Second-Best Wife

by Rebecca Winters

  Gaby’s brows formed a slight frown. “What jewelry?”

  “The headdress Giovanni wanted you to wear to the ball.”

  Her rounded chin shot up. “Something worth almost a million dollars was in my luggage?”

  “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

  With one fluid motion, he undid the top and pulled the pearl hair ornament out of the envelope.

  A noise escaped her throat. “The last time I saw it, we were at the hospital visiting Giovanni. How on earth could it have gotten in my suitcase?”

  A shadow crossed over Luke’s face. “As your tour guide said, someone planted it to make it look as if you’d stolen it.”

  “But Giovanni was the last one to have it.”

  “No, I was,” Luke corrected her. “After visiting Giovanni the next morning, I took it home with me and gave it to Luciana for safekeeping.”

  Silence stretched between them. Gaby was trying to figure it out. “You said Luciana adores Giovanni. Do you think she was angry with me because I stayed away instead of going to the ball as Giovanni wanted?”

  “Angry enough to want to get you into this kind of trouble?” Luke questioned darkly. “I don’t think so. Luciana has been with the family for years. For her to risk imprisonment makes absolutely no sense.”

  Gaby’s head lowered. “It seems that someone in your household hated me enough to get me arrested—someone who knew where to find the jewelry and had access to my luggage this morning.”

  Luke’s features looked chiseled. “Efresina doesn’t live at the palace.”

  “Your m-mother does…” she said in a quiet voice.

  His chest rose and fell harshly. “No, Gabriella. She was very unkind to you at dinner, but she would never do anything to risk losing the love of her sons.”

  “Luke, I’m sorry I said anything about your mother. Actually, she apologized to me this morning.”

  “That’s good,” he almost growled. “She should have done it before you left the palace the night of the dinner.”

  Gaby rubbed her palms over her hips in an unconscious gesture of frustration, but Luke watched the movement with such intensity, she trembled.

  “W-what about the servant who brought my bags in from the car?”

  “Giuseppi?” Just the way he said the man’s name told Gaby that Luke cared deeply for him. In an aside he murmured, “He’s been with us longer than Luciana.”

  She folded her arms. “Then that leaves Giovanni, only he wasn’t there.”

  “Wasn’t he?” Luke rasped with an abruptness that caught her off guard.

  She couldn’t look at him right then, not when she knew that Giovanni had been in Lugano, that he’d sworn her to secrecy.

  “A network of people were out looking for Giovanni all day,” Luke muttered blackly, rubbing the back of his neck absently. “But it was as if he’d disappeared off the face of the earth.”

  At his words, a shiver chased across her skin. “Luke, I just remembered something he once told me.” What she had to say wouldn’t be disloyal to Giovanni.

  “He said that during the Renaissance, secret rooms and passages were built in the palace for the family’s protection. Because I thought he was a palace employee, I assumed that was part of the knowledge he had learned to inform the public.”

  “Mio Dio!” Luke cried, comprehension illuminating his puzzled countenance. “Why didn’t I think of that sooner? Gabriella—you’ve just supplied me with the key to a very complicated riddle.”

  “What are you saying?”

  He began pacing. “On the surface, Giovanni has always appeared very sweet and straightforward. But something has changed him out of all recognition. While I’ve been away, his behavior has undergone a drastic transformation. Like one of our more notorious Provere ancestors, Giovanni has become a cunning master of mind games and intrigue.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  He sucked in his breath, straightening to his full height. “It began with the phone call to Rome.” His voice grated. “With each convoluted step, he has managed to throw our lives into utter chaos.”

  A hand went to her throat. “You think he put the jewelry in my luggage?”

  “I know he did, then he alerted the police. It’s all part of a plan.”

  Deep down, Gaby believed that, too. There could be no other explanation for Giovanni’s appearance at the jail, his ability to come and go as he pleased. It had to prove he’d been behind her incarceration. Right now she wished she hadn’t made him any promises.

