THE ITALIAN DUKE’S WIFE

by Пенни Джордан

  are travelling alone and looking for someone to replace

  him in your bed? The coastal resorts are the

  best hunting ground for that. Not the mountains."

  Jodie drew in her breath in outraged fury. "How

  dare you say that? I am most certainly not looking

  for anyone, let alone someone to replace him. In fact,

  that is the last thing I want to do," she found herself

  adding. "I shall never let another man into my life to

  hurt me. Never. From now on I intend to live by

  myself and for myself." Bold words, but she meant

  every single one of them!

  Lorenzo frowned as he heard in her voice the passionate

  intensity of her determination.

  "You still want him so much?"

  "No!" Jodie told him fiercely, without stopping to

  wonder why he was asking such a personal thing. "I

  Don’t want him at all — not now."

  "So why are you here — running away?"

  "I am not running away! I just Don’t want to be

  there to see him marry someone else," she added defensively

  when she saw the way he was looking at

  her. "Especially when she’s all the things I’m not.

  Exciting, glamorous, sexy…" Jodie lifted her hand to

  her face to rub away the tears that had suddenly filled

  her eyes. She had no idea why she was telling this

  stranger all of this, admitting to him things she had

  not even admitted to herself before.

  "It is the man who determines whether or not a

  woman is "sexy", as you put it," Lorenzo decreed

  dismissively, as caught up in this strangely intimate

  exchange as Jodie. "A skilled lover has it in his power

  to create a full flowering of even the most tightly

  closed bud."

  A shock of tingling awareness quivered through her

  belly as Jodie absorbed the meaning of his astoundingly

  arrogant statement.

  "Not that many young women are tightly closed

  buds in this day and age," Lorenzo added sardonically,

  as he watched the colour come and go in the

  pale face that was so shadowed with tiredness.

  "Modern women have claimed the right to their

  own sexuality," Jodie responded fiercely. "They do

  not—"

  "It does not sound to me as though you have been

  very effective in claiming yours," Lorenzo told her

  derisively. "In fact, if I were to make an assessment

  of it, I would guess that your experience is extremely

  limited — otherwise you would not have lost your man

  to another woman."

  His sheer arrogant machismo both astounded and

  infuriated her. But she was forced to admit that non

  existent would have been a more accurate estimation

  of her sexual expertise. Painfully she released the

  pent-up breath his words had caused her to hold, in

  shaky relief that he had not added to her existing humiliation

  by somehow recognising that she was still

  a virgin. Not by choice, though. All those months in

  hospital, after the car crash in which her parents had

  been killed and she had been so badly injured that at

  one point it had been feared she would not survive,

  had stolen a large chunk out of her life.

  "Which, presumably, is why you are confusing

  physical lust with love — a word, an emotion, your sex

  has laid claim to and downvalued to the extent that

  is now worthless," Lorenzo continued harshly.

  "My sex?" Jodie took up the challenge immediately,

  the gold-hued warmth of her eyes heating to an indignant

  dark amber.

  "Yes, your sex! Do you deny that women have now

  become as much serial adulterers as they once

  claimed only men could be? That their reasons for

  marriage are based on their own selfish and shallow

  emotions and needs — needs which in their eyes come

  before the needs of anyone else, even the children

  they bear?"

  The bitterness she could hear in his voice momentarily

  shocked Jodie into silence. But she rallied

  quickly to defend her sex, pointing out, "If that is your

  consistent experience of women, then maybe you are

  the common factor — and the one to blame."

  "I? So you believe that if a child is abandoned by

  its mother, it is the child who is at fault? A novel

  mindset — which only underlines what I have just

  been saying!"

  "No, that is not what I meant—" Jodie began.

  But it was too late. He was ignoring her words to

  demand autocratically, "What is your name?"

  "Jodie. Jodie Oliver. What is your name?" she

  asked equally firmly, not to be outdone.

  For the first time since he had stopped his car she

  sensed a momentary hesitation in him before he said

  coolly, "Lorenzo."

  "The Magnificent?" Jodie quipped, and then went

  bright red as he looked at her.

  Il Magnifico. That had always been Gino’s teasing

  way of addressing him, claiming that it was no wonder

  he had been so successful when he carried the

  same name as one of Florence’s most famous Medici

  rulers.

  "You know the history of the Medici?" he shot at

  Jodie.

  "Some of it," she said neutrally, suddenly not wanting

  any more argument with a stranger. She was beginning

  to feel very tired and weak. "Look, I need to

  get in touch with the car hire firm and tell them about

  the car, but my mobile isn’t working. Could you possibly…?"

