Кристина Холлис – Claimed by the Italian: Virgin: Wedded at the Italian's Convenience / Count Giovanni's Virgin / The Italian's Unwilling Wife (страница 13)

‘Lily and I were having an important conversation,’ Fiora objected with hauteur, waving aside the proffered hand. ‘And I can walk unaided! Leave us—I am not in the least tired.’

‘That is because you have behaved sensibly up to now and rested, as your consultant said you should,’ Carla countered levelly, and Lily hid a smile, wondering who would win this contest of wills. Her money was on Fiora!

She would have lost it, she recognised sickly, when Carla delivered the power punch. ‘You will need all your strength to plan for and attend the wedding you’re so excited about. Tire yourself and you will be fit for nothing!’

Fiora rose to her feet promptly at that remark, admitting, ‘For once you are quite right.’ The smile she gave Lily was pure mischief. ‘I will see you and Paolo at dinner this evening. I have something exciting to tell you both.’ And she allowed herself to be led away, grumbling, ‘Remember, Carla, that if you get to be too bossy you will go the way of the nurse!’

Her companion’s comfortable grin showed she knew the threat was hot air and bluster and certainly not meant.

As soon as the other two had entered the imposing villa Lily leapt to her feet, too wired to sit still one moment longer. Why was Paolo absent when she really needed him?

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, she paced over to the stone balustrade and stared unseeingly out at the view over thickly wooded hillsides and fertile valleys. In her opinion Paolo was far too laid-back about the situation he had catapulted them into.

She had to make him understand that he must somehow put an end to talk of imminent wedding bells! Now. Right now! Before they found themselves even deeper enmeshed in Fiora’s plans!

She had tried on the occasion of her first meeting with his mother. Stressing her need to be home, working, because it was all hands on deck as far as the charity went.

To no avail.

So it was up to him. And since he wasn’t around, and she felt she’d go stir-crazy if she thought about it for one more moment, she’d have to do something to take her mind off it.

Turning on the heels of her supple leather courts, she headed smartly for the villa, slipping up to her room, settling on the side of the bed and picking up the phone. The nerve-racking situation made her feel as if she was fighting her way through dense clouds, no map to give her directions, and the best person to help her feel grounded again was her great-aunt.

Edith picked up on the second ring, her customary no-nonsense, ‘Yes, who is this?’ bringing the first real smile to Lily’s lips for days.

‘Me, Aunt. How are you coping alone?’ Suddenly she could see a possible way out. ‘Short-handed, it must be difficult. Did you find someone to exercise Maisie’s dog?’ If she could get her great-aunt to admit that in her absence the charity couldn’t meet its obligations she’d have the perfect excuse to cut her stay in Italy short.

‘Don’t fuss, child! We are coping beautifully. Kate Johnson is in place. She came early. And as soon as she’d settled into her accommodation at Felton Hall she started to organise the volunteers. She’s found two—got the vicar to plead for help after his sermon—and is advertising for more in the local paper. She even managed to get Life Begins a good write-up. I can’t think why we didn’t think to do that ourselves! It takes a well-paid professional to get things right. Even at this early stage everything is looking far more hopeful. I would have thought that young man of yours would have told you all this. He’s in daily touch by telephone. He’s obviously taking his involvement very seriously.’

‘Young man of yours’? She couldn’t mean Paolo, could she? How absurd? Lily fell into a glum silence, her escape route well and truly blocked. She was glad for the charity’s sake, of course she was, but it didn’t help her situation. Which, she admitted uncomfortably, was really selfish of her.

‘You still there?’ The volume of the question made Lily flinch and squawk an affirmative, holding the receiver away from her ear as her great-aunt boomed on, ‘So no need to fuss! Now, are you having a lovely time?’ Thankfully not waiting for an answer, she continued, ‘When our new partner suggested he give you a holiday in Italy, mentioning that his mother had recently been ill and could do with some young company, and that you looked very tired, I realised I had been neglecting your welfare. You’ve been working far too hard for too long …’

Lily mentally shut out the unnecessarily loud one-sided conversation. So that was how he had persuaded Edith to agree, without questioning his motives, to allow her to go to Italy without any fuss. She had often wondered. But she should have known he could charm the birds out of the trees when he had to. When Paolo Venini wanted something he got it. One way or another.

