Читать книгу At Her Latin Lover's Command: The Italian Count's Command / The French Count's Mistress / At the Spanish Duke's Command - Fiona Hood-Stewart, Susan Stephens, Fiona Hood-Stewart - Страница 13

CHAPTER NINE

‘DANTE! Dante!’

She blinked. Someone was calling from downstairs.

‘It’s Guido!’ Dante grated, looking angry.

Though whether he was annoyed with himself for succumbing to her, or with Guido for choosing that moment to arrive, she didn’t know.

‘What…?’ She swallowed, to lubricate her throat, and then frantically snatched up her bra. ‘What’s he doing here?’

Hastily dealing with the buttons of his shirt, he shot her an unreadable look.

‘I expect he’s brought your things from England. You’d better tidy yourself up,’ he rasped, smoothing down his ruffled hair and avoiding eye contact. He pushed open a door, to reveal a bedroom. ‘It would look odd if you didn’t come down to thank him.’

Biting her lip, she scooped up her top and pulled it on, following him into the bedroom as he checked his appearance in the dressing-table mirror. His eyes were black and liquid, his lips parted to allow his shortened breath to escape.

‘Dante?’ she said uncertainly.

‘Please,’ he muttered, closing his eyes. ‘I have to come back to earth.’

Miranda felt a sudden stab of elation. Maybe, she thought with rising hope, he had pulled away from her because he’d heard his brother calling—and not for any other reason.

‘We are married,’ she pointed out.

Still avoiding her eyes, he said softly, ‘Yes. But we have a guest.’

‘You look terribly flushed,’ she observed in amusement.

‘We’ve been playing with Carlo. That would flush anyone!’ With a shaky grin he swept past her. ‘Come down as quickly as you can.’

‘Hmm. You’ll need to wipe the lipstick from your neck first,’ she murmured.

He whirled, frowning at the mirror, as Guido’s voice echoed through the hall.

‘Damn!’ Dante muttered. ‘I didn’t notice—!’

‘Come here.’

Miranda drew a small handkerchief from her pocket. He hesitated, then strode over to her. Reaching up on tiptoe, she gently rubbed at the offending mark. Then kissed him on the mouth.

He groaned and his lips softened beneath hers. ‘I’ve got to go!’ he whispered. Then called, ‘Guido! I’m coming!’ and hurried from the room.

Light-hearted, humming a little tune, Miranda ran into her quarters as if treading on air. She refreshed her lipstick and brushed her hair and smiled at her reflection, thinking how different she looked with her eyes sparkling and her skin glowing from a new, inner radiance.

Still humming under her breath, she flew down the stairs and headed for the sound of voices.

‘Guido!’ she cried, managing to smile at Dante’s much-loved younger brother.

Curly-haired, shorter than Dante and stockier, he came towards her, his arms open wide in greeting.

‘Miranda! You look sensational!’ he purred.

And something odd happened. She looked into his eyes and felt a spurt of fear travel right through her. It took all her willpower not to take a step back.

‘Thank you!’ she said breathily and found herself wrapped in Guido’s bear hug. Panic screamed through her. She began to breathe harshly as he kissed her enthusiastically on her hot cheeks, his body too intimate with hers. ‘Hey! Put me down!’ she cried, choking back the nausea and pretending to be amused. But his mocking eyes told her that he knew she wasn’t comfortable. ‘What will my husband say?’

‘I’m family!’ Guido protested, but he did let her go.

Miranda had to get away before she was sick right there. ‘Was that Carlo?’ she fudged, her head on one side as though she’d heard a cry. ‘I’d better go up. Shan’t be long.’

In her bathroom, after a rather undignified scuttle up the stairs on incredibly shaky legs, she cooled her face with cold water and stood with her eyes shut, mastering her nausea.

What an odd reaction! She’d never felt like this before! She’d eaten nothing strange to make her sick…

She froze. Her eyes snapped open in shock. No. She couldn’t be! Not…pregnant? Would that explain the odd feelings?

