Hired: Mistress: Wanted: Mistress and Mother / His Private Mistress / The Millionaire's Secret Mistress. Carol Marinelli
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Hired: Mistress: Wanted: Mistress and Mother / His Private Mistress / The Millionaire's Secret Mistress - Carol Marinelli страница 19

СКАЧАТЬ humble Matilda that joined Dante at the heavy wooden table that was the centrepiece of his impressive al fresco area, the beastly child monitor blinking at her on the table as she approached, her face darkening to purple as she realised she’d practically accused the man of stalking her. She braced herself for a few harsh words Dante-style but instead he poured an indecent amount of wine into her glass then pushed it across the table to her.

      ‘Is red OK?’

      ‘Marvellous,’ Matilda lied, taking a tentative sip, surprised to find that this particular red actually was OK, warming her from the inside out. Holding the massive glass in her pale hand, she stared at the dark liquid, anything rather than look at him, and started a touch when the intercom crackled loudly.

      ‘Static,’ Dante explained, pressing a button. ‘Someone down the road mowing their lawn or drying their hair. I just change the channel, see.’

      ‘Oh.’

      ‘You don’t have any experience with children, do you?’

      ‘None,’ Matilda answered. ‘I mean, none at all. Well apart from my friend, Sally…’

      ‘She has a baby?’

      ‘No.’ Matilda gave a pale smile. ‘But she’s thought that she might be pregnant a couple of times.’

      He actually laughed, and it sounded glorious, a deep rich sound, his white teeth flashing. Matilda was amazed after her exquisite discomfort of only a moment ago to find herself actually laughing, too, her pleasure increasing as Dante gave a little bit more, actually revealed a piece of himself, only not with the impassive voice he had used before but with genuine warmth and emotion, his face softer somehow, his voice warmer as this inaccessible man let her in a touch, allowed her to glimpse another dimension to his complex nature.

      ‘Until Alex was born, apart from on television, I don’t think I’d ever seen a newborn.’ He frowned, as if examining that thought for the first time. ‘No, I’m sure I hadn’t. My mother was the youngest of seven children. All my cousins were older and I, too, was the youngest—very spoiled!’

      ‘I can imagine.’ Matilda rolled her eyes, but her smile remained as Dante continued.

      ‘Then this tiny person appeared and suddenly I am supposed to know.’ He spread his hands expressively, but words clearly failed him.

      ‘I’d be terrified,’ Matilda admitted.

      ‘I was,’ Dante stated. ‘Still am, most of the time.’

      Her smile faded, seeing him now not as the man that moved her but as the single father he was, trying yet knowing she was failing to fathom the enormity of the task that had been so squarely placed on his shoulders.

      ‘It must be hard.’

      ‘It is.’ Dante nodded and didn’t sweeten it with the usual superlatives that generally followed such a statement, didn’t smile and eagerly nod that it was more than worth it, or the best thing he’d ever done in his life. He just stared back at her for the longest time, before continuing, ‘I have a big trial starting next week, but once that it is out of the way, I need to make a decision.’

      ‘Whether to move back to Italy?’

      Dante nodded. ‘Every doctor I have consulted tells me that Alex needs a routine, that she needs a solid home base—at the moment I am having trouble providing that. Katrina is only too willing to help, but…’ He hesitated and took a long sip of his drink. Matilda held her breath, willing him to continue, to glean a little more insight into the problems he faced. ‘She wants to keep Jasmine alive, doesn’t want anything that might detract from her daughter’s memory, which is understandable, of course, only sometimes…’

      ‘It’s a bit much?’ Matilda tentatively offered, relieved when he didn’t frown back at her, relieved that maybe she understood just a little of what he was feeling.

      ‘Much too much,’ Dante agreed, then terminated the conversation, standing up and gesturing. ‘I will show you the guest room, it’s already made up—then we can eat.’

      ‘I might just grab a sandwich or something when I get my things,’ Matilda started, but Dante just ignored her, leading her through the house and upstairs, gesturing for her to be quiet as they tiptoed past Alex’s room, before coming to a large door at the end of the hallway.

      Clearly Dante’s idea of a guest room differed from Matilda’s somewhat—her version was a spare room with a bed and possibly an ironing board for good measure. But Dante’s guests were clearly used to better. As he pushed open the door and she stepped inside, Matilda realised just how far she’d been relegated by Katrina. Till then the summerhouse had been more than OK, but it wasn’t a patch on this! A massive king-sized bed made up with crisp white linen was the focus point of the fabulously spacious room, but rather than being pushed against the wall and sensibly facing a door, as most of the population would have done, instead it stood proudly in the middle, staring directly out of one of the massive windows Matilda had till now only glimpsed from the outside, offering a panoramic view of the bay. Matilda thought she must have died and gone to heaven—ruing every last minute she’d spent struggling on in the summerhouse when she could have been here!

      ‘I won’t sleep,’ Matilda sighed dreamily, wandering over to the window and pressing her face against the glass, like a child staring into a toy-shop Christmas display. ‘I’ll spend the whole night watching the water and then I’ll be too exhausted to do your garden. It’s just divine…’

      ‘And,’ Dante said with a teasing dramatic note to his voice that Matilda had never heard before, ‘it has running water.’

      ‘You’re kidding.’ Matilda played along, liking the change in him, the funnier, more relaxed side of him she was slowly starting to witness.

      ‘Not just that, but hot running water.’ Dante smiled, sliding open the en suite door as Matilda reluctantly peeled herself away from the view and padded over. ‘See for yourself.’

      The smile was wiped off her face as she stepped inside. Fabulous it might be but she couldn’t possibly use it, her frantic eyes scanning the equally massive window for even a chink of a blind or curtain.

      ‘No one can see.’ Dante rolled his eyes at her expression.

      ‘Apart from every passing sailor and the nightly ferry load on its way to Tasmania!’ Matilda gulped.

      ‘The windows are treated, I mean tinted,’ Dante simultaneously explained and corrected himself. Even a couple of hours ago she’d have felt stupid or gauche, but his smile seemed genuine enough at least that Matilda was able to smile back. ‘I promise that no one will see you.’

      ‘Good.’

      ‘Now that we’ve taken care of that, can we eat?’

      This time she didn’t even bother to argue.

      Wandering back along the hallway, Dante put his fingers to his lips and pushed open Alex’s door to check on his daughter. Matilda stood there as he crept inside. The little girl was lying with one skinny leg sticking out of between the bars of her cot, her tiny, angelic face relaxed in sleep. Matilda felt her heart go out to this beautiful child who had been through so, so much, a lump building in her throat as Dante slowly moved her leg back in then retrieved a sheet that had СКАЧАТЬ