  He must surely be going back through the

  village she had driven through — there was nowhere

  else to go. If he would take her there she might be

  able to find a room for the night and telephone the

  car rental people.

  "Could I possibly what?" Lorenzo demanded. "Help

  you? Certainly." She had just started to sag with relief

  when he added softly, "Provided that you agree to

  help me."

  Instantly warning signals flashed their messages inside

  her head, causing her to tense.

  "Help you?" she repeated cautiously.

  "Yes. I need a wife."

  He was mad. Completely and utterly insane. She

  was stuck on a deserted road with a madman.

  "You…want me to help you find a wife?" she managed

  to ask, as though it were the most natural request

  in the world.

  Lorenzo’s mouth compressed, and he gave her a

  look of cold derision. "Don’t be ridiculous. No, I do

  not want you to help me find a wife. I want you to

  become my wife," he told her coolly.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SHE was being ridiculous?

  "You want me to be your wife?" Jodie repeated

  slowly. "I’m sorry, but—"

  "You Don’t want to marry — ever. Yes, I know,"

  Lorenzo interrupted dismissively. "But this would not

  be an ordinary marriage. I need a wife, and I need

  one within the next few weeks. I have as little real

  desire for a wife as you have for a husband — although

  for different reasons. Therefore it seems to me that

  you and I could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.

&
nbsp; I get the wife I need, and you, after we

  have been married for twelve months, get a divorce

  and…shall we say one million pounds?"

  Jodie blinked and shook her head, not sure that she

  had actually heard him correctly.

  "You want me to agree to marry you and stay with

  you for twelve months?"

  "You will be well reimbursed for your time — and

  it is only your time and your status as my wife that I

  shall require. Your presence in my bed will not be

  part of the arrangement."

  "You’re crazy," Jodie told him flatly. "I Don’t know

  anything about you, and I—"

  "You know that I am prepared to pay you a million

  pounds to be my wife. As for the rest…" He gave an

  arrogant shrug of his powerful shoulders, and told her,

  briefly and dismissively, "There will be time later for

  me to explain to you everything you need to know."

  By rights she ought to be scared to death, Jodie

  decided. But, despite the fact that she was obviously

  in the presence of a madman, for some reason the

  main emotion that filled her was not fear but bemusement.

  Bemusement and a certain sense that fate

  had listened in to her secret thoughts and decided to

  take a hand in her life. Here was the opportunity—

  the man — her pride had ached for…

  Was she mad? She surely couldn’t be thinking of

  accepting his ridiculous proposition?

  "If you want a wife that badly, surely there must

  be someone—"

  "Many someones," Lorenzo stopped her sardonically.

  "Unfortunately they would all want what I do

  not want to give — it is amazing how easily your sex

  claims undying love when money and social position

  are involved."

  "You mean you would be targeted by fortune-

  hunters?" Jodie guessed shrewdly. It was obvious, after

  all — not just from his car and his clothes, but more

  betrayingly from his manner — that he was wealthy.

  "Is that why you want to marry me, because a fake

  marriage will keep them at bay?"

  "Not exactly."

  "Then why?"

  "It’s a condition of my late grandmother’s will that

  I either marry within a certain time of her death or I

  forfeit…something that means a great deal to me."

  Jodie’s forehead crinkled into a small frown.

  "But why on earth would she do that? I mean, either

  she wanted you to inherit whatever it is or she

  didn’t."

  "The situation is more complex than that, and involves…

  other issues. Let us just say that my grandmother

  was persuaded to do something that she

  thought was in my best interests by someone who was

  following their own agenda."

  Jodie waited for him to continue, but instead he

  reached for her hand. "Give me your car keys and—"

  She gave a small, determined shake of her head.

  "No." If she wasn’t already totally off men for life,

  this man and his unbelievable arrogance would surely

  be enough to put her off them, she decided angrily.

  But at the same time an insidiously tempting possibility

  had begun to form inside her head. What if

  she were to agree, on condition that Lorenzo escorted

  her to John and Louise’s wedding? With the whole

  village invited, two extra guests wouldn’t cause any

  problems…and, yes, she admitted it, there was a part

  of her that was sore enough and woman enough to

  want to be there, showing the world and the newly

  married couple that not only did she not care about

  their betrayal, but that she had a new partner of her

  own. wasn’t there a saying, "Living well is the best

  revenge"? And how much better could a discarded

  and unwanted fiance.e live than by showing off her

  new, better-looking and far more eligible man? A

  man, moreover, who desperately wanted to marry her!

