Читать книгу Paper Marriages - Сара Крейвен, Jacqueline Baird - Страница 6

PROLOGUE

Оглавление

PENNY ran lightly across the field, leapt over the fence into the old stable yard, and headed straight for the back door of the house. She was late and Veronica would kill her. Penny had promised to return before five to babysit her half-brother, while her stepmother went to the hairdresser. But her boss in the antique shop had been late getting back, and then Penny had bumped into her best friend, Jane Turner, the local vicar’s daughter, and Jane’s brother Simon.

Simon had just returned from a trekking holiday in the Himalayas. A year older than the girls, he was full of his experiences, and waxed lyrical about his prowess as a mountain climber. Jane was delighted because her older sister Patricia, who was married and lived in New York, was coming home on holiday next month, and bringing her new baby with her. Penny was pleased for her friends but it had delayed her even more.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Penny yelled as she dashed into the rear porch that led to the kitchen.

Veronica stood, baby James in her arms, blocking her way. ‘About time! I’m going to be late and you know how important this dinner is tonight. We have invited Mr Maffeiano and his PA, and with a bit of luck not only will Maffeiano buy the land, and solve our immediate money worries, but also he might be persuaded into going into business with Julian. It could be the making of your father, and heaven knows we need the income to keep this place up.’

It was the familiar moan, and Penny shrivelled a little inside. Veronica wasn’t a bad person; in fact, when she had first married Penny’s father Julian eighteen months ago they had got on well. It was only when Veronica had given birth to a baby boy ten months later, and begun talking of when James would inherit the estate, and her husband had disabused her of the notion, informing her Haversham Park was always left to the oldest child, irrespective of sex, that she’d changed.

Penny’s own mother had died of cancer when Penny was thirteen, and for a while her father had been depressed. But four years later he had met and married Veronica.

‘Well, take him, for heaven’s sake! I have to dash,’ Veronica snapped.

‘Sorry, Veronica,’ Penny apologised again, reaching out and taking James into her arms. She adored her brother. But, casting a glance at her stepmother, she could not help thinking uncharitably that it was amazing how quickly Veronica had lost interest in Penny, and to some extent the baby, when she’d realised her husband wasn’t as wealthy as she’d thought.

‘Sorry isn’t good enough—we really do need the money. Working in that dusty junk shop for a gap year before going to university will nowhere near cover the cost of keeping you at college for three more. Your father will have to pay. Heavens! We can’t even afford a caterer! Feed James, and put him to bed, then keep an eye on Mrs Brown’s cooking. The woman is far too old to work and she flatly refused to take James for me, saying she was too busy. The nerve of the woman.’

‘Okay,’ Penny agreed as Veronica swept out. Penny sighed with relief as she walked into the kitchen.

‘She’s gone and left you holding the baby again,’ Mrs Brown, the live-in housekeeper, remarked grimly.

‘I don’t mind.’ Penny grinned at the older woman and slipped a gurgling James into his high chair, then set about preparing his bottle and food.

“Brownie”, as Penny called her, had lived at Haversham Park since before Penny was born and Penny could not imagine the house without her. Much as Veronica complained about the woman, she had not tried to get rid of her.

However, this was probably because Brownie worked for a small salary and, more importantly, Veronica did not cook… In fact Veronica’s one aim in life, as far as Penny could see, was to look good and be part of what she called the social scene. This apparently, entailed flitting back and forward to London for dinners and charity balls.

Penny grimaced; it was a ball that was responsible for tonight’s dinner. Veronica had persuaded her father to take her to an exclusive charity event in London. As luck would have it, Veronica had bumped into an old friend of hers, a businessman, and had introduced him to Penny’s father. One thing had led to another, and apparently the man was interested in purchasing land, perhaps for a golf course. Personally Penny could not see the point but, as her father had explained, there was no money in farming any more, and they needed money. Veronica was right; this was an ideal opportunity for Julian to make some money and her father almost always bowed to what Veronica wanted, Penny thought ruefully. Who could blame him? He was a man in his fifties with a beautiful young wife and he just wanted to keep her happy.

But Penny took heart in the fact they would still keep the home she loved, a stone-built Tudor-styled house set in five acres of parkland, and she began feeding James with a smile on her face.

Once he was fed and happy, Penny left James with Brownie and set the large oak table in the dining room with the finest damask cloth and silver cutlery. Then, with a brief glance at her wrist-watch she dashed back to the kitchen.

A sleepy James stretched out his arms to her and she swept him up in hers, giving him a cuddle and a kiss. ‘Bed for you, little man,’ she murmured, and strolled out into the hall. Her foot was on the bottom step when the front door was flung open. Penny stopped and turned. Veronica was back quick.

