‘Yes, my dear Lexi, though in the present circumstances I am going to have to wait a few weeks to be assured of the parenthood,’ he said cynically ‘I have no intention of being stuck with your boyfriend’s offspring...’
‘Why, you...’ Lexi leapt to her feet as the meaning of his words hit her. ‘I...’
‘Not again, Lexi.’ His arms swept around her and held her hard against him. ‘Tomorrow you are coming with me, and I intend to watch you every minute of every day until the time is right, and then, my dear Lexi, you and I will resume our marriage fully. Understood?’
‘You can’t make me.’ Though once more held firmly in his arms, she had a horrible feeling he probably could.
‘If I let you go, will you endeavour to behave like a lady for a change and listen?’ He smiled mockingly down into her once again flushed and furious face.
‘Yes,’ she got out between clenched teeth: she would do anything to escape his all too familiar embrace.
‘Good.’ And, lifting her off her feet, he deposited her once more on the sofa and sat down beside her, his hard thigh pressing lightly against her slender limbs. She eased along the sofa putting a little space between them. He shot her a cynically amused glance and then, leaning back in the seat, he steepled his long fingers in front of him, for all the world as if he was about to give a lecture.
‘It is really quite simple, dear Lexi. I have bought this hotel. You are now employed by me.’
She couldn’t believe it. ‘You own... Then I’ll resign...’
Ignoring her comment, he continued in a voice devoid of all emotion, ‘Unless you do as I say, I will cancel the sale, and Signor Monicelli will not get the money, and his son will not recover.’
Her head spun as the implications of his words sank in. She flashed him an angry glance, hating him in that second more than she had in all the years they had been apart. ‘There are other people in the world who might buy the hotel,’ she shot back sarcastically. ‘You are not the only businessman on the planet, even if you like to think you are,’ she lashed out in fear. She did not like where the conversation was going.
‘True,’ he agreed silkily, his gaze never wavering from her taut, rebellious features. ‘But aren’t you forgetting an important factor?’ he prompted smoothly, but the underlying steel in his tone was unmistakable. ‘Time is of the essence for young Marco. This place has made only a modest profit in the last couple of years and I have the power to make it known that it is not a viable proposition,’ he elaborated cynically. ‘If young Marco’s trip to America is delayed or cancelled, who knows?’ He turned his hands palms up in a negligent gesture. ‘It will be a great shame if he is condemned to a wheelchair all his life, simply because the money is not available for his treatment.’
Lexi stared in horror at his hard, chiselled features. Not a flicker of compassion lightened his indigo eyes. No! her mind screamed silently, she couldn’t do it, tie herself to this man once again when she knew there was only hatred between them. ‘Why—why me?’ she asked dazedly. It didn’t make any kind of sense...
One eyebrow arched sardonically. ‘You’re my wife. I’m a very wealthy man, I need an heir and I don’t believe in divorce. Nor do I appreciate hearing my wife is thinking of marrying another man.’
He might as well have added so there, Lexi thought in stunned amazement. Obviously it must have been a blow to his pride to discover she had a boyfriend. How typically chauvinistic. It was all right for Jake to have an affair with his PA but the slightest rumour that his estranged wife might do the same and he was hot-foot to Italy to put a stop to it. Talk about double standards! But why was she so surprised? she asked herself sadly. This was the same man who had broken his marriage vow to her and then expected her to toast him and his girlfriend in champagne. The so-called civilised sophisticates, but Lexi had never been one of them.
With a jerky movement she staggered to her feet and walked across the room to gaze sightlessly out into the dark night. How could she be responsible for Signor Monicelli’s losing the sale? For young Marco’s perhaps being tied to a wheelchair for life? She spun around.
Jake had followed her and was standing a step away. She looked up at him, and it was a stranger’s face she saw. ‘Would you really condemn a man...?’
‘Believe it.’ Jake brutally cut her off, and she did... It was there in his mocking smile and the ruthless glint in his eyes. ‘Technically, Lexi, it is only you who can condemn the man to his chair, not I,’ he said callously, adding, ‘Yes, or no, Lexi?’
