Italian Attraction: The Italian Tycoon's Bride / An Italian Engagement / One Summer in Italy.... CATHERINE GEORGE

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СКАЧАТЬ when you call to pick me up, won’t you? You haven’t forgotten you’re taking me out to dinner?’

      Ball in his court. He could either show her up in front of Liliana and make her look like a cheap liar coming on to him by calling her bluff, or behave like the gentleman she suspected him to be and fall in with what she freely admitted was an outrageous manoeuvre on her part. But only because he had left her with no other option, she told herself desperately when the beautiful eyes narrowed on her pink face. She had to be able to be alone with him and talk properly. That was all she wanted—an explanation. Well, not all perhaps, but it would do for starters.

      ‘Of course.’ He had only hesitated for the barest of moments. ‘How silly of me.’

      She smiled but it was the sort of smile that stuck at the edges. ‘I’ll see you about seven o’clock as arranged, then?’

      He nodded and Maisie wondered if Liliana had noticed the faintly bemused expression on his face. ‘Seven o’clock,’ he repeated softly.

      Liliana clearly hadn’t observed a thing; in fact, she was beaming at them. ‘You are going out to dinner?’ she said with evident satisfaction. ‘How nice.’

      ‘Isn’t it?’ Blaine murmured as he turned away and walked out of the kitchen, calling over his shoulder. ‘Mother’s probably asleep by now but I’ll text her about the foal and no doubt she’ll ring before she goes into the hospital tomorrow morning.’

      How could she have done that? The second he had left Maisie felt hot all over. What on earth was he thinking? Well, she knew what he was thinking! Pushy female would be the least of it. No man liked to be pursued; they liked to be the pursuer, didn’t they? That was what all the magazines said anyway. And if you did pursue them you had to do it in such a way that they either didn’t realise or could at least pretend they didn’t. Whereas she had been blatantly—she wanted to say upfront but honesty insisted on—brazen. If Liliana hadn’t been present she would have groaned out loud.

      The housekeeper had just walked back into the kitchen after seeing Blaine out and now she said eagerly, ‘So Blaine has invited you to dinner? You did not tell me of this.’

      Maisie thought on her feet. ‘It was when we were down with the foal,’ she said quickly. ‘A sort of reward, I think. You know, for calling Mr Rossellini and everything.’

      Liliana’s face dropped just for a second and then she said, ‘No, I do not think it was this. He likes you, I can tell.’ Her countenance brightened. ‘I am sure of it.’

      Maisie wondered what she had started. Carefully she said, ‘As a friend, yes.’

      ‘A friend?’ Liliana surveyed her with bright worldly eyes. ‘Huh! I do not believe in this modern idea of a man and a woman being friends. Not when they are both young and unattached. It is not possible. There is always the, how do you say, the chemistry between them. Sì?’

      Oh, help. Maisie shrugged and tried a new tack. ‘Blaine’s a workaholic; isn’t that what you said? That’s not conducive to chemistry, surely?’

      ‘Oh, that.’ Liliana dismissed her earlier comments with a very Latin lift of her shoulders. ‘That is nothing. Not if the right woman comes along.’

      ‘We’re only going to dinner, Liliana.’

      ‘Sì, sì, I know. But he asked you, did he not? And you accepted.’

      Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive. Maisie gave up. ‘I’m off to bed,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s been a long day.’ And it would probably be a long night the way she was feeling, because she had never regretted anything so much in her life and probably wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink.

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      JEENY rang the house at eight o’clock the next morning and enthused for some minutes about Iola’s foal. ‘I want you to name him,’ she told Maisie. ‘Blaine said things might have been very different if it wasn’t for you and I can never thank you enough. I was sure she wouldn’t do anything for a while and that I’d be back. If anything had happened to her …’

      ‘But it didn’t,’ Maisie said quickly. ‘Iola’s fine and her baby is just beautiful, Jenny. You’ll fall in love when you see him. But I can’t name him; that’s for you to do.’

      ‘No, no, I insist. Have a think about a name; anything you like. I want you to do it.’

      They talked for some more moments before they said goodbye, and once Maisie had put down the telephone she prepared the cat and dog food and took the bowls out to the veranda where her charges were all lined up waiting. She stood gazing out over the garden and paddock as the animals ate, the bright golden sunlight, high blue sky and fresh warm air mocking her sombre mood. She had been down to see the horses first thing before breakfast and the stables had screamed Blaine. Everything screamed Blaine. At some point during the long wakeful night she had conceded she had made a terrible mistake in engineering their date tonight and would have given the world to go back in time and change things. But she couldn’t. And it would make things ten times worse to ring up and cancel it now.

      She sighed, gathering up the bowls and taking them through to the kitchen where she washed each one under the eagle eye of Liliana, who insisted on separate cloths for the animals’ dishes, and that the sink be rinsed with disinfectant once Maisie had finished.

      Once that chore was finished she went about grooming the cats and dogs, the dogs submitting to her ministrations with their normal good grace and the cats protesting every inch of the way. Later that morning she introduced Iorwerth to his son and let the three of them into the paddock, standing for some time watching the foal, who was doing splendidly on his still wobbly legs, before taking the dogs for a long walk.

      She mucked out the stables in the afternoon and then proceeded to give them an energetic floor to ceiling spring-clean. They didn’t really warrant it but she needed to keep working. It was definitely that sort of day. Once they were gleaming and pristine she filled the boxes with sweet-smelling straw, checked the horses had plenty of clean water in the paddock and went back to the house for a coffee with Liliana before taking the dogs out again.

      At six o’clock she decided on a long soak in the bath rather than a quick shower, but after only five minutes in the bubble scented water she was out again, unable to lie still and do nothing with her nerves stretched to breaking-point.

      She had a nice surprise when she pulled on the dress she had chosen for the evening. It had been a little tight in England; now it was loose in all the right places and fitted her perfectly. And it was a size twelve. All the exercise involved with taking care of the animals was paying off.

      She examined her face in the mirror. Her complexion had turned a golden brown and was as clear and smooth as silk. The sun had brought out loads of natural highlights in her hair too, which was as good as an eighty-pound salon visit, and she had definitely lost a little weight from her face because her chin was now one instead of two and she could see evidence of cheekbones for the first time for a while.

      Hugely delighted at such a massive bonus, which she’d been totally unaware of until this moment, Maisie decided to go for gold. She was going to spend the next fifty minutes making up her face and doing her hair until she was something to die for, she told herself euphorically. She might not be a black-haired, super-slim, sophisticated Italian beauty but she wouldn’t crack any mirrors tonight either after she was done.

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