‘Ah, Penelope and my favourite boy.’ Her smiling father walked towards her.

Oh, my God! She stifled a groan. The guests had arrived early, over two hours early by Penny’s reckoning!

Solo Maffeiano entered the hall, and wondered what the hell he was doing here. Two nights ago he had spent a couple of hours of inventive sex with Lisa, his occasional mistress in New York. She was a lawyer, she knew the score and was very accommodating.

In a way it was her fault he was here now. On a previous date with Lisa months ago, he had been flicking through a year-old magazine while he’d waited to be picked up for the airport. The centre-fold picture of a wedding had attracted his attention: the marriage of Veronica Jones to a much older minor English aristocrat, Julian Haversham.

Solo had laughed out loud as he had known the lady seven years before, not in the biblical sense, but it had not been for the want of trying on her part. Veronica had been the girlfriend of an Arab business associate of his when they had spent a week cruising the Greek Islands. Bridal material she was not!

But the picture of the bridesmaid, the daughter of the groom, had caught his eye. The Honourable Penelope Haversham was a beauty, with pale blonde hair and milky white skin, and an innocent, almost fey quality about the small, slender figure that had intrigued him.

He had met Veronica and her new husband at a charity ball in London a couple of weeks back. Now following his PA Tina down the hall, he realised he should have taken her advice and had nothing to do with the proposition Veronica was pushing, the purchase of farming land and possibly a joint leisure development. If the house were included it might have been viable. But it would be sacrilege to alter it. It was a beautiful example of Tudor architecture, and Solo appreciated works of art. His hobby was collecting rare objects; his home in Italy was a treasure trove of objets d’art.

Probably because he had been brought up in the back streets of Naples with a whore for a grandmother and a mother who’d followed in the family tradition! He was the result of an American sailor’s fling with his mother. He was named Saul after him but the name was quickly bastardised to Solo, and by the time he was ten he’d been on his own.

There was very little he had not seen and done. But blessed with a brilliant mind and a quick tongue, he had never fallen foul of the law. He had worked and acquired a formal education whenever he’d had the time and opportunity, ultimately graduating with honours in economics. But privately he acknowledged the economics of poverty and the street had proved to be a much more valuable lesson, when dealing with the upper echelons of international finance.

At thirty-four he was a success. Wealthy beyond most people’s wildest dreams, he was a whiz at playing the markets and had also invested heavily in property around the world. He could have any woman he wanted without really trying. So why was he wasting his valuable time on the off chance of seeing the girl from the picture? He wondered, his lips twisting in a self-derogatory smile.

Then he saw her, and he stopped dead. The picture did not begin to do her justice.

Penny held James a little more securely and, putting a brave face on it, she said, ‘You’re early, Daddy. I’m just going to put James to bed.’ Her father was a tall, slender man, with white hair and brown eyes, and she loved him to bits.

‘Not to worry, darling. Come and let me introduce you to our guests.’

Penny’s glance skimmed over two people. A redheaded woman and a tall man, half hidden behind her father.

‘My daughter Penelope.’ Her father stepped aside and smiled at the couple, before glancing back at Penny. ‘Solo Maffeiano, and his PA Tina Jenson, our guests this evening. It was such a lovely afternoon we decided to come down early and conduct our business here rather than in a London office.’

The woman was tall and elegant. ‘How do you do?’ Penny said politely. ‘I hope you will excuse me not shaking hands, but as you can see my arms are full.’

Penny looked up at the other guest with a polite smile on her face, and her heart quite inexplicably began thumping against her ribs. She simply stared, struck dumb by the sheer dynamic presence of the man.

Solo Maffeiano was the most devastatingly attractive man she had ever seen. He was wearing a tailored lightweight grey suit that fitted his elegant frame to perfection. He was well over six feet tall with wide shoulders that tapered down to lean hips and long legs. He was olive-skinned with thick black curling hair, his eyes were a piercing grey, his nose straight. His perfectly sculptured lips were curved in a smile over brilliant white teeth.

‘Delighted to meet you, Penelope,’ Solo husked. She was a vision of feminine perfection with a baby in her arms, and Solo felt an instant reaction in the groin area. It had not happened like that for him in years.

Her hair was fair, and it fell long and straight down her back like fine silk. Her petite features held a perfect symmetry, her lips full and sensually curved. Her eyes were a stunning green but darkening to deep jade as she watched him, the lashes thick and curling, and he noted the tinge of pink on her cheeks.

