by Sara Wood
Because if she was pregnant, then she could be carrying Guido’s child.
CHAPTER TEN
TO HER relief, they were up before Guido, who had left a terrible mess in the salon for the maid to clear up. Two bottles of champagne had rolled onto the floor, a glass had been smashed and there was evidence of carelessly eaten food on the cushions and on the rich brocade of a chair. Plus heel marks where he’d rested dirty shoes on a sofa.
The offending shoes lay carelessly discarded on the Aubusson rug, together with a pair of socks which had been hastily pulled off.
Miranda, pale and drawn after a virtually sleepless night, said nothing to Dante about this. Her stomach turned at the thought of clearing up his mess, so she sought out the maid in the servants’ quarters and made her regret understood, before joining Dante and Carlo for breakfast.
‘You don’t look too good, darling,’ he said, hurrying over to her in concern.
‘Headache,’ she muttered sickly.
‘I’ll see to Carlo.’ He ushered her into a chair and fussed over her until she was settled. ‘Have some tisane.’ He poured some camomile tea for her and pushed the fruit in her direction. ‘Eat something, mia cara,’ he instructed.
She nibbled a strawberry and then another. Watching the two of them with tightly concealed misery, she tried to imagine life without them. But the prospect was so bleak, so appalling, that she shied away from it.
A short time ago everything had seemed rosy. Now she was in despair again.
She didn’t want to lose Carlo, or Dante. Her child needed her. If she did the honourable thing and left now, then Carlo would suffer. She thought of the happiness she’d felt just before she’d fallen asleep and tasted bitter gall in her throat as her dreams for the future crumbled to dust.
Her hands clenched into tight fists beneath the damask cloth. Some day soon she would have to tell Dante what had happened that night. She would have to throw herself on his mercy.
But would he believe her when she revealed the identity of the man who’d got her drunk and incapable? She chewed the corner of her lip, unsure whether to name Guido or not. Dante adored his brother. She’d be destroying that love.
‘You’ll get permanent wrinkles if you keep frowning like that,’ Dante said gently, his hand closing over hers.
She looked down at it and the tears filled her eyes. Doggedly forcing them back, she managed a pathetic little smile.
‘You wouldn’t be attracted to me then,’ she muttered, trying to joke.
His grip tightened. He lifted her hand, turned it over and kissed her fingers. ‘My passion is for you, the person you are.’ He grinned. ‘It’s a bonus that you’re beautiful, but I’ll still want you, wrinkles or not.’
How ironic. Now she was certain of his commitment to her, now that he was actually declaring it, she was poised to have it slip through her fingers.
Maybe she wasn’t pregnant at all, she mused. It was very early yet. She’d say nothing until she’d had the chance to do a test—and that meant perhaps a trip to Como town, where there was no chance of anyone knowing who she was.
But if she was pregnant… She trembled, torn between the joy of carrying a baby that might be Dante’s, and the misery of mothering Guido’s child, which would be born from her stupidity and Guido’s lust. How would she ever know?
She shuddered. With the prospect of losing what she had so recently and joyously gained, she did the only thing possible. She grimly retreated back into the hard shell which had protected her so well in the past.
‘I’ll pop up and do my teeth,’ she said coolly, withdrawing her hand. ‘Meet you and Carlo in the hall.’
‘No problem,’ he said happily, unaware of the turmoil in her tormented heart. ‘I’ll take him to nursery if you’re not up to it.’
She didn’t want to miss a moment with her child. ‘No. I want to come. The fresh air will probably help.’
In the doorway an unstoppable force made her turn around. He was laughing with Carlo, laughing the way someone did when life was perfect and there were no worries on the horizon.
If only he knew! Feeling as though she carried enough burdens for the two of them, she slowly trudged to her room, sealing her heart as she went, shutting all access to her emotions.
It all depended on the pregnancy test. If it was negative then she’d tell Dante what had happened and they’d revert to their original plan: the business arrangement. It was the best she could expect.
