by Anne Mather
Carys frowned as Alessandro scooped Leo from her arms.
‘I can settle him.’
Broad shoulders shrugged. ‘We pay Anna to help with Leo. Let her do this while you finish reading. See? Leo’s happy.’
He was right. Leo was calling out to Anna as she entered the room. There was no logical reason for Carys to insist on settling Leo herself. To do so would only arouse Alessandro’s curiosity. Besides, as soon as Leo left, so would Alessandro. No doubt he’d taken enough time away from his work.
‘OK,’ Carys said at last, smiling to Anna and waving to Leo. Her heart swelled when Leo blew her a smacking kiss as he was carried from the room.
Her son was so happy here. She had done the right thing.
Carys eased back in her seat and picked up her newspaper. It was only as she rested her head on the lounge that she realised Alessandro hadn’t moved. He stood a few metres away, watching her.
Heat crawled up her throat and across her breasts. She realised her robe was wide open where she’d snuggled Leo and quickly closed it, knotting the belt tightly. There was something too unsettling about Alessandro’s regard.
Instead of leaving, he took the lounge beside hers. Yet he didn’t lean back to face the pool, and beyond it the manicured garden and lake. He sat sideways, facing her.
Too close! Far too close!
Those shivery little tremors inside Carys intensified, as did the hollow sensation in the region of her pelvis. He only had to look at her and desire consumed her. The realisation made a mockery of her hard-won self-control.
She searched for something to break the silence that felt too weighty for comfort.
‘I haven’t seen much of Livia since the wedding.’ Carys could have kicked herself as soon as the words were out, for the last thing she wanted was to talk about her mother-in-law, or suggest she wanted to see more of her.
The relationship between Carys and Livia was polite and stiffly cordial, no more. Carys saw no point in confronting her about her lie that Alessandro had intended to marry Carlotta, but nor could she forget the way the older woman had deliberately misled her.
Alessandro’s brows rose. ‘Livia has been…busy lately.’
Carys paused, digesting the curious inflection in his tone. It sounded almost like disapproval. Alessandro and his stepmother weren’t particularly close, but they had always seemed to get on.
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ This time there was no mistaking the spark of anger in Alessandro’s eyes or the firming of his jaw. Had there been a falling out between him and Livia? Had he finally grown tired of her snobby, manipulative ways? It was too much to hope for. ‘She has commitments elsewhere.’
Carys would have to be blind and deaf not to notice the warning in his tone, but she refused to back off. She knew to her cost just how much damage Livia could do. She needed to understand what was happening.
‘You said she’d come to advise me on how to play the role of contessa.’ Carys was proud of the way she kept the bitterness from her voice. Of course she needed to learn, but the implication that she was so way below standard still hurt.
His gaze narrowed and he sat straighter, shoulders seeming to broaden before her eyes. ‘You’re not playing a role, Carys. You are the Contessa Mattani. Remember that.’
‘Oh, I’m hardly likely to forget.’ Surrounded by luxury acquired by the Mattani family over generations, Carys felt like an intruder, an impostor. She still couldn’t get used to having servants at her beck and call.
Sometimes as she walked past the family portraits in the upstairs gallery, she felt the accusing eyes of long dead Mattanis, as if they wondered how someone as ordinary as she came to be in their home.
Carys shook her head. She had to get out of this place. She was going stir crazy.
She hadn’t ventured out of the grounds in the weeks since the wedding, too busy ensuring Leo settled in to his new home. And with the memory of paparazzi surrounding the church on her wedding day, too nervous to face the press on her own. Alessandro hadn’t offered to take her out, but nor had she expected him to. She had no illusions about her place in his life.
‘Don’t worry, Livia will perform the responsibilities of the Contessa Mattani until you’re ready to take over.’ The steel in his eyes made her wonder if she’d have to pass some test to convince him she was ready. Obviously he doubted her ability to make the grade. ‘But I think it better if someone more compatible and…reliable is your mentor in the meantime.’