He knew the effect he had on women and for the most part ignored it, but he felt a stab of savage masculine pride that this dainty creature before him reacted so helplessly. In that instant he decided he wanted her, and he was a man who always got what he wanted.

Penny finally found her tongue. ‘And you, Mr Maffeiano.’ She swallowed hard.

‘Please call me Solo.’ He smiled again, and she was mesmerised.

‘Solo,’ she breathed his name, and at that moment young James decided he did not like his sister’s attention diverted from himself, and grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged.

‘Oh, you little devil,’ she cried at the swift stab of pain, bringing her back to reality with a jolt, but she was grateful to James. It had stopped her staring at the man like a besotted fool. ‘Come on, it’s bed for you.’ With the briefest glance at the others, she murmured, ‘Excuse me.’

But before she could turn Solo Maffeiano reached out one elegant finger and slid it gently down James’s chubby cheek.

‘I hope you know how lucky you are, boy, with a beautiful girl to take you to bed.’

James gurgled happily and reached a chubby hand out to the man and the others all laughed. Penny shot a startled glance at the dark stranger, and blushed scarlet. She saw the knowing amusement lurking in his silver eyes; he knew exactly how he affected her. How he affected every woman he met, she thought, reality clicking in. He was a sophisticated, handsome beast—add wealth and power, and he had it all. He was way out of her league, she told herself, turning to her father and gripping James like a lifeline.

‘See you later, Daddy. Veronica is not back yet, and I must get James to bed.’ She was babbling, she knew, but she needed to get away from Solo Maffeiano and the peculiar feelings, the tension he aroused in her. ‘I’ll see you all at dinner,’ she said and almost ran up the stairs.

Lying in the bath later when James was safely tucked up in bed, Penny told herself she had overreacted. Solo Maffeiano was just a man like any other. It had been shock at the early arrival of the guests that had made her react so oddly.

It was almost eight when Penny made her way back downstairs. She had herself firmly under control—she was nearly nineteen. no longer a giddy teenager prone to blush if a boy so much as looked at her.

Her grin vanished as she walked into the drawing room for a pre-dinner drink.

Conversation stopped dead and four pairs of eyes turned to look at her.

‘Really, Penny, you must learn to be punctual. I said seven-thirty for eight.’ Veronica’s opening comment had her stuttering for a response.

Her father’s ‘Leave the child alone, you know how Penny adores playing with James and she loses all track of time,’ and brief smile before he looked around the other three did nothing for her self-esteem.

Tina Jenson smiled politely at Penny, and turned back to Solo Maffeiano.

But he simply ignored everyone else and crossed the room to Penny. His cool grey eyes flicked over the mass of fair hair she had swept up and knotted on top of her head, roamed down over her small face, her elegant neck and slender shoulders, and lingered on the boat neckline of her dress that revealed the soft curve of her surprisingly luscious breasts. His intent gaze dropped lower to the indentation of her waist, flat stomach, and down to where her straight skirt skimmed her slim hips and ended some two inches above her knees, right down to where her small feet were encased in high-heeled black sandals.

‘You look beautiful, well worth waiting for,’ he said with casual charm, taking her arm, ‘And your father must be blind if he thinks you’re a child,’ he drawled huskily so only she could hear.

The touch of his fingers on her bare flesh seemed to burn through to the bone. Penny felt a wild heat surge through her body, and she did not know what had hit her.

Dinner was torture to Penny, although she persuaded Brownie to pretend her arthritis was bad so that Penny could do the serving.

Brownie gave her a quizzical look. ‘Your stepmother won’t like that.’

‘Tough, I don’t want to be stuck listening to boring business all night.’

A few minutes later Penny walked back into the dining room, carrying a tray, with the first course, melon and Parma ham.

‘Where is Mrs Brown?’ Veronica demanded curtly.

‘Her arthritis is bothering her so I offered to help.’

‘The trouble is good help is so hard to find when you live in a backwater like this,’ Veronica began as Julian dealt with the wine.

Thirty miles or so outside Cambridge, the village was small, but it was also only about ninety minutes’ drive into London, so hardly the back of beyond, Penny thought dryly as she put the plates on the table and took a seat next to Tina. Only then did Solo Maffeiano sit down directly facing her.

‘I can imagine,’ Tina Jenson drawled in agreement, while Penny kept her head down and tried to eat. ‘But if Solo does decide to invest in the place I’m sure he will have no trouble finding staff. He never does,’ Tina concluded with a smile at her boss.

Penny’s head shot up at the words, and with a horrified glance at the man opposite, ‘But the house is not for sale,’ she blurted.