If it was positive… She let out a sob. It would crucify her to keep silent, to let Dante assume he was the father of her child and to shower it with love, when it might be Guido’s baby instead. So she would have to tell him of her doubts. She shuddered, envisaging his fury.
Would he then force her to leave? The pain sliced at her like sword thrusts and it was all she could do not to cry out loud. She was a survivor, she told herself. She would come out of this. One step at a time. She must get that test done—if it wasn’t too early to tell, yet.
Her stomach rolled with fear but she doggedly concentrated on concealing her turbulent feelings. And for Carlo’s sake, she shaped a bright smile on her face and went downstairs again.
It was a cloudy day and the lake had a heavy, metallic sheen. All the time she chatted with Dante and Carlo, she felt the sky pressing down on her and the weight of guilt crushing her spirits.
But she was used to hiding her state of mind and Dante seemed so happy and carefree that he didn’t notice anything. He kept mentioning Guido and telling Carlo that they’d all be doing various activities together, and her guts shrivelled at the thought. Guido wasn’t the kind of person she wanted around Carlo. Her son wasn’t going to be influenced by such a man!
‘See you later, darling,’ she said softly, near to tears as she hugged her little boy.
‘Certo!’ he replied, and they all laughed.
‘Guido and I will have to give you Italian lessons to keep up with Carlo,’ Dante said with a chuckle, waving goodbye to Carlo.
‘No. Just you, please,’ she said quickly, and Dante grinned, hugging her close.
‘We’ll start with parts of the body,’ he murmured, as they strolled hand in hand down the street.
‘Dante! You’ll behave and teach me practical things.’
‘That’s what I was intending!’ he murmured.
She loved him. Oh, she loved him so much… ‘Look at the view,’ she said, giving a reason for stopping. Her heart was pounding so hard she had no breath to walk.
‘Wonderful.’ But he was looking at her.
‘The mountains, Dante!’ she reproved, agony tearing into her stomach.
Why did he have to be so attentive and lovable right now? He was making it harder for her.
His arm came around her shoulders. From their vantage position at the top of the steep cobbled steps, they could see the jagged mountain peaks shrouded in veils of cloud. Below, a water skier was creating curls of white in the silver lake.
‘Guido,’ he identified, surprising her.
She watched the small, distant figure executing some stylish turns. ‘He’s very good,’ she managed to say. This was her chance. She might learn a little about Dante’s brother—something to explain why he was hell-bent on hurting her. ‘Tell me about him,’ she encouraged, though the words stuck in her throat.
Dante looked pleased. ‘It’s good to see him enjoying himself, poor devil,’ he said sympathetically. ‘He had a hard time as a child.’
Miranda shot him a quick glance. ‘Oh? Why?’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘Favouritism, I’m afraid. Both Mama and Papa favoured me. So did my uncle. It must have been crushing for him. I was the elder brother, with all the advantages. You know,’ he said, waving his hands expansively, ‘first bike, first to be allowed a glass of wine, to stay out late.’
‘Perhaps,’ she said quietly, ‘you were favoured because you were more lovable.’
‘No!’ Dante looked aghast at the idea. ‘Because I was the heir
. The firstborn. That made me special in my parents’ eyes. I shared my things with Guido but it wasn’t the same as being given preference.’
They walked on. Her mind churned with ideas. ‘He must have been jealous of you,’ she said slowly. And yes, she’d noticed envy in Guido’s eyes when he’d realised what Dante had inherited.
‘Well, he wouldn’t be human if he wasn’t!’ Dante laughed.
‘Did he have many friends?’ she asked, remembering how Guido had annoyed her colleagues by muscling in on their leisure activities.
‘Not many,’ Dante admitted. ‘Being older and stronger, I was always having to protect him from being bullied. Other kids kept picking fights with him.’
‘For no reason at all?’ she said drily, knowing perfectly well why Guido had been roughed up. He was a nasty piece of work.
‘They claimed he’d thumped them first or he’d stolen things from them.’ Dante’s face darkened. ‘But Guido said they were lying. Naturally I believed him. I knew he’d never risk the family name by stealing.’
