry on this…this hate campaign against me,' she finished passionately. 'You're horrible, cold, cruel and I hate you. I really hate you.'
She evaded his hand as it shot out to grab her, jumping back and then turning and running like the wind towards the house. She heard him call her name, his voice hard and angry, but didn't stop until she reached Casa Pontina, exploding into the house like a small tornado before forcing herself to stand still for a moment and adjust the robe with shaking hands. 'Calm down, calm down,' she told herself tremblingly as she fought for control. 'Grace is going to have the twins here and now if you burst in on her like a demented madwoman.'
She took several deep, long breaths, smoothing her wet hair away from her hot face and combing it with her fingers into some sort of order, and then, knowing Romano must be approaching the house by now, walked quickly along to the drawing room where she found Grace sitting on one of the sofas with her feet up and her eyes closed.
'Romano says you're not feeling too good,' she said anxiously as Grace opened drowsy eyes at her entrance. 'What's wrong?'
'Nothing, I'm fine. Just a few aches and pains, that's all,' Grace said sleepily. 'I told Romano that, but men are so panicky when it comes to pregnancy. Donato is just the same. Here's me, with the equivalent of two live and kicking beachballs stuck in the front of me, and they wonder why my muscles object to the load. There's nothing wrong, Claire, really. You would be the first person I'd call if there was anyway.' She sat up straighter as she saw the relief on Claire's face. 'Why?' she asked, wide awake now. 'What did Romano say?'
'That I ought to come back to the house,' Claire said flatly, sinking down beside Grace as her friend swung her legs down and patted the seat beside her, 'and that you weren't feeling well.'
'Oh, men.' Grace sighed deeply. 'Those two will drive me mad before I'm finished—they've even got Lorenzo looking at me anxiously all the time now. You didn't come back before you were ready, did you?' she added anxiously. 'You know if I ever needed you I'd always send Gina or Anna to fetch you.'
'No, I'd had enough anyway.' Claire smiled as she continued, 'Attilio and Lorenzo had just joined me and they were talking about races and all sorts of things, which sounded a bit too physical for me. Pools are to relax in and lie by, with plenty of magazines and a glass of wine, in my opinion.'
'And mine,' Grace agreed feelingly.
'We were just having a bit of fun when Romano came and called me,' Claire said lightly. 'That's all.'
'Were you?' Grace's eyes narrowed. 'And he said you ought to come back to the house?'
'Yes.' There was something in Grace's voice that caught her attention. 'Why?'
'Oh, nothing.' Grace shrugged easily. 'And do I gather Romano was a bit…stressed?'
'About you? Yes.' Claire nodded as she stood up; she had just heard Romano talking to one of the maids in the hall outside, and now seemed like the perfect time to go and have a shower and get changed. With any luck he'd be gone before she came down again. 'I'll see you a bit later.'
'Yes, OK.' Grace sounded a little preoccupied, and as Claire left the room and Romano entered, the two of them exchanging tight nods, Grace's face was thoughtful. So…sparks were flying unless she was very much mistaken. Interesting, very interesting. She ran a contemplative hand across her swollen stomach and smiled up at Romano as he took a seat opposite her. Yes, very interesting.
* * *
When Claire walked back into the drawing room some thirty minutes later, her sleek chestnut hair loose about her shoulders and her slim body encased in old denim jeans and a big baggy jumper that reached almost to her knees, she was annoyed to find Romano was still there. Annoyed and disturbed, she admitted honestly.
She would have liked to be unaffected by him, as he was so obviously unaffected by her, but her treacherous heart had started thudding at the bottom of the stairs when she had heard his deep voice talking to Grace, and although her face was blank and cool as she walked into the room her stomach was a quivering jelly.
'Hello, there.' Grace's face was bright and smiling and her voice was cheerful. 'We were just talking about you, actually. I was in a bit of a quandary but Romano has agreed to help out.'
'Has he?' Claire glanced at him cautiously, not liking the implications of her friend's words. The last person, the very last person she would want to help her out was Romano Bellini.
'You know we were all going to see Anna and Alessandro at Amalfi tomorrow—you and Lorenzo and Donato and me?' Grace said sunnily. 'Well, I've been worrying a bit today as I really don't feel like the drive.'
'That's no problem; we don't have to go,' Claire said immediately as an awful suspicion filled her mind.