It wasn’t fair, she raged inwardly, Jake must know damn fine there was no way she could let the Monicellis down; they had virtually saved her sanity five years ago, and she owed them. Why now, she fumed, just when she had got her life in order? Dante...Dante; she had today promised to marry him.
‘Dante... What can I tell him?’ she cried in dismay, unconsciously giving her answer.
She did not see the flash of triumph in Jake’s eyes before his expression hardened fractionally. ‘You can ring him before we leave in the morning, but I will not allow you to see him,’ he warned icily.
‘Leave? I can’t leave, I have my job...’
‘Not any more.’ And striding across the room he picked up the telephone receiver and dialled a number. ‘Lorraine, get over to the Piccolo Paradiso first thing in the morning. I want you to take charge until a permanent manager can be found. OK...Goodnight.’ Jake replaced the receiver and turned, a smile of triumph curving his hard mouth. ‘Your replacement arrives in the morning.’
Lexi stood as though turned to stone at the mention of the other woman’s name, her violet eyes blank as her thoughts turned inwards; Jake had it all arranged, must have been planning it for weeks. The fact she had started divorce proceedings had little or nothing to do with it.
‘The divorce didn’t matter?’ she said to herself.
‘No, not really. I had every intention of reclaiming you. The fax from my lawyer simply made me speed up the proceedings.’
‘Lorraine.’ She almost choked on the name. ‘Why didn’t you divorce me and marry her years ago?’ she demanded. After all, it was what he had intended—she had heard them discussing it. She raised angry eyes to Jake’s. ‘She’s still with you. Let her give you the heir you say you want,’ she prompted sarcastically.
‘Lorraine is much more valuable to my business than she could ever be as a wife and mother,’ he offered casually.
‘And that’s it?’ Lexi stared into his harsh face, unable to believe what she was hearing. ‘You expect me to crawl back into your bed and provide you with a child.’ She could not keep the shock and horror out of her voice. ‘And at the same time, your mistress—’
‘Why so surprised?’ Jake cut in cynically. ‘You’ve lived in Italy for years, you were planning on marrying an Italian. It’s quite common in this part of the world for the wife and mother to be revered, while the mistress provides the fun.’
He meant it, he actually meant what he said. ‘There is no way on this earth I will put up with an unfaithful husband. You should know that better than most, Jake,’ she said scathingly. Hadn’t she left him because of his infidelity?
‘Should I?’ he queried with a puzzled frown.
Lexi answered with a snort of disgust. Who was he kidding, pretending innocence? Certainly not her...
‘Well, I suppose I can live with that. No Lorraine in my bed, and no Dante anywhere near you.’ He smiled, a bleak twist of his hard mouth. ‘Agreed.’ And he held out his hand. ‘Shake on it.’
Hardly knowing what she was doing, she put her hand in his. Lorraine, his mistress, or ex if Jake was to be believed, was near by, ready to take her job, the same way as she had taken Lexi’s husband years ago. It was so evil her mind could not absorb it. He didn’t even like her, and yet...
‘You called me mercenary before, Jake; surely you don’t want a gold-digger as the mother of your child?’ she scorned in a last-ditch attempt to save herself.
‘Let me wor
ry about that, Lexi, you look tired. Get to bed, I have one or two more calls to make.’ Jake’s voice sounded almost gentle, but it could not mask the ruthless satisfaction she saw in his eyes.
‘Yes, I’ll go to bed,’ Lexi agreed coldly. ‘But first I want you to know I think you are utterly despicable, a man without conscience or morals, completely evil. I hate you and always will.’ And the very softness of her tone was more convincing than any angry outburst could ever be.
CHAPTER FIVE
HEAD high, and stiff-backed Lexi marched into the bedroom. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing he had frightened her into running away again. Anyway, hadn’t he said himself that to touch her tonight would disgust him, she reassured herself as she undressed for bed. Hours later she plumped the pillow for the umpteenth time and, emotionally and mentally exhausted from trying to think of a way out of the disastrous situation she was in, she finally fell asleep, refusing to listen to the devilish imp inside her that traitorously wished Jake had joined her.
