The Italian's Runaway Bride

by Jacqueline Baird

  Yes, yes, it had, Kelly amended and, straightening up, she lifted the kettle and poured the water into the cup. She had changed…she was a much stronger woman; bringing a child up on her own had taught her a lot. She lifted the cup of black coffee to her lips with a slightly trembling hand, and after the first mouthful she felt marginally better. At least she had wiped the taste of Gianfranco from her mouth. If only she could wipe him from her life so easily, she thought bitterly.

  ‘Good idea. Make one for me,’ Gianfranco commanded.

  Kelly spun around at the sound of his voice, about to tell him to make it himself, but caution stopped her. She had a much bigger argument to win than who should make the coffee. He was sitting on one of the three seats at the small breakfast table, his dark head turned towards her, his hooded gaze completely unreadable.

  She cleared her suddenly dry throat. ‘Black with one sugar, is it?’

  Gianfranco raised an eyebrow. ‘You remembered.’

  ‘Some things are hard to forget,’ she muttered, turning back to the bench and taking another cup from the shelf. And she wasn’t talking about the coffee. One look at him looking so cool and composed, while she was still reeling from the shock of having just made love—No, not love, sex—annoyed her immensely.

  ‘Yes, it is gratifying to know I can still make you burn, and cry out my name,’ he emphasised in his deep, husky drawl. ‘It makes the future so much easier; a celibate marriage never appealed to me.’

  Kelly realised in stricken apprehension that Gianfranco had read her mind. She could not speak; her tongue was glued to the dry roof of her mouth as she fought to remain calm. She poured water into the cup with her heart hammering in her chest. No way was she resuming married life with Gianfranco, as his words implied.

  ‘From what I have seen, Annalou seems to be a happy, well-balanced little girl.’

  Kelly inwardly sighed with relief at the change of subject, but her relief was short-lived. She turned to look at him, and the gleam of mocking triumph in his black eyes sent a shiver down her spine. ‘Yes, she is,’ Kelly said curtly, and moved to place the cup of coffee on the table in front of him. ‘And she is very happy here. She has lots of friends.’ If she could convince him to give her a divorce, Kelly thought, nervously chewing her lip, she wouldn’t mind his having some custody rights.

  ‘This place looks like a holiday home. I understand you now own it.’ He lifted the cup to his mouth and swallowed the hot coffee, then he added smoothly, ‘I suppose Annalou can still spend the odd holiday here and keep in touch with her friends.’

  ‘Odd holiday!’ Kelly exclaimed. ‘We live here.’

  ‘Not any more—we are leaving for Italy in the morning.’

  It was no more than she had expected from the moment she had set eyes on him on the beach, but it was still a terrible shock. Kelly staggered back to lean against the kitchen bench, not trusting her legs to support her. ‘No, Annalou and I are staying here.’ She had to stay in control, be convincing, but she was trembling inside. ‘But I am prepared to be reasonable. You and I can get a quickie divorce, and we can share custody. You can visit whenever you like.’

  ‘Have you finished?’ he demanded with eyes as cold as the Arctic wastes, and for a moment her mind went blank. ‘Good. Because I am taking my daughter back to Italy. Any visiting to be done will be at my discretion.’

  ‘You can’t do that. I won’t let you.’ Kelly burst into speech, trying to sound firm, but nothing could disguise the slight tremor in her voice. The full enormity of what he had said hit her like a punch to the stomach. She felt sick with fear, and she knew she was fighting for her daughter’s well-being, never mind her own. ‘There is no way I will allow Annalou anywhere near Olivia without me.’

  ‘So, come with her.’

  ‘No.’ She instinctively denied the possibility. ‘And you can’t take Annalou without my permission.’ She said it, but didn’t really believe it. She knew very well that Gianfranco was a man who got exactly what he wanted. Kelly doubted anyone had thwarted him in his life except herself. If she was honest she was slightly amazed she had got away from him for so long. It was there in the proud tilt of his head, the dark, mocking eyes watching her like an insect under the microscope.

  ‘With you in jail I will have no problem.’

  ‘Jail!’ What on earth was he talking about?