Reliable? It sounded as if dear Livia had blotted her copy book. Carys was human enough to feel a surge of satisfaction at the thought of the woman’s schemes coming undone just a little.
‘Who did you have in mind?’ For one electrifying moment she thought he was going to take on the role himself.
Then common sense returned. Even as his wife she wouldn’t merit that much claim on Alessandro’s time.
‘I thought perhaps Carlotta.’ He sat back, watching her reaction.
‘Carlotta?’ Carys felt relief sweep her. ‘I’d like that.’ After the initial stiffness they’d got on well. Carys was attracted to the other woman’s honesty and dry wit. She’d enjoy spending time with the princess. ‘As long as that’s OK with her,’ she added diffidently.
‘I’m sure it will be. She’s already mentioned the idea of coming to see you.’
Carys frowned. ‘But I haven’t heard from her.’
Alessandro leaned forward a fraction, elbows on thighs and hands between his knees. ‘No doubt she was allowing the newlywed couple time alone before making social calls.’
Carys looked dumbfounded at his words. As if the idea of a honeymoon period was a foreign concept.
Alessandro felt frustration rise again. No matter how hot and heavy their lovemaking, afterwards Carys somehow managed to put a distance between them. Just as she’d done since he’d arrived at the pool today.
Of course he didn’t want her hanging on his sleeve, pretending to dote on him, but the perpetual distance between them whenever they were out of the bedroom annoyed him.
He wanted…
He didn’t know quite what he wanted. But it was definitely not a wife who treated him like a polite stranger unless he was naked and inside her. Then she responded with all the enthusiasm he could wish for.
Fire ignited in his groin and spread, tightening thighs and buttocks, curling fingers into fists and drawing the tendons in his back and neck unbearably taut.
Just thinking about sex with Carys made him hard. While she sat there, cool as a cucumber, quizzing him about Livia!
He’d thought marriage would bring respite from the surge of hormones that made him crave Carys like a fire in his blood. Yet the more he had her, the more he wanted her. And not just in bed.
Even watching her pull her robe open to nestle their son against her breast as she dried him made Alessandro rigid with desire.
What did that say about him?
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, trying to ease the escalating tension there.
She didn’t even dress provocatively to entice him. Despite the massive injection of funds to her new bank account, she still wore the simple, cheap clothes she’d brought with her.
There were no designer gowns or expensive shoes. No new handbags or hairstyles. Not even sexy new lingerie. Each night he found himself discarding her plain cotton night shirts. She didn’t even bother to acquire a skerrick of lace or silk to entice her husband.
And somehow he still found her more alluring than any silkclad siren of his memory.
Swaddled in thick towelling, her hair drying around her shoulders, and her face washed clean of make-up, Carys made his heart thud faster and his libido claw for release.
He told himself he’d come home to spend time with Leo, and he had enjoyed his son’s company. Young Leo had an energy and an enquiring mind as well as an open, loving disposition that made him a pleasure to be with. Yet Alessandro had been distracted time and again by the enigmatic wo
man at the poolside. She’d been so engrossed in her reading it was clear her husband didn’t hold her interest.
He didn’t understand her.
‘You haven’t been away from the house,’ he found himself saying.
She angled her chin a fraction, in that unconscious gesture of defiance he found ridiculously appealing.
‘I didn’t want to brave the press. I’m not used to that sort of attention.’
Guilt punched him. Why hadn’t he thought of that? He’d been so busy adjusting to his ready-made family while trying to maintain his usual constant work schedule, it hadn’t occurred to him.
‘I’ll arrange for a quick photo opportunity in the next few days. We’ll give them a chance to snap shots of the happy couple.’ He paused on the thought of how inappropriate the phrase seemed. ‘Then the pressure will ease. Tell the staff when you want to go out and security will be arranged. You need have no fear. You’ll be well taken care of.’
‘Thank you.’
