by Lynne Graham
Shimmering golden eyes flamed over her in a provocative promise of more sensual delights to come. ‘I aim to please and I always deliver…’
A small hand yanked at Lucca’s trouser leg. He glanced down with a frown just as his son, whose presence he had entirely forgotten, hauled himself up into standing position and gave him a huge welcoming smile.
‘A Saracino to the backbone…he can’t stand to be ignored,’ Lucca commented in a tone of rueful recognition as he backed off a step and scooped Marco up into his arms. ‘But he’s got a lousy sense of timing.’
Vivien felt shell-shocked by the separation imposed on them by her son’s interruption. An instant later, she was hot-cheeked with shame at the abandoned way she had responded to Lucca. Writhing with embarrassment, she did her utmost to avoid Lucca’s keen gaze. He had just kissed her and she had gone up in a shower of sparks like a firework. He had to think she was sex-starved. Or desperate. Or very keen. As she had been saying the love word just two short days ago, she reckoned that the only way to behave around Lucca was to be ultra casual and friendly. For all he knew these days she went around telling every bloke she met that she loved him. Inwardly she cringed. How had she been so naïve? He had once told her that he was programmed to take advantage of naïve people and it had sounded like a warning.
‘Bath time,’ she announced breezily and marched out to the hall and up the stairs, leaving Lucca to follow.
He hovered like a third wheel while she ran the water and fetched pyjamas for Marco. ‘Bathing a child is such an ordinary event,’ he remarked. ‘But I must confess that it feels strange to be here with you both.’
‘Try doing it seven nights a week and I guarantee you’ll get over the strangeness,’ Vivien told him with a rueful laugh.
‘How often can I expect to be made welcome in the space of a week?’
Smooth brow furrowing, Vivien glanced up and was hurt by the sardonic cast of his lean, darkly handsome features. ‘Every night of the week if you like. I’m not going to keep you and Marco apart…I know you feel that you’ve missed a lot with him and I want to make up for that.’
‘You’re being very generous.’ Lucca wondered if it was a clever ploy meant to persuade him to again consider reinstating their marriage.
‘When I was awkward about arrangements before, it wasn’t part of a deliberate policy. I swear it wasn’t…I just found it very, very hard to let go of Marco even for a few hours,’ Vivien confessed in a rush. ‘But I didn’t appreciate what I was doing to you or see how unfair I was being until you made me think about it this week.’
‘What do I have to do or not do in return for this new way forward to continue?’
‘Nothing…nothing!’ she emphasised, hurt by the cynical look of suspicion in his steady scrutiny.
His wariness subsiding, Lucca dropped down into an athletic crouch to help her keep Marco still for long enough to undress his wriggling, restless little body. ‘Let me take care of all this.’
Surprised that he wanted to get that involved, Vivien warned, ‘He’ll get you all wet…’
Lucca shed his jacket, loosened his silk tie and removed his gold cuff-links. ‘No problem…’
Watching Lucca test the temperature of the water before lowering Marco with care and confidence into the bath, Vivien bit back the warning that Marco was as slippery as an eel. ‘I can see you’ve done this at least once before.’
‘Sì. With my cousin Paola’s children…maybe a couple of times,’ he admitted.
Vivien was really surprised. ‘I never would’ve dreamt that you had that much interest in kids.’
‘I didn’t have until Marco was born.’ He sent her a wry look from below his glorious ebony lashes and her heart rocked inside her. ‘Sometimes when I couldn’t see him, I went to see my cousin’s family instead.’
Her throat thickened. It was the perfect moment for Marco to pounce with glee on his fleet of miniature plastic boats and fish and create a diversion.
‘Do you want me to go?’ Vivien prompted uncomfortably, thinking that her own presence was scarcely necessary and might even be a source of annoyance.
‘Perché…what for?’ Lucca countered levelly. ‘Right now, Marco is happier being shared than fought over. Let’s not inflict too many changes on him at once, cara.’
