Celebration: Italian Boss, Ruthless RevengeOne Magical ChristmasHired: The Italian’s Convenient Mistress

by Carol Marinelli

  Surely not! Ainslie decided as she plunged into the underground—as if Enid would be following her!

  Such flights of fancy flew from her mind the second she emerged at her destination, running now along the familiar street, tears filling her eyes at all he was going through.

  And when she saw his tired smile as he opened the door it was entirely natural to fall into his arms and both give and receive a cuddle.

  ‘Oh, Angus,’ Ainslie sobbed, ‘I just read it in the paper. I only just heard. I’m so sorry for all that you’re going through.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ‘WE’RE fine!’ Just as nice, and just as assured as he always had been, for the hundredth time Angus reassured her.

  Ainslie was sloshing in tea. His mother, who had flown down from Scotland to help, had made them a vast pot, then taken Guido to play with Jack and Clemmie and left them to get on with it.

  ‘And despite what the papers say it really wasn’t a shock. Our marriage has been over for ages.’

  ‘Then why did you stay together?’

  ‘The plan was to keep things going till both the children were at school. We got a nanny so that Gemma could keep her career and I would hopefully make enough money in the meantime, before I ended up a single dad—which isn’t an easy thing to be when you’re an A&E consultant.’

  ‘And a celebrity doctor.’

  ‘Pays well!’ Angus gave a tired grin back. ‘I don’t want them brought up by nannies.

  ‘I’ve had help from one of the nurses at the hospital, Imogen—she’s Australian like you, and now mum’s here—honestly, I’ve got it all under control.’

  ‘So you really are okay?’ Ainslie asked Angus.

  ‘I really am,’ Angus confirmed. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’m doing okay.’

  ‘You’re welcome here, Ainslie … you know that.’

  ‘That’s good to know.’ Ainslie smiled as he glanced at his watch and winced.

  ‘Celebrity doctor calls!’

  ‘I’d better go too.’

  Ainslie …’ Angus frowned as he saw her to the door and she strapped in Guido. ‘When Gemma accused you …’

  And she’d never been more grateful for Guido’s terrible manners—never been more grateful for a fifteen-month-old throwing a hissy fit as she clipped him in. She didn’t really want to tell Angus what had happened that day.

  Some things a deserted husband really didn’t need to know, no matter how well he was doing, and at that moment Ainslie decided again that no one, not even Angus would ever hear that particular piece of truth from her.

  ‘Elijah!’

  He was the last person she’d been expecting to see when she arrived home. And not only was he there, but his smile was wide, his mood buoyant. When they walked in he scooped Guido into his arms, raining his face with kisses before landing a deep one on Ainslie’s mouth.

  ‘Where were you?’

  ‘Just walking.’ Ainslie shrugged, wondering how she could tell him, or not tell him, and deciding to work that one out later.

  ‘Enid said you rushed off—that you seemed upset.’

  ‘I just needed to think.’

  ‘Me too!’ And even though Guido was between them, suddenly it was just they two. Ainslie a bit shy in the knowledge that she loved him, and Elijah somewhat hesitant too. ‘We need to talk,’ he said softly.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Really talk,’ he confirmed. ‘Because this little guy deserves what’s best for him—and we deserve what’s best for us as well.’

  ‘I know that too.’

  ‘Not here, though.’ Elijah smiled, an easy, natural smile she had never before witnessed, and there was an ease to him that was as confusing as it was welcome.

  ‘Enid?’ He turned to the housekeeper as she walked in. ‘Would you be able to watch Guido tonight? I want to take Ainslie out for dinner.’

  ‘Of course!’ Enid beamed, taking the little guy and leaving them alone.

  ‘I have to go out for an hour,’ he said, pulling her grumbling into his arms. ‘I know, I know.’ He smiled into her hair. ‘There’s just a couple of things I need to clear up.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I’ll tell you over dinner.’ He kissed her thoroughly, giving her just a taste of what was to come later, before reluctantly letting her go and opening the front door.

  ‘What?’ He registered her frown. ‘Ainslie, I really will tell you everything later.’