She wavered between telling him some time in the near future that his brother was a liar and had betrayed him, or remaining silent forever.
‘You love him very much.’
‘Yes,’ he said gently. ‘I do. I feel protective. I’ve had all the advantages in life. At school I had more success—and at university. My uncle was childless. He became a surrogate father when my own father died but he never had much time for my brother. Guido has suffered because of me—especially,’ he said with a rueful smile, ‘where women are concerned.’
Miranda felt muscles in her body twist into knots. This was the key to Guido’s behaviour, she felt sure.
‘What…do you mean?’ she asked, her throat constricting.
‘I was never short of dates,’ he explained a little awkwardly. ‘I realised then that it was because I was a “catch”. A man with a glittering future. That,’ he said frankly, ‘is why I didn’t tell you about my expectations. I wanted you to love me for myself.’
‘I did. I do,’ she said quietly.
He squeezed her hand. ‘And I count myself fortunate because of that. Poor Guido. Being the younger brother without any particular prospects, he seemed to find it harder to make any kind of lasting relationship.’
‘I see.’
It didn’t surprise her. She didn’t imagine that Guido would treat women well. Shortly after she’d started work at Severini’s she’d walked into the ladies’ cloakroom at the office and had overheard one of the typists complaining about Guido’s roughness. She’d been showing her bruises to two other typists when they realised Miranda was there. Since she was Dante’s secretary and might tell tales, they’d clammed up, but she’d been troubled.
And yet she’d said nothing, deciding that the typist should be the one to complain.
‘I have to confess that I did something awful to him once,’ Dante muttered.
Miranda tensed. Things were beginning to make sense. It sounded very much as if Guido had been hell-bent on revenge.
‘What was that?’ she asked gently.
‘I took his girl.’ Dante sighed and looked to her for understanding. ‘I had no idea he was in love with her. He’d never said a word. She came on a family picnic and we got on so well that we went out together afterwards. Guido saw us—though we hadn’t been trying to hide our relationship—and went berserk, yelling and sobbing and threatening me with a knife in the back. I was appalled. It was a long time before he accepted that I hadn’t done it deliberately.’
‘Deliberate or not,’ she said soberly, ‘in his eyes you still took the woman he loved.’
‘I know. And I’ve tried to make it up to him ever since. I hope he’ll meet someone special one day.’
‘You’re a good man,’ she said shakily.
‘I try. Now, enough of my brother,’ he declared. ‘We’ll get the doctor round to check you over while Guido and I discuss business, then if the sun breaks through that cloud we can all take it easy around the pool. How does that sound?’
She managed to produce a reasonably authentic smile. ‘Very idle.’ And wondered how she could keep out of Guido’s way for the rest of his stay.
‘You should have a party,’ her brother-in-law was saying, when she finally went down to the pool.
But she only had eyes for Dante. He was stretched out on a lounger, his body gleaming like polished silk. His hands were linked behind his head, lifting his chest, and when she looked at him she felt almost choked with desire.
‘Excellent idea!’ he replied and grinned at his brother who was sprawled on the aquamarine tiles edging the pool, one leg dangling in the water. And then Dante saw Miranda. He hurried over to her in delight and took her in his arms.
‘I’ve missed you,’ he murmured, kissing her tenderly on the mouth. ‘Come and sit where I can look at you. We’re planning a party. What do you think?’
She’d taken the precaution of wearing the demure one-piece. Her hair was swept to the top of her head in a no-nonsense bun, she wore no make-up and she’d wrapped a robe firmly around her body. Even so, she felt nervous as Guido’s leering stare did its best to penetrate the towelling barrier.
She had the sensation that he was remembering every inch of her, and her horrified eyes saw that his hands were actually imitating caressing movements as they ran up and down his chest.
Only her immense will-power permitted her to tear her gaze from him and to answer Dante’s enthusiastic response to Guido’s suggestion.
‘A party would be lovely,’ she said coolly, sitting on the far side of Dante, well away from Guido. She had a sudden thought. It was a golden opportunity to get that test… ‘I’d better go to Como town for something to wear!’ she said with a little laugh.