  Gianfranco set his cup down and the clash when it hit the saucer indicated he was nowhere near as calm as he appeared. He stood up, his mouth curving in a cruel smile. ‘I had Kelly Hope checked out the minute I read the letter. A man was waiting at Exeter Airport when I arrived today with the details. You are a respected widow with a child, who for the past three years has been working for an Ellen Jones who owns a gym. Correct?’

  At the mention of her job, Kelly suddenly saw where he was leading. ‘My private life, where I work, is no concern of yours,’ she snapped back.

  ‘Perhaps not, but I wonder what the Inland Revenue will make of you working—the black economy, I believe is the British term for it, or cash in hand?’ He chuckled without humour. ‘Tax evasion is a serious offence, punishable by a term of imprisonment in some cases.’

  Stunned, Kelly could only stare at him. He met her gaze with sardonic challenge as he continued. ‘I would not worry too much—it would be your first offence.’ He gave a very Latin shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘Of course, poor Ellen Jones will also be in trouble. Then there is the kindly doctor, a friend of Tom’s, who, without any formal identification from you, has privately taken care of your health, immunised my daughter. He also will suffer.’

  Kelly jerked upright and took a step towards him, rigid with fury, her eyes flashing blue flames. ‘You are despicable!’ she cried. ‘You would hurt innocent people, my friends, just to get back at me?’ She shook her head in utter disbelief. Jail was no idle threat.

  ‘I don’t have to,’ he injected as she stared at him in outrage and shock. ‘It is your decision, Kelly. You can come with Annalou and me to Italy, or stay here and face the consequences.’ He looked at her with triumphant amusement in the black depths of his eyes. ‘Either way, I get my daughter.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT HAD been no choice at all, Kelly thought, staring down at her sleeping daughter for a long moment before lifting her head and eyeing the huge painted spider still on the wall with distaste.

  Even if she’d faced up to the Inland Revenue, though she had done wrong, she doubted she would have ended up in jail. She had never earned enough money to pay tax anyway. At least that was what Tom had told her. But it would have meant betraying Ellen and probably the doctor. The deciding factor, the one thing Kelly had not been able to countenance, had been to allow Annalou to visit Italy without her, and be subject to Olivia’s poisonous presence.

  Kelly turned quickly as Gianfranco’s voice broke into her musings.

  ‘She is a beautiful child.’ He was standing at the opposite side of the bed, his huge body stooped to press a kiss on Annalou’s cheek, and the sheer size and strength of him, along with his state of undress, sent her pulse-rate rocketing.

  He was wearing a navy-blue towelling robe, loosely belted at the waist and ending mid-thigh, his toned olive skin and mat of black body hair exposed between the low lapels of the garment. Kelly flushed at where her thoughts were leading and looked away, tension in every line of her slim body.

  Despising her weakness at reacting so instantly to his unexpected appearance, she was curt in her response. ‘Yes, she is, and I want her to stay that way, without any influence from your sister-in-law.’ She masked her frustration and fear by prompting coldly, ‘I suppose Olivia will be joining us for dinner?’

  They had arrived at the Casa Maldini at four. Much to Kelly’s surprise, her mother-in-law, Carmela, had welcomed her with open arms, and apologised for not being more of a friend to her the last time she had lived at the house. And Anna was still here, engaged and getting married in August.

  Annalou had loved

the house immediately, unlike her mother not in the least intimidated by the vast building and the servants. By the time Kelly, with the help of Anna, had put the little girl to bed, Annalou in her usual determined fashion had secured a promise she could be a bridesmaid at the wedding. The only person Kelly had not seen yet was Olivia.

  Strolling around the bottom of the bed, Gianfranco stopped beside Kelly and glanced down at her with dark, enigmatic eyes. ‘Olivia will not be joining us for dinner, or any other meal. She does not live here any more.’

  ‘What? But you said last night—’ And she stopped. He had neither confirmed nor denied Olivia’s presence; he had simply said, ‘So, come with her.’ Kelly searched his face but she could read nothing from his bland expression. ‘You let me think…’

  One dark brow arched sardonically. ‘What you wanted to think, cara.’ He drawled the endearment. ‘I wanted my wife and daughter back in my home, and I used any and every means at my disposal. In my book marriage is for life. Remember that and we will get along fine.’

