Hired: The Italian's Convenient Mistress

by Carol Marinelli

Enid took Guido off to get him ready, which left Elijah alone with his thoughts—and for the hundredth time he berated himself for his haste to accuse rather than to listen. Maybe she’d just gone to say goodbye to Angus? Elijah wondered hopelessly as he logged onto his computer. One final time together for old times’ sake? Hell, he’d done that on many occasions himself—why shouldn’t the same rules apply to her?

  They just didn’t.

  And they didn’t apply to him any more either.

  Picking up the little black box by the computer, he opened it, stared at the mocking ring.

  He’d being going to ask her.

  Properly.

  Ahead of the Social Services decision. Because that had seemed important somehow.

  On his flight home Elijah had realised that though the decision was vital to him, to them it didn’t actually matter. He needed her for so much more than Guido.

  Needed that loyal, feisty, funny, beautiful woman in every aspect of his life.

  A woman who could even make him smile now, when he tracked her manic spending.

  In the hours she’d been gone she’d done pretty well, but his smile faded when he realised that she must have checked out.

  Somewhere deep inside he’d known that she would.

  He was scanning the entries now—for a sum so little it shouldn’t matter. The fact it wasn’t there actually mattered a lot, brought tears to dry eyes. He realised she’d paid for his Christmas present herself. But again, somewhere deep inside he’d already known that she had.

  But men couldn’t be seen crying.

  Especially when Enid informed him that she was on her way out and that his nemesis was at the front door.

  ‘Should I show Dr Maitlin in?’

  ‘No—I’ll see him at the door.’

  ‘It’s not doing much good there…’ For the first time Enid interfered, glancing down to the ring he was holding. ‘Sitting in a box when it should be on her finger.’

  ‘I’ll tell her that, shall I?’ Elijah’s sarcasm didn’t faze Enid. ‘When I see her next?’

  ‘Happen you should!’

  Clearing his throat, Elijah stood, unclenched his fists, and vowed to himself that he wouldn’t hit him, would only open the door. It was a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep.

  ‘Is Ainslie in?’

  It took a supreme effort to tell him where she was staying—but the barb on his tongue still needed an out.

  ‘You’d better hurry, though—it would seem she just checked out—or checked in with the next rich fool to come along.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Angus frowned. ‘I was asking after Ainslie. I just wanted to clear something up.’

  ‘Well, she’s gone.’

  ‘Fine…’ Angus turned to go, and then changed his mind. ‘If she does get in touch, would you ask her to call me?’

  Elijah’s fists balled at his sides. New Year’s resolutions were fading fast and he was sorely tempted to knock his lights out.

  ‘Only I think I owe her an apology.’

  ‘Aspetta! Wait!’ Elijah instructed, watching Angus’s shoulders stiffen. Clearly he was a man not used to being told! ‘Look…’ Elijah closed his eyes and struggled to keep his voice even, because even if he might not like what he was about to hear he badly needed to hear it. ‘Would you mind coming inside? Would you mind explaining what is going on with you and Ainslie?’

  ‘Let’s just leave it.’ Angus was walking away.

  ‘I read your reference for her…’ Elijah gave a tight smile. ‘I was hoping to clarify a couple of points—perhaps I should ring your wife?’

  ‘You’d have to find her first.’ Reluctantly Angus came in and sat down in the study. ‘My marriage has just broken up, so believe me—I’m not in the mood for small talk.’

  ‘Me neither.’ Elijah gave a tight smile. ‘Ainslie told me when I hired her that she was fired because she had been accused of theft.’ He knew it was a white lie, but he needed to find out exactly what was going on here.

  ‘She told you about it?’ Angus frowned. ‘And you still employed her?’

  ‘Ainslie wouldn’t steal.’ Without hesitation he said it. He believed in her then just as he had on that day—and with that came the appalling realisation that she wouldn’t cheat either. That the suspicious, mistrusting world he had inhabited all his life had blinded him to simple beauty. ‘Ainslie would not have stolen your wife’s necklace. I know that.’

