Читать книгу The Arranged Marriage - Emma Darcy, Emma Darcy - Страница 9

THEY were sitting at the table by the fountain again. A sumptuous afternoon tea had been served. Marco was happily running around the lawn, exploring various parts of the gardens. It would have been the perfect wind-down from her audition, but for the somewhat sour presence of Michelle Banks.

Even so, Gina’s inner excitement could not be dampened. Isabella Valeri King had more than approved her singing. She had complimented her on it with open pleasure. So had Alex King. And best of all, she now had Isabella’s assurance of a high recommendation for bookings. In future, she would be singing at the castle many times, for a much bigger fee than she had ever been offered before.

It didn’t matter that Michelle Banks had more or less removed herself from making even a friendly comment. Perhaps she had wanted Alex to herself this afternoon and resented his being dragged into helping with Isabella’s business. Although Alex hadn’t seemed to mind the claim on his time.

He’d been so kind and helpful. If he wasn’t taken, Gina had the funny feeling she’d be head over heels in love with him. When he’d held her hand, and she’d looked into his eyes, there’d been a heart-thumping connection that had energised her whole body.

But she mustn’t dwell on that.

He was taken.

It was probably his nature to be kind to everyone. It didn’t mean that he was attracted to her, anywhere near as strongly as she was attracted to him. How could he be? She wasn’t in the same class as his fiancée.

The home-baked carrot cake with the delicious soft cream-cheese topping kept tempting her. She’d already had one piece. Would it look greedy if she took another? She was always hungry after a performance. It took so much energy. Apart from which, her stomach had been churning with nerves beforehand, making it impossible to eat a proper lunch.

Alex reached out and helped himself to a second slice. Catching her watching his action, he grinned, his blue eyes twinkling a teasing awareness of her own temptation. “It’s my favourite cake. Can’t resist.”

“It sure is the best,” she agreed on a pleasurable sigh.

“Like some more?”

He was already moving a serving towards her plate and Gina couldn’t resist, either. “Yes, please.”

“It’s terribly rich,” Michelle remarked critically.

“An indulgence in rich food now and then is one of the pleasures of life,” Isabella declared.

“If you want to pay the price,” Michelle mocked, her gaze flicking over Gina’s well-rounded arms.

“Oh, some people burn off the calories easily enough,” Alex drawled, then smiled at Gina. “I imagine keeping up with a highly active little boy like Marco gives you plenty of exercise.”

Her heart fluttered at the support he was giving her against his fiancée’s opinion. She wasn’t fat in his eyes. He liked her. He had to like her to be defending her weakness for the calorie-laden cake. Or maybe he didn’t care if she put on weight. Why would he? She wasn’t the woman he was going to marry.

“Marco does keep me busy,” she replied to Alex, then wrenched her gaze away from him, bypassing the fashionably thin woman he loved, to excuse her appetite for rich food to Isabella. “It’s Sunday. I’ve always considered it a day to relax a bit on rules and simply enjoy.”

“That is the Italian tradition,” the old lady approved. “Besides, I like my cooking to be appreciated.”

“It really is a superb cake,” Gina instantly responded.

“Thank you, my dear.”

Gina wasn’t into the game-playing of scoring off people, but she couldn’t help taking considerable satisfaction in Isabella’s benevolent approval. Strict dieting could be taken too far. When people took the trouble to provide special treats, unless there was some medical problem forbidding any indulgence, it seemed impolite not to partake of anything. It was like ignoring the efforts to please. Possibly Michelle felt no need to please in return. She had only taken black tea with a slice of lemon, disdaining all the food offered.

Not that it was any of her business how these relationships worked, Gina told herself, but she had the strong feeling Isabella wasn’t overly fond of her grandson’s choice. Neither was she. Although it could be jealousy prompting the dislike that was growing in leaps and bounds.

Marco provided a fortuitous distraction, pelting across the lawn with his hands cupped together to contain something. “Look what I found, Mama!” he crowed excitedly.

“Come and show me, Marco,” Isabella called, turning in her chair to beckon him to her.

Her encouraging smile—or her natural air of authority—drew him to the other side of the table and he came to a triumphant halt between Isabella and Michelle. His eyes danced delightedly at the older woman and Gina knew he was basking in her indulgent interest, wanting to show off to her.

“It’s a surp’ise!” he told her, beaming sheer mischief.

“I like surprises,” Isabella assured him.

“Look!” he cried, uncupping his hands like a master magician.

A small cane toad instantly leapt from his uncovered palm, straight onto Michelle Banks’ lap.

She jumped up from her chair, shrieking with horror, her hands moving in frantic, scissor-like slaps to get the creature off her. Perversely it hopped onto her arm before escaping to freedom, and Michelle shuddered all over at having suffered its touch on her skin.

