The Italian Count's Defiant Bride

by Catherine George

  ‘Certainly not,’ she snapped, and wrenched away before he could feel her response to his lean, graceful body.

  ‘Che peccato!’ He turned away to shrug into his jacket. ‘I will also not put you to the expense of a phone call to Montedaluca; therefore, I will contact you to learn when it is convenient for you to travel. What time is best for me to ring?’

  ‘Early evening. If I’m not here, leave a message.’

  She scribbled her numbers on the pad by the phone and tore off the sheet to give to him.

  ‘Grazie.’ He smiled in warning. ‘But remember, Alicia—if I cannot find you I shall apply to Megan again.’

  ‘Leave Megan out of this!’

  ‘Do not be angry with your charming friend. The blame is all mine.’ Francesco took her by the shoulders, looked at her mouth long enough to set her pulse racing, then kissed her swiftly on each cheek. ‘Arrivederci.’

  She stood very still for a while after the door closed while she willed her pulse back to normal, and then took a deep breath and walked across the room to pick up the phone.

  ‘Hello, Lally,’ said Megan fearfully.

  ‘I hope you hadn’t gone to bed.’

  ‘Not much point. I knew you’d ring tonight. Francesco told you, then?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Are you horribly angry with me?’

  Alicia sighed. ‘No. But I just wish you’d said something today.’

  ‘I couldn’t. I’d not only promised Francesco, at that point I hadn’t told Rhys.’

  ‘Hadn’t told me what?’ said a voice in the background.

  ‘That I’d talked to Francesco, darling.’

  Rhys took over the phone. ‘Don’t be angry with her, Lally. When Francesco said there was a will to sort out, my legal eagle here thought he should be given the chance to speak to you. She didn’t dare say a word in front of Gareth.’

  ‘Because he would have shouted at her, and you wouldn’t have stood for that, and there would have been blood on the carpet. He stormed off in a strop as it was,’ said Alicia, chuckling. ‘Put her back on.’

  ‘So what happened?’ asked Megan, sounding a little happier.

  Alicia told her in detail.

  ‘No! Are you really going to Montedaluca again?’

  ‘Not happily. But a bunch of elderly legatees can’t get their bit until I claim mine, apparently, so I don’t have much choice.’

  ‘Francesco didn’t say you’d have to go back there. Damn, I wish I’d kept my big mouth shut now,’ said Megan with remorse. ‘When will you go?’

  ‘After the home rugby games finish. I was taking a couple of weeks off then, anyway. Francesco’s paying my air fare. And to rattle my cage he even suggested booking it as La Contessa da Luca!’

  ‘Well, legally you’re still married to him.’

  ‘Not for long, Mrs Evans. I shall sign whatever dotted line is necessary to get myself unmarried the moment I get there and that will be that. He’ll be out of my life for good.’ Alicia gave an unsteady little laugh. ‘If only we’d gone to Spain or France for our reward holiday, Meg. Life would have been so much less complicated.’

  ‘True.’ Meg heaved a sigh. ‘I’m so glad you’re not mad at me, Lally.’

  ‘As if! Anyway, Francesco was very much against that. He’s a big fan of yours.’

  ‘I like him, too. I just wish—’

  ‘None of that. It’s late, and time you were in bed.’

  ‘With me,’ said a voice in the background, and Alicia chuckled and wished them both goodnight.

  But, when she went to bed herself later, for the first time since she’d moved into the flat the bed seemed empty with no one to share it. Even though, contrary to the impression she’d given Francesco, no one ever had.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ALICIA got home next day to find a message from Francesco on her phone.

  ‘I am back in Montedaluca, Alicia. I will ring you tomorrow.’

  Which sounded more like a threat than a promise. She pulled the pins from her hair, frowning as the curls sprang free. The prospect of regular phone calls from Francesco as part of life was worrying. Even more worrying, when she’d put him out of that life so completely for so long, was the fact that he was now back there, centre stage. So much so that she’d turned down the offer of dinner tonight with an ex-Saracens rugby player she’d been seeing occasionally when his business trips brought him to Cardiff. Jason had been hinting lately about a closer relationship, but that would mean revealing that she wasn’t quite as unattached as he thought. And, since her attachment was not only a husband but also an ex-rugby player, Jason would probably have heard of him.