  ‘I wish I had!’ Angus let out a long sigh. ‘Look—I have no desire to give you the details, but at the time it didn’t sit right with me, and I told Ainslie that. She came to see me yesterday—when she read in the paper that my marriage had ended—and unfortunately it never entered my head to ask her till she was leaving…She was too busy checking that the kids and I were okay. And then it dawned on me—she didn’t steal that necklace; that would have been my wife’s excuse to get rid of her. I wondered if perhaps Ainslie had found out that my wife was having an affair.’

  ‘Was she?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Angus gave a wry laugh. ‘All I asked from my sham of a marriage was that we were faithful—something it would appear my ex-wife couldn’t adhere to.’

  ‘And you did?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  And the strength, the unwavering conviction in his voice, suddenly had Elijah feeling very small—very small indeed.

  ‘I am going to see Ainslie now—hoping to see her,’ Elijah added. ‘If I do, I will pass on what you have said.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Angus shook his hand. ‘And I’m sorry about your family.’

  ‘She told you about my sister?’

  ‘Ainslie wouldn’t discuss anything like that. I spoke to you on the phone. The day of the accident.’

  ‘It was you?’ Elijah’s face paled, recalling again the awful call that had changed his life in so many ways.

  ‘I was the receiving doctor when your sister was brought in. I’m very sorry for your loss.’

  ‘Thank you.’ It was all he could manage. All he could manage as he was plunged from hell to hell—remembering Angus’s kindness that day, the voice on the phone that had gently delivered the hardest of news, remembering again, living again, what had happened to his family, the fear that had gripped him until Ainslie had come along.

  Until she’d waltzed into his life and somehow made it bearable.

  Because without her he truly didn’t know how he’d have coped.

  ‘One other thing….’ Angus cleared his throat, paused for the longest time before speaking again.

  Elijah could never have guessed the indecision behind the strong voice—could never have guessed that what was about to be delivered was absolutely against Angus’s usually impeccable better judgement. Angus could almost see his medical licence flashing before a BMA review panel, but somehow it seemed imperative to go on.

  ‘You’ll no doubt hear soon anyway—though I’d prefer that you didn’t mention you’ve heard it from me…’

  ‘Hear what?’ Elijah’s hackles were raised, the intuition, the gut instinct that had led him from the streets to a penthouse, telling him that this was big.

  ‘A detective contacted me this afternoon…It would appear your sister and brother-in-law’s case is being reopened—it would seem it’s not quite as open and shut as it first appeared.’ He gave an uncomfortable shrug. ‘Just so you know.’

  He had known.

  From the minute he’d seen his sister at some level he’d known. But at every turn he’d been thwarted, called irrational, tired, paranoid. Yet he’d known that it had been no accident—and now it would seem he was about to be proved right.

  Without her!

  The words buzzed in his ears—his throat was impossibly dry as he tried to speak. ‘Who was the detective you spoke with?’

  ‘I’d rather not say. Wait till they contact you.’ Angus was heading down the steps now, walking out onto the street. He jumped a touch as Elijah grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around. As a trauma doctor Angus kn
ew what he was seeing, witnessed naked fear in Elijah eyes.

  ‘I need to know!’ he shouted, and Angus knew it wasn’t at him. ‘I think Ainslie is in danger.’

  The detective wasn’t so easily convinced.

  Elijah—wanting to shoot from the hip, wanting only to go to her—paced the lounge like a caged lion as the detective insisted on details.

  ‘You hired private detectives,’ he pointed out. ‘That explains why she thought she was being followed.’

  ‘It does…’ Elijah said through gritted teeth. ‘And I hired a bodyguard for Guido. Initially I was worried the Castellas might try to take him, and when I became suspicious I hired a private detective. Your colleagues,’ he added, with more than a dash of resentment, ‘didn’t take my concerns seriously when I rang them after I spoke with the social worker.’

  ‘Maybe they did,’ the detective replied. ‘Given that the case is being re-examined.’

  ‘I always thought that Rico’s family might be behind this—from the moment I realised they knew this house was in Maria’s and Rico’s names I was sure it had to be more than a coincidence. So I went to Italy to check up on them.’

