She was grateful for a neutral subject to talk to him about, and eagerly said, 'Yes, the Byzantine mosaics are marvellous, aren't they?'
'Breathtaking,' he agreed, and opened a glossy handbook on the table between them, pointing to a photograph of the mosaic portrait of the Emperor Justinian. 'I've often seen photographs of the mosaics here, but to see them in real life gave them a whole new dimension.' ,
Leonie bent over the handbook, her pale hair falling forward until it almost touched Giles's hand. 'Did you buy that here? The one I got didn't have such terrific photos in it.'
He bent forward, too, brushing her hair back so that he could see the photograph, too. Leonie's head lifted at once, nervously. She was intensely aware of his touch. His face was only inches away; she saw the grain of his skin, his thick black lashes, his tough cheekbones, the curl of his hard mouth. It was an impressive face from a distance, but close to it was even more so. Malcolm had had charm and light-hearted good looks, but Giles Kent had a strength and unshakeable purpose, which one could read in every line of that face.
'Yes, I bought it here,' he said brusquely, his grey eyes so close that she could see every detail of them, the very pale iris, flecked at the rim with tiny yellow rays, the jet black pupil.
The shock of looking into his eyes froze her; she couldn't say a word, and they sat there staring at each other in a sort of trance, the hot Italian sun pouring down, the busy sounds of the town all around them, yet for that instant neither of them was aware of their surround-ings. Leonie didn't know what Giles was thinking, nor what she was thinking herself, but she felt the rapid, wild beat of her pulse in her throat, was deafened by the beat of it in her ears.
What on earth was wrong with her? It must be the sun, she thought, her mouth dry. It was making her dizzy.
It was Angela who broke the spell. She rushed up, crossly chattering as she came.
'Oh, there you are! I've been looking all over the place for you. Why did you vanish like that? You might have said you were going! The last I saw of you, you were with that thin boy, what's-his-name, in the cathedral. I saw him chatting you up, so I thought I'd be tactful and fade away, and then you vanished, and he was on his own. I asked him where you were, and he didn't know, and I couldn't see you anywhere. You scared the life out of me. I thought you might have got lost.'
'No, I—' Leonie began, but Angela cut her short more cheerfully.
'No, you just wandered off in a dream, as usual! I should have known. Oh, well… come on, I want to get some shopping done before we have to get on the coach.'
'OK,' Leonie said, finishing her coffee hurriedly.
Only then did Angela give the man sitting opposite Leonie a curious, half-suspicious look.
A second later she recognised him, her eyes opening wide, her jaw dropping.
'Hello,' Giles said with dry amusement.
'You… you're… aren't you… ?' stammered Angela, for once almost speechless, and Giles nodded, smiling crookedly.
'That's right. You have a good memory. I'm Giles Kent—and you're Leonie's friend, Angela, aren't you?'
'That's right,' Angela said, giving Leonie a stunned look that still managed to fizz with curiosity. What was going on here? her stare asked. What was he doing here? And why hadn't Leonie told her he was going to turn up?
Giles stood up and drew out a chair, gesturing politely. 'Sit down, have some coffee—I'll call the waiter.'
Leonie stood up in a hurry. 'No, we must go. Thank you for the coffee; enjoy the rest of your trip.'
'Enjoy the rest of your holiday,' he said, staying on his feet.
'Thanks,' she said, not quite meeting his eyes because she was suddenly very self-conscious. She slid a hand through Angela's arm and pulled her away, walking fast and not looking back.
Only when they were out of earshot did Angela demand, 'Well? What on earth is going on? What is he doing here, and how did he know you were in Ravenna?'
Halting in front of a shop window to look at some silk blouses, Leonie said, 'He didn't know. We met by sheer chance.'
'Oh, come off it!' Angela said drily. 'That is too big a coincidence.'
'It's true. He's in Italy on a sales trip and he just happened to come to Ravenna because he's always wanted to see the Byzantine remains here. I remember Malcolm saying that Giles was keen on history and was always going off sightseeing when he was abroad.' Leonie walked on, deciding the silk blouses were too expensive for her.