‘Women!’ sighed Guido. ‘Always keen to spend our money.’
Nasty, she thought. ‘I was intending to spend my own,’ she retorted.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it! Use the credit card I gave you. It needs some attention! You must buy whatever you need,’ asserted Dante. ‘Something special. You could ask Lizzie and your friends and people from the office to the party if you like,’ he added. ‘Tell me who you want to come and I’ll send tickets. We’ll have a fantastic party! Great idea, Guido.’
‘Dancing,’ Guido drawled. ‘We must have an orchestra in the ballroom and perhaps a more intimate one out on the terrace so we can dance outside. What do you think, Miranda? Would you like that? To dance with your lover beneath the stars?’
Lying flat out on the sunbed, her eyes closed, her robe still firmly tied, she took a moment to deal with the nauseating thought that by ‘lover’ he didn’t mean Dante. Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? she thought miserably.
‘What do you think, darling?’ prompted Dante, leaning over and kissing her. His fingers busied themselves with the knot of her belt. ‘Hey, are you dreaming? You must be hot like that. Here. That’s better!’
‘I am hot,’ she said, holding back the urge to fling herself into his arms and sob her heart out in despair. ‘I think I’ll swim.’
‘Me too!’ Guido leapt up and ran to the edge of the pool, diving into the aquamarine water.
Miranda stayed put, hiding a shudder.
‘Something’s on your mind,’ Dante said quietly.
‘Yes, it is,’ she mumbled.
‘What?’
She bit her lip, watching Guido showing off. He interrupted his dives and handstands by energetically beckoning her to join him.
Her stomach rebelled. It was either morning sickness or she was nauseated by Guido… She didn’t know. Only that she had a growing conviction that she could never have allowed him to get close to her. Not in that way, or in any way at all. She’d always kept him at arm’s length. There was more to this than she’d first thought.
‘My nightmares. I am trying to overcome them,’ she said slowly. ‘The doctor gave me some sleeping pills—though I don’t want to take them. But he did say I should try to discov
er why I’m having recurring dreams.’
Dante’s mouth had tightened. ‘Miranda, I don’t—’
‘I know you don’t want to discuss it, that it’s an episode you want to forget and relegate to the past,’ she said shakily, touching his arm in understanding. ‘But for me it isn’t over. I won’t be free until I have faced my demons.’
‘Even if you discover something you’d rather have kept hidden?’ he muttered.
Her hand slipped away. So he wasn’t sure of her innocence. He’d decided to put it behind him and hope for the best. She felt scared. If he thought she might have been unfaithful, what hope did they have for the future?
‘All I want you to do,’ she said, twisting the tie of her robe into a tight coil, ‘is to tell me exactly what happened from your point of view. It’s very important to me.’ When he stayed silent, her wide blue eyes showed panic. ‘Please, Dante! You could help me.’
‘Come on in!’ yelled Guido.
Pained, Dante nodded curtly before turning to his brother. ‘Later! Amuse yourself!’ he yelled back.
‘You’ll do it?’ she asked tremulously.
‘Yes. Come on,’ he muttered. ‘We can’t discuss this here.’ His hands closed the robe over her body and he pulled her to a sitting position. ‘I think we’d better go inside to discuss this.’ He frowned. ‘You’re looking so pale and drawn that people will begin to notice,’ he added as she slid her legs to the ground and rose shakily to her feet. ‘You need to sleep undisturbed or your health will suffer. That won’t be good for you or Carlo.’
It seemed that he was still concerned about the gossip of other people. She was so unsure of him. And would remain so, until the truth had been unravelled. As a protective measure, she withdrew into herself a little more.
‘Thank you,’ she said in a dull, polite tone. Because he had disappointed her. She feared that he didn’t love her unconditionally—and her aching heart needed nothing less.
With a bleak expression, he collected his thin towelling robe and shrugged it on. She let him lead her off, seeing out of the corner of her eye that Guido was looking daggers at her.