* * *
Lexi half opened her eyes, a distant ringing echoing in her head. Oh, God, the alarm—was it seven already? she thought sleepily and, automatically stretching out her hand, she silenced the offending clock on the bedside table. She groaned and suddenly froze, aware of a hard weight around her waist and the pressure of strong fingers curved around the underside of her breast. The full horror of the previous evening swamped her sleep-hazed mind. Jake was back and, worse, in her bed...
Slowly, she turned her head; Jake was lying flat on his stomach, one long arm flung across her waist, the other dangling over the side of the bed. She couldn’t see his face, only the back of his head, the dark hair rumpled, and his heavy breathing loud on the still air. Tense, she held her breath, the warmth of his fingers through the fabric of her nightshirt arousing an achingly familiar response. She bit her lip, fighting down the swift stab of desire, and, making sure he was sound asleep, with the utmost caution she carefully slid out from under his arm, her feet finding the floor. She stopped as he grunted and turned over on to his back. It was OK, his eyes were still closed, and she was standing on his pyjamas!
She stood up, pulling her plain cotton nightshirt down over her thighs, and glanced down at the sleeping man. Completely relaxed, he looked years younger, his hair fell casually over his broad forehead, his firm mouth gentle in sleep. She had to restrain the urge to reach out and smooth his hair from his brow. His muscular chest with its dark covering of body hair rose and fell in an even rhythm, the single cotton cover was wrapped around his thighs, barely covering the core of his masculinity. His long arms and legs were spreadeagled across the bed; he looked devastatingly male, open and somehow vulnerable, waiting to be touched.
God! What was she thinking of? She shook her head in self-disgust and stealthily moved across the room, her nose wrinkled in irritation; there was a strong smell of alcohol in the air. She cast one last glance at the sleeping man before slipping into the bathroom. Surely Jake hadn’t turned into a drinker! That was all she needed, a drunken husband.
Ten minutes later, bathed and dressed in her usual uniform of dark skirt and crisp white blouse, she cast one last glance at the still sleeping figure, her lips quirked in the semblance of a smile; he was going to have a hell of a hangover when he finally surfaced. Serve the swine right, she told herself, as she strode into the living-room. An empty whisky bottle and glass on an occasional table beside the sofa caught her gaze. Jake had certainly made a night of it, and she couldn’t help wondering why.
She had stormed off to bed last night, knowing Jake had won but refusing to give up entirely. She had lain for hours unable to sleep, trying to find an escape, until finally she had virtually passed out, still wondering and fearing what the outcome of the evening’s events would be. One option she had never considered was Jake getting plastered! It was hardly flattering to her; he was a powerful, dynamic male, and the years had not affected his masculine virility one bit. There was something about him, the way he moved, an earthy maleness that attracted the female of the species like bees around a honey-pot. She doubted if any woman had ever left his bed unsatisfied, until now...
Dear God! She was doing it again, fantasising about the man. Annoyed with herself, she caught her rambling thoughts before they sank into eroticism. She was trapped and supposed to be finding a way out of the mess, not dreaming about the man.
Closing the door of the suite quietly behind her she slung her shoulder bag over her arm and headed for the lift. Moments later, she walked into the hotel reception and stopped, her eyes widening at the sight that met her eyes. Franco was standing, his mouth hanging open like a goldfish, while a tall, elegant woman was telling him in a cold, clipped voice exactly what to do. It was Lorraine...
‘Excuse me,’ Lexi said firmly, striding across to the desk. ‘Have we some problem here?’
Lorraine spun around to face her. The older woman was as stunning as ever, perhaps a few more lines around her perfectly made-up eyes, and a hint of more hardness in the glossy mouth, but the smart cream suit she wore screamed designer original, as did the matching hide bag and shoes.
‘Not any more, Lexi,’ Lorraine stated flatly, her dark eyes glittering oddly. ‘As of now, I am the manager by order of the new owner, as you know. Now, where is Jake? I need to speak with him.’
‘And hello to you too, Lorraine,’ Lexi murmured sarcastically. ‘Still as super-efficient as ever, I see.’ It hurt her to see her husband’s mistress; she hated herself for the weakness, and tried to hide it behind a cool control she was far from feeling.