Unlike Vivien, Lucca understood how much fun it was to have the fish noisily attack the boats by air and by sea and watch the boats fill up and sink. Marco was overjoyed by his father’s infinitely more energetic approach to bath time. Vivien was helplessly fascinated by what she was seeing: Lucca happily playing games that would have not shamed a five-year-old and getting splashed and soaked without complaint. The smiles and the laughter that broke out with such frequency only underlined the self-evident fact that Marco and his father got on like a house on fire.
A raw smile of appreciation slashed Lucca’s extravagantly handsome features as his son stretched up trusting arms to be lifted out of the water. ‘He’s fantastic…’
The bold charisma of that smile and the warm, unashamed emotion in Lucca’s stunning eyes made Vivien’s heart lurch. ‘I think so too.’
Between them, Marco’s wriggles were subdued for long enough to get him wrapped into a fleecy towel. Brilliant dark golden eyes assailed hers over the top of the little boy’s damp curly head. ‘Dio mio. You’d have been pregnant at the altar if I’d known how much I was likely to enjoy being a father!’
‘Really?’ She went pink. It crossed her mind that had he made that leap in comprehension while she was pregnant they might never have parted. But she didn’t say that because his unashamed love for Marco touched her deep. She was seeing a gentler side to Lucca’s tough temperament than he had ever allowed her, or, she imagined, most people, to see.
‘You’ve done a fabulous job with him too,’ Lucca breathed with blunt appreciation.
She was caught unprepared by that praise from a male to whom criticism came more readily, and Vivien’s fair skin turned a deeper pink. Staring up at Lucca, she felt breathless and on a high and it was a second or two before she registered that that irritating repetitive noise in the background was actually the front doorbell ringing.
‘Gosh, I’d better answer that…’ With pronounced reluctance, she backed away and bumped her hip on the doorframe on her way out. ‘I’ll only be a minute.’
As she hurried down the stairs her thoughts were centred entirely on Lucca. Already his cool detachment and bitterness were taking a backseat. Didn’t that prove that she had been right to agree the move to London? Her generosity was being rewarded. Lucca was smiling at her, complimenting her. They didn’t have anything to fight about any more either! Wasn’t that truly wonderful? A big sunny smile on her face, Vivien opened the front door.
Bewilderment held her still when Fabian Garsdale stepped into the porch. He was of medium height with distinguished wings of grey in his dark hair, and his neat metal-framed spectacles made him look very much like the academic he was.
‘Fabian…my goodness, I wasn’t expecting you.’
‘The train fare cost me a small fortune.’ His pale blue eyes were irritable. ‘And I didn’t get a seat.’
‘Oh, dear, how very unfortunate,’ Vivien soothed, struggling to silence Jock and prevent him from nipping playfully at Fabian’s heels. Sadly, Fabian wasn’t very doggy-orientated and Jock was forever teasing him. She shut the little animal into the kitchen and showed her visitor into the drawing room.
‘Did you get my letter?’ she asked.
Fabian had been away at a two-day conference in Hamburg. His absence had put her in a difficult position. She had not liked to break the news of her planned move in a phone call and he disliked email that was not work-related, so she had compromised by leaving a letter in his college pigeon-hole.
‘How else would I have known where you were? I set off as soon as I read it. I think that you’ve been very rash,’ he informed her with a reproving shake of his head.
Vivien never
liked it when Fabian spoke to her as though she were a not-very-bright four-year-old but he spoke to virtually everybody that way. ‘In the circumstances, I didn’t feel I had much choice.’
‘I wish that you had phoned me to discuss this course of action before you agreed to it,’ Fabian complained rather shortly. ‘It’s admirable that you should want to achieve a more civilised relationship with Marco’s father and enable him to take greater responsibility for his son. But you must be sensible and consider your own future as well.’
‘It wasn’t possible to do both…or, at least, where Lucca and Marco are concerned, things are rather more complex than that,’ she extended awkwardly, for, while her letter to Fabian had been as frank as their friendship deserved, she had not revealed anything very personal about the current state of her relationship with Lucca.
‘Of course they are. Naturally that silly woman’s newspaper confession opened old wounds but you mustn’t forget that you are practically divorced,’ Fabian pointed out testily.
Vivien lost colour at that reminder. ‘I’ll be divorced when it’s final.’