'But Lorenzo would be so disappointed.' Grace's tone was reproachful. 'You know how he enjoys seeing Giuseppe, and it's been ages since they got together— besides which, Anna and Alessandro are looking forward to meeting you. I've told them so much about you.'
Claire managed a weak smile and prayed that Grace's next words wouldn't be what she thought they were going to be. Her prayers fell on deaf ears.
'I know Donato wouldn't go if I was going to stay here, but Romano's free tomorrow and he said he'll be happy to take you and Lorenzo to Amalfi. He was planning a visit to Alessandro's soon anyway.'
What could she say? Sheer panic made her ears buzz and killed her thought processes dead.
'So…if Romano picks you and Lorenzo up about nine tomorrow morning, would that be all right?' Grace said in the sort of tone that wasn't really asking a question. 'You'll love Anna, she's a pet, and Lorenzo is going to stay overnight so you can leave any time you want after lunch.'
'Grace, I really don't think—'
'And then I shan't feel I'm messing everyone's day up,' Grace said plaintively. 'I feel bad enough as it is, lumbering about like ten-ton Tessie, but the thought of being a killjoy as well…'
'Don't be so silly—you know you aren't that.' It was a fait accompli, wasn't it? Claire thought numbly. Why, oh, why, hadn't Grace asked her about all this first? And why hadn't she hinted to Grace that she didn't like Romano, that she found him difficult to be with—something, anything to have prevented this sort of situation arising?
She hadn't wanted to worry Grace by suggesting that her closest friend didn't get on with her husband's closest friend, that was the main crux of the matter, added to which she had never dreamt, in her wildest dreams, that Grace would organise something like this. Grace wasn't an organiser, she never had been. Until now.
'Does nine suit?' Romano's deep, silky voice was bland, but the dark eyes were wicked as he looked straight at her, the wry twist to his mouth informing her that he was aware of exactly what she was thinking. 'Or perhaps you would prefer to leave a little later?'
'No, nine will be…' She took a deep breath and then ground out, 'That will be fine, thank you.'
'Good, good.' Was she the only one who could hear the smooth mockery in that velvety tone? Claire asked herself incredulously. From the contented and maternal smile on Grace's face, it would appear so. 'Then until tomorrow…' He had stood up as she entered the room, his manners as impeccable as always, and now, as he took her hand and raised it to his lips in polite farewell, she jumped as though she had received an electric shock, snatching her hand away as she took a step backwards.
Mercifully his big frame had hidden her from Grace's sight, but his eyes were lethal as she raised her shocked gaze to his face. She hadn't meant to react like that, she hadn't, but her skin was tingling where his warm firm lips had caressed it, heat sending little jumping sensations up her arm.
And then he had turned, ma
king his goodbyes to Grace in a pleasant, easy tone that told her he was far more adept at hiding his feelings than she was, before leaving the room with swift, purposeful footsteps.
That was a good omen for the next day. She plopped down beside Grace, making her time in the pool her excuse for the weakness in her legs. It was clearly going to be a bundle of laughs. He had been coerced into escorting a female he actively disliked to some old friends for the day, and the very nature of the exercise made it embarrassing for both of them. They were going to have to pretend to get on at least, and although she would have Lorenzo to ease some of the tension on the way there, on the way home it would be just her and Romano. Oh, help…
'I worry about him sometimes.'
'What?' Grace's soft voice had only just penetrated the whirling vortex of her mind, and now she forced herself to concentrate on her friend. 'Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?'
'Romano.' Grace's beautiful blue eyes were cloudy. 'I worry about him living all alone in that great big house without even a cat or a dog for company. It's too solitary a life, even if—' She stopped abruptly.
'Even if what?' Claire asked curiously, feeling, as she had done more than once when she and Grace were alone, that she didn't know the whole story about Romano. But then, did she want to?
'Even if he wants it that way,' Grace said quietly.
'Perhaps he'll change one day.' Claire tried to be comforting. 'When he meets someone else he can love like Bianca.'
'Bianca?' For a moment Claire thought there had been hostility in Grace's voice, but she told herself she must be mistaken.
'Yes, she was so beautiful, wasn't she? And they hadn't been married many years.' Her heart gave a funny little kick and she suddenly found she couldn't go on.
'Oh, Claire, I wish I could tell you.' Grace looked at her almost desperately. 'But I made a promise.'