The Italian's Wife

by Lynne Graham

  dark drawl, his accent very thick.

  'I do!' Holly protested feverishly. 'Maybe I didn't before but I do now.

  I thought sex was awful until tonight...what did I do wrong?'

  Above her, Rio closed his eyes, his expression pained, dark colour

  scoring his fabulous cheekbones. He threw himself back against the

  tumbled pillows with a very male groan. 'You didn't do anything wrong. I

  did it all. The condom broke...'

  As those three words sank in Holly stilled, her face tightening in

  shock. As she processed that admission and registered the potential

  consequences her complexion paled to the colour of milk.

  Springing off the bed with lithe ease, Rio strode in the direction of

  the bathroom. 'Come on,' he urged with wry mockery. 'Let's drown our

  sorrows in the shower!'

  'In a minute...' As he vanished from her view she almost fell off the

  bed in her haste to vacate it. Struggling back into her nightie, she

  fled to her own room, driven by the kind of panic and shame that wanted

  no witnesses.

  77

  Emerging from a restive sleep, conscious that she had still been awake

  at dawn, Holly sat up in bed slowly. With every movement, a telling

  series of aches in certain private places reminded her of her abandoned

  behaviour with Rio the night before and her shadowed eyes filled with

  anguished regret.

  Last night she had locked her bedroom door. Rio had followed her and,

  quiet though he had kept his demands that she open the door, she had

  sensed his angry impatience even through the solid thickness of wood

  separating them. When, minutes later, the bedside phone had rung she had

  rushed to unplug it from the socket.

  She was so ashamed of how stupid and reckless she had been. It was her

  fault that the whole situation had developed in the first place. She

  fully believed that it had been her obvious attraction to Rio which had

  first incited his interest, was convinced that without that sexual spur

  and provocation it would not even have occurred to Rio to touch her. Her

  feelings, her weakness, her reactions had drawn him.

  But at least Rio had thought of precautions. Such a sensible

  consideration had not crossed her mind once and he was hardly to be

  blamed for the reality that misfortune had struck. Misfortune was her

  middle name, Holly reflected, a shuddering sob hurtling up from her

  constricted lungs. Hadn't she learnt anything from Timothy's birth? Was

  she still irresponsible and naive and foolish?

  What on earth had got into her? Another sob quivered through her slender

  frame. She wiped at her eyes but the tears kept coming. How could she

  ever face Rio again? He had been so kind to her and she had had a

  magical time with him earlier in the day. Even last night, when she

  assumed other less well-bred males would have been cursing furiously

  over such an accident, Rio had maintained his cool courtesy. In fact he

  had proved himself a guy worthy of being loved.

  But she had behaved like a slut, she told herself wretchedly; she

  deserved everything she had coming to her, but no baby deserved an

  inadequate mother. For the first time she glanced at the clock by the

  bed and her eyes flew wide in horror because it was already after ten

  and Timmie always woke up around seven!

  Holly leapt out of the bed and unlocked the door. Pausing for an

  instant, she then stopped and grabbed up the luxurious fake-fur she had

  worn to the restaurant and dug her arms into the sleeves before hurtling

  into the room next door to check on her child. In an almost all-male

  household she needed to be careful to cover up and perhaps, had she been

  more sensible the night before, nothing would have happened between her

  and Rio.

  In Timmie's room the nanny, Sarah, looked up with a smile. She was in

  the midst of dressing Timmie. Holly was startled, for she had assumed

  that the nanny had only been brought in to look after her son for just

  the one day.

  'Good morning, Miss Sansom. Aren't these clothes beautiful?' Sarah said

  chattily as if there was nothing odd about Holly choosing to wear a

  fake-fur coat over her nightie. She held up a tiny navy reefer jacket

  embroidered with a Scottie dog motif and a pair of miniature checked

  trousers for Holly's inspection. 'Mr Lombardi had a whole selection of

  outfits for Timothy delivered this morning.'

  The 'Timothy' tag had spread, Holly noted in a daze. Rio had had

  clothing purchased for her son? Was there no

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  end to his generosity? Or her own indebtedness? Didn't he understand how

  hard it was to continually receive gifts when she was in no position to

  reciprocate? Although she was longing to hold her baby in her arms, she

  backed to the door again. 'I'll just go and get dressed.'

  But her attempt to re-enter her own room was forestalled by the reality

  that there was a giant heap of boxes and bags now sitting on her bed and

  two manservants were engaged in opening them. A frown of bemusement on

  her brow, she stared. What was going on?

  'I'm glad you put the coat on, bella mia,' a dark, deep drawl remarked

  from behind her. 'I wouldn't like anyone but me to see you in that

  nightdress.'