Again she avoided eye contact. Frustration returned. He felt an unfamiliar desire to provoke a reaction, any reaction from her. He refused to be ignored.
‘The staff can tell you the best places to shop. No doubt that’s high on your agenda.’ After all, she now had a substantial fortune to spend.
Cool grey eyes met his as she frowned. ‘Why would I need to shop? Do you mean for an outfit to wear for this press session?’ She shook her head. ‘There’s no need. Carlotta already had two extra outfits made for me, a suit and a dress. I’m sure one of them will do. They’re both lovely.’
Alessandro waved a dismissive hand. ‘No doubt whatever Carlotta provided will be suitable. But you’ll want to start enjoying your money and buy a new wardrobe.’ On his instructions one of his secretaries had already provided her with a card linked to her new bank account.
Carys sat back in her seat, her brow clearing. ‘There’s no need. I’ve got plenty to last me till the cooler weather comes. Then I’ll have to invest in a new winter coat.’
‘A new winter coat?’ His voice trailed off. Winter was months away. Summer was just starting. Who did she think she was fooling? ‘With all that money at your disposal you expect me to believe you have no interest in spending it?’
‘I know you’re providing money for expenses, but—’
‘Money for expenses!’ This woman was something else. She reduced her new-found wealth to the status of grocery funds. ‘It’s far more than that, Carys. Remember, I know exactly how much since I’m paying it.’
‘There’s no need to sound so accusing.’ A flash of fire in her eyes sent shards of ice-hot need splintering through him. That only intensified his anger.
‘And there’s no need to pretend your outrageously lavish allowance is a mere pittance.’ The games women played!
Carys stiffened, looking more like an ice queen than the ordinary working girl he’d plucked from drudgery. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Alessandro shot to his feet, trying to work off his anger at her games by pacing the length of the pool and back. This pretence was the sort of thing he abhorred. Next she’d be complaining the funds he provided weren’t enough.
‘Of course you know. You read the prenup in such detail you must have checked every word twice. You have enough money in your personal account now to keep you in Gucci, Versace and Yves Saint Laurent every day of the year.’
Clouds must have passed over the sun, giving the illusion she’d paled.
Then, as he approached, Alessandro saw the way her hands gripped the arms of her chair, the stiffness in her small frame as she sat up. And in her eyes, what looked like shock.
‘You’re kidding.’ Even her voice sounded different. Light and breathless. ‘Why would you do that?’
He shrugged, refusing to put into words the suspicion that without such a financial incentive, she might one day walk out on Leo. And him.
‘You need to dress as befits my wife.’ Even to his own ears it sounded unconvincing. ‘But you know all about it. You signed the agreement before we married. That set it all out.’
The sight of her gaze sliding guiltily from his, the way her hands tightened even more till they resembled talons clawing at the padded chair arms, brought him up short.
Instinct honed over years of business dealings told him something was wrong. Something important. The hairs at his neck rose and he stilled.
‘Yes. Yes, I signed it.’
Alessandro’s gaze strayed from her mouth, distorted as she bit hard into her bottom lip, to her knees, now pressed up to her chest. She looked so vulnerable. What on earth?
Eventually he followed the direction of her stare, to her folded newspaper and glasses. It was a prestigious Englishlanguage paper, open at the international news. He recognised the large picture of the United Nations Secretary General in one corner.
The same page she’d been reading over half an hour ago when he’d arrived.
‘Carys?’ He took a step closer till she turned to face him. Her expression was closed, rigid with something that looked like fear.
‘What is it?’ He glanced again at the newspaper. It was impossible that, even with the noise in the pool distracting her, it could take so long to read a single page.
Then he remembered the way Carys had hesitated over some passport control forms as they’d travelled.
‘You did read the prenup,’ he said to himself as much as her. ‘I saw you.’ He watched her swallow, almost wincing as the motion looked so difficult.
‘I…started to.’ Still she didn’t face him. ‘But in the end I decided it was just saying I’d get nothing of yours if we divorced.’ She lifted her shoulders in a jerky shrug. ‘So I signed. I didn’t know anything about a big allowance.’