Her period was overdue. And she had always been regular. But there had only been that one occasion—at least a month ago—when she and Dante had made love, she calculated. He had been away so much. It seemed unlikely that she’d become pregnant then, but it was possible, of course. It only took the once.

Pale and dizzy, she clutched at the basin, not sure whether to be delighted or horrified. The last thing she wanted was for Dante to come back to her just because she was carrying his child. She needed him to choose her, not because she was producing another addition to the Severini dynasty—the heir and a spare.

Her hand strayed to her flat, hard stomach and she found herself smiling blissfully to think that Dante’s child might be already growing inside her. It would be lovely, she thought dreamily. And prayed that she was pregnant. However, if she was, then she would keep it a secret until she knew for sure that Dante really cared for her.

But where, she wondered, could she go to get a pregnancy test, without half of Italy knowing? She giggled, excited and happy again.

High on adrenaline and glowing with delight, she descended the stairs and drifted into the salon. The two men stopped talking as if they’d been discussing her but their admiring expressions told her that she looked strikingly different from a few moments ago.

Yet it only took a leer from Guido to throw her off balance and unnerve her again. He seemed to be getting under her skin though she didn’t know why.

Deliberately she chose to sit as far away from him as possible, settling herself on a Renaissance chaise longue beneath a wall displaying portraits of medieval Severini cardinals.

Dante brought her a drink. ‘You look wonderful,’ he murmured.

Her starry eyes flicked up to his and she couldn’t stop the radiant smile from lighting up her whole face.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered back.

Then, as he gazed into her eyes, a slight frown formed, drawing his black brows together as if he was puzzled. Could he tell? she wondered, absently taking a gulp of the champagne. And then she wished she hadn’t in case she really was pregnant. She put the glass down on the gilt table and concentrated on appearing normal.

‘What bright eyes you have!’ Guido drawled. ‘You look like an advert for eye drops. Or something.’

Eye drops? She blinked. And understood the cause of Dante’s frown. ‘I am happy,’ she said calmly. ‘I don’t need artificial substances.’

‘I should hope not!’ Guido declared in rather overdone horror. ‘I’ve been to too many parties where people disappeared into bathrooms for a snort of cocaine and came back with suspiciously bright eyes.’

‘Miranda wouldn’t dream of using drugs here.’ Dante spoke with firmness and she smiled at him gratefully.

‘No. I wouldn’t,’ she said softly. ‘It would destroy our relationship and that’s too precious to risk.’

Dante visibly relaxed and she realised how tense he’d been. It worried her that Guido was sowing seeds of doubt in Dante’s mind. And she couldn’t fathom why.

‘Guido has brought some of your possessions from England,’ Dante said, adroitly changing the subject.

‘I gather you were the special messenger, Guido. Thank you,’ she managed to say to him. ‘I appreciate your efforts.’

‘No problem,’ he said airily. ‘I had some help from Lizzie. Some pad, eh?’

He leaned back in his deep armchair. His narrowed eyes scanned the richly decorated room, the carved ceiling, marble fireplace and elegant furniture with greedy approval.

‘You know Lizzie?’ she said, surprised.

Guido grinned rather nastily and gave a suggestive little chuckle that made her flinch and shrink into the depths of the upholstery.

‘As well as I know you,’ he said with a smirk.

Not well, then, she thought with relief. Although Dante doted on his brother, she’d never quite taken to him. There was something sly and self-seeking about the guy. The last thing she wanted was for the impressionable Lizzie to get involved with him.

She looked at his stubby hands and inexplicably found herself shuddering. The pleasure of her possible pregnancy had been completely overshadowed by her irrational dislike of Guido.

‘I asked Lizzie to sort out a few must-have items for you,’ Dante explained to her, ‘and to contact Guido so that he could bring them over. The rest will come overland. I hope that’s all right?’

‘Yes. Fine,’ she said brightly. And forced herself to address Guido. ‘How long will you be staying?’

Lazily the dark eyes lingered on her with such boldness that it felt as if he were ripping off her clothes. Stupid, she told herself. He was young, good-looking and virile, and probably gave all women the glad eye.