  As though reinforcing his place centre stage, Francesco rang her regularly in the passing days to make sure she was making the necessary arrangements to get away, which made sure she thought of little else.

  ‘I’ve said I’ll come, so I will,’ she said crossly one night, cross because he hadn’t rung for a couple of nights and she’d stayed at home in case he did.

  ‘I am just making sure. Past experience with you, Alicia, has taught me this,’ he informed her.

  ‘Look, Francesco, I’ve given you the date, so now all you have to do is send the ticket. Or, better still, I’ll buy it myself and you can pay me for it later.’

  ‘Ah, no! I cannot trust you to do that. Besides, I have already arranged your flight.’

  ‘Have you, really? When do I fly?’

  ‘Tuesday of next week. And I have a message for you: Zia Luisa is looking forward very much to seeing you again.’

  ‘How sweet of her,’ said Alicia, touched. Along with her old Italian teacher, Bianca Giusti, that meant there would at least be two friendly faces at the castello.

  ‘So be ready to leave on that day,’ he commanded.

  ‘Si, signore. Whatever you say!’

  ‘If only that were true, Alicia. Arrivederci.’

  Instead of waiting in for Francesco to ring, Alicia arranged something for every evening before she left, including a girl’s night in with Megan when Rhys was working. But Alicia reserved the final Saturday for a shopping trip with her mother, followed by lunch.

  ‘I enjoyed our morning,’ Bron said as they studied a menu afterwards. ‘Tiring but productive.’

  ‘I really don’t need all this new stuff. I’m not going to be there long,’ said Alicia for the umpteenth time.

  ‘It still seems strange to me that you have to go back at all,’ said her mother, also not for the first time.

  ‘The peculiarities of Italian law, I suppose. Francesco knew exactly what buttons to push when he told me Zia Luisa and the others wouldn’t get their legacy until I take possession of mine. Whatever it may be.’

  Bron leaned back in her chair once they’d given their order, elegant as always in a white jacket over a black linen dress, her dark hair in the short, swinging cut she favoured. ‘Francesco didn’t tell you exactly what the contessa had left you?’

  ‘No. Not that it matters. Whatever it is, I shan’t keep it.’

  Bron frowned. ‘I know she wasn’t exactly warm towards you, but what did she do to make you so implacable ever since?’

  Alicia’s face shuttered. ‘Let’s not spoil our day by talking about it.’

  ‘All right, darling.’ Bron grimaced. ‘After our recent froideur I was afraid you might say no when I suggested some retail therapy.’

  Alicia smiled into the vividly attractive face of the woman who looked more like a sister than her mother. ‘No way. Without you to rein me in, lord knows what sartorial sins I might commit.’

  ‘True. When it comes to clothes, at least, I know my stuff.’

  ‘No doubt about that. Though you should have seen the contessa’s face when I said my mother was making my wedding dress!’

  Bron sniffed. ‘She expected some botched home-made affair totally unworthy of the Conte da Luca’s bride!’

  ‘Absolutely. She did her best to bully me into wearing a creation from the designer
she patronised, but since I’d already given in about having the wedding in Montedaluca I put my foot down when it came to the dress. I told her your bridal-wear business was very successful, and no matter what she said I wanted my mother to make my wedding gown. But she had grave doubts right up to the moment she saw me walk down the aisle. The look of relief on her face was priceless.’ Alicia frowned. ‘I wonder what happened to the dress? I left it at the castello when we went away.’

  ‘Do you want it back?’

  ‘Yes, but only because you made it. So if that’s the legacy I will accept it.’

  When Alicia got back to the flat later there was a message on her phone from the colleague she’d asked round for supper. Maggie had a cold, and thought it wise to keep her unfriendly bacteria to herself.

  Alicia rang back to commiserate, then curled up on the sofa with a cup of coffee and a new paperback, perfectly happy at the thought of her first peaceful evening that week. But she didn’t say so when Francesco rang.

  ‘How are you, and what have you done today, Alicia?’

  ‘I’m a bit tired. I went on a shopping spree with Bron. We had lunch together, and now she’s gone home to George.’