‘Liar,’ he whispered. ‘I saw you. You were reading the last page just before you signed.’
Her head whipped around and he saw high colour flag her cheeks. Yet her face was chalky pale.
An appalling notion smote him. An unbelievable one.
‘You can read, can’t you?’
Had she been sitting there all this time, pretending to examine an article that made no sense? His stomach plunged heavily as an alien emotion kicked him hard.
‘Of course I can read!’ She drew herself up straighter in her chair, eyes brilliant with fury. ‘How do you think I did my job if I couldn’t read? Just because I…’
‘Just because you…?’ Alessandro stepped forward to stand before her, hands planted akimbo.
He watched her wrap her hands around her bare legs, rocking forward in the age-old motion of someone seeking comfort.
‘I didn’t read your precious papers.’ She almost spat the words at him, they came out so fast. ‘I began to but I was exhausted and stressed and…’ She paused so long he thought she wouldn’t continue. ‘And I have dyslexia,’ she said on a surge of breath. ‘That’s why I wear tinted glasses; they help me focus. But sometimes, especially when I’m tired or when the text is a solid mass, it’s almost impossible to read, because whole lines keep disappearing and the words turn into a jumble. Legal papers are the worst.’
Silence. A silence ringing with the echo of her defiant tones.
Alessandro’s heart twisted in his chest as he saw what it had cost her to share the truth. He wanted to reach out and soothe the hurt so evident in her drawn features, but guessed his touch wouldn’t be welcome.
Her lips trembled into a heart-wrenching parody of a smile. ‘It’s not something I tell many people about.’
‘But you told me, didn’t you? When we were together before?’ He knew it, sensed it, even though he didn’t remember.
‘I…Yes. You knew. Of course you did.’
Of course he did.
They’d been that close, sharing secrets as well as passion. Once again Alessandro had that sickening sense of taking a step straight into a yawning abyss. His damned memory loss had robbed him of so much. Robbed them both.
He took a deep breath
, trying to make sense of what Carys had revealed.
‘But you’re reading the international news page.’ In a paper renowned for in-depth, incisive journalism. It was no lightweight read.
Carys moved so swiftly, surging to her feet, that he stepped back a pace. Her eyes glittered blue fire as her gaze clashed with his.
‘Just because I’m a slow reader doesn’t mean I’m thick! You understood that before.’ She paused, as if grappling for control over her hurt and disappointment.
Why couldn’t he have remembered this one thing at least about her?
‘I read the international news because I’m interested, even if it takes me longer than some people. Some days, like today, it’s just slower than others, OK?’
‘OK.’ Alessandro watched the fire dim in her eyes as she wrapped her arms tight round her torso again.
Guilt carved a hole inside Alessandro’s chest as he remembered how he’d all but forced her to sign the prenup on the spot. He’d already guessed she was exhausted and wrung out from stress. He’d had no compunction about seizing on her weakness and stampeding through her objections to get what he wanted, just as he would in any business deal.
But this wasn’t business. It wasn’t nearly so simple.
‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, watching her rub her arms as if from cold. Clearly her dyslexia was an emotional issue. She was so defensive. ‘I didn’t mean to imply—’
‘That I’m dumb?’ Her lips curved up in a smile that held pain rather than humour.
‘Of course not. No one would.’ He didn’t have any personal experience of the condition, but even he knew that.
Her laugh was hollow. ‘You think not?’
‘Carys?’ Her distressed expression was too much. He reached out and took her by the shoulders. ‘Talk to me,’ he commanded as he massaged her stiff muscles, trying to ease their rigidity. Her pain made him feel uncomfortable…edgy…protective.
Again that bleak smile. ‘Everyone thought I was slow-witted because I couldn’t read well. Everyone. I was always bottom of the class. Even when I reached high school and a teacher suspected what was wrong, it was easier for people to think I was just slow.’