In The Count's Bed: The Count's Blackmail Bargain / The French Count's Pregnant Bride / The Italian Count's Baby. Catherine Spencer

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СКАЧАТЬ he moved up to a hut on the mountain to look after his goats there. He has been there ever since, and Luca worries that he is getting too old for such a life. He wants his father to live with him, but Fredo says his daughter-in-law is a bad cook, and has a tongue as sharp as a viper’s bite, and I could not argue with that.’

      ‘Absolutely not,’ she agreed solemnly. ‘A double whammy, no less.’

      He laughed. ‘As you say, bella mia. But the campaign is not over yet.’

      ‘You don’t give up easily.’

      ‘I do not give up at all.’

      He spread his towel on the lounger and stretched out, nodding at the book she was still clutching. ‘Is it good?’

      ‘The jacket says it’s a best-seller.’

      ‘Ah,’ he said, softly. ‘But what does Laura say?’

      ‘That the jury’s still out, but the verdict will probably be guilty. Murder by cliché.’ She sighed. ‘However, it’s all I brought with me, so I have to make it last.’

      ‘There are English books in my library up at the villa,’ he said. ‘Some classics, and some modern. You are welcome to borrow them. Ask Emilia to show you where they are.’

      ‘Thank you, that’s—very kind.’ Her brows lifted in surprise. ‘Is that why your English is so incredibly good—because you read a lot?’

      ‘I learned English as a second language at school,’ he said. ‘And attended university in Britain and America.’ His grin teased her. ‘And it is fortunate that I did, as your Italian is so minimal.’

      ‘But my French isn’t bad,’ she defended herself. ‘If I’d gone on the holiday I originally planned, I’d have shone.’

      ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘And what holiday was that?’

      She was suddenly still, cursing herself under her breath. She’d let her tongue run away with her again. ‘I thought of the Riviera,’ she said. ‘But then I met Paolo—and changed my mind, of course.’

      ‘Of course.’ She thought she detected a note of irony in his voice.

      ‘Perhaps you should have stuck to plan A,’ he went on. ‘Then you would have avoided a meeting with Zia Lucrezia.’

      ‘Indeed,’ she said lightly. ‘And Paolo might not have caught a cold.’

      ‘Not with you to keep him warm, I am sure,’ he said softly, and watched with satisfaction as the inevitable blush rose in her face. ‘Have you been to see him?’

      ‘I tried,’ she admitted. ‘But his mother wouldn’t allow it. Apparently he’s running a temperature.’

      ‘Which you might raise to lethal limits.’ He paused. ‘And she may have a point,’ he added silkily. ‘But would you like me to speak to her for you—persuade her to see reason?’

      ‘Would you?’ she asked doubtfully. ‘But why?’

      ‘Who am I to stand in the way of love?’ He shrugged a negligent shoulder, and Laura tried to ignore the resultant ripple of muscle.

      Abruptly, she said, ‘Do you know Beatrice Manzone?’

      ‘I have met her,’ he said. ‘Why do you ask?’

      ‘I was wondering what she was like.’

      The dark gaze narrowed. ‘What does Paolo say?’

      She bit her lip. ‘That she’s rich.’

      ‘A little harsh,’ he said. ‘She is also pretty and docile.’ He grinned faintly. ‘And cloying, like an overdose of honey. Quite unlike you, mia cara.’

      She bit her lip. ‘I wasn’t looking for comparisons.’

      ‘Then what do you want? Reassurance?’ There was a sudden crispness in his tone. ‘You should look to Paolo for that. And according to him, the Manzone girl is history.’

      ‘His mother doesn’t seem to think so.’

      There was an odd silence, then he said, ‘Mia bella, if you and Paolo want each other, then what else matters?’ He swung himself off the lounger, as if suddenly impatient. ‘And now it is time we went up to the house for some lunch.’

      Once again only two places had been set for the meal, which, this time, was being served in the coolness of the dining room. And her seat, Laura observed uneasily, had been moved up the table to within touching distance of his. It made serving the food more convenient, but at the same time it seemed as if she was constantly being thrust into close proximity with him—suddenly an honoured guest rather than an unwanted visitor—and she found this disturbing for all kinds of reasons.

      But in spite of her mental reservations, her morning in the fresh air had certainly sharpened her appetite, and she ate her way through a bowl of vegetable soup, and a substantial helping of pasta. But her eyes widened in genuine shock when Guillermo carried the next course—a dish of cod baked with potatoes and parmesan—to the table.

      ‘More food?’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t believe it.’

      Alessio looked amused. ‘And there is still cheese and dessert to follow. You are going to be an Italian’s wife, Laura. You must learn to eat well in the middle of the day.’

      ‘But how can anyone do any work after all this?’

      ‘No one does.’ Alessio handed her a plate of food. ‘Has Paolo not introduced you to the charms of the siesta?’ He kept his voice light with an effort, knowing fiercely that he wanted to be the one to share with her those quiet, shuttered afternoon hours. To sleep with her wrapped in his arms, then wake to make slow, lazy love.

      ‘We rest and work later when it is cooler,’ he added, refilling her glass with wine.

      ‘I think Paolo is used to London hours now,’ she said, looking down at her plate.

      ‘But he will not always work there, you understand.’ He gave her a meditative look. ‘How would you like living in Turin—or Milan?’

      ‘I haven’t thought about it.’

      ‘Or,’ he said slowly, ‘it might even be Rome.’

      She said, ‘Oh, I expect I’d adjust—somehow.’

      Except, she thought, that it will never happen, and began to make herself eat.

      She wished with sudden desperation that she could confide in him. Tell him exactly why she was here, and how Paolo had persuaded her into this charade.

      But there was no guarantee that he would understand, and he might not appreciate being made a fool of, and having his hospitality abused in such a way.

      And although he and his aunt were plainly not on the best of terms, he might disapprove of the older woman being deliberately deceived.

      Besides, СКАЧАТЬ