Cutting into a pause for breath at the other end of the line, she said, ‘Look after yourself, Aunt. And I’ll see you soon.’

At least she devoutly hoped so.

Paolo swung the car onto the long curving drive up to the villa. He was running late. He would be hard-pressed to shower and change before dinner, taken at the earlier hour of seven as a concession to his mother’s recuperation. His meetings had run on for longer than he’d expected, and for some reason he’d been anxious to get home, so he hadn’t been his usual incisive self. His mind had been elsewhere.

Because he wanted to see Lily? Be with her? The thought flickered briefly, unwelcomely, across his mind. Of course not! Or if he did then it would only be to check things out, reassure himself that she hadn’t, without his presence, his guidance, done or said something to give the game away.

His strong jaw tightened. He gave thanks hourly for his mother’s recovery. That it had been hugely helped along by his fictitious engagement gave him pause. But he hadn’t expected her to jump on the wedding band wagon with such spritely agility! Only yesterday she had been pestering him to seek an appointment with the priest, fix a date for as soon as possible after her final appointment with her surgeon.

When he told her, as he would have to, that there was to be a lengthy postponement she would be disappointed. He knew that. But she would understand the importance of a sudden—invented—crisis. A need for him to travel to his headquarters in New York, Madrid, London or wherever. His need to clear business before he could settle down to married life. She had been married to the head of a world-renowned mercantile bank for long enough to know that the sound running of the business came before personal considerations. Another bending of the truth. Distasteful but necessary.

Removing Lily, whom she had confessed happily that she’d taken to her heart, would pose a different problem. The excuse that she was needed back in England to work with the charity wouldn’t wash because his mother knew he had intervened and thus made Lily redundant.

But he had the problem solved. Her great-aunt was elderly. Needed her. His mother would understand that—understand that depriving an old lady of the company and care of the great-niece she had adopted as a small baby, loved as if she were her own child, would be unkind. Thus, the engagement would stretch and stretch, until some time in the future he could say that long engagements didn’t work and the wedding was off.

Hopefully by that time his mother would be much stronger, more able to handle the disappointment. There would be recriminations coming his way, but his shoulders were broad. That his thinking was devious, to put it mildly, was in no way a pleasure to him. Normally direct, he found deceit left a bad taste in his mouth. But in this case the ends—his beloved mother’s return to good health—justified the means.

He would have to explain all this to Lily. His jaw relaxed. Put her out of her misery! Though, to do her credit, she had acted the part he’d assigned her more convincingly than he’d expected.

Her role as a woman who was deeply in love couldn’t be faulted. Nothing personal—she knew the financial viability of her charity depended on her co-operation—but the way she looked at him, her eyes dreamy, her cheeks flushing with pleasure when he smiled at her, silver lights sparkling in the clear depths of her eyes was completely convincing. And when he touched her, took her hand, slipped an arm around her tiny waist to draw her forward to join the conversation between himself and Mamma, he would hear the catch of her breath, watch as the pulse-beat at the base of her slender neck quickened and see those lush lips part. He was hard put to see a flaw in her performance. She had a totally unexpected acting ability.

Such kissable lips, too, as he’d discovered. Had her response been play-acting, too? Somehow he didn’t think so. Unconsciously, a softly sensual smile curved his long mouth. Who would have believed that the muddy scrap of his initial acquaintance could have been transformed into such a delicate, bewitching beauty?

Sexily responsive, too. Heat rolled through him and his body surged at the memory, and, unbidden, the aching need to hold her again, take that generous mouth, and take things further, much further, gripped him with driven savagery.