The Tuscan Tycoon’s Wife

by Lucy Gordon

  ‘Oh, no!’ Leo breathed. ‘Not the highway.’

  In a frighteningly short space of time the traffic was in sight again. Appalled at what he could imagine happening, Leo put on a burst of speed, commanding his long legs to do their stuff. They obliged and he just made it, seizing the bridle with two yards to spare.

  Elliot eyed him warily, but with Leo’s first soothing words something seemed to come over him. He’d never heard the words before, for they were Italian, but Leo had the voice of a man who loved horses, speaking a universal language of affection. Elliot’s shivering abated and he stood still, nervous and confused, but willing to trust.

  Selena noticed all this subconsciously while she covered the last few yards, and the easy conquering of her beloved Elliot did nothing to improve her temper. Nor did the expert way this man was examining the animal’s fetlocks, running gentle hands over them and finally saying, ‘I don’t think it’s more serious than a slight strain, but a vet will confirm it.’

  A vet’s bill, when she was already scraping the bottom of her financial barrel. Lest he suspect that she was verging on despair she turned away, brushing a hand fiercely across her eyes. When she turned back anger and accusation were in place like a visor.

  ‘More than a slight strain,’ she echoed bitterly. ‘There needn’t have been any strain if you hadn’t braked so suddenly.’

  ‘Excuse me, I didn’t do anything because I wasn’t driving,’ Leo said, breathing hard after his exertions. ‘That was my friend, and it wasn’t his fault either. Try blaming the guy who slowed in front of us. Not that you can do that because he’s long gone, but if there’s any fairness in the world-hell, what would you know about fairness?’

  ‘I know about my injured horse and my damaged van. I know they got that way because I had to slam on my brakes at the last minute-’

  ‘Ah, yes, your brakes. I’d be very interested to see your brakes. I’ll bet they’d really prove interesting.’

  ‘So now you’re trying to put the blame on me!’

  ‘I’m just-’

  ‘That’s the oldest scam in the book and you should be ashamed to try it.’

  ‘I-’

  ‘I know your sort. You think “woman alone”, must be helpless. Let’s try it on, see if she scares easy.’

  ‘It never crossed my mind that you scared easy,’ Leo retorted with perfect truth. ‘As for helpless, I’ve seen man-eating tigers who were more helpless.’

  Barton had crossed the road and caught up with them.

  ‘Hold on a minute, Leo-’

  Leo was normally the most easygoing of men, but he had a Latin temper that could flare impressively when it got going. It was going now.

  ‘We’re here aren’t we? So blame us. We’re just convenient scapegoats and-and-’ As always when his English failed him he fell back on his native language and for the next minute words poured out of him in an unstoppable stream.

  ‘Darn it, Leo!’ Barton roared at last. ‘Will you stop being so excitable and-and Italian?’

  ‘I just wanted to say what I feel,’ Leo said.

  ‘Well, you did that. So why don’t we all calm down and get acquainted?’

  He turned to the young woman and introduced himself in his easygoing way.

  ‘Barton Hanworth, Four-Ten Ranch, just outside Stephenville, about five miles ahead.’

  ‘Selena Gates. On my way to Stephenville.’

  ‘Fine. We can get your-er-vehicle seen to when we’re there, and a vet for your horse.’

  Selena tore her hair. ‘But how are we going to get there? Fly?’

  ‘Nope. I just made a call and help is on its way now. While we’re waiting for things to get sorted out you’ll stay with us a day or so.’

  ‘I will?’

  ‘Where else?’ he asked genially. ‘If I landed you in this fix, it’s for me to get you out.’

  Selena shot a suspicious look at Leo. ‘But he says it wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘Well, I may have reacted just a little too late,’ Barton conceded, unable to meet Leo’s eye. ‘Fact is, if I’d slowed sooner-well anyway, you don’t want to take any notice of what my friend here says.’ He leaned towards her conspiratorially. ‘He’s a foreigner-talks funny.’

  ‘Thanks Barton,’ Leo grinned.