  “You’re right, Luke.” Her voice shook. “He’s been playing games from the moment I first met him at the museum.”

  Luke grimaced. “They’re about to end. He’s not a little boy anymore. As soon as I get you out of here, we’re going back to Urbino. We’ll find him in one of those labyrinths beneath the palace and we’ll confront him together.”

  Much as she wanted to go with him, be with him as long as he wanted her, she knew it was impossible. Now was the time to be strong and back away from him, both mentally as well as physically.

  “No, Luke. You two brothers need to solve this problem without an audience. I’ve said my goodbyes to Giovanni. My family is expecting me home.” Her voice sounded ragged because she couldn’t deal with the pain. “I have to go.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  LUKE’S face looked wiped of expression, but the fact that he didn’t argue with her felt like a second death.

  He stood next to the table, a tall, rigid, powerful figure in black. She saw his gaze dart to her underwear, then a pair of canvas shoes, a Levi’s skirt and three cotton tops like the pink one she was wearing, hose, drip-dry shorty pajamas, one pair of white shorts, and a dilapidated, one-piece faded black bathing suit.

  Her toiletries and blow-dryer lay askew amid the absurd, cheap trinkets she’d picked up at various tourist traps since her arrival in Europe in June.

  Because she was on a tight budget, she hadn’t been able to buy anything expensive, but she refused to go home to her family and friends emptyhanded. She had opted to buy a whole bunch of fun, joky gifts.

  By the quirk of one raven-winged eyebrow, she could tell that the illustrious Luke Provere was unaccustomed to mingling with a common student and tourist like herself. He was probably appalled at the cluttered scene before him.

  To her surprise he started poking around, as if to satisfy his curiosity. Unwillingly drawn by the play of muscles across his shoulders and back, she watched him pick up one item, then another for examination.

  He held up a miniature iron maiden torture device and a trace of a smile broke the corner of his mouth. “For someone with such an angelic face as yours, no one would guess at the Machiavellian mind lurking inside.”

  She smiled in spite of her pain. “My brother, Ted, plays Dungeons & Dragons: When he finds out what it was used for, he’ll love it,” she defended.

  “No doubt,” he muttered. “And this?” From his fingers dangled a leather strap with a Swiss cow bell on the end.

  “That’s for my brother, Wayne, who works on a ranch.”

  “It’s too small for a cow.”

  Her smile broadened. “I was thinking of his dog, Grafton.”

  “Grafton?” His incredulity was more marked because of his accent. In other circumstances, she would have laughed.

  Next, he pulled out a collapsible leaning Tower of Pisa. By depressing a button, it fell to one side.

  “That’s for my father. He’s a fiddler.”

  Luke cast her a hooded glance over his shoulder. “He plays the violin?”

  “Not exactly. He’s the nervous type. Always touching things, pacing the floor. The tower will keep him busy.”

  “With a daughter like you, I’m beginning to understand.”

  Ignoring the blush that tinted her cheeks he pulled out an assortment of manufactured feudal weapons including a mace, a ball and chain, and crossbow purchased in Carcassonne. Another eyebrow quirked.

&
nbsp; “My little brother Robbie loves knights and castles,” she proclaimed before he could say anything.

  Finally he came to an Eiffel Tower which she explained would serve as an outdoor thermometer for Scott’s Jeep, and a pair of Egyptian obélisque earrings for her mom which she’d bought in Paris.

  “Those snake rings from Morocco are for my friends,” she commented when he’d come to the end of her treasures, fingering each one carefully.

  After reflection, “No presents for yourself?”

  “Except the ones I steal?” she joked, but it failed miserably. His hands had formed into fists. Her heartache intensified because Giovanni’s spectre loomed too heavily over their lives. “A-actually I shipped my Italian texts and a few picture books home several days ago.”

  Evidently unable to help himself, Luke reached for one more paper-enveloped package which the police had left half opened.

  Gaby had forgotten about that souvenir and moved quickly to intercept him, but it was too late. In a lightning gesture he’d already pulled out the simple inexpensive, eight-inch statuette of Jesus purchased in the Vatican city.