  ‘Hoping to find what?’

  ‘Something—anything. I wanted to see if they’d paid a deposit for the apartment they’re living in now—if they’d paid out any large sums.’

  ‘You accessed their bank accounts?’

  Elijah nodded without guilt—because he hadn’t a shred—just as he hadn’t had a shred of guilt when he’d called in a favour at the New Year’s Eve party. ‘I had to go there—they wouldn’t give me any information over the phone.’

  ‘And had they?’

  ‘No.’ The detective opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. But Elijah answered for him. ‘Their financial situation is dire.’

  ‘That’s not a crime,’ the detective said. ‘And neither is stopping to purchase a gift at the airport. If you thought there was danger—why did you leave?’

  ‘Because I had to find out what was going on. I had my nephew moved to the fourth floor. I had a bodyguard posing as my driver, watching Guido all the time, and I had a private detective parked outside the house to keep an eye on Ainslie.’

  ‘Where is the private detective now?’

  ‘I called him off—I thought they were safe,’ Elijah roared. ‘I thought for once I was wrong, that I was just being paranoid. But Ainslie thought she was being watched again yesterday.’ Elijah stared the detective straight in the eye.

  ‘And was she?’

  ‘Not by my detective—I was on my way to meet him.’

  ‘You believe she’s in imminent danger?’

  Elijah nodded, and it was Angus pacing now—Angus who greeted an utterly bemused Enid and Ms Anderson when they walked in.

  ‘Find Ainslie!’ Elijah called to Tony, before he was even through the door, his voice nearing desperation as he tried to spell out to the detective just how dire things really were. ‘They think we are still engaged. They have no reason to think otherwise. Without Ainslie—’ he gulped in air as he said it. ‘Without Ainslie I would not be granted custody of my nephew.’

  ‘You know that for sure?’

  ‘I think I was about to find out.’ Elijah glanced over to Ms Anderson, who nodded.

  ‘But the Castellas wouldn’t know that—’ the detective pointed out.

  ‘The Castella family know,’ Ms Anderson interrupted. ‘I just informed them of them of my decision. That in my opinion, for now at least, Guido should stay where he is—with Elijah and his fiancée.’

  ‘Stay put.’ The detective was pulling out his phone. ‘I’ll get a uniformed officer to stay with you. Don’t go getting any big ideas…’ He waited till the two men obediently sat before racing out through the door. But the second his car skidded off Elijah looked over to Angus.

  Elijah was already standing. ‘He is joking—he doesn’t just expect us to sit here?’

  He knew how the Castellas worked. Had grown up on rough streets himself. The instinct that had got him through his childhood and teenage years had taught him a thing or three, and not to use that now—to leave Ainslie to the Castellas—was incomprehensible.

  And if they harmed her—if they hurt her—if because of his actions, the world carried on without her…

  Elijah closed his eyes as Angus sped off.

  It was unthinkable.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  SHE felt better—well, how could she not?

  She had feasted on the tiniest of sandwiches, each delectable crustless finger a taste sensation, and on the most divine raisin and apple scones, smeared with strawberry jam and clotted cream, and tiny little pastries served on a three-tiered silver server—all for her! And the surroundings were to die for! Her mind was soothed by the music that wafted in the air around her, and with a glass of champagne in her hand, endless aromatic tea waiting to be sipped, it was hard not to believe that life wouldn’t again be good.

  Afternoon tea, she’d found out, usually had to be booked weeks in advance, but given she’d been a paying guest—well, she’d been shown right through. Had sat and people-watched and realised, with a very brave smile, that she was lucky to be here.

  Lucky to sample a taste of a life that was so far removed from hers.

  Lucky to have had him—even if just for a little while.

  And as Ainslie stepped out onto the street, walked out under the arches and felt the late-afternoon sun on her face, heading where she didn’t quite know, but would soon work out, Ainslie also knew that, whatever he chose to believe, Elijah had been lucky to have her.