  She was wrenched out of this mental triumphant

  return to the scene of her humiliation by Lorenzo’s

  arrogantly disbelieving voice. "No?"

  It was ridiculous that she could even contemplate

  doing something so shallow, and it showed the effect

  that just a few minutes in the company of a man like

  Lorenzo was having on her. She was not going to let

  herself listen to the urgings of her pride. Leaving it

  and her conscience to wage war on one another with

  an undignified exchange of inner accusations, she

  tried to do the sensible thing, and told Lorenzo firmly,

  "Even someone as…as arrogant and used to getting

  what they want as you seem to be must see that what

  You’re suggesting just isn’t—"

  "A million isn’t enough? Is that what You’re trying

  to say?"

  Her face burned. "The money has nothing to do

  with it." The cynical look he gave her at that made

  her burst out angrily, "I can’t be bought. Not by John,

  and certainly not by you."

  "John?"

  He hadn’t pounced so much as leapt on her small

  betrayal, and now he was looking at her as she imagined

  a large sleek cat might look at a mouse it was

  enjoying tormenting.

  But she was not a mouse, and she wasn’t going to

  be either bullied or tormented by any man ever again.

  She lifted her head and told him coolly, "My exfiance.

  He offered me money, too, but he was offering

  it out of guilt, because he didn’t want to marry me,

  not as a bribe because he did. He wanted me to be

  the one to break off our engagement, so that no one

  could accuse him of dumping me. Obviously you both

  share the same male mindset. Like you, he thought

  that he could buy what he wanted, regardless of what

  I might be feeling." Despite her attempt to appear unaffected

  by what she was revealing, a mixture of sadness

  and cynicism shadowed her eyes. Her mouth

  twisted slightly as she added, "In a way, I suppose he

  did me a favour. Knowing that he thought so little of

  me that he would buy his way out of our relationship

  made me realise that I was better off without him."

  "But, despite that, you still want him."

  The unemotional statement made her heart thud

  nauseatingly inside her chest.

  "No!" she said quickly. "I do not ""still want him""."

  "So why have you run away, if it is not because

  you are afraid of what you still feel for him?"

  "I have not run away! I’m having a holiday, and

  when I go back…" The small involuntary movement

  that caused her shoulders to droop as she contemplated

  returning home was more telling that she realised.

  When she went back — what? She had no job to

  go back to. Not now. And no home — she had, after

  all, sold her cottage, and even if she had not done so

  she doubted that she would have wanted to live there,

  with all its memories of her false happiness. But she

  could go back with her head held high and on the arm

  of a man she could truthfully say was going to become

  her husband, she reminde
d herself.

  And then what? He had already told her the marriage

  was only to last twelve months.

  Then she would shrug her shoulders and say, as so

  many others did, that it hadn’t worked out. There was

  far less shame in that than there was in being labelled

  as a dumped reject.

  "In twelve months" time you could go back with a

  million pounds in your bank account," she heard

  Lorenzo saying, as though he had read her mind.

  It was so tempting to give in and agree. And she

  resented him for putting her in a position where she

  was tempted. What had she promised herself about

  never being manipulated by a man again? Gritting her

  teeth, Jodie pushed herself back from the edge of giving

  in.

  "If you really want a wife," she told him crossly,

  "then why Don’t try finding one without using your

  money? Someone who wants to marry you because

  she loves you, and believes that in you she has found

  a man who loves her back, a man she can respect and

  trust, and…" She saw the way he was looking at her

  and shook her head. "Oh, what’s the use? Men like

  you and John are all the same. He only values the

  kind of woman he can show off, the kind of woman

  who makes other men envy him, and you only want

  the kind of woman you can buy so that you can control

  her and your relationship with her. Well, I am not

  that kind of woman. And, no, I will not marry you."

  As she turned away from him Lorenzo could feel

  the anger surging through him. She was refusing him?

  This…this too-thin nobody of a tourist — a woman

  who had been rejected publicly by the man who had

  promised to marry her? didn’t she realise just what

  he was offering her or how fortunate she was?

  Marriage to him would transform her instantly from

  an unwanted dab of a woman into the wife of someone

  wealthy enough to buy her ex-fiance. a hundred

  thousand times over. She would instantly be raised to

  a social height most women could only dream of, she

  would be courted by the famous and the rich, and, if

  she was intelligent enough to capitalise on what he

  would be giving her when their marriage was over,

  she could find herself a new husband. Any amount of

  men would be only too willing to marry the woman

  who had been selected by a man like him. All she

  had to do in order to totally transform her life was

  agree to be his wife.