‘If this man is anything to go by you could do with some efficiency around here. I have been trying for the past ten minutes to discover which room is Jake’s.’
It gave Lexi great satisfaction to say, ‘Franco probably didn’t realise Jake is sharing my suite; I left him asleep, he’s worn out, poor man.’ She deliberately dropped her tone suggestively. ‘But if you insist on disturbing him...’ And she held out the key. Lorraine snatched it from her hand and stalked off to the stairs without a word.
‘Is it true, Lexi, you’re leaving?’ Franco burst into impassioned speech; it took Lexi five minutes to calm him down and her explanation was inept, to say the least. Finally, fed up with the whole affair, she did what she should have done the night before. She walked out of the hotel and to her car, started the motor and drove off. She wasn’t running away, she told herself, but she needed time, time to think, time to plan, and she owed it to Dante to see him and tell him what had happened.
She drove down into Sorrento looking in her rear-view mirror every few seconds, afraid of being followed, although her rational mind told her it was highly unlikely. Jake, even if he was awake, was probably in no fit state to drive, and anyway Lorraine was with him... Jake had agreed last night to complete fidelity when or if they resumed their marriage, but technically they had not yet consummated their reunion. Did that mean Lorraine even now was occupying the space Lexi had so recently vacated. In bed with Jake...
Lexi brought the car to a screaming halt outside a small café that was open early in the morning. Dante’s apartment was two blocks away. She sat down at the bar counter and ordered a cappuccino. She drank the first cup in seconds, grateful for the reviving brew, and ordered another, along with a handful of loose change.
Feeling once more in control, she picked up the counter-top telephone and dialled Signor Monicelli’s number. She was not beaten yet, she swore silently. She needed to know for herself if Jake’s story was correct. Five minutes later she had her answer; by a bit of judicious questioning, Signor Monicelli had confirmed her worst fear: there was no way he could or would want to delay the hotel sale. He was expecting the cheque to be paid into his bank that morning and he was leaving with Marco tomorrow for America.
‘That’s great...’ Lexi heard herself murmur, her heart in her feet.
‘Si, si. I’m praying nothing goes wrong, and I am depending on you, Lexi, to work as well for
the new owner as you have done for me. It would be disastrous if he takes up his option of pulling out within twelve months, and I don’t get the final payment.’
‘Final payment?’ Lexi queried.
‘Yes, the finance is arranged in three instalments; I get the final one in eighteen months’ time. So remember, be nice to the man.’
At the mention of eighteen months, Lexi’s half-formed plan to disappear as soon as she got the opportunity bit the dust.
Lexi dropped the phone back in its cradle, his last comment echoing in her head. ‘Let me know when you and Dante are to marry and I will return for the ceremony.’ What a joke! But it solved one puzzle. Signor Monicelli had not betrayed her. He obviously did not know Jake was her wayward husband.
Reluctantly she picked up the receiver once again and dialled Dante’s number. He had already left for work. She glanced at her wrist. Damn! She had forgotten her watch. She looked up at the clock behind the counter and was surprised to see it was nine. She finished her second cup of coffee and rang Dante’s shop. She did not want to call round as that would be the first place Jake would look, she was sure. When she replaced the receiver for the last time, she had to brush the moisture from her eyes. It was so unfair—Dante was a good, kind man and he didn’t deserve what she was going to do to him.
She walked out of the bar, her footsteps slow and weary. It was a hot, clear morning, the sun brilliant in a clear, blue sky and the temperature was already in the eighties. Slowly, she walked across to her car and, getting in, sat behind the wheel. She was meeting Dante at nine-thirty and she needed to work out what she would say to him.
Lexi closed her eyes, her head falling forward to rest on her arms crossed over the steering-wheel. She had nowhere to run to. Her life and everything she owned was back at the hotel. A tear escaped to roll down her soft cheek. She thought of Marco and his father; she couldn’t possibly hurt them. Jake had done his work well, she was trapped and at his mercy. But the man she had seen last night didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘mercy’. She had seen it in his face, in his cold-blooded determination to have his own way. He was a ruthless bastard who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.
Nothing Changes Love Page 8