  ‘It’s not that. I just …’ She laughed at her own paranoia. ‘I feel as if I’m being watched—you haven’t got Enid spying on me, have you?’

  ‘Enid?’ Elijah grinned as Tony opened the car door. ‘No, I haven’t got Enid spying on you.’

  ‘Maybe Ms Anderson has.’

  ‘That really is paranoid.’ He kissed her again on the lips. ‘I’ll tell you everything tonight.’

  He would.

  She just knew.

  And so would she.

  Would somehow summon the courage to tell him she loved him—loved him so much that she couldn’t be a fill-in fiancée or a fill-in wife, could only be the real thing—and if that wasn’t what he wanted then she needed to know.

  So she readied herself for their first proper date.

  She bathed herself in oils and scent, and put on her very favourite knickers—hoping, hoping to find out if they were his favourite too. Winced as she sprayed deodorant under newly shaved arms then set to work on hair that was so spectacularly cut now that it just fell into glossy shape.

  Her trembling fingers even somehow managed eyeliner, and the thrill in the pit of the stomach grew as she pulled on stockings and shoes and a certain little black dress that had been chosen for her. Her cleavage was spectacularly enhanced by a certain ruby—so much so that she didn’t even need earrings, didn’t need a single thing except whatever it was Elijah had to say.

  Hearing his key in the door, she felt her nerves catch up a touch, causing her to breathe in a few times before dabbing at her lipstick and then heading down the stairs, ready to face her future.

  His back was to her, and when he turned around the shy smile on her face faded as she saw his expression.

  The loathing, the hatred in his eyes, halted her.

  ‘Judas!’ He spat the word, and it hit her like a slap. ‘You lying slut.’

  And this from the man she’d been about to confess her love to.

  ‘Here!’ He mounted the stairs in two long strides. ‘Before your brain comes up with an excuse—I’ll show you there can be no excuse. Walking?’ he shouted, thrusting photos into her shaking hands. ‘Thinking? You lie so easily you probably don’t even know you are doing it.’

  And his irrefutable evidence was there for her to see.

  The friendly cuddle between herself and Angus sordid and sullied now as she flicked through the photos.

  ‘You did have me followed!’

  ‘Of course I had you followed. Did you think I would trust you with my nephew otherwise?’

  ‘Yes …’ Ainslie whispered at his hot angry breath. ‘Yes—because stupid me actually thought that you did.’

  ‘Did what?’ he roared, as Enid came out to see what all the noise was about. Tony followed behind—his services seemingly not now required for tonight.

  ‘Trust me.’ Ainslie shuddered the words out. ‘Somehow, in all of this, I believed that somewhere deep down you trusted me, and somehow—despite my head telling me otherwise—somehow I trusted you too.’ Handing back the photos, she didn’t offer any defence—didn’t need to make excuses for herself to him. ‘Clearly I was wrong—on both counts.’

  ‘And that’s it?’ Elijah demanded. ‘That is all you have to say for yourself?’

  ‘That’s it.’ Ainslie nodded, sniffing back her tears and somehow standing proud.

  ‘Tony?’ She called to his driver. She couldn’t even face going up the stairs to get her things, couldn’t stand to be in his presence a second longer. ‘Can you take me to a hot
el, please? Enid …’ She forced a smile at her lovely friend. ‘I shan’t be needing the spare room tonight.’

  ‘Ainslie …’ Elijah grabbed her wrist as she headed for the door, but she shook him off.

  ‘I’m running, Elijah, but I’m not hiding. Tony will tell you where I’m staying, and just as soon as you send my things on I’ll check out. Oh, and I’d hurry if I were you,’ she added. ‘You know how much I like nice things!’

  And that was almost all she had to say for herself—she swore that from this day on she’d never defend herself to him.

  ‘You’re the Judas.’ Ainslie called out as her parting shot.

  So the charade they’d started continued.

  No draughty hostel or serviced apartment for Elijah Vanaldi’s ex-fiancée.

  The plushest of London hotels, a famous name in her guidebook, was suddenly home for now.