Solo leaned back in his chair, his silver gaze sweeping slowly over the delicate beauty of her features. He caught the tightening of her lush mouth, the tension she could not quite hide, before he captured her gaze with his own.

‘Isn’t that up to your father to decide?’ he asked smoothly. ‘After all, you’re a very attractive young woman, some man is bound to snap you up before long.’ One ebony brow arched enquiringly. ‘Or are you already committed to some lucky man?’

Penelope heard her father’s soft chuckle, and felt herself the object of all eyes around the table, and colour surged in her cheeks. ‘No,’ she responded quietly, ‘to both your questions,’ she concluded with a brief flare of resentment she could not quite disguise. Solo was deliberately needling her. She might be young, but she could recognise a chauvinistic statement when she heard one.

‘Penelope is right,’ Veronica piped up, supposedly in support of Penny, but then she went on to describe how Penelope stood to inherit the house. As Julian’s wife Veronica only had the right to live in it, never own it, as did baby James.

Incredibly hurt by Veronica’s implication that Penny was likely to throw her stepmother and brother out, she leapt to her feet, and whipped around the table collecting the plates. It was some consolation to hear her father say firmly, ‘That is not quite true Veronica, I could sell if I wanted to, but I don’t. Havershams have lived here for three hundred years, and always will as far as I’m concerned. And I have not the least doubt Penelope would share everything with her family. We Havershams always do.’

Penelope slanted her father a grateful smile for sticking up for her, and shot off to the kitchen without another word.

For the rest of the meal she kept quiet and listened. But keeping her eyes from straying to the handsome man opposite was not such an easy feat. She couldn’t help but look at him. Solo Maffeiano’s voice was deep and melodious, his English had the slightest trace of an Italian accent, and his easy wit as the conversation flowed held her enthralled. But when Veronica started name-dropping shamelessly as she described the house party she and Julian were going to attend that weekend at Lord Somerton’s, Penny had had enough.

She glimpsed the cynical smile on Solo Maffeiano’s face, saw the contempt in his grey eyes, and she cringed. Looking down at the table, she placed her napkin by her plate before rising to her feet and declaring brightly to no one in particular, ‘I’ll go and get the coffee.’ She couldn’t get away fast enough.

‘I’ll help you,’ Solo Maffeiano declared smoothly.

‘No, no, please, you’re a guest,’ Penny flung over her shoulder as she scuttled out of the room and into the kitchen.

Breathing deeply, Penny crossed to the bench where the coffee percolator stood. Brownie had gone to bed, but she had left the tray, and the coffee on, bless her!

Not long now and Penny could make her own escape. She grasped the edge of the bench to steady her shaking nerves. What a meal! She had never felt so aware, so disturbed by a member of the opposite sex in her life. Solo Maffeiano had the power to make her heart shake with only a glance from his pale eyes, and she wasn’t sure she liked it.

Sighing, she turned, only to freeze at the sight of the man in question strolling towards her. ‘What are you doing here? I told you I don’t need any help,’ she snapped.

He didn’t immediately answer. Instead he stopped and captured both her hands in his and very slowly folded them behind her back, bringing her into intimate contact with his tall frame. A shiver rippled through her as her breasts pressed against his broad chest, her slender legs trapped against the strength of hard, masculine thighs. She tried to wriggle free, then gasped as she felt the stirring of his mighty body and its blatant masculine sign of passion.

A mixture of innocent embarrassment and not so innocent helpless heated arousal caused a tide of pink to sweep up over her face. Penny stared up at him and was paralysed by the blinding flame of desire in his eyes, her heart hammering against her chest so hard she could hardly breathe. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before.

‘What I have ached to do since the minute I set eyes on you,’ Solo declared, and smiled a slow, soft curve of his firm mouth. His dark head bent and too late she realised the danger she was in.

‘No,’ Penny gasped at the same time as his mouth covered hers. She had been kissed before, not very often, and never like this, was her last conscious thought.

The sexy male scent of him filled her nostrils, a hot, liquid sensation flowed through her body making her breasts tingle, and heat pool at the junction of her thighs, and his mouth! His mouth moved on hers with a soft, sensual pleasure, his tongue darting between parted lips, gently then fiercely plundering the hot, sweet interior in an erotic, wonderful kiss that quickly flared out of control.

Solo groaned and, freeing her hands, he slipped his own firmly around her waist, holding her in intimate contact with his hard body.

Penny felt his other hand sweep up under her breasts and cup the aching fullness in his palm. Her slender body arched into him as his thumb stroked across the tip of her breast, bringing the tender nipple into a rigid peak against the fabric of her dress. ‘Don’t.’ Her voice was a shocked murmur, verging on a moan.