  ‘Olivia left? When?’ Kelly still had trouble believing it, though she had no trouble believing the rest of her indomitable husband’s statement. He was a ruthless devil when it came to getting his own way.

  ‘A few weeks after you. She is now married to a banker and living in Switzerland.’

  Was he broken-hearted at losing Olivia? Lowering her head to hide her astonishment at his revelation, she surreptitiously glanced up at him from beneath the screen of thick lashes. He didn’t look it. In fact, Kelly suddenly noted that his dark eyes were blatantly roaming over her slender body in studied masculine appraisal. She had already bathed and dressed for dinner in a violet satin slip dress with spaghetti straps supporting the bodice, and to her shame she felt her breasts harden against the soft fabric in tingling arousal. She dropped her gaze, but that was worse. Last night he had taken her without even removing his clothes, but tonight, with his robe gaping open, she realised she had never seen so much prime male naked flesh in three long years…which did nothing for her temperature, or her temper.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, go and put some clothes on!’ she exclaimed, brushing past him and heading for the door. ‘Dinner is at nine.’ Damn! She sounded like his mother, and his husky chuckle did nothing to calm her quivering nerves.

  Kelly barely touched the food, even though she had hardly eaten anything all day. She’d phoned Ellen to ask her to keep an eye on the house. Then they’d flown from Exeter by private plane to Verona, and the final leg had been the car journey to the Casa Maldini. Everything had happened so fast, she couldn’t think straight; she felt positively light-headed.

  A brief glance at Gianfranco seated at the head of the table and Kelly turned an apologetic smile to Carmela and stood up. ‘It has been a long day, and I am rather tired, so if you will excuse me I think I will go to bed.’

  ‘Of course,’ Carmela responded, ‘I understand.’

  ‘You have had a traumatic week. You need a rest,’ Gianfranco said smoothly. ‘Sleep well.’

  He’d got that right, she thought as she stifled a yawn. Tom’s death, the funeral five days later, and Gianfranco the next day—it suddenly hit her she had barely slept or eaten for a week. The fact Gianfranco had recognised it was surprising; he wasn’t known for his sensitivity.

  ‘Goodnight,’ she said firmly, but she could not meet his dark watchful eyes, and she speedily crossed the room with more haste than grace.

  Kelly glanced around the bedroom, it was the same room she had occupied before, and Anna had laid her cotton nightie out on the massive four-poster bed. She wondered if Gianfranco still occupied the bedroom next door, and immediately dismissed the thought. Contemplating Gianfranco in bed, any bed, did nothing for her peace of mind.

  Picking up her nightie, she walked into the adjoining bathroom. In minutes she had had a shower, and, after drying herself quickly with a large bath towel, she slipped the nightie over her head. A brief glance in the mirror and she grimaced. The white nightie was a simple mass of gathered cotton falling from a round neckline to her feet—with her hair brushed loose and her face free of make-up, the only point of colour was the purple rings under her eyes. She looked like a ghost.

  Shrugging her shoulders, Kelly returned to the bedroom, and then on to the nursery. She stood for a few minutes staring down at her sleeping daughter, and then made a silent prayer that Annalou would be happy here. For herself she didn’t care. Annalou was everything.

  Had she done the right thing? A resigned sigh escaped her. Deep in her heart Kelly knew she had never really had a choice. Gianfranco turning up yesterday had only precipitated matters, as if she was honest Kelly had already decided to get in touch with Gianfranco after Annalou had asked about her father at Easter. Tom’s illness and the need to look after him had given her an excuse to delay, but with Tom’s death she’d had no more excuses. Which was probably why she imagined she had conjured Gianfranco up yesterday on the beach, she thought wryly.

  Sighing, she touched a finger to her daughter’s cheek. Had she jumped to conclusions three years ago, as Gianfranco had said? If not, did it matter that Gianfranco had loved Olivia? Olivia was no longer in the equation.