“You filthy child!” she flung at Marco. “Bringing that slimy thing up here and letting it jump on me!”

She stepped towards him, her face screwed into venomous fury, her long lean body bending forward, arm outswinging.

The realisation that she was going to hit Marco had Gina leaping to her feet. But she was too far away to stop it, too shocked to even call out “No!”

It was Alex, surging from his chair, who caught Michelle’s arm, halting it in midair, his fingers closing around it with warning force and lowering it her side. Virtually in the same instant, Isabella acted, reaching out and scooping Marco back from the line of fire.

“There is no harm done, Michelle,” Alex stated, his voice hard with command, the power of the man literally shimmering from him in such strong waves, Gina instinctively held her breath, her heart thumping wildly against the constriction in her chest.

He was defending her son…saving him from the physical abuse his fiancée would still deliver, given half a chance.

“No harm!” Michelle screeched, her body snapping upright, her gaze slicing daggers at Alex for intervening. Frustrated in one act of violence, she bared her teeth at Marco who shrank back, not understanding his offence. “You’ve ruined my trousers with your filthy carelessness,” she accused, her rage unabated.

“Hardly ruined,” Alex bit out, his jaw tightening at this further outburst.

“Boys will be boys.” Isabella’s tone was deliberately temperate but she flashed a quelling look at Michelle as she put her arm around Marco in a comforting hug. “All living creatures are fascinating to them at this age.”

“Cane toads!” Michelle raved on, her revulsion still volatile. “Ugly, creepy cane toads!”

Marco was cowering back in the protective circle of Isabella’s arm, fright stamped on his face as he stared, goggle-eyed at his attacker.

Gina shook herself out of the gut-knotting tension. Her son needed her help, her reassurance. Alex and Isabella King were protecting him but she was his mother.

“I’m sorry the toad accidentally leapt on you, Michelle,” she said quietly, “but please don’t blame my son for it. Marco thinks catching toads is good. He sometimes helps one of his uncles do it and he’s used to being praised for bringing them to him.”

Blazing outrage was swung directly on her. “You let him help his uncle catch these disgusting things?”

Gina nodded, keeping her composure very calm for her son’s sake. “To Marco, it’s a great game. His uncle organises toad races for tourists. He gives them names like Fat Freddo, Forest Lump, Prince Charming…”

“Prince Charming?” Alex cocked an eyebrow at her, his tone amused, although there was no amusement in his eyes, more a wry appreciation of the distraction she was offering. Anger at the ugly scene simmered behind it.

Gina forced a smile at him, grateful for his help in easing the tension and the shock for Marco. “What’s more…” she went on, determined on giving her son more recovery time, “…if Prince Charming wins the race and it’s been bought to win by a woman, he tries to chat the woman into kissing it.”

“Kiss a toad?” Michelle gagged at the thought.

“It causes great hilarity amongst the spectators. They enjoy the mad fun of it. No one has to go through with the kissing but some do, getting their friends or family to video it so the story will be believed when they go home,” Gina patiently explained.

“I’ll bet it makes a great story,” Alex chimed in, sealing her account with pointed approval, then turning to deal more directly with his fiancée. “It’s all a matter of perspective, Michelle.”

“Ugh!” was her jeering response. “If you don’t mind…” She tore her wrist out of his hold. “…I’m going to wash the slime off my arm.”

She swung on her heel and with a haughty disdain of every effort to rescue the situation, marched off to the closest rest room. Her snubbing departure left a silence loaded with spine-crawling embarrassment. Gina glanced quickly at Marco who looked as if he was still teetering on the point of bursting into tears, despite the soothing-down process.

Alex moved to crouch in front of him. “Hey, Marco! How about we go look in the fish pond,” he suggested cheerfully.

“Fish?” her little son repeated on a slight wobble.

“Yep. Big red ones, gold ones, spotted ones. Let’s count them and see how many there are.” He plucked Marco out of his grandmother’s protective hold, swung him up in the air and perched him on his chest so they were face-to-face. “Can you count?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows as though in doubt.

“Yes.” Marco nodded gravely as he counted, “One, two, four, ten…”

“Good! Then off we go to the fish pond. If your mother permits?”

They both turned to Gina. She was momentarily transfixed by the burning need to make reparation being transmitted by Alex King’s vivid blue eyes. The intensity of feeling bored straight into her heart, forging an even stronger connection between them.

“Mama?”

The hopeful appeal from Marco forced her attention to him. The threat of tears had been effectively wiped out with the exciting flush of further achievement to be pursued.