Solo lifted his head, taking a swift breath. Dio! The girl was dynamite—he had come perilously close to forgetting where he was, and that had never happened to him before. He needed to tread warily and, wrapping his arms around her, he hugged her. ‘I knew it would be like this between us.’ He stepped back and released her.

Penny gazed bemusedly up at him. She lifted a hand to her full lips. ‘You… we…’ she stammered. She couldn’t say kissed, she didn’t have the breath. Solo Maffeiano; this incredibly attractive, virile man had kissed her, touched her. It felt more as if she had been hit by lightning. Powerful and sophisticated Solo, and yet she could have sworn she’d heard him groan as well.

‘Us, you mean,’ Solo amended throatily. ‘And there is going to be an us. But not here and not now. The others are waiting for their coffee.’ He slipped an arm around her waist to steady her. His eyes, dark as slate, stared down into hers and he saw her shock and confusion and knew she was exactly what he wanted. Innocent, well bred and maternal, she was perfect wife material. To a man who had everything, and had never considered marriage before, the thought of a wife and possibly a child suddenly held strong appeal. ‘How old are you, Penelope?’ he asked softly.

‘Nineteen in September,’ she answered without thinking.

‘I’m thirty-four, a lot older than you.’ And a hell of a lot more experienced, but Solo did not say it. He did not want to frighten her off. She was like a perfect rosebud slowly unfurling. She came alive in his arms, all heat and light and totally unconscious of her potent sensuality.

‘Not too old,’ she murmured, her fingers curling into his shirt.

He chuckled. ‘Good, Penelope, hold that thought, but for the moment coffee.’ He ran a soothing hand up and down her spine. Then, cupping her face in his strong hands, he smiled into her eyes and gently kissed the tip of her nose.

‘You get the coffee, I’ll carry the tray, my hands are steadier than yours are.’ And smoothing a few stray tendrils of hair back from her face, he added, ‘There—no one will ever guess I have been seducing you in the kitchen.’

‘It was only a kiss.’ Penny finally managed to speak almost steadily, embarrassed by her headlong capitulation to his overpowering male sexuality.

His slate-grey eyes hardened on her slight, tense frame with a narrow intensity that made her shiver. ‘Don’t pretend with me, Penelope. The sexual chemistry between us is intense, you know it… accept it, and I promise you won’t be disappointed.’

Their eyes met and meshed and something indefinable passed between them.

‘Yes,’ Penny murmured.

Solo’s deep chest heaved and he stepped back a couple of paces. He had her, he thought exultantly. ‘I won’t rush you, Penelope, except for the coffee!’ he added teasingly to lighten the atmosphere.

Walking behind Solo into the dining room, she had to battle to keep down the blush that threatened, convinced the others must know what they had been doing, but no one noticed.

Later she was stu

nned as they all stood at the front door saying their goodbyes and Solo managed to arrange to come back in two days’ time—Saturday—the only time he had free to look over the land, and Penny was to be his guide, because of course her parents and James were going to a house party.

Later, lying in bed going over the events of the evening, she touched her lips and felt again the pressure of Solo’s mouth. It had really happened, and she was seeing him on Saturday. She went to sleep with wild dreams of an erotic weekend ahead.

Solo guided the car through the country lanes deep in thought. Once he hit the motorway heading back towards London he turned to Tina. ‘Tomorrow send flowers, and an expensive piece of jewellery to Lisa Brunton in New York with a suitable note ending the arrangement. I won’t be seeing her again. You know the address.’ His decision was made: he was going to marry Penelope Haversham, but first he had to cut all ties with his past liaisons.

‘Good idea. I can imagine the dollar signs in her eyes,’ Tina agreed.

Saturday morning Penny opened the door to Solo Maffeiano and stared. He was wearing a blue checked shirt, and blue jeans hung low on his hips and moulded his long legs like a second skin. He carried an overnight bag in one hand, and, when she dared to look up into his face, a spasm of sensation clenched her stomach sending her pulse rate flying.

Solo dropped his bag and swept her into his arms. A long kiss later with her head swimming and her legs shaking, he finally set her free.

It was a weekend out of time. Penny introduced him to Mrs Brown, and Brownie insisted on accompanying them when Penny showed him to the room that had been prepared for him.

‘I see we really do have a chaperone,’ Solo said with a rueful grin when they finally walked out of the house ten minutes later, and got in the car. ‘Not that I’m objecting—it is good to know you have been properly looked after.’

She shot him a surprised glance; it seemed an odd thing for him to say. Old-fashioned, but rather honourable, and her happiness ratio went up another notch.