‘I can see that you still need to get Lucca Saracino out of your system.’ Fabian compressed his thin lips and raised a brow at the surprise blossoming in her expressive face. ‘I’m not a fool, Vivien. I don’t suffer from jealousy either. I’m a very pragmatic man. Before this happened, our friendship was moving onto a new stage. I was planning to ask you to marry me once you were free. However, recent events have superseded that time frame.’
Vivien was startled by that calm announcement of intent, for she had been quite unaware that the older man had begun thinking of her as a potential wife. ‘Fabian…I don’t know what to say. I had no—’
‘No, this is not the time to give me an answer,’ Fabian decreed with slight impatience. ‘It’s merely important that you should know that that option is there for the future. I have great respect and affection for you and we work very well together. I don’t know much about children but I would do my best to be a good stepfather to your son.’
A lump formed in her throat. She was touched and felt that she must have been shockingly blind not to notice the extent of his attachment to her. ‘How long have you been in love with me?’ she asked in an apologetic whisper.
‘Good heavens, no! I haven’t got quite that carried away.’ Fabian laughed out loud at that idea. ‘I hope I have more sense!’
Vivien froze. ‘Oh…then why were you thinking of marrying me?’
‘I find your company pleasant. You’re not a demanding woman. You have a remarkable brain,’ he acknowledged with his first hint of enthusiasm. ‘Mother likes you too. Her disliking you would not have prevented me from proposing but it would have made life difficult.’
The emotive lump in Vivien’s throat had wholly dissolved. It seemed that even her brain had more pulling power than the rest of her. Of course he didn’t love her. Nobody had ever really loved her but Marco. And she should have known better than to ask such a stupid question. Fabian was more into research than passion. In truth, he was not much given to emotion and his sense of humour was slight, but he was sincere. It was perfectly possible that he felt more for her in his dry, prosaic way than Lucca had ever felt for her, she thought wretchedly.
‘I’m pleased that your mother liked me,’ Vivien muttered tightly.
‘She has excellent taste.’ Fabian checked his watch. ‘I’m afraid I can’t stay any longer. I did promise to call in with a friend while I was in town. I’ll keep in touch. In due course, I expect you’ll be in a better position to give me a considered response to my proposal.’
As Fabian held open the door into the hall for her Vivien wondered if she ought to be thanking him for proposing, because it seemed awful to say nothing at all, and then she heard herself saying instead, ‘You know…Lucca’s here right now. He’s upstairs with Marco.’
‘I think not…’ Fabian said drily, drawing her attention belatedly to the tall dark male striding down the stairs.
‘Where’s Marco?’ Vivien asked Lucca anxiously, noting that he had replaced his tie and jacket. Apart from the fact that his luxuriant black hair was sexily tousled, he looked as sophisticated and bone-deep cool as always.
‘Fast asleep in his cot.’ Lucca surveyed Fabian with brooding intensity. He wasn’t that bad-looking for a short, skinny guy of advanced years. ‘You must be Fabian…’
‘Garsdale…Professor.’ Fabian extended a polite hand.
‘Must you leave so soon?’ Lucca purred and the silence was like a whirlpool gathering speed and destructive force.
Fabian stepped out rather hurriedly onto the doorstep. ‘Unfortunately, I must. I’m afraid I have another appointment and I’m running rather late as it is.’
‘What was he doing here?’ Lucca demanded harshly the instant the door closed on Fabian’s exit.
Vivien fell still, a dangerous light brightening the sadness in her eyes. ‘Fabian came here to tell me that he wanted to marry me,’ she admitted quietly.
‘Ha…bloody…ha,’ Lucca pronounced, unimpressed.
Anger came out of nowhere and roared through Vivien like an energising tidal wave. ‘Do you have a problem believing that another man might value me enough to ask me to be his wife?’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘NO, I don’t have a problem crediting that someone else might propose to you,’ Lucca drawled, smooth as glass. ‘I did it myself once.’
