Читать книгу Husband By Contract - HELEN BROOKS, Helen Brooks - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

BY THE time Anna arrived with her lunch tray some fifteen minutes later Grace had washed her face and appeared calm, on the surface at least, but once the small maid had left she gazed down at the cannelloni ripieni—pasta rolls with a filling of meat and tomato sauce—on a bed of fresh green salad and sighed wearily.

She had thought she was past the tears, the pain, the sheer rage, but since her first step on Italian soil the past had closed round her like a dark veil. She placed the tray on a small table before lifting the large crystal wineglass and walking across to the full-length windows, opening them and stepping onto the balcony beyond, where she stood in the warm sunshine sipping the cool, fruity red wine. She was still there some twenty minutes later when Donato stepped through the billowing lace curtains.

‘You haven’t eaten a bite, have you?’ He inclined his head backwards towards the bedroom.

‘I’m not hungry.’ As she spoke she raised her chin at the condemning note in his voice and for a moment blue eyes clashed with coal-black in a battle of wills.

‘It will be of no help to anyone if you become ill.’

She didn’t know if it was the large glass of rich, potent wine on an empty stomach, the tension of the last day or two since she had received the telegram, the lack of sleep, the memories that had assailed her constantly all day, or just Donato himself in all his arrogance, but suddenly it was all she could do to hold onto her temper.

‘No, of course not; that would put a spanner in the works, wouldn’t it?’ she agreed tightly, her voice lethal. ‘My usefulness to the Vittoria empire would be severely affected if I couldn’t fulfil my role as companion to Lorenzo—’

‘Stop it!’ He took a step forward and gripped her arms with a strength that told her he was angry—very angry. ‘That was not what I meant and you know it.’

‘I know nothing of the kind, Donato.’ She didn’t flinch from his wrath, standing straight and still in front of him, her delicate, slender body held taut and her eyes blazing. ‘And please let go of me,’ she said icily. ‘I’ve told you, I won’t be mauled.’

He held her for one moment more, his face working with dark emotion, before turning abruptly aside and moving to stand with his hands resting on the thick stone wall of the balcony, his back bent and his arms outstretched. ‘Never, ever have I met such a perverse woman,’ he muttered furiously, his head bent downwards.

‘I find that hard to believe.’ Her voice wasn’t as tart as she would have liked it to be, those few seconds of being held close enough to breathe in the delicious smell of him and to feel that big, powerful body having started a reaction in her traitorous limbs she could well have done without.

She watched him take a long, hard pull of air before straightening slowly and turning to face her, his eyes hooded now and his face cold. ‘I will order another tray to be sent up and this time you will eat,’ he said slowly. ‘You understand? Dinner will not be until eight and I do not want you feeling faint; you are too thin as it is.’

‘Too thin?’ She bitterly resented the criticism and glared at him, her blue eyes sparking. He preferred Maria’s rounded curves, did he? Full-blown voluptuousness? Well, that was just too bad. ‘My weight is perfectly adequate for my height, actually,’ she said tightly, ‘and I haven’t had any complaints so far.’

Why she added that last bit she didn’t know but he certainly didn’t like it, she thought with great satisfaction as the ebony eyes iced over and his mouth thinned. How dared he? How dared he compare her with that woman?

‘Is that so?’ His voice was silky-soft but with a dangerous edge that warned her she had better say no more. ‘And what exactly does that mean, mia piccola?’ The old endearment was chilling. ‘Would you care to elaborate on that enigmatic statement?’