'I still think it's a massive coincidence that he turned up here while we were here,' Angela said. 'Maybe he was keeping an eye on you?'
Startled, Leonie did a double-take, frowning at her friend. 'Why on earth should he do that?'
'Well, you were almost his sister-in-law— maybe he feels responsible for you?'
Leonie laughed shortly. 'No chance! He doesn't even like me, and he's very glad I'm not going to be his sister-in-law, believe me!'
Angela made a face. 'A pity you aren't. You could have arranged a blind date for me and him.'
Leonie frowned, 'You must be joking!'
'I think he's very sexy,' insisted Angela.
The sun was beating on the top of Leonie's head like a gong; her ears buzzed and she began to feel strangely cold. She swayed, feeling sweat break out on her forehead, and from a long way off heard Angela exclaim, 'Leonie… You aren't going to faint, are you?'
'No,' Leonie whispered, a strange roaring in her ears, and then the next thing she knew was that she was lying on the ground with people standing all round her, staring down at her. Her bewildered eyes roamed the faces and at last found Angela.
Angela anxiously said, 'You fainted—how do you feel now? You're so pale. Are you OK? We'll get a doctor when I can manage to make someone understand what is wanted.' She looked round the circle of staring, curious Italian faces, 'A doctor? Please, a doctor? Oh, what is that in Italian? Oh, I wish I spoke the language…'
As she spoke, someone pushed through the crowd, which parted, almost melted, instinctively before his arrogant assurance and his rapid, insistent Italian.
Leonie looked up at him dazedly, and gave a gasp of horrified shock as she recognised Giles. What was he doing here? She had imagined he would be well on his way by now. She tried to struggle upright, but before she could move he was beside her, one arm going round her waist, the other suddenly behind her knees, lifting her off her feet as if she were a child.
'Oh,' she broke out, blushing to her hairline. 'Put me down, Giles! I'm perfectly OK.'
'Is that why you fainted?' he enquired curtly. 'My car is parked over there; we'll drive to the nearest doctor and find out what's wrong.'
The crowd watched, beaming, enjoying the drama as Leonie wriggled, shaking her head so that her long blonde hair spilled like molten sunshine over the sleeve of his jacket.
'Good idea,' Angela said cheerfully, moving into his angle of vision and smiling. 'I expect someone in that chemist's shop over there could tell us where to find a doctor's surgery.'
Giles gave a brusque nod. 'Will you go and ask them while I'm putting Leonie into my car?'
'Well, my Italian is non-existent,' Angela said. 'What do I say to them?'
He gave her a brief Italian phrase to say. 'Get them to write the address down, too,' he commanded, and Angela gave a military salute, pulling a wry face.
'Yes, sir!'
He half smiled at the mockery, then began to walk away while Angela hurried off to the chemist.
The crowd watched all of them with evident fascination. It was better than a circus, all this exciting drama; they only wished they knew precisely what was going on between these three foreigners. If only they would start speaking Italian so that everyone could follow what was said.
'There's no need to bother a doctor,' Leonie said huskily, but Giles took no notice, his long strides covering the distance to his parked car in no time.
She looked up at him through her lashes and saw his face from a strange angle; the chiselled planes of his face,
the taut jaw, the surprising warmth and passionate potential of that hard mouth. Her heart began beating very fast again, and she felt almost sick. It made her breathless to be this close to him, able to see the graining of his face, the rhythmic beat of a pulse in his throat under that tanned skin, and her own reactions were terrifying the life out of her. How could you feel such a violent physical sensation and yet dislike the man touching you?
He must put her down soon; she couldn't bear being this close to him.
'Giles, please,' she whispered, and he looked down at her pausing beside his car, his dark head arrogantly tilted.
'Giles,' she pleaded., her lower lip trembling at the cool way he stared down at her. 'Please, put me down; I don't need a doctor, I'm not ill, I'm fine now. It was just the heat, and I think the coach trip made me feel rather sick, and then walking around the cathedral…but I'll be OK now.'