  He was still giving most of his attention to Elliot, stroking the horse’s nose and murmuring in a way that the animal seemed to find calming. Selena watched him, saying nothing, seeing everything.

  Whatever orders Barton had given must have been to the point, because in a short time things started happening. A truck appeared, drawing a slant-load gooseneck trailer, bearing the logo of the Four-Ten Ranch, and large enough for three horses.

  Gently Selena led Elliot up the ramp. He was clearly limping now.

  ‘There’ll be a vet and a doctor waiting when we get home,’ Barton said. ‘Now, you get in the car with us, and we’ll be off.’

  ‘Thanks but I’ll stay with Elliot,’ she said.

  Barton frowned. ‘It’s against the law for you to do that. Oh, what the hell?’ he retreated, seeing her stubborn expression. ‘It’s only five miles.’

  ‘I have to stay with Elliot,’ Selena explained. ‘He’ll be nervous in a new place without me. What about my van?’

  ‘Don’t you worry, that’s being attached now,’ Barton assured her.

  ‘Elliot doesn’t like going too fast,’ she said quickly.

  ‘I’ll make sure the driver knows that. Leo, you coming?’

  ‘No, I think I’ll stay here,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t need any help with Elliot,’ Selena said quickly.

  ‘It’s not Elliot I’m thinking of. You took a nasty bump on the head, and you shouldn’t be on your own.’

  ‘I’m all right.’

  Leo climbed into the trailer and stood, arms folded, looking stubborn.

  ‘We can start the journey and get Elliot to a vet, or we can stand here talking until you give in. It’s up to you.’

  He pulled the door closed as he spoke. Selena glared but didn’t argue further. She even allowed him to help her settle Elliot in one of the stalls.

  She was angry with him, without being quite sure why. She knew he hadn’t been driving, and Barton Hanworth, who had been driving, was making handsome amends. But her nerves were jangled, she’d had the fright of her life, and all her agitation seemed to be homing in on this man who had the nerve to order her about, and was now talking to her in much the same soothing voice he’d used to calm Elliot. Crime of crimes!

  ‘We’ll be there soon,’ he said. ‘You can get some proper treatment.’

  ‘I don’t need mollycoddling,’ she said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Well, I would if I’d had a crash like you did.’

  ‘I guess some of us are just tougher than others,’ she said grumpily.

  He left it there. She looked ill and he reckoned she was entitled to her bad temper. When she turned away to Elliot he watched, observing with wonder how she’d switched from bawling him out to being gentle and tender with the animal.

  He was a quarter horse, not beautiful but solid and showing signs of a hard life. From the way she rested her cheek against his nose it was clear that he was perfect in her eyes.

  At first glance she too wasn’t beautiful, except for her eyes which were large and green. Her skin had the peachy glow of health and outdoor living, and her face looked as though it might be engagingly mischievous at a better time. Also Leo’s observant eyes had noticed her movements with pleasure. She was as slim as a lathe, not elegant but tough and wiry, yet she moved with the instinctive grace of a dancer.

  He tried to see her marvellous eyes again, without being obvious about it. With eyes like that a woman didn’t need anything else. They did it all for her.

  ‘My name’s Leo Calvani,’ he said, offering his hand.

  She took it, and he immediately sensed the strength he’d guessed was there. He tightened his fingers a little, seeking to kn
ow more, but she withdrew her hand at once, having left it in his for no more than the minimum that courtesy demanded.

  They started to move, slowly as Selena had insisted. After a few minutes he realised that she was studying him with curiosity. Not erotic curiosity, as he was used to. Or romantic fascination, which also came his way satisfyingly often.

  Just curiosity. As though maybe he wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought, and she was prepared to make allowances.

  But no more than that.

  CHAPTER TWO

  T HE Four-Ten Ranch was ten thousand acres of prime land, populated by five thousand head of cattle, two hundred horses, fifty employees and a family of six.

  Selena knew she was in the presence of very serious money when she climbed stiffly out of the horse trailer and saw the stables where Barton kept his prize horse-flesh. She knew humans who lived worse.