  Nothing was too much trouble when she arrived in the vast lobby in her little black dress, with a tissue sodden with tears.

  A luxury suite was arranged in a trice.

  Strawberry daiquiris and white chocolate ice cream with hot raspberry sauce was sent up on her endless demand.

  She’d never wanted his money—Ainslie knew that—but she’d damn well spend it. Would stoop to his gutter level because he expected nothing less.

  But it didn’t help.

  Nothing helped.

  Nothing dimmed her pain.

  Not the ninety-minute massage or the pampering facial. Not the wardrobe that had materialised as if by magic, thanks to the personal shopper the concierge, without a turn of his hair, had discreetly arranged.

  And she wished he’d stop her credit card—wished, wished he’d send her her things. Ainslie sobbed into her very soft pillow and wished, wished that this horrible bit was over, so that somehow she could move on. So that somehow she could pick up the pieces and salvage what was left of her heart.

  Only it couldn’t last—the frenzied spending, the venom, the hate. It just wasn’t her—the gold-digging woman she’d played for a night and a day was so far removed from the red swollen face that looked back at her from the mirror it made her wince.

  ‘Enough!’ she told her reflection—because it was.

  She didn’t need to wait for the master to send her things—didn’t need to explain herself to him.

  And it would have been nice to keep it, but it would surely hurt for ever to look at so she took off her necklace and placed it in an envelope with her note.

  Handed it in to Reception as she settled her bill.

  ‘Could you make sure that Elijah Vanaldi gets this when he contacts the hotel?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘It should probably go in the safe,’ Ainslie added, turning around. That funny old feeling was back now, and she was sure, quite sure, she was being watched.

  She probably was, Ainslie decided, slipping the receipt into her purse.

  Clearly Elijah liked to keep an eye on his things.

  Well, she wasn’t one of his things any more. So, to the receptionist’s discreet cough, Ainslie turned around and stuck up two fingers for the camera, deciding to have afternoon tea while she was there!

  Only this bill she would settle herself.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  COULD he forgive her?

  Elijah asked the unthinkable for the thousandth time.

  The house was a morgue without her.

  The Christmas tree had been taken down, the decorations packed away, and just this vast empty void remained in his soul where the grieving must now begin. For all he had lost, for all Guido had lost too.

  ‘Ijah!’ A delicious smile dragged him from the depths, a face full of dribbles and an endless supply of wet kisses stared up from his knees, banana-smeared hands reaching out for a cuddle. ‘Ijah.’

  ‘So you learn my name?’ Scooping him up, Elijah gazed at him, stared into eyes that were like mirrors, and the answers he’d sought so hard to find were there for him to see.

  His search had brought up nothing, his hunch had proved unfounded. He had found nothing to pin the Castellas with Maria’s and Rico’s death. Now, with Ainslie gone, when Ms Anderson found out—as she surely would—that it had all been a ruse, Social Services’ decision would be inevitable. Elijah had conceded his playboy, jet-setting lifestyle really wasn’t fitting for a small child, so, yes, maybe Guido would be better off with two parents and cousins. Even if to Elijah they weren’t ideal.

  There was just one detail he hadn’t factored in when he’d been searching his soul to make the best choices for his nephew’s future. One slight hiccough in all his mental calculations that Elijah hadn’t spotted.

  ‘I love you.’

  For the first time in his life Elijah said it, and it was like opening the lid on a shaken bottle. Bubbles fizzed in, and he felt the utter release that came with such a simple truth.

  ‘I do.’ He smiled at his nephew, smiled because Guido neither noticed nor cared how monumental this moment was. ‘Which means I’m going to have to keep you.’

  ‘Ijah!’ Guido chanted, maybe not so oblivious after all.

  ‘Which may not please some people …’ Elijah gave a grim smile. But he was ready for the challenge now—there wasn’t a fight he couldn’t win if he didn’t put his heart into it.

  Except one.

  ‘What do I do?’

  Again he asked Guido, and again Guido didn’t answer.