‘A few days or so,’ Guido drawled, his lips wet and seemingly bloody from the red wine he was drinking. ‘If that’s acceptable.’

‘Of course.’

She tried to sound enthusiastic for Dante’s sake but her instincts were to recoil from him as if he were a venomous snake.

Maybe she had become super-sensitive—a downside of pregnancy, perhaps? Guido hadn’t affected her like this in all the time she’d known him at the London office. She knew his reputation with women from office gossip and that he had a rather cavalier attitude of ‘love ’em and leave ’em’. Although she’d never liked him, these feelings of extreme revulsion were entirely new.

‘The weather’s vile in England,’ he confided. ‘I look forward to swimming and sunbathing by the pool with you both.’

The thought of exposing her body to Guido’s lecherous stare almost made her throw up. Hastily she took a sip of her drink and put it down again guiltily as Dante threw his brother an indulgent look.

‘We’ll catch up on business, Guido, then we can all have a lazy day chilling out.’ He turned to Miranda. ‘You haven’t christened that new bikini yet, have you?’

Vowing to plead a headache—or at least to wear the boring one-piece—she stretched her lips in the shape of a smile.

‘That’s for your eyes only,’ she said shakily.

Guido’s eyebrow shot up. ‘Sounds interesting! Bit revealing, is it?’

She gagged and covered that up with a series of coughs while Dante playfully punched his brother’s shoulder.

They began to discuss their plans for the next day. Either it was her imagination, or Guido was watching her like a hawk. She shivered as his gaze wandered to her cleavage and it seemed that something vile was crawling over her skin. She couldn’t stand any more of this.

‘Look,’ she said, standing up suddenly and prompting the men to leap from their seats again. ‘I hope you don’t think this is rude, and I know you’ve only just arrived, Guido, but I’m very tired. I think I’ll go to bed or I won’t be able to cope with Carlo in the morning.’ She flashed a smile at both of them, though only with Dante did her eyes warm as well. ‘Goodnight, darling.’

Deliberately she walked over, put her arms around Dante’s neck and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. His arms closed around her, his mouth hardened its pressure for a brief moment as if he wanted to deepen the kiss and then he released her.

‘Goodnight, Miranda,’ he said softly.

She smiled. Inviting him with her eyes. ‘Don’t stay up late,’ she whispered, her hand lingering on his chest.

‘No,’ he promised. ‘I won’t.’

She sensed that Guido was tense and disapproving and forced herself to walk quickly past him in case he expected a goodnight kiss too.

‘’Night,’ she said to him with a casual wave, and headed a little unsteadily for the door.

‘I’ll just nip out and tell you what I’ve brought, in case you want some of it upstairs now,’ Guido said, shooting after her.

Her stomach somersaulted and she hurried into the hall.

‘Don’t bother. I can manage with what I have,’ she said sharply.

But he was right behind her and she had to increase her pace even more to avoid his cloying aftershave and the little prickles of fear that attacked her whenever he was close. She was part way up the stairs when he spoke, calling up from the hallway.

‘Dante tells me,’ he murmured, ‘that you and he have patched up your differences. Does that mean he’s forgiven you for being unfaithful?’

‘I wasn’t unfaithful!’ she cried indignantly. ‘I told you that,’ she reminded him, ‘when you came around to see me after he disappeared and I rang your office to see if he was there—’

‘Well,’ Guido said with a shrug, ‘you have to admit that even by your version of events, it looks bad. I think he’s a saint to put family honour second and I told him so, just now.’

Annoyed, she turned around to face him, crushing her panic with an effort.

‘We’re sorting our own lives out, Guido,’ she said coldly, afraid that his interference might ruin everything. ‘I think you can leave it to us to work out a solution.’

Guido looked her up and down in a rather insulting way and she couldn’t prevent herself from shuddering.