  Holly whirled round. 'For goodness' sake, what are those blokes doing?'

  'Unpacking your new wardrobe...what else?'

  'Wh-what new wardrobe?' A band of tension was tightening like a vice

  round Holly's temples. It was as if she had woken up in another world

  where everything was slightly different from what it ought to have been.

  But she had still to look any higher than the level of Rio's gold silk tie.

  'What we bought yesterday.'

  'Are you telling me...there was more than that dress I wore out and the

  coat?' Holly gasped, appalled by that news.

  'Dio mio, of course there was more. You had nothing but what you stood

  up in,' Rio pointed out rather drily.

  'But I can't let-'

  'Excuse me...' Striding past her, Rio snapped his fingers to alert his

  staffs attention and addressed them in Italian. The two men immediately

  abandoned their task and filed out. Closing his fingers over hers, Rio

  drew her into the

  bedroom and pushed the door closed. 'Right now we have something rather

  more important to worry about-'

  Holly was gazing aghast at the huge heap of shopping strewn across the

  bed. 'You can't do this, Rio...it's not right, it's totally wrong-'

  'Holly,' Rio slotted in grimly, 'in fifteen minutes a Miss Elliott will

  be calling to see us and you need to get dressed. I suggest you wear one

  of your new outfits.'

  Her brow indented. 'Who's Miss Elliott?'

  "The social worker whom you would have seen had you remained in hospital.'

  Holly had turned a sickly shade. 'But how did she find out I was here in

  your house?'

  Rio's wide, sensual mouth compressed. 'I informed Dr Coulter, who's a

  friend of mine, that I had brought you here-'

  Holly was trying very hard not to burst into tears. 'Some

  friend...shopping me to the authorities!'

  'Per meraviglia! Will you stop talking as thou
gh you are a criminal? You

  and Timothy are both all right now, but naturally enquiries have to be

  made to establish that fact.'

  "They'll t-take him away from me...' Holly sobbed, backing away from him

  in her distress.

  Rio gripped her by the shoulders, dark-as-midnight eyes level. 'Nobody

  is going to take him away from you. I promise you that. Now pull

  yourself together and come downstairs-'

  'I can't-'

  'You're talking like a child.' Rio dealt her a hard look of censure,

  lean, dark features set in impatient lines. 'This matter will be easily

  resolved. Once I inform the woman that I intend to marry you, she will

  see that neither you nor your son are in need of further support.'

  As he released his hold on her Holly fell back from him,

  80

  thunderstruck by that statement. 'You're going to tell her that we're

  getting...married?'

  'And the less you say on the subject the better...OK?' Rio breathed,

  striding back to the door and flipping it shut in his wake.

  In a daze, Holly blinked as comprehension slowly sank in. Yet she was

  amazed that Rio was willing to tell such a whopping lie on her behalf.

  However, that fiction would indeed satisfy any concerns as to her son's

  future well-being. Rio Lombardi was rich, respectable and a noted

  philanthropist, she reminded herself dizzily. He was the fake

  husband-to-be from heaven, only lacking an actual halo. He was also very

  clever. She was really touched that he was prepared to spout such a

  story purely for her benefit. Not that he was exactly looking forward to

  the prospect, she conceded, shame assailing her. Rio had had a bleak,

  grim aspect new to her experience of him. Most probably he wished he had

  never met her and never got involved.

  But the least she could do to back up his story was look the part of a

  woman on the brink of marriage to a very wealthy man. She lifted a

  turquoise dress and jacket from the bed and rooted about until she found

  the toning shoes. Imagine him spending such a huge amount of money on

  her! So crazy too! He really and truly had no concept of the life she

  led or of her level in society compared with his own. Where the heck did

  he think she would wear designer suits and fancy evening outfits?

  Neither Timmie nor his nanny were in his room when she emerged from her

  own. Holly descended the stairs, taking careful steps in the high heels.

  Her heart was beating so fast with fear and nerves she felt sick. She

  dawdled in the hall, scanning her reflection, once again barely

  recognising herself. Who was that slender figure in the beautifully cut

  jacket that just screamed class and expense?

  A door swung open off the hall. 'Holly...hurry up,' Rio urged with

  controlled exasperation.

  Even talking like that, he was just so beautiful, Holly thought

  painfully. And fear was unknown to him. Of course, he could not

  understand or sympathise with her distress. Of course, her terror struck

  him as being exaggerated and illogical. He had probably never been in a

  situation he could not control. He did not know what it was to feel

  powerless and at the mercy of others. Good and well-meaning people those

  other parties might be, but sometimes they took terrifying and merciless

  decisions.