  Everything moved like clockwork. As she walked in, leading Elliot, a man was pulling open the door of a large, comfortable stall. A vet was already there. So was a doctor, who would have drawn her aside, but Leo Calvani forestalled him with the quiet words, ‘Let her attend the horse first. She won’t settle down until she’s seen him OK.’

  She gave him a brief look of gratitude for his understanding, and watched jealously as the vet passed expert hands over Elliot and gave a diagnosis that was roughly the same as Leo’s, with a little elaboration to justify his fee. An anti-inflammatory injection, some bandaging, and it was over.

  ‘Will he be fit for the rodeo next week?’ Selena asked anxiously.

  ‘We’ll see. He’s not a young horse any more.’

  ‘How about letting the doctor look at you now?’ Leo asked her.

  She nodded and sat while the doctor examined her head. Beneath her apparent calm she was fighting despair. Her head was aching, her heart was aching and she was aching all over.

  ‘How are those animals I sold you two years back?’ Leo asked Barton. ‘Shaping up?’

  ‘Come and see for yourself.’

  Together the two men walked along the stalls, and long, intelligent faces turned to watch them go by.

  The five horses Barton had bought from Leo were in beautiful condition. They were large beasts with powerful hocks, and they’d been worked hard but treated like royalty.

  ‘I’ll swear they remember you,’ Barton said as they nuzzled Leo.

  ‘They don’t forget a sucker.’ Leo grinned.

  While admiring the horses he contrived to glance at Selena, who was having a dressing fixed to her forehead.

  ‘Take it easy for a day or two,’ the doctor was saying. ‘Plenty of rest.’

  ‘It was just a little bump,’ she insisted.

  ‘Just a little bump on your head.’

  ‘I’ll make sure she rests,’ Barton said. ‘My wife’s getting a room ready right now.’

  ‘That’s nice of her,’ Selena said awkwardly, ‘but I’d rather stay here with Elliot.’

  She indicated the piles of hay as though wondering why anyone could want more.

  ‘Well, you’ve gotta come in to eat,’ Barton exclaimed. ‘We’re just having a snack because we’ll be starting the barbecue in a couple of hours.’

  ‘You’re very kind but I can’t come in the house,’ Selena said, horribly conscious of her shabby, dishevelled appearance.

  Barton scratched his head. ‘Mrs Hanworth will be offended if you don’t.’

  ‘Then I’ll come in and say thank you.’

  She wouldn’t need to stay long, she reckoned: just enough to be polite.

  Reluctantly she followed them across to the house, which was a huge white mansion, the very sight of which made her feel awkward. She wondered how Leo would cope. In his shabby jeans and scuffed trainers he looked as out of place as she felt, although it didn’t seem to bother him.

  The sound of eager shrieks made Leo look up, and the next moment he was engulfed by the Hanworth family.

  Delia, Barton’s wife, was colourful, exuberant, and looked ten years younger than her true age. She and Barton had three children, two daughters, Carrie and Billie, younger versions of their mother, plus Jack, a studious son who seemed to live in a dream world, semi-detached from the rest of the family.

  The household was completed by Paul, or Paulie as Delia insisted on calling him. He was her son by an earlier marriage, and the apple of her eye. She spoiled him absurdly, to the groaning exasperation of everyone else.

  Paulie greeted Leo as a kindred spirit, slapping him on the back and predicting ‘great times’ together, which made Leo feel like groaning too. Paulie was in his late twenties, good-looking in a fleshy, superficial way, but self-indulgence was already blurring his features. He was a businessman in his own estimation, but his ‘business’ consisted of an internet company, his fifth, which was rapidly failing, as the other four had failed.

  Barton had bailed him out, time and again, always swearing that this time was the last, and always yielding to Delia’s entreaties for ‘just one more’.

  But just now the atmosphere was genial. Paulie, on his best behaviour, had recognised Selena.

  ‘I’ve seen you riding in the rodeo at-’ he rattled off a list of names. ‘Seen you win, too.’

  Selena relaxed, managing a smile.

  ‘I don’t win much,’ she admitted. ‘But enough to keep going.’