They parked the car at the pub in the village, and walked across the fields. Solo was a fascinating companion. He told her of his travels around the world, and his home in Italy that he managed to go to as often as he could, but not as often as he would like. He made her laugh, and she made him climb over stiles, and hike for miles. But in between they exchanged brief and not so brief kisses, and he continued to tease her sexily until she was unable to think straight.

By the time they sat down to dinner that night, under Brownie’s beady eye, Penny knew she was in love for the first time in her life.

Penny leaned over the crib and marvelled at the baby boy. ‘He’s beautiful—he’s going to grow up to be a stunningly handsome man,’ she told the doting mother, Patricia, her friend Jane’s sister who had arrived from New York the day before. ‘Though maybe not as handsome as Solo,’ she sighed dreamily. Solo was never out of her thoughts—it had been the most perfect five weeks of her life.

‘You are besotted with that man.’ Jane laughed. ‘You mention his name just about every other sentence.’

‘I’m not that bad. Am I?’ Penny queried with a grin.

‘Do I smell romance in the air, Penny?’ Patricia interjected, touching the baby’s head. ‘He is asleep,’ she murmured before sitting down next to Penny on the sofa.

‘Maybe.’ Penny blushed; she could not help it.

‘And you should see him, Patricia,’ Jane cut in. ‘Tall, dark and handsome does not cover it, add rich and he is every girl’s dream.’

Patricia gave Penny a searching look. ‘He sounds too good to be true. I hope you’re being careful,’ she went on bluntly. ‘You don’t want to end up another statistic in the unmarried mothers list.’

Chance would be a fine thing, Penny thought wistfully. Solo had taken her out every weekend, and she had just about offered herself on a plate. But he had a lot more self-control than she did. He always called a halt before they went too far. She admired him for his strong principle, but it did not stop her aching in bed every night.

‘He is not like that,’ Penny defended. ‘He respects me.’

‘My, my,’ Patricia drawled teasingly. ‘The boy must be a paragon of virtue, if he does not want to get into your knickers.’

‘Please.’ Penny blushed scarlet again. ‘It is not like that.’

‘Unless of course he is a virgin like yourself,’ Patricia offered with a grin.

Jane spluttered, ‘He is no boy, and I’d bet my life savings he is no virgin,’ and went off into paroxysms of laughter.

Penny had never thought of Solo with another woman, but Jane’s words forced her to. Solo was a healthy, virile male, a lot older than she was; he was bound to have dated, even loved other women, and it hurt.

‘Do you mind?’ Penny snapped. ‘It is not a joke. Solo is the man I am going to marry.’

‘What?’ Jane exclaimed, her laughter vanishing. ‘The hunk has actually asked you?’

‘Well, almost,’ Penny amended, and did what she had been dying to do all week—she confided her secret hope to Jane and Patricia. ‘When Solo came down last Saturday, he had a talk with my father, but then his PA called him and he had to leave suddenly. But when I saw Solo out to his car, he said he had something very important to ask me when he got back. Plus all week my father has been grinning at me, as if he knows something I don’t.’ The relief at being able to share her excitement with her friends was heady. ‘Solo telephoned me yesterday. He is coming back tomorrow, and he has planned a special dinner in London for the two of us. What else could it all mean?’ she asked, turning sparkling eyes on her friends.

‘If you are right, this is serious,’ Patricia said bluntly. ‘You’re only eighteen.’

‘I’m nineteen next week,’ Penny said swiftly.

‘Even so, I thought you were going to Cambridge University with Jane.’

Shamefaced, Penny turned to Jane. ‘I know we are booked into the halls of residence together for the first year, but I really do love him.’ Then as another thought occurred to her a smile lightened her eyes, and she added, ‘Though maybe I can still go to university. Solo has his work, and he has to go abroad a lot. We haven’t discussed it, but we could probably live between here and Cambridge.’

‘Wait a minute.’ Patricia adopted her older-sister mode, hands on hips. ‘What’s his name? Where did you meet him? And what exactly does he do?’

‘His name is Solo Maffeiano, he is an Italian businessman and he is gorgeous,’ Penny began enthusiastically. ‘And I met him when Daddy invited him down on business. Daddy has sold him some of the farmland to develop, I think.’ But business was not Penny’s interest, Solo was, and she lifted her head, smiling, but was stunned by the look of horror on Patricia’s face.

‘Solo Maffeiano. The Solo Maffeiano?’

‘That’s his name,’ Penny said cautiously, a sense of unease curling her stomach. ‘Why, do you know him?’

‘I’ve met him once in New York. He’s tall, dark and very handsome but I know a lot about him. He dated Lisa, a partner in my husband’s law firm, for months. Lisa was madly in love with him and she thought he would marry her, so she was heartbroken when he finished with her four weeks ago.’