'You ought to see a doctor!' he merely said.
She was as flushed now as she had been white when she had first recovered consciousness. Held in his arms like this, how could she fight these disturbing responses to his touch, his nearness?
'Well, I don't want to!' she muttered crossly. 'Stop bullying me! You're always trying to push me around, and I hate it!'
He lowered her into the front passenger-seat of his car. 'Then if you won't see a doctor I'll drive you back to your hotel in Rimini.'
'There's no need for you to go out of your way! I can go back on the coach with everybody else.'
He bent down and caught her face in his hand, pushed it back and stared frowningly down at her, his eyes glittering like dark stars.
'Why are you so obstinate?'
'Why are you?' she said, deeply aware that he was staring down at her mouth. She wanted to scream at him: stop it! Stop looking at me like that. You don't know what you're doing to me! But she couldn't say anything, of course, or even hint that he was having this bewildering effect on her. It was probably all in her own fevered imagination, this intense awareness of him. He didn't even like her; he never had.
'I'm being sensible; you aren't,' he said curtly. 'Look, I'll drive you back to make sure you don't faint again, and when we get back to the hotel I'm going to insist you see a doctor.'
Leonie didn't bother to argue any more because Angela was running towards them.
'They gave me a list of local doctors,' she panted, holding out a printed sheet which held telephone numbers and addresses. 'I think the nearest one is—'
Giles interrupted. 'Leonie prefers to go back to Rimini and see a doctor there. I'll take her in my car, to save waiting around for this coach to start back.'
'Oh, that's great,' Angela said cheerfully. I'll hop into the back, shall I?'
Through her lowered lashes Leonie saw Giles frown, but Angela didn't wait for him to answer; a moment later she was in the back seat of the car and after a brief pause Giles got behind the wheel and switched on the engine.
Leonie leaned back, her eyes closed, hoping Giles wouldn't speak again until they reached Rimini. Angela was rattling on from the back, telling him about their holiday, asking about his work, asking about his mother's health. Giles answered coolly, politely, but Leonie sensed that his mind was on something else. Secretly she watched his hands on the wheel; they moved with such certainty and long-fingered deftness. Giles was a very confident man; she wished she had his certainty about himself and life. Her gaze flicked down sideways to observe the test of his body; he was strongly built, yet graceful, with that deep chest, slim waist, and long legs. Angela kept talking about how sexy he was; maybe that was why she, herself, couldn't apparently think about anything else?
Her face burned as she suddenly realised that while she had been assessing his body he had been watching her do so.
His brow lifted mockingly. 'Well?' he murmured, his voice so low that only she heard.
Leonie pretended not to have heard, though. Hot-faced, she turned her head away and stared out of the window without answering. She was furious when she heard Giles laugh. What on earth must he be thinking?
She didn't look his way again and stayed silent, but it was an enormous relief to drive up to their Rimini hotel some time later. Giles came round to help her out of the car, and she muttered a hurried thank you, but refused point-blank to see a doctor, in spite of everything Giles said.
'I told you, I fainted because of the heat,' she said firmly. 'I don't want to see some foreign doctor; he probably wouldn't understand a word I said, and I certainly wouldn't understand him, so just forget it, will you?'
'Well, at least promise me that if you feel ill again you'll get a doctor at once!' he said impatiently, and she promised, her fingers crossed behind her back.
'I'd better be on my way,' Giles said.
'Oh, stay for dinner!' invited Angela eagerly, but after a brief glance at Leonie's shuttered and averted face Giles coldly said he couldn't stay any longer, he had to get up early in the morning.
'Thank you very much for your help,' Leonie said rather distantly, knowing that Angela was pulling faces at her behind his back, silently ordering her to plead with him not to go yet.
He nodded, his mouth wry and crooked, then he had gone, and Angela burst out crossly, 'Why were you so offhand with him? If you'd asked him I'm sure he would have stayed for dinner!'
'I didn't want him to. I'm going to bed early!'
'You may be!' Angela said, her eyes accusing. 'I'm not! I may never get another chance to seduce him!'