  “Out of all the souvenirs you could have chosen to take home for a memory, you purchased this for yourself?” He sounded stunned.

  “Yes,” she defended. “I had to earn all my own money to come to Europe. As you can see, I’ve lived at the poverty level for some time now. I only had a hundred dollars to buy all my souvenirs.”

  His face closed up. “Once again you’ve misunderstood me. I wasn’t referring to its monetary value.”

  Her face grew warm. Suitably chastened she said, “I’m sorry. I-it’s just that we come from such vastly different backgrounds, even I can see how this must seem to you.” Her voice wobbled.

  “But even if it is cheap, the beautiful face on that little figure resembles my idea of what Jesus really looked like. I—I bought it when I first went to Rome and plan to keep it on my dresser at home.”

  They both stared at the graphic reminder of the tremendous gulf which was about to separate Luke from the rest of the world.

  Damn. She could feel tears starting and tore her eyes away first. Quickly, before she lost it, she started packing her suitcases.

  Luke put the souvenir back in the paper and handed it to her. “Are you an active churchgoer, Gabriella?” came the low-pitched question.

  She shouldn’t have been surprised by his query, not when Luke was the one doing the asking. It was just that they’d never discussed religion, or their views on theology.

  “Yes,” she murmured quietly, closing the last zipper. “I can’t imagine what my life would be like without my faith to cling to.”

  With her packing done, she picked up both cases. “If you would be kind enough to help me get a taxi to the train station, I’ll take the next one to Brussels and sleep on the way. My plane doesn’t leave until the day after tomorrow so I’ll arrive there with time to spare.”

  “You shouldn’t be in a train station alone this late at night.” That tone of command came so naturally to him, he probably wasn’t aware of it. But Gaby knew it was unwise to be in his company any longer. It took all her strength of will not to beg him to take her someplace private and make love to her.

  To arm herself against his irresistible charisma she retorted, “That’s nonsense. I’ve been doing everything on my own for a long time and can take care of myself.”

  “A few karate moves no matter how well taught to you by your brothers won’t protect you from a pack of men intent on only one thing. You’re coming with me.”

  “No, Luke!” His declaration terrified her and she backed away from him. But her reaction only seemed to arouse his ire. In one swift movement, his hand snaked out to grasp her wrist, making escape impossible.

  Submitting her to a withering glance, he said, “Until you leave my country, you will remain under my protection whether you accompany me willingly or not.” His hold tightened.

  “But you need to get back to the palace and find Giovanni,” she cried, frantically trying to think of reasons to get away from him. “Your mother must be terribly upset with you gone.”

  “She’ll live.” With the envelope under one arm, he took the heaviest suitcase from her and started pulling her toward the door. Gaby had to run to keep up with him.

  “W-where are we going?”

  “To a hotel where we will get something to eat and a good night’s sleep. First thing in the morning I’ll put you on a plane to Brussels.”

  The thought of being alone with him any place private set her heart racing out of rhythm. “Luke, you don’t understand. I can’t affor—”

  “Basta! There are times when you drive me too far, Gabriella.” Another savage oath silenced her. “My brother’s machinations have put you in this situation. It goes without saying that I will make restitution for what he’s done.”

  Before she knew it, they’d exited the police station and he deposited her and the luggage in a rental car. When Luke had heard she was in jail, he must have taken a plane to Lugano. Fresh guilt kept her silent as he drove through the quiet streets. She was afraid to say a word in case she unleashed another violent reaction in him.

  Purposely keeping her head turned so she couldn’t look at him, she noticed they were leaving the city proper. Before long they reached a road bordering the shimmering water. Every so often she glimpsed a fabulous villa through the foliage. This was a residential area. Only the very wealthy could afford to live along this section of the sophisticated lakeside resort.

  “There aren’t any hotels here,” she blurted in trepidation, forgetting her vow not to talk.

  “That’s true.”