  She could ring Angus, Ainslie mused. Or then again perhaps not. She wasn’t really up to being around anyone, wanted to be alone a little while longer to lick her wounds…

  ‘Sorry!’ So deep was she in her thoughts, Ainslie actually thought she had bumped into someone. It took a second for her to realise that this was no accident. Her bag was being tugged from her shoulder.

  Her first instinct was to cling on, to scream for help—only she was mute, stepping into survival mode and knowing she should just let it go. A bag wasn’t worth fighting over—so she didn’t. She just let the strap slip down her arm, her heart pumping, wanting the man gone. Only it didn’t happen. She could see her bag being tossed on the ground, and Ainslie glimpsed real fear for the first time in her life as everything seemed to move in slow motion—the stench of body odour hit her, the wail of sirens was growing louder and louder, and she had the horrible, horrible realisation that he had a knife. This man who had taken her bag had a knife—and he was going to use it.

  She’d never expected to wake up to him again.

  Had said goodbye to that dream already.

  But maybe she was dreaming—because it didn’t actually look like Elijah. The Elijah she knew didn’t cry, and this one had been.

  ‘He stabbed me.’ It was the second thought that came into her head, and her hands raced to her body, trying to locate her pain.

  ‘No!’ He moved to soothe her, but he couldn’t. She could feel the needle of the drip in her arm, could see her blood on his shirt, could remember the knife.

  ‘Oh, God!’ Panic was building. ‘What will I tell my mum?’

  ‘That you didn’t get stabbed.’ He lifted up his shirt, showed her a very white dressing against a very nice stomach, and on his tired grey face he managed a smile. ‘That was me. You fainted when you saw that I had been stabbed, and hit your head on the pavement.’

  ‘You?’ It didn’t make sense, but it was starting to, like trying to remember a dream. Little fragments of images pierced her mind—a wedge of muscle against her, the pungent scent of her assailant overridden by a beautiful, familiar, masculine smell, and then drenching her the sweet, heady relief that Elijah was here, that she would be safe, that he would make everything right. ‘How did you know to be there…?’ Her head thrashed on the pillow in confusion. ‘Were you having me followed again?’

  ‘No…but I wish t
o God I had been though. Ainslie, I had you followed while I was away because I feared for you—and feared for Guido too.’

  ‘Feared for us?’

  ‘It wasn’t an accident that killed my sister and Rico—it was a hit. Marco and Dina arranged to have them killed.’ He held her hands tighter as he admitted what he’d exposed her to, and she knew it wasn’t paranoia or hate that was speaking, knew she was hearing the truth. ‘And yours was not a random mugging—though that was how it was supposed to appear. A mugging that got out of hand…’ He actually flinched as he said it. ‘You were supposed to be killed too.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘You,’ Elijah confirmed. ‘Because without you I would never have been granted custody of Guido.’

  She felt sick, actually physically sick, at the thought someone would want her dead—that someone, anyone, could care so much for money and so little for life.

  He needed a shave. Funny the things you thought about. Funny that something so irrelevant should come into her focus as everything changed. But he really did need a shave—the designer stubble he’d worn yesterday was far heavier now. He looked like a gypsy, Ainslie decided, as he took her hand, and tears filled her eyes for what Guido would one day have to hear.

  ‘The police have arrested and charged them….’ Closing his eyes, he brought a hand to his chin, index finger pressed against his lips, dragging air in and out for a minute as he tried to find the formula to an unknown poison. ‘I had my suspicions—suddenly they’d found out Maria and Rico had money…to me it seemed too much of a coincidence—but then I told myself I was being ridiculous, that they would never want them dead. The police at the time seemed confident it was an accident. And Ms Anderson—everyone—seemed to think it reasonable that, despite the differences between the families, they would want to take care of their orphaned nephew…’

  She looked at him with new eyes now. The man who had to her seemed so bitter and mistrusting had been—but for all the right reasons.

  ‘Tony isn’t my driver—he’s a bodyguard. I hired him to keep an eye on Guido. At first I thought they might try to take him, but then the more I thought about it the more I was convinced they were to do with the accident.’