'Sorry about that!' Leonie said insincerely, walking away towards the lift. 'But I'm going to bed now.'
It wasn't until she was back in England that she went to see a doctor, and then the suspicion that had begun to grow in her mind was finally confirmed.
She was pregnant.
CHAPTER THREE
'Oh, Leonie! What on earth are you going to do?' Angela said, looking aghast.
'Have it,' Leonie said, her face obstinate.
'But have you thought…? It will be so difficult, bringing up a baby alone!'
'Yes, of course I know that, but I'll manage, somehow. It will be worth it, to have Malcolm's baby!'
Angela blew her nose and looked fierce, then said, 'Do you think they'll let you go on working in your office until you have the baby?'
'I hope so,' Leonie said, but her voice was not confident. The head of the legal firm she worked for was a very old-fashioned man in his late sixties, and she suspected he would be taken aback when he discovered that she was going to have a child.
'Well, they can't sack you for it!' Angela said belligerently. 'Not in this day and age!'
Leonie wasn't too sure about that, her blue eyes rueful because she had already been over this argument, mentally, with herself, and she couldn't decide what might happen when her boss found out. 'For the moment, I'm not telling anyone at the firm,' she admitted. 'Mr Rawlings is as blind as a bat, and the others may not notice for a while, so I should have time to look about for another job.' She sighed. 'And somewhere to live.'
Angela was frowning. 'Won't you be able to stay on in this flat? They can't turn you out because you've had a baby! That's inhuman. There is plenty of room here.'
'Yes, but in my tenancy agreement it says that I cannot have pets or children in the flat—these flats are meant for single people; that's why they're so tiny.'
Angela bit her lip. 'Oh. But is it binding? I mean, you could fight them…'
'I'd lose. I haven't worked for a solicitor for years without finding out quite a bit about the law, and I signed that agreement, knowing what it meant.'
'But what will you do? I wish I could help, but you know there simply wouldn't be room for anyone else in my flat.' Angela's was a studio flat; one very spacious room which served her as bedroom, kitchen and sitting-room, and in which she also worked at her dressmaking, plus a tiny bathroom.
'Of course there wouldn't, although it's nice of you even to think about it!' Leonie said, smiling at her friend gratefully. 'Oh, don't worry, I'll find
somewhere, Angela. I'm a good secretary, I'll get good references from Mr Rawlings if he does want me to leave my job— and, you know, even if he says I can stay on, I may have to go because London rents are so high. I doubt if I could afford them if I had a baby to keep, too. I'll have to find someone to look after the baby while I work, and that will cost money, so I may have to leave London.'
'Leave London?' Angela sounded absolutely horrified. A Londoner born and bred, she couldn't imagine living anywhere else, and her expression was that of someone hearing that a friend had been condemned to exile from everything safe and beloved, 'But you won't know anyone—all your friends are in London! I think it would be a mistake to move to a strange place just when you're going to need support, Leonie. Don't even think of it.' Angela broke off. 'Unless… do you mean you're going to live with your mother?'
Leonie gave her a wry look, shaking her head. 'That wouldn't please my mother! She isn't really family-orientated, you know. She never wanted me when I was a child; she won't want me around now that I have a baby of my own.'
'Does she know?' Angela watched pink colour creep up Leonie's face and her blue eyes darken.
'Not yet. I'm waiting for the right moment to break it to her.' Leonie gave her a rueful look. 'If I told her now she would try to browbeat me into getting rid of the baby while it is still possible, and I don't want that, so I won't tell her until I have to.'
Nodding, Angela vaguely murmured, -Probably wise…' Then she said with hesitation, 'What about Malcolm's family? Couldn't they help? After all, this is his baby, and if he was alive it would be his responsibility, and the Rents are a rich family—they could easily afford to help you…'
'No!' Leonie said, turning dark red, her voice shaking with anger and determination.
Angela stared, looking amazed. 'But why not? Surely… after all, it will be Mrs Kent's grandchild!'
Forbidden Fruit Page 4