  “You lied to me!”

  “Yes,” he admitted with infuriating relish. “If I’d told you I was taking you to a property my family owns and uses on occasion, you would have refused to come and forced me to carry you bodily from the jail. It was better this way, don’t you agree?” he questioned in a silky tone.

  “How can you even ask me that?” Her whole body surged with exploding emotion. After their experience in Loretello, she didn’t trust herself to go anywhere with him.

  “I’m well known in my country, Gabriella.” His deep voice grated. “I didn’t tell you that to impress you. Only to remind you that for obvious reasons, I prefer to avoid scandal. If someone saw me taking a woman who looks like you to a hotel in the middle of the night, the paparazzi would get wind of it and your reputation would suffer along with mine.”

  He was right. It would look terrible. Luke couldn’t afford that kind of talk this close to taking his vows.

  She bowed her head, unable to argue with his logic. It was amazing that no matter the issue, he always found a way to reduce her concerns to so much trivia.

  “I phoned the housekeeper from the jail and instructed her to prepare a light meal. It won’t be the Trattoria Alberto, but we won’t starve.”

  He shouldn’t have reminded her of that halcyon day. The memories were too haunting and raw. “Thank you for being so thoughtful,” she murmured in a subdued tone.

  “It’s the least I can do after the ordeal you’ve been put through today.”

  “I don’t imagine this has been easy for you, either,” she conceded. After a slight pause, “Did you have to get special permission to be away from Rome this long?”

  She felt his body tauten. “Would it shock you if I told you I left without permission?”

  Gaby shuddered involuntarily.

  “I can see that I have,” he observed dryly.

  Fear for him made perspiration break out on her brow. “Are you in serious trouble then?”

  “Yes. Nothing should take precedence over God.”

  Anger warred with anxiety. “Giovanni knew better than to phone you and place demands which could jeopardize your work.”

  Luke made a left turn onto a private road and they started a climb through the flowering shrubs. “My brother may have described you as a paragon without equal, but
rest assured the decision to come home was entirely mine,” he drawled. “If you must be upset, then blame my unorthodox curiosity which overcame duty.”

  Aghast, she cried, “What will you do?”

  “I’ll face the consequences as soon as I take care of unfinished business.”

  “You mean Giovanni.” Her voice shook.

  “Sì, signorina.”

  Gaby had been so caught up in what he’d told her, she hadn’t realized he’d stopped in front of a Ticino-styled villa with a deck on the upper story. The lights inside beckoned.

  She looked behind her shoulder. “I’ll need—”

  “I’ll bring them both,” he cut in mildly, reminding her that he’d seen everything she owned and had watched her pack up her things without taking care what went where.

  Prickly warmth sent her scurrying from the car, only to come to a complete standstill when she saw a sixtyish-looking Italian woman just inside the open door of the chalet-type domicile.

  She greeted Luke like visiting royalty, her raisin eyes misting as she crossed herself and curtsied in. front of him, kissing his hand.

  A sharp stab of pain made Gaby turn away. The woman’s touching homage to the man she saw as a priest came as a tremendous shock to Gaby.

  Giovanni’s words flooded back, haunting her. Luke had been training for the religious role all his life. Her instantaneous adoration reflected that humbling truth.

  Gaby had no business here, no business at all.

  “Signorina Holt, this is Bianca,” he said in the bland voice of the perfect host. “She speaks English very well. We’ll follow her to the room she has prepared for you.”

  The plump housekeeper gave Gaby an incurious glance before she led them across tile floors and up the stairs to a charming bedroom facing the lake.

  While Luke deposited her bags on the floor, Gaby stared at the quaint simplicity of the cozy villa which came as a surprise after the sumptuousness of the palace. Instead of gilt, statuary and tapestries, there was a comfortable-looking four-poster bed with hand-carved wooden furnishings. French doors opened out onto the veranda.

  “I hope you’ll be comfortable here. When you’ve refreshed yourself, come downstairs to the kitchen.”