The Sicilian's Mistress
Page 19
They went downstairs together. Milly thought over the past week. It had been very eventful. All the publicity generated by their marriage and her mistaken identification as Faith Jennings had had stunning results as far as the Jennings family were concerned. Their long-lost daughter had written her parents a tentative letter from her home in the north of Scotland.
Divorced, and with three young children, the real Faith had admitted that the longer time went on the more difficult she had found it to get back in touch. They had since talked on the phone and were planning to meet in the New Year. Robin and Davina were anxious about how that reunion might go, but determined to be accepting of their adult daughter’s independence. Milly believed it would be a happy reunion, because Faith had sounded rather lonely in her letter.
Gianni had also gone to see Stefano. They had talked. Gianni had emerged from that discussion feeling rather guilty, never having quite appreciated just how much Stefano relied on his approval, or indeed how devastated Stefano had been when Gianni had stopped treating him like a brother and given him only financial support. It was early days yet, but Milly reckoned that the healing process had started.
Gianni surveyed the drawing room of Heywood House. All the formality and the cool elegance had been banished. In all the rooms Milly used seasonal throws, glittery embellishments, festive padded cushions, unsophisticated homemade log, autumn leaf and berry arrangements and streams of paper chains ruled. Gianni even had to suffer a large fluffy Santa Claus toy on his library desk.
And he just loved it all, he acknowledged with a rueful smile of appreciation. He just loved the rich colour and warmth she brought into her surroundings, her innate ability to transform a house into a real home. He set a small parcel wrapped in beautiful paper down in front of her. ‘You get your real presents tomorrow, but this is just a trifle I picked up ages ago,’ he admitted, half under his breath.
Milly ripped off the paper and found herself looking at a delicate golden angel inside a crystal snowstorm on an ornate base. ‘Oh, Gianni…’ she sighed extravagantly. ‘This is exquisite! Where did you get it?’
‘New York.’
‘But you haven’t been there since—’
‘Last year,’ Gianni admitted, bracing himself.
‘But you hadn’t even found me then!’ Milly gasped, instantly leaping up to envelop him in frantic hugs and kisses.
As desire flashed between them to instantaneous heat, Milly jerked back a step. ‘Sometimes I love you so much it just hurts, but we still have a sooty bootprint to make on the hearth, so that Connor can see which chimney Santa Claus used as an entrance,’ she explained apologetically.
‘Maybe with the number of chimneys we’ve got we should put a flag on the roof so that the old guy doesn’t get confused,’ Gianni suggested deadpan as he curved her smoothly back into the possessive circle of his arms, knowing that bootprints could be faked after midnight as well as before it.
‘Magic, doesn’t need flags, Gianni!’
Against the backdrop of the flickering firelight and the glittering tree, Gianni scanned her wide, loving smile with softened dark eyes and pulled her close. ‘You’re the magic in my life, cara mia. I love you.’
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0680-9
THE SICILIAN’S MISTRESS
First North American Publication 2000.
Copyright © 1999 by Lynne Graham.
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