‘I can see why he wants to forgive, even if he can’t ever forget. He’d be a fool not to want you back in his bed. That body of yours would tempt a monk. Though I imagine he’ll loathe himself for giving in to his urges. Dante’s got high morals.’ He heaved a melodramatic sigh. ‘I don’t suppose he’ll ever be able to put your infidelity out of his mind. Every time he makes love to you, he’ll be wondering about your lover and how his performance matches up—’

‘I think you’ve said enough!’ she whispered, white with anger.

‘I am concerned for my brother’s welfare.’ He paused. Then asked, ‘Are you one hundred per cent sure there was no man with you that night?’

She stared, unable to answer. She had a flashback of hot breath on her face, those rough hands…

Miranda’s eyes grew huge with horror. No. She wasn’t sure. A shudder went through her at his look of triumph.

‘There you are!’ he murmured. ‘And one other thing worries me.’ He looked up at her slyly. ‘Are you hoping to milk him for all he’s worth?’

She gasped. ‘How dare you?’ she whispered, hoarse with fury.

Guido shrugged. ‘I can’t see any other reason for you to hang around. No normal woman would be able to stand being touched by a man who doesn’t give a damn about her.’

‘I only have your word for that,’ she said thickly.

‘On the contrary. You have his.’

Guido came closer, holding her captive with his intense gaze. Frozen to the spot on the stairs, she knew he was going to tell her something she didn’t want to hear but she felt compelled to listen, to know the whole truth.

‘Why do you say that, Guido?’ she croaked.

‘He’s just told me. He was laughing, saying that now he had the inheritance, the title and his son. And the services of a sexy woman whenever he chose to snap his fingers.’

‘I—I don’t believe you!’ she rasped, wishing she could sound more convinced.

‘I’m the only one who tells you the truth,’ Guido assured her. ‘You knew nothing of our uncle’s will or its conditions until I explained them. Dante kept that a secret from you. I am the only person you can trust to tell it how it is. Remember that, Miranda, when—’

‘Do you need a hand to carry any luggage up?’ Dante called and soon appeared in the doorway of the salon.

‘I don’t want anything that’s down there in the hall,’ she said, making a point of including Guido in the sweep of her gaze. Her head reeled. She didn’t know what to believe now.

‘I think I’ll come up, anyway.’ Dante came forward and slapped his brother on the back. ‘Your room’s second on the left. See you in the morning for that chat about business. Help yourself to whatever you want.’

Guido’s eyes gleamed and rested briefly on Miranda. ‘Generous of you,’ he said with a low laugh. ‘Thanks for the offer. I will do just that.’

And she felt her spine ice over. The brothers hugged and said their goodnights. Sick to the stomach and unreasonably scared, she turned and began to make her way slowly up the stairs.

Guido was up to something. He had taken against her, though she couldn’t understand why.

And yet she couldn’t confide her feelings to Dante. He had always been protective of his younger brother. Perhaps she should learn a little more about Guido, discover what made him tick.

Dante bounded up to her side and his arm drew her close. Gratefully she looked up, shaken by the tenderness of his expression.

‘You look pale,’ he murmured. And raised an enquiring eyebrow. ‘Are you really tired?’

Her eyes kindled with hope. He wanted to make love to her. But he would, wouldn’t he? A man steeped in sensuality, who needed sex…

‘No!’ she admitted. ‘I just didn’t want to spend the whole night chatting with Guido.’

‘You’d rather sleep?’ he teased, his voice low and seductive.

How could she resist him? And yet she must, while her doubts about Dante were so strong. She had to find out if Guido was lying when he claimed his brother merely wanted a sex toy to play with.

‘I was thinking of something more important,’ she began croakily.

‘Me too. I thought…we could play games.’ His hand slipped to her buttocks so that she could feel the sway of her own hips.

‘Like?’ she queried helplessly, suddenly husky.

‘Hide and seek. Kiss chase,’ he murmured. ‘Hunt the—’

‘Dante!’ she cried in mock reproof.

He chuckled and his lips sought her neck. He pushed open the double doors to his suite and spun her around, leaning against the door jamb and kissing her more thoroughly. But still she wanted to be sure that this wasn’t just sex. It had to be more.