  ‘I trust your mother is well?’ he said punctiliously.

  ‘Positively blooming. Matrimony suits her.’

  ‘Unlike her daughter!’

  ‘True. You put me off it for life.’

  He drew in a sharp, audible breath. ‘You are cruel, Alicia.’

  ‘Hardly surprising, Francesco—I was taught by masters!’

  This statement silenced him for so long she began to wonder if they’d been cut off. ‘So, what are you doing this evening?’ he asked at last.

  ‘I invited a friend round for supper.’

  ‘You are cooking this supper?’

  ‘No. I raided a delicatessen rather than waste time at the stove.’ A statement deliberately designed to give Francesco the wrong impression.

  ‘Then I will leave you to enjoy your evening,’ he snapped. ‘Ciao, Alicia.’

  ‘Ciao, Francesco.’

  She smiled to herself as she put the phone down, hoping Francesco would spend his evening wondering about her supper guest while she relaxed alone with a book and a snack, and maybe a film on television later.

  Alicia had just finished the supper part of the programme when the doorbell rang. Her eyebrows rose. Most people she knew would be out on the town at this time of night.

  To her amazement, her caller was Gareth. ‘Come up.’ She pressed the release button, then stood in her open doorway, smiling as the familiar figure came bounding up the stairs instead of taking the lift. ‘Hey, this is a surprise! I didn’t know you were back in town this weekend.’

  ‘No one else does, either,’ he said, and took her in his arms and kissed her square on the mouth.

  Alicia pulled away, trying to hide her dismayed, knee-jerk rejection. ‘So, why am I honoured in particular? Weren’t you playing today?’ She waved him over to the sofa and sat down in the chair. ‘Have you eaten?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. And I did have a match today, but I drove down straight afterwards.’ Gareth leaned back against the sofa cushions, eyeing her in unnerving silence.

  She swallowed, feeling oddly shaken. Probably because they were so rarely alone together. Like his father and Megan, Gareth’s hair and eyes were very dark, but at this particular moment there was something in those Davies eyes that set off alarm bells in Alicia’s head. ‘So what are you doing back in Cardiff this weekend?’ she asked at last, desperate to break the silence.

  ‘After Megan’s phone call, I just had to see you.’ He leaned forward, accusation in every line of his massive, muscular body. ‘Is it true?’

  ‘Is what true?’

  ‘She said you’re going back to Montedaluca.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  His eyes blazed. ‘Why? Don’t tell me Francesco’s persuaded you to go back to him?’

  She shook her head impatiently. ‘Of course he hasn’t. I’m just going back for a day or two to get something the contessa left me. Apparently I’m required to take possession of it in person to satisfy the terms of the will.’

  He snorted. ‘And you actually believe such rot? It’s just an excuse for Francesco to get you back in his clutches. Once you’re there in his blasted castle again, goodness knows what might happen.’ He leaned nearer, his eyes urgent. ‘Don’t go, cariad.’

  She shrugged impatiently. ‘For heaven’s sake, Gareth, I’ll only be there a couple of days—just long enough to sort this legacy thing.’

  ‘Then I’ll go with you.’

  ‘You most certainly will not!’ The mere thought gave her hysterics.

  His eyebrows shot together in a black bar of disapproval. ‘Remember what happened before,’ he flung at her, and got up to stare out at the view.

  She eyed the tension in his shoulders, her uneasiness mounting. ‘Look, Gareth, have you really driven all the way to Cardiff just to tell me not to go to Montedaluca?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said baldly, and spun round to yank her up into his arms, his mouth on hers with an urgency that felt so wrong her stomach churned.

  In utter panic Alicia pushed at him, pummelling his shoulders. ‘Stop it!’ She wrenched away, gasping for breath. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing? That’s not who we are, Gareth.’

  ‘It’s who I am,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I want you. I love you, Alicia.’

  ‘Don’t. Please,’ she begged.

  ‘Surely you knew?’ he said, in a pleading tone so unlike him she shook her head miserably.

  ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘I could make you love me!’ He reached for her again, but she dodged away, fending him off with shaking hands.