“Yes, you may go,” she said, submitting to the need of the man and the moment, though she wasn’t at all sure this was the best action to take.

She watched Alex King carry her son away on a new adventure, grateful for his initiative in one sense, yet feeling hopelessly ambivalent about where this was leading. She wanted to believe…all sorts of wild things…yet surely the better solution would have been for her and Marco to leave, allowing these people to sort out their differences in private. Being the meat in their sandwich was not a happy place.

“Alessandro has a fine affinity with children,” Isabella assured her, intent on dispelling any worries she might have. “He looked after his younger brothers well when they were little boys.”

Realising she was still standing, Gina dropped back onto her chair to show she accepted Isabella’s assurance that Marco was safe with Alex. That wasn’t the problem.

“He’s very kind,” she replied, pasting a smile over her inner turbulence.

Michelle’s rage had been defused but the memory of it was not about to miraculously lift. She hoped Alex would bring Marco back soon enough for them to leave before his fiancée returned.

Though how he could marry a woman like that was beyond her comprehension. Especially if he wanted children. Admittedly, Marco wasn’t Michelle’s own child, but such a blaze of temper over a little toad, and the urge to hit…

It was wrong.

Terribly wrong.

And everything Alex King had stirred in her this afternoon made his connection to that woman feel more wrong.

The fat was in the fire and definitely sizzling, Isabella thought with deep satisfaction.

She had struck gold with Gina Terlizzi and her delightful little son. No doubt about her feelings for Alessandro and the attraction was definitely mutual. Best of all, Michelle had shown her true colours this afternoon. In fact, the manner in which both young women had conducted themselves provided such a striking contrast, her grandson would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to appreciate the differences.

He was most certainly feeling considerable discontent with Michelle.

And it wasn’t just kindness towards Gina.

But what had been achieved this afternoon could all slide away if Gina wasn’t thrust right under Alessandro’s nose again and again in relatively quick succession. The big hump was the diamond ring on Michelle’s engagement finger. Alessandro didn’t give a commitment lightly. Nor would he lightly withdraw one. It had to be broken.

Determined to strike while the iron was hot, Isabella quickly formulated a plan which she could surely manipulate to serve her purpose. “To return to business…” She let the words linger for a few moments to give Gina time to get her mind on track. “…are you free next Saturday night?”

Surprise at the early date, but eagerness to clutch at it, too. “Yes, I am, Mrs. King.”

“I’ve been thinking…a friend of my grandson, Antonio, is holding his wedding here next Saturday. I would like to do something special for him. It has been arranged for Peter Owen to play and sing. You know him?”

“Not exactly know. But I have seen him perform. He’s quite brilliant on the piano and a very professional crooner. He really sells his songs.”

“Yes. He’s very popular. But it would, I think, offer a very interesting variety if you sang a few duets with him.”

“Duets?”

“You must know ‘All I Ask of You’ from Phantom of the Opera.”

“Yes…”

“I’m sure the two of you could do that song justice. Peter could also do the backing and harmony for your ‘Because You Loved Me.’ And ‘From This Moment On’ can also be sung as a duet.”

“But…” Gina frowned uncertainly “…would he want to share his spotlight with me?”

“Peter Owen will do what I ask of him.” Whatever the financial persuader was, Isabella would pay it. “You would need to make time to rehearse with him during the week.”

“If you’re sure he…I mean, compared to him, I’m an amateur, Mrs. King.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’ll find you so.” She smiled her confidence. “Leave the arrangements to me. I’ll call you after I’ve contacted Peter. Are we agreed?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

She looked somewhat dazed but determined to pursue the opportunity. She had grit, this girl. Give her the chance and she’d go the full mile on what she believed in. At the present moment, she thought Alessandro was out of her reach, but put him within reach…

More importantly, put her within his reach.

Proximity, natural attraction, the continual contrast between what he had and what he could have, temptation…

“Peter Owen always wears white tails for his act. You would need a formal evening dress,” Isabella cautioned, hoping Gina’s wardrobe extended to something…fetching. A woman with a fine bosom could afford to show some cleavage.

“I do have one I think would be suitable,” Gina assured her.

“Good!” Isabella smiled. “All three of my grandsons will be at the wedding. I must confess I like showing off my finds to them.”

She flushed, her thick lashes sweeping down to veil a rush of anguished emotion in her eyes, but not before Isabella had glimpsed it.

“I’ll do my best to make you proud of me, Mrs. King.”

“I’m sure you will, my dear.”

And not least because Gina now knew Alessandro would be there.

Probably Michelle, too…unfortunately.

Though Isabella was counting on Gina outshining Michelle next Saturday night…in her own very appealing and extremely suitable way.