  ‘You’re a star,’ Paulie said, taking her hand and pumping it up and down between his two. ‘It surely is an honour to meet you.’

  If Selena felt the same she disguised it successfully. There was something about Paulie that laid a disagreeable sheen even over his attempts to flatter. She thanked him and withdrew her hand, fighting the temptation to rub it on her jeans. Paulie had a clammy palm.

  ‘Your room is ready now,’ Delia said kindly. ‘The girls will show you upstairs.’

  Carrie and Billie immediately took charge of Selena, drawing her up the huge staircase before she had time to protest. Paulie followed, impossible to shake off, and by the time they reached the best guest bedroom he’d contrived to get in front and throw open the door.

  ‘Only the best for our famous guest,’ he carolled facetiously.

  Since Selena wasn’t famous, and knew it, this only made her look at him askance. Already she could see a neon sign over Paulie’s head, reading ‘Trouble’. She was glad when Carrie eased her brother out of the room.

  She looked around her, made even more uneasy by the magnificence. The large room had been decorated in pink, mauve and white, Delia’s favourite colours. The carpet was a delicate pink that made Selena check her boots for mud. The curtains were pink and mauve brocade and the huge four-poster bed was hung with fine white net curtains. It could have slept four, she thought, testing the mattress gingerly. It was so soft and springy that she took a step back. How did anyone sleep on that without bouncing off?

  She took a tour of the room, wondering if they’d put her in the wrong place. Perhaps the Queen of England would step out of the wardrobe and say this was really her room.

  The bathroom was equally alarming, being frilly and feminine, with a tub shaped like a huge seashell. If there was one thing Selena knew she wasn’t, it was frilly and feminine. She would have preferred a shower, but the cap wasn’t quite big enough to protect the dressing on her forehead, so she ran a bath.

  When it was just right she climbed in gingerly, relishing the comfort of sinking into the hot water and feeling it soothe her bruises. She sorted her way through the profusion of soaps until she found the least heavily perfumed and began to lather herself with it. Gradually the turmoil of the day slipped away from her. Maybe there was something to be said for soft living after all. Not much, but something.

  A row of glass jars stood along a shelf just above the bath, each filled with crystals of a different colour. Curious, she took one down, unscrewed the top and gagged at the aroma, which was even more overpowering than the soap. Gasping, she hastened to replace the top, but her fingers were too slippery to grip
properly and the jar slipped straight through them, down into the water and crashed against the bath with an ominous splintering sound. The shock, coming on top of everything else, surprised a yell from her.

  Leo, settling into his own room across the hall, was undressing for a shower and had just stripped off his shirt when he heard the yell and paused. Stepping out into the corridor, he stopped again, listening. Silence. Then, from behind Selena’s door came a despairing voice.

  ‘Oh no! What am I going to do?’

  He knocked on her door. ‘Hello? Are you all right?’

  Her voice reached him faintly. ‘Not really.’

  He pushed open the door, but could see nobody inside.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘In here.’ Now he could tell that she was in the bathroom, and he approached the open door gingerly, trying not to gasp from the sweet, powerful aroma that surged out and surrounded his head like a cloud.

  ‘Is it all right for me to come in?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m stuck here forever if you don’t.’

  Moving cautiously he looked around the door to the great pink shell. Selena was in the middle of it, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him with frantic eyes.

  ‘I smashed a jar of crystals,’ she said desperately.

  He looked around. ‘Where?’

  ‘In the bath. There’s broken glass everywhere under the water, but I can’t see where it is. I daren’t move.’

  ‘OK, don’t panic.’ He found a white towel and handed it to her, averting his eyes as she reached for it.

  When she’d covered her top she said, ‘You can look. I’m decent-ish.’

  ‘Can you reach the plug?’

  ‘Not without stretching.’

  ‘Then I’ll do it. Don’t move. Just tell me where it is.’

  ‘Between my feet.’

  Gingerly he slid his fingers down the inner surface of the bath, trying to find the plug without touching her, an almost impossible task. At last he found it and managed to ease it open so that the bath could start draining.