‘It can’t be the same man,’ Penny said stoutly. She had known him five weeks!

‘There could not be two Solo Maffeianos in the world. His financial acumen and his prowess with woman are legend.’

‘Yes, there could.’ Penny clung onto the hope.

‘Penny, the man is in the same line of business.’

‘Well, even if it is the same man, maybe he realised he didn’t truly love your friend. That is not his fault,’ she said, trying to defend Solo.

‘If that was all, maybe not,’ Patricia said soberly. ‘But when Lisa received a goodbye gift of roses and a diamond pin, she called him and discovered he had not even sent them but his PA. Tina Jenson. How low is that?’

Penny felt her heart shrivel in her chest at the mention of Tina Jenson. Patricia was right—it had to be the same Solo. ‘Maybe he didn’t have time,’ she said faintly, but she was clutching at straws and she knew it.

‘Oh, you poor kid, Penny. What have you got into? According to Lisa, Solo Maffeiano is a ruthless, powerful man. Nobody knows much about his early years, just that he had made his first million by the time he was twenty-two, and nobody asks too closely how! In fact, rumour has it Tina, his American PA, is his permanent lover. The only reason they are not married is she has a husband tucked away somewhere who won’t divorce her.’

Penny felt the blood drain from her face. ‘No. I don’t believe it.’

‘Penny, you’re young,’ Patricia said gently ‘Maybe you’re right and Solo Maffeiano is totally genuine in his feelings for you, but the man is too old for you. Give yourself time. Don’t be rushed into marriage. You said Solo has bought some of your father’s land. How do you know he is not after the house and park as well?’

‘No… I don’t know, but he is not too old for me.’ she ended defiantly, wishing she had never come to visit Jane today and never heard Patricia’s denouncement of Solo.

‘Do me a favour, Penny. If Maffeiano does ask you to marry him, take your time before making a decision. You are an intelligent girl, with your whole future before you, a pedigree a mile long, and you stand to inherit a very desirable property.’

‘Rubbish, nobody cares about things like that any more,’ Penny exploded.

‘Your stepmother Veronica does, and I think a man like Solo Maffeiano does as well. Promise me, before you do anything drastic you will at least start at university.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ Penny murmured in a very subdued voice.

‘If the man loves you, Penny, he won’t mind.’

‘Who loves our little Penny?’ Simon burst into the room. ‘Besides me,’ he teased. Tall, tanned with blond hair, he grinned at the three women.

‘Oh, shut up, Simon and get out,’ Jane snapped.

Penny got to her feet. ‘No.’ She glanced at Simon. ‘Stay. I have to go.’

‘I’ll see you out.’ Jane jumped up, and, once in the hall of the vicarage, Jane put an arm around Penny’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry about university or me. Talk to Solo—I’m sure it will be fine. You know Patricia, she always was a terrible gossip. You don’t have to believe everything she tells you.’

The sun was shining, it was a beautiful warm September afternoon, but to Penny the world had turned grey as she set off walking through the village, a deep frown marring her lovely features. She needed to think, and, turning, she trekked across the fields towards home.

Solo with another woman. She examined the thought and she didn’t like it. He had finished with the woman within a week of meeting Penny, which she could just about get over. But what Patricia had said about Tina Jenson she could not dismiss quite so easily. Penny had only met the woman once, and she had taken Tina’s position as Solo’s PA at face value.

Solo had hinted to Penny he wanted to marry her, and she would stake her life on him being sincere. She loved him with all her heart. Was she really going to let Patricia’s vague rumours and gossip spoil the love and trust she had in Solo?

No, she finally decided with the optimism of youth. Tomorrow Solo would be here and everything would be fine, and, holding that thought, she hurried on home.

Penny saw the black car as soon as she walked around the corner of the house. It was Solo’s—he had come back early, and her confidence in his love rose sky high. She heard voices as she passed the open window of the drawing room, and paused. But it was the ‘Solo, darling really!’ that stopped her in her tracks.

She leant against the warm stone wall beneath the window, unable to move, and for once grateful for her lack of height. She had only heard the voice once before but it was unmistakably Tina Jenson.

‘I have seen the amount of money you have paid for the land, and it’s not worth it on its own. What are you up to?’

‘It s a good long-term investment, and I’m thinking of going into a partnership,’ Solo responded smoothly.

‘I don’t believe you. You always work alone.’ Tina paused, then added, ‘But then it’s not like you to buy a lump of land. With the house and park, yes, I could understand. The building is historic, and with work could be turned into a luxury hotel. But even so the place is shabby, and it would cost a fortune to renovate. No, I have known you too long… You are up to something, Solo.’ She ended with a chuckle.