  A blonde older woman with cool blue eyes and a distinct air of

  efficiency was seated in the drawing room and immediately addressed her.

  'Miss Holly Sansom?' she queried, scanning Holly's appearance with

  dubious brows raised like question marks.

  'Yes...I'm Holly.'

  Timmie was sitting on the rug with some toys and he chortled and held

  out his arms when he saw his mother. In his fancy togs, he looked not

  only like a baby who had swallowed a silver spoon at birth but a baby

  who might well have swallowed an entire silver service. Scooping her son

  up, Holly sat down with him on her lap and hugged him tight, her chin

  resting on his sweet-smelling fluffy dark curls.

  'Dr Coulter informed me that you're living here for the present, Miss

  Sansom,' the blonde woman commented. 'Is that true?'

  'Holly and I are getting married,' Rio imparted with the utmost casualness.

  And that was just about that, bar a few minor comments. The blonde was

  taken aback, but then she consulted the file in her lap and lifted her

  gaze to study Timmie. Last of all, she directed her attention in a

  discreet flicker at Rio and a

  82

  faint smile flickered at the corner of her lips. 'I'm so pleased that

  the situation has been sorted out. Timmie looks very content.'

  'I hope to adopt Timothy as my son,' Rio remarked.

  The other woman nodded slowly but now looked slightly bemused before

  finally wishing them all well and rising to leave.

  Leaving Rio to take care of the courtesies, Holly just flopped where she

  sat.

  Rio strode back through the door again, lean, strong face taut. 'Miss

  Elliott just assumed that Timothy was my child.'

  Holly flushed to the roots of her hair and sat up with a start,

  corkscrew curls bouncing. That possibility had not occurred to her, but

  as soon as Rio suggested it she recalled the way the social worker had

  behaved. 'Honestly? Did she say something on her way out?'

  'She didn't need to. It was written all over her face. I suppose Timothy

  has quite dark hair and that possible explanation for our marital plans

  made the most sense to her. But I don't like anyone believing that I

  would treat the mother of my child as you were treated by your son's

  father. That's why I referred to my wish to adopt Timothy.' Having given

  her that frank assurance and made her stiffen with embarrassed

  discomfiture, Rio crossed the room to hunker down and survey her son,

  whose big blue eyes were drowsy. 'He's amazing. He spends half the

  morning getting fed and bathed and dressed and no sooner is he up and

  about than he's ready for his cot again!'

  Grateful for that distraction, Holly burbled, 'He's always slept a lot.

  He's a good baby. You were really wonderful with Miss Elliott, Rio.' She

  nibbled awkwardly at her lower lip as she thanked him for his support.

  'Very convincing. I know you couldn't have enjoyed saying that about you

  and me...but I'm very grateful and, no matter what happens, I'll never,

  ever take a risk like that with my son again.'

  Rio surveyed her strained expression with narrowed dark, glittering eyes

  and frowned. 'I do believe we've been talking at cross purposes. We'll

  discuss that after you've taken Timothy up for his nap.'

  Cross purposes? What cross purposes? And how come she was only now

  noticing how domineering his powerful personality could make Rio seem?

  He came off with commands as if to the manner born. But then, she

  supposed he had been born to that sort of stuff, she reflected

  forgivingly, feeling truly guilty and ungrateful for thinking on such

  lines after all he had done to help her.

  What if you conceive again? a little voice sniped in the back of her

  mind. Are you going to think of that as help too? Her tummy churned. She

  adored her son but knew sh
e could not in her present circumstances cope

  with a second child. But then Rio was already letting her know that he

  would not abandon her, wasn't he? How come she had not immediately

  recognised why he had made that speech about how he would not treat the

  mother of his child in the manner that her ex-boyfriend had treated her?

  But there was so much tension between them now. He was no longer relaxed

  with her. That was what that reckless bout of lovemaking had done. It

  had spoilt things, she reflected wretchedly, and cringed at the intimate

  images teeming in her memory banks. Not once even yet had she managed to

  look Rio directly in the face. Last night she had sobbed and begged and

  pleaded for him to make love to her. There was no forgetting that. She

  had been out of control, totally out of control and out of her depth,

  but even she knew that men preferred a challenge to a push-over. Rio

  Lombardi was hardly the sort of male who needed an adoring slave to

  massage his ego. Women had to be falling

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  in the aisles around him, so he would want and expect more.

  Nervous as a cat walking over hot coals, Holly returned to the drawing room.

  Rio swung round from the window, tall, dark and immaculate in his

  tailored business suit. 'When I said that we were getting married, it

  wasn't some crazy story, cara.'

  Not understanding his meaning, Holly stilled with a frown of confusion.