Vivien flinched. It was an injudicious reminder that summoned up memories of one of the most wonderful days of her life and made her all too miserably aware of how far they had travelled from that point. Three years had passed since Lucca had flown her to France to watch one of his racehorses win at Longchamp. Afterwards, he had proposed over champagne and strawberries and an exquisite diamond ring had been slid onto her finger. She had been so happy she’d cried.
‘I bet you wish you hadn’t,’ Vivien said facetiously.
‘I could never unwish Marco—’
‘But when I was carrying him, you would’ve done like a shot!’
‘I refuse to rise to that bait. We both made wrong assumptions on that score—’
‘You just can’t admit even now that you might have been in the wrong,’ Vivien condemned britily.
His wide, sensual mouth compressed. ‘Let’s concentrate on Professor Garsdale. Did he really ask you to marry him?’ Lucca enquired, as though that were quite the weirdest and very possibly the most comic thing he had heard since time began.
Vivien jerked her chin in stiff acknowledgement. ‘I fail to see why that should amuse you.’
‘Do I seem amused?’ The glitter of gold in Lucca’s stunning gaze was bright as the heart of a fire. ‘You have got me wrong. I’m astonished by Garsdale’s nerve and surprised you didn’t throw him out of the house. Or was his short stay the result of your request that he leave?’
Her teeth gritted together. ‘Most women would regard a marriage proposal as a compliment. I can’t see why you would think I’d be tempted to show Fabian the door over the head of it!’
‘You must be very obtuse.’
‘I don’t think so. You’re being incredibly rude.’ Vivien could hear her own voice rising in spite of her desire to remain cool in the face of all provocation. ‘Fabian is very respected in academic circles and he has been a very good friend to me.’
‘He also happens to be easily old enough to be your father. Possibly you have reached the conclusion that I was a little too exciting for you,’ Lucca murmured, offering that tantalising opinion in a drawl as soft as silk. ‘But opting for the equivalent of a quiet space in a twin coffin seems rather premature for a woman who is only twenty-seven years old.’
The burn effect of his whiplash tongue sent a painful flush climbing up Vivien’s slender throat. ‘I suppose you think it’s clever to be smart at Fabian’s expense.’
‘Don’t you find it strange that the professor left you here alone with me without a murmur?’
‘Fabian is too mature and too dignified to stoop to any other kind of behaviour!’
Lucca vented a not very pleasant laugh. ‘Is that what you call it? I would have said his hasty departure had much more to do with self-preservation. He didn’t want to risk a scene and he didn’t want to rile me either.’
Vivien thrust up her chin, her anger steadily mounting. ‘You’ve got no right to imply that Fabian might be a coward.’
His brilliant golden gaze was heavily sardonic. ‘Stop trying to send me up, Vivi. You wouldn’t even consider marrying a guy like that after me!’
‘Oh, wouldn’t I?’ The sound of that pet name was like salt rubbed in an open wound. Once that name had been a term of affection and intimacy. Now it was only a cruel aide-mémoire to all she had lost. She honestly did not know how she had been tempted into the indiscretion of telling Lucca that Fabian had asked her to marry him. But having done it, she would have loyally defended Fabian to the death. Lucca’s derisive remarks only added a more bitter edge to emotions that were already threatening to get out of her control.
His lean, strikingly handsome face clenched hard. ‘No, you wouldn’t marry him,’ he breathed almost harshly, answering his own arrogant question. ‘You deserve better than a guy I can laugh at.’
‘Sticks and stones. You’re so wrong about Fabian!’ Vivien slung him a tempestuous look of condemnation, dimly wondering why she was so angry with him. ‘I don’t think he would ever make me as unhappy as you did—’
An ebony brow elevated, questioning that statement. ‘I doubt that very much. You’re full of passion and he acts like a very cold fish.’
‘When I was no longer flavour of the month, there was nobody colder than you. Fabian isn’t volatile and it’s highly unlikely that anyone will ever refer to him as a womaniser!’
‘Inferno! I am not and I have never been a womaniser.’ Lucca swore, slashing a lean brown hand through the air in fierce emphasis. ‘I resent the label. I have a high public profile. If I’m even seen talking to a woman, the rumour that I’ve bedded her hits the gossip columns. When we got married, I became even more of a target.’