  ‘I do love you, Gareth, and I always will—but purely as a brother. Never anything else. Ever.’ For the first time in her life, Alicia realised she felt a little wary of him. He was a big man, with the powerful build of a rugby No. 8. There would be nothing she could do, physically, to make him go. What if he refused to leave?

  She waited, trembling, as Gareth stood poised like a predator about to pounce, then abruptly the tension drained out of his body; he drew in a deep, shuddering breath and raked a hand through his dark hair.

  ‘You know damned well that I’m not your brother! And, believe me, I won’t give up, cariad. In time I’ll make you see that we could be good together.’

  ‘Not this way!’ She shook her head vehemently. ‘That’s never going to happen, Gareth.’

  He took her hand, his eyes full of sudden remorse. ‘You’re shaking!’

  ‘You frightened me,’ she said nervously.

  ‘I’m sorry—I would never hurt you, Lally.’ He squeezed her hand gently. ‘But listen to me. If you really must go back to that blasted place, be careful. Please.’

  She tried to smile. ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘If da Luca harms one hair of your head, I’ll beat his pretty face to a pulp,’ he warned. ‘Pass on the message.’

  ‘I think he’s got that particular message already,’ Alicia assured him, so weak with relief when Gareth made for the door her knees were knocking.

  ‘The parents are still in Hay, and Megan doesn’t know I’m here,’ he said, his eyes sliding away from hers as she saw him out. ‘Don’t tell them—any of it—please.’

  ‘I won’t. Promise. Where are you going now?’

  ‘Do you care?’ he said morosely.

  ‘Of course I care. Where will you spend the night?’

  His mouth twisted. ‘I take it you’re not offering to put me up?’

  ‘Afraid not.’

  ‘Then I’ll beg a night on a sofa from one of the old gang.’ He touched a hand to her cheek. ‘Goodnight, Lally. And remember what I said.’

  As if she was likely to forget! ‘I will. Goodnight, Gareth.’

  After he’d gone Alicia collapsed in her chair, heart pounding against the arms she hugged across her chest. Had she been the only one bl
ind all this time? This was one question she could never ask Megan. But Bron would know.

  ‘Mother,’ she said, when Bronwen Hughes answered the phone. ‘I’ve had a horrible shock.’

  ‘Oh, good heavens—what now?’

  Alicia gave her mother every detail of Gareth’s visit.

  ‘Just a minute,’ said Bron, sighing. ‘I need a word with George. I’ll ring you back.’

  Alicia waited on tenterhooks, then snatched up the phone when it rang. ‘I need help, Bron. What can I do about this?’

  ‘George has an early round of golf in the morning, so I’ll drive in to see you soon after nine.’

  ‘I’ll save you the drive and come to you.’

  ‘No, darling. I’d rather come there. Make sure you’ve got some good strong coffee while we sort this out.’

  After a virtually sleepless night Alicia opened the door to her mother next morning, eyeing her in concern.

  ‘You look tired, Bron,’ she said in remorse as she kissed her. ‘I’ll get the coffee.’

  Her mother sank down on the sofa, eyeing her searchingly. ‘You don’t look too good yourself.’

  ‘Really bad night. Did George think it odd that you were coming to see me again today?’

  ‘No, because I told him why. Besides, he knows I’m only too happy to spend time with you any chance I get.’ Bron accepted a cup of coffee gratefully, and drank some of it down.

  Alicia pulled her chair nearer. ‘Right. Let’s get to the point. What in heaven’s name do I do about Gareth? Did you have any idea how he felt about me?’

  ‘Once you hit your teens, yes. It worried me to death. He would have been so wrong for you. Getting you away from Gareth was partly why I gave in so easily when you wanted to get married straight from school. I felt safe for the first time in years.’

  ‘Safe?’

  ‘Because you would be married to a man who not only adored you but could give you the security I’d always lacked. The spectre of what happened to me hung over me all my life until I met George. All the time you were growing up, I worried that the same thing might happen to you. Which is why I was so protective and sent you off to the convent to be educated. Fortunately Eira and Huw were happy for Megan to go there too, so it worked well. But now it’s time I told you what did happen to me.’ Bron took in a deep breath.