  For years she’d tried not to think about her husband because it had hurt too much, but now she faced the facts. Last night had taught her she was still as deeply attracted to him as ever. Only now she did not call it love. She was older and wiser, and for the first time since meeting Gianfranco again Kelly considered the possibility of trying to make the marriage work.

  She didn’t trust him, but then again he didn’t trust her, so they were equal on that score. But they did have a child together, and she did not doubt his love for Annalou; in the short twenty-four hours the bond between father and daughter was obvious for all to see. If Kelly wanted to keep her daughter and give her the happy home life she deserved—and she did—then maybe the best way of achieving that was to reconcile with Gianfranco. Quietly closing the door behind her, Kelly walked back to the bedroom. She was too bone-deep tired to make a decision now, and, crawling into bed, she curled up in a foetal position, yawned widely and within seconds exhaustion claimed her.

  Kelly’s lashes fluttered against her cheeks and her head fell onto the pillow, the supporting warmth removed. She frowned; she could hear voices and instinctively curled her legs across smooth flesh, unwilling to wake up yet. She snuggled deeper, against a hard male thigh—aroused male! Her eyes flew open and she jerked up. ‘What the hell!’ she exclaimed, her head spinning: the other side of the bed was occupied.

  ‘Buongiorno, signora.’ Anna was in the process of placing a tray with coffee and two cups on the bedside table.

  Gianfranco was in her bed, lounging back against the pillows, looking incredibly sexy and, if Kelly wasn’t mistaken, stark naked. She tore her eyes away from Gianfranco and back to Anna, and quickly moved to the edge of the bed. ‘Thank you for the coffee, but where is Annalou?’ she demanded.

  ‘Run along, Anna,’ Gianfranco instructed. ‘I will explain.’

  He had a hell of a lot of explaining to do. Like why was he in her bed? Kelly thought furiously, her blue eyes flashing back to his.

  ‘Relax. I am informed our daughter is washed and dressed, and at this moment in the kitchen having breakfast. She’s apparently completely besotted with the household cat,’ he drawled. His deep voice, husky with sleep, was like a caress across her skin, and his slumbrous dark eyes were holding her own.

  Her whole body flushed with heat, she swallowed convulsively, and tore her eyes away from his as she recalled the feel of his hard thighs only moments ago. Dynamic and all male, he projected a raw virility that was almost frightening in its intensity. Her gaze lingered over the black hair on his broad chest angling down to where the fine sheet covered his thighs. Surely he had not looked so good years ago.

  She gulped and said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Why did Anna bring your coffee—it always used to be Aldo?’

  A cynical smile quirked the corners of his firm lips. ‘It occurred to me I was perhaps a little insensitive three years ago when you were a new bride, and sharing a bed with a man for the first time, to have another man wake you up in the morning. I was used to Aldo but I remember you used to blush and huddle under the bedclothes.’

  ‘You’re right, I did.’ For a moment she was touched that he had recognised her embarrassment, even if it was three years too late.

  ‘Of course it hardly matters now,’ Gianfranco drawled, reclining back against the pillows. ‘But I had already arranged it before I left for England and discovered the life you had been leading.’

  Kelly recognised the sarcasm, and any softening she had felt towards him vanished in a puff of smoke. ‘It was a hell of a lot better than the one I had here,’ she gibed, and slid off the bed before turning to challenge him. ‘And now perhaps you can explain what you think you are doing in my bed.’

  ‘Our bed, Kelly.’

  ‘That’s rich coming from you. You couldn’t get out of it fast enough when we were married,’ she shot back with some sarcasm of her own. It still rankled, even after three years.

  ‘As I recall, you never objected—the safety of our unborn baby was your top priority.’ He looked at her quizzically, as if she had just given him the answer he had been looking for. ‘I did not know you cared.’

  ‘I didn’t.’ She shook her head, her long hair flying around her shoulders in tumbling disarray. ‘I don’t.’ He was far too astute and she was mortified at what she had almost given away. ‘I’ll pour the coffee before it gets cold,’ she mumbled, and made a production of filling the two cups while fighting to regain her self-control. Taking a deep breath, Kelly turned back to face him and held out the cup and saucer.

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