Penny’s spine stiffened, her pride in her home coming to the fore, and she waited for Solo to deny Tina’s words.

‘You obviously don’t know me that well,’ Solo opined, ‘or you would know I have every intention of refurbishing this place and going into a partnership, but not necessarily with Julian Haversham. You seem to have overlooked the delightful Penelope, and it is about time I settled down.’

‘What? Seduce the daughter? That child.’ Tina laughed out loud. ‘So she will go along with your plan for the house!’

Numb with shock and totally humiliated, Penny sank to her knees on the hard ground. She wanted to put her hands over her ears but a masochistic desire to know the worst made her hold back her cry of despair, and she made herself listen.

‘Come off it, Solo, you can be ruthless in business, but you’re not the type to seduce a young girl. Penny Haversham is lovely, but she is the kind a man has to marry, and I can’t see you doing that. Solo by name, Solo by nature. You like your women to know the score. Sex without commitment. I should know. I have sent the flowers and picked out the jewellery often enough.’

‘True, but only because you are much more sensitive to a woman’s needs in that area,’ Solo drawled with mocking amusement. ‘But maybe I’ve reached an age when I want something different. A loving wife and a son or two holds strong appeal.’

‘Oh, sure, a malleable little wife while you do what you like. I can see the appeal, but I hate to tell you, Solo, young girls have a nasty habit of growing up, and Penelope Haversham is no fool; unworldly, yes, but to get a place at Cambridge University she has to have a brain,’ she said cynically. ‘And have you thought of how you would explain our relationship to a wife? She would need to be enormously broad-minded,’ she ended with a laugh.

‘Nothing would change between you and I,’ Solo said with a responsive chuckle. ‘You don’t need to worry on that score. I’ll always love you…’

Patricia had been right, and, sick to her soul, Penny did not stop to hear more, but scuttled back around the corner of the house. Her eyes swimming in tears, blindly she ran and ran back over the fields and finally collapsed in her secret place, beneath a huge willow by the river.

Fighting to breathe, her body racked with gigantic shudders. She cried until there were no tears left. Her throat was sore and aching, but was nothing like the ache in her heart. Still the words of Solo and Tina, their shared laughter, echoed in her head like some horrific nightmare that would not go away. Her dreams of love and marriage completely shattered—it had just been an illusion created by the deceit of one man.

Solo had considered marrying her; in that she had been right. But he did not want her, did not love her, never had. It had all been a sophisticated game, a plan to acquire her acceptance for the changes in store at Haversham Park, and as the knowledge sank into her tortured mind she heard her heart break.

Penny slipped from her hiding place and stared at the softly flowing water, and wanted to die; she could not bear the pain. Lifting her head, she looked up at the clear blue sky, the only sound an occasional bird song and the gentle flow of the water over the stones. But as she stood there with the water swirling around her the familiar beauty of the place touched her soul, and she realised life was too precious to let a womanising devil of a man like Solo Maffeiano destroy her.

Slowly Penny walked back across the fields towards the vicarage. She couldn’t go home yet… She could not face Solo.

She needed to build up her courage to dump the swine, and face her father. She could not bear the thought of him actually going into business with Maffeiano, and selling the house even though he had every right to do so, and if her rejection of Solo spoilt her dad’s plans, tough… But she could see Veronica’s hand behind this.

Penny consoled herself with the thought that at least her father had got the money for the land. He and Veronica would have to be happy with that. She was almost at the front door of the vicarage when it flew open and Simon appeared.

‘What the hell happened to you?’ he demanded. ‘You look as though you have been dragged through a hedge backwards.’

Penny looked up into his friendly face and she could not help it, she threw herself into his arms. ‘Oh, Simon, Patricia was right about the man I thought loved me—he doesn’t at all. I am in a hell of a mess, and I dare not face Solo Maffeiano.’

‘Hey, don’t be upset. Your honorary brother is here to help.’ His strong arms closed firmly around her, and he tilted her chin up to his. ‘Jane told me you were involved with a man.’

‘Not any more—I never want to see him again,’ Penny said bitterly.

‘This Solo wouldn’t be a tall, dark, good-looking dude…?

‘Yes, why?’

‘He’s walking up the drive, probably looking for you. Follow my lead and your troubles will be over. He looks the jealous type. Kiss me and make it look good. Then tell him you were waiting for me, your boyfriend.’ Simon pressed his lips to hers and Penny wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him…

Paper Marriages

Подняться наверх