Читать книгу The Italian's Baby Bargain: The Italian's Wedding Ultimatum / The Italian's Forced Bride / The Mancini Marriage Bargain - Ким Лоренс, Kate Walker - Страница 7

A FLASHBACK implied that you’d lost sense of your surroundings, but for Alessandro it was more a sense of dislocation, of being in two places at the same time.

Like today—in the here and now he was saying something that made the plastic blonde girl giggle, while simultaneously he was back on the dark road of that night, pressing the brakes and feeling no response.

The only outward evidence of what was happening to him was the sheen of sweat across his brow.

He could hear the blonde listing her favourite haunts. The flickering images always followed the same rigid sequence. He knew that the next one involved being pretty sure he was going to die.

‘I don’t go to nightclubs,’ he replied, when she finally asked his own preference.

She could have looked no more shocked had he confided a predilection for women’s underwear. Alessandro might have laughed had he not been calling on every skill he had, and then some he didn’t, in a futile attempt to control the car. Knowing as he did so that nothing he could do would affect the outcome.

Looking at the card scrawled with a number, he nodded and murmured an ironic, ‘You’re very kind,’ as his guts tightened in anticipation of the car launching itself into space.

Then the blonde was gone, and so was the car, and they were falling on and on. He could hear the high-pitched female scream that seemed to go on for ever, and then the screech of metal as it ripped and tore. The foul stench of petrol filled his flared nostrils.

Wiping a hand across his damp brow, he looked across the room and saw Samantha Maguire on the point of stepping through the French windows with his brother-in-law. Watching the couple slip outside, Alessandro narrowed his eyes in speculative anger. Did they think nobody had noticed?

Maybe conducting their illicit relationship under the very nose of Katerina added spice? Or maybe the redhead wanted to be discovered?

In his head there was silence, an eerie silence broken finally by his own voice calling to his parents, asking, ‘Are you all right?’

Imprisoned in his seat, he could only imagine why there was no reply to the question he kept repeating, and all the time he had the knowledge that it would take only one spark and the car and its contents would become a raging inferno.

Dawn had been breaking before the first rescuers had arrived.

Alessandro had still been in hospital when the inquest was held. And, thanks to the irritating intransigence of the surgeon responsible for uniting the shattered fragments of bone in his right leg, he had been banned from attending.

His personality was such that going against expert opinion did not normally present him with an obstacle. Alessandro’s problem on that occasion was that the expert advice he wanted to flout came from the man who had saved his leg when the general consensus of medical opinion had been that the mangled limb was beyond saving. He figured that following his advice was the least he owed the man who had operated not once but three times to give him back his mobility.

The inquest had gone ahead in his absence, and had resulted in the total recall of a series of high-performance cars, all of which had shared the faulty braking system discovered in the one that had plunged off the side of the mountain with him at the wheel. The fact that no blame for the fatal accident had been assigned to him personally, that in fact the crash investigators had said nothing he could have done would have prevented the car going over, did not lessen the responsibility that Alessandro felt for the death of his parents.

He had relived the disastrous moments innumerable times since, sure that if he had done something differently his parents would still be alive. Not that it was in his nature to waste time indulging his survivor guilt. He’d had a sister to bring up—a sister who, thanks to him, had no parents.

His chiselled jaw tightened as, without waiting for his heart-rate to return to normal, he made his way towards the terrace doors. The expression on his face made several people get out of his way.

It was time to issue a warning—a warning that was long overdue. And if Miss Maguire knew what was good for her she would take notice. If not? Well, that was her decision. For his part, Alessandro had no doubts concerning his ability to make her see things his way.

The terrace was empty because, despite the brilliant April sunshine, the fluffy white clouds and the expanse of daffodils on the wide green lawns, the wind held a bone-biting chill.

Sam shivered as the wind cut through the beige linen suit she wore. The skirt length and A-line cut didn’t do her petite, narrow-hipped and high-bosomed frame any favours. As her mother had pointed out earlier, she should never, ever wear beige as it made her look drained and haggard.

Sam had agreed. And of course since then she had felt drained and haggard.

‘God, I’m going to get hypothermia,’ she said, hugging her arms around herself as a particularly harsh gust of wind cut through the fabric. ‘Couldn’t you say what you needed to say inside?’

‘Here.’

Sam looked from the envelope he had thrust into her hand to Jonny’s solemn face. ‘What’s this?’ she asked, making no attempt to open it. She knew what it was.

He ran a hand through his disordered fair curls, and the familiar gesture made Sam’s heart ache. ‘I said I’d repay the loan, Sam,’ he reminded her.

‘And I said there was no hurry, Jonny,’ she returned quietly, hating the way his eyes slid from hers. ‘I don’t need the money. It’s just sitting there in the bank.’ The amount of money that worldwide sales of the Angela’s Cat series made was shockingly large, and Sam’s tastes were pretty simple. And in a funny way she owed her success to Jonny.

Without Jonny she would never have felt the need to escape, and she might never have discovered that writing was the perfect way to do so. In which case the chances were her children’s story might never have been anything more than a few pages lying forgotten in the back of a drawer. And she might still be working as a supply teacher.