  ‘Hey …’ Elijah kissed his soggy face. ‘At least I’ll get the sympathy vote from the single mothers at the play place you go to …’

  ‘Playgroup …’ Enid said, walking in unheard. ‘My sister just called. I was hoping to meet her for coffee—I thought I might take Guido.’ Enid’s voice was polite and formal, just as it had been since Ainslie had left, but he could feel her holding back, knew there was plenty she’d like to say to him—that he was a fool, an idiot, that he’d let the best thing that had ever happened to him walk out of the door. But Enid didn’t have to say it.

  Elijah knew it already.

  ‘I suppose you’ll be discussing us?’

  ‘No,’ Enid replied coolly. ‘As I said, I’m having coffee with my sister. But she did say that she wanted to come back here and speak with you after.’

  ‘Fine,’ Elijah snapped, then relented—after all, none of this was her fault. ‘Tony can drive you,’ he offered, though privately he was glad of the excuse to be alone—really alone—with his grief. ‘Feel free to tell her I’m not giving up on Guido.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’ Enid’s face softened. ‘But it would be easier with Ainslie.’

  ‘It would …’ Elijah conceded. ‘And a whole lot nicer too—but we’ll be okay …’ He ruffled Guido’s hair. ‘The two of us will make it work.’

  Enid took Guido off to get him ready, which left Elijah alone with his thoughts—and for the hundredth time he berated himself for his haste to accuse rather than to listen. Maybe she’d just gone to say goodbye to Angus? Elijah wondered hopelessly as he logged onto his computer. One final time together for old times’ sake? Hell, he’d done that on many occasions himself—why shouldn’t the same rules apply to her?

  They just didn’t.

  And they didn’t apply to him any more either.

  Picking up the little black box by the computer, he opened it, stared at the mocking ring.

  He’d being going to ask her.

  Properly.

  Ahead of the Social Services decision. Because that had seemed important somehow.

  On his flight home Elijah had realised that though the decision was vital to him, to them it didn’t actually matter. He needed her for so much more than Guido.

  Needed that loyal, feisty, funny, beautiful woman in every aspect of his life.

  A woman who could even make him smile now, when he tracked her manic spending.

  In the hours she’d been gone she’d done pretty well, but his smile faded when he realised that she must have checked out.

  Som
ewhere deep inside he’d known that she would.

  He was scanning the entries now—for a sum so little it shouldn’t matter. The fact it wasn’t there actually mattered a lot, brought tears to dry eyes. He realised she’d paid for his Christmas present herself. But again, somewhere deep inside he’d already known that she had.

  But men couldn’t be seen crying.

  Especially when Enid informed him that she was on her way out and that his nemesis was at the front door.

  ‘Should I show Dr Maitlin in?’

  ‘No—I’ll see him at the door.’

  ‘It’s not doing much good there …’ For the first time Enid interfered, glancing down to the ring he was holding. ‘Sitting in a box when it should be on her finger.’

  ‘I’ll tell her that, shall I?’ Elijah’s sarcasm didn’t faze Enid. ‘When I see her next?’

  ‘Happen you should!’

  Clearing his throat, Elijah stood, unclenched his fists, and vowed to himself that he wouldn’t hit him, would only open the door. It was a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.

  ‘Is Ainslie in?’

  It took a supreme effort to tell him where she was staying—but the barb on his tongue still needed an out.

  ‘You’d better hurry, though—it would seem she just checked out—or checked in with the next rich fool to come along.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Angus frowned. ‘I was asking after Ainslie. I just wanted to clear something up.’

  ‘Well, she’s gone.’

  ‘Fine …’ Angus turned to go, and then changed his mind. ‘If she does get in touch, would you ask her to call me?’

  Elijah’s fists balled at his sides. New Year’s resolutions were fading fast and he was sorely tempted to knock his lights out.

  ‘Only I think I owe her an apology.’

  ‘Aspetta! Wait!’ Elijah instructed, watching Angus’s shoulders stiffen. Clearly he was a man not used to being told! ‘Look …’ Elijah closed his eyes and struggled to keep his voice even, because even if he might not like what he was about to hear he badly needed to hear it. ‘Would you mind coming inside? Would you mind explaining what is going on with you and Ainslie?’