‘You helped me out of a sticky spot, and for that, Sam, I’ll be eternally grateful. But,’ he said, closing her fingers around the envelope, ‘this is yours. And thanks to you Kat isn’t going to know how close to bankrupt I was.’

Sam gave a worried frown and hoped Jonny’s male pride wasn’t making him repay the loan before he could afford to. But, aware she couldn’t do much about it, she reluctantly shoved the envelope into her pocket. ‘Well, you know what I think, Jonny.’

‘That I should have told Kat I was on the verge of bankruptcy.’ He shook his fair head and gave a grim laugh. ‘Leave it, Sam. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I had to borrow that money.’

‘But your grandmother’s legacy—’ Sam protested.

‘Paid for the initial investment,’ he slotted in. ‘And I needed money to expand.’

‘Why expand?’

Jonny’s features settled into obstinate lines. ‘I couldn’t expect Kat to be a shopkeeper’s wife.’

Sam shook her head in exasperation. ‘For the record, I think you’re a total idiot. Your wife is rich, and her brother is—’

Jonny ran an unsteady hand over his cleanshaven jaw and interrupted. ‘Her brother is Alessandro Di Livio. That’s the whole point, Sam. He’s worth billions, and I—’

‘Kat knew you weren’t a billionaire when she married you,’ she interrupted impatiently.

His blue eyes slid from hers. ‘How could I tell a girl like Kat that I was taking less out of the shop in a year than she spends on shoes in a month? Her brother has always given her everything she wants before she even asks. She worships him,’ he gritted, unable to conceal the envy in his voice as he added dourly, ‘And, let’s face it, Alessandro is perfect.’

An image of a dark, patrician face flashed into her head, and Sam was unable to voice the denial she would have liked. Physically at least he was about as close to perfect as you could get. If your idea of perfect happened to be six feet five of lean, toned muscle, flashing dark eyes, a sinfully sensual mouth, cheekbones that you could cut yourself on and an aristocratic profile. His gorgeous Mediterranean colouring presumably went all over…

She stopped, alarm filtering into her expression. Mentally undressing the man twice within the space of half an hour was not a good development.

Well, gorgeous body or not, he wasn’t Sam’s idea of perfect. But she accepted that on this she was in the minority. However, it didn’t take a great leap to see how a creature like that could make other men feel inadequate.

‘Tell me, Jonny, what’s the most important thing in your life?’ she asked him quietly.

‘Kat, of course.’

Sam heard the indignation in his voice that she should need to ask, and wondered bleakly if the other woman knew how lucky she was. ‘Exactly.’ Her lips twitched into a contemptuous smile. ‘Can you imagine a woman being the most important thing in Alessandro Di Livio’s life?’

She watched Jonny struggle to do so, and gave a triumphant I told you so smile. ‘Of course you can’t. Because the only person important to Alessandro Di Livio is Alessandro.’

‘He cares about Kat!’ Jonny protested.

Too much, Sam thought. ‘Fair enough,’ she conceded. ‘But if Kat had wanted another version of her brother she’d have found one. She didn’t, because she’s a hell of a lot brighter than you are. What she wanted was a decent bloke who puts her first. She wanted you, Jonny.’

‘You really think so?’

‘How would you like it if Kat was in trouble and she didn’t come to you? Just stop being a stiff-necked idiot, tell your wife the truth, and give her what she wants…which presumably is you, Jonny.’ There’s a lot of it about, she thought, before adding, ‘And maybe a baby…?’

The anger died from Jonny’s face and he clutched his head in his hands. ‘God, Sam, you’re right!’ he cried. ‘I’ve been a total idiot. I know I should have told her. But I didn’t want her to think she’d married a total loser!’

Sam had got into the habit of avoiding physical contact with Jonny—it was a self-protective thing—but if ever there was an occasion for a hug this was it. ‘God,’ she said, wrapping her arms around him, ‘but men are stupid.’

Jonny, who had rested his chin on her glossy hair, lifted his head. ‘Especially me.’

‘Especially you,’ she agreed with a watery grin as she drew back from the embrace.

‘One thing, Sam…?’

‘Anything.’

‘Don’t say anything about this to Alessandro. Like I said, he never did think I was good enough for Kat, and if he found out about my cashflow problems he’d…Well…’

Sam nodded. ‘I understand.’

She understood, all right. She understood that the only way Jonny’s marriage was going to work out was if Kat managed to escape her brother’s overpowering influence.

‘My lips are sealed,’ she promised, miming a zipping motion along the generous curve of her mouth.

About to turn away, Jonny swung back and took her by the shoulders. ‘Sam, I may not say so very often, but I do know that you’re the best friend in the world!’ he said, planting a light kiss on her lips.

‘Sure I am. Now, go and talk to your wife.’

Oblivious to the husky catch in her voice, Jonny responded to her urging, pausing only to blow a kiss back to her from the doorway as he dived back indoors, his expression determined.

Sam forgot her desire to escape the cold wind and closed her eyes, lifting a hand to her lips. Her smooth brow puckered into a frown. No tingling…no wild surge of uncontrollable lust! In fact, no lust at all. Could it be that her under-used sex drive had simply died?

‘That was a very touching scene.’