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The Italian's Wife

Page 3

by Lynne Graham


  and regret. 'I won't let you put your father through any more pain,

  Holly. You did what you shouldn't have done and you're paying the cost

  of it now. If you try to keep the kiddy there'll be nothing but grief

  ahead of you.'

  Over the past months Holly had learned the truth of words that had

  seemed so harsh to her at the time she had listened to them. Then she

  had still been foolish enough to hope that Jeff was making a home for

  them both in London,

  that he would want their child as much as she did and that he would go

  ahead and marry her just as he had promised. But Jeff had not made a

  home for them, had been outraged that she should've dared to give birth

  to a baby he did not want, and had never, ever had the smallest true

  intention of marrying her.

  Timmie would be much better off adopted, Holly forced herself to

  concede. It would break her heart but it was cruel of her to keep him

  when she could not provide for him as he deserved. Her eyes stung with

  hot, prickling tears. There was no other choice available to her. She

  couldn't earn enough in the employment market to pay for childcare or a

  proper home. Even living off the state in recent weeks, as she had been

  forced to do after a spate of ill health had seen her sacked from her

  last job, she had managed no better. Everything she had once owned had

  either been sold for cash or stolen. She now literally owned only what

  she stood up in. It was time to do the right thing for Timmie. He would

  have two caring parents and a decent home. How could she stand in her

  son's way when she herself had so little to offer him?

  The nurse bustled back in with a wide smile. 'Mr Lombardi is planning to

  come and see you...now, aren't you the lucky one?'

  'Mr...who?'

  'Saverio Lombardi. The man whose limousine you almost dented!'

  'A limousine...Lombardi? Isn't that the same name as this hospital?'

  Holly queried in confusion. Had he been in a limousine? He had certainly

  been travelling with an awful lot of people, she recalled dimly.

  'This hospital is run by the Lombardi Foundation. It's a charitable

  trust set up by Mr Lombardi. We only take in local patients on

  emergency,' the nurse explained. 'People

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  come here from all over the world for surgery that they can't get in

  their home countries. The foundation covers the costs. Mr Lombardi is a

  very well-known philanthropist...surely you've heard of him?'

  'No...I didn't notice the limo either.' The nurse was talking about

  underprivileged people from less developed countries, Holly gathered in

  some discomfiture, charity cases. Although she had been taken aback by

  her luxurious surroundings, she had not realised that the hospital was

  private. Indeed, she had assumed that the hospital was simply brand-new

  and that she had got her own room either by sheer good fortune or

  because Timmie's initial crying would have disturbed other patients. But

  now it was obvious that luck and Timmie's lungs had had nothing to do

  with it. She was a charity case too.

  'Maybe you were too busy looking at those scorching tawny eyes of his,'

  the other woman teased. 'Not to mention the rest of him. Rio Lombardi is

  drop-dead gorgeous, and so fanciable you could kidnap him.'

  On the other side of the ajar door, Rio hesitated in receipt of that

  unsought accolade and raised his brows in exasperation. Then, strong

  jawline squaring, he entered with a light warning knock on the door.

  Holly jerked in dismay, her pale skin taking on instant discomfited

  colour as if she had been the one talking out of turn, while the night

  nurse scurried out with a bent head. But after just one look at the very

  tall, powerfully built dark male coming to a halt at the foot of her

  bed, Holly was challenged even to recall what had briefly embarrassed

  her. In all her life she had never seen a more breathtakingly handsome

  male and, no matter how hard she tried, she could not stop staring.

  Drop-dead gorgeous had been no exaggeration. That lean, taut

  bone-structure, composed of flaring dark brows,

  proud cheekbones, wide narrow mouth and assertive jaw-line, was the very

  essence of raw masculinity. As she encountered his stunning dark golden

  eyes her mouth ran dry, and without any good reason at all she was

  suddenly very conscious that she was naked beneath the thin hospital

  gown she wore, suddenly hugely aware of her own female body. Her breasts

  seemed to ache and heat flickered deep in her pelvis, an oddly charged

  heat that drew her every muscle so taut that she could hardly breathe as

  he studied her.

  Luxuriant black lashes screened his gaze as his attention lingered on

  her soft full mouth. In that quick upward glance he made to connect with

  her scrutiny again, she met the flashburn effect of those intense eyes

  of his and was appalled to find herself wondering how that beautiful

  male mouth would feel on her own.

  'How are you feeling?' Rio Lombardi asked quietly.

  'F-f-fine,' Holly stammered helplessly, aghast at a mind that could

  throw up such inappropriate thoughts, terrified that he might somehow

  suspect the effect he was having on her. 'But I've got concussion.'

  'I know...' As Rio Lombardi strolled over to the cot to gaze down at her

  son, Holly, her face burning like a bonfire, struggled to get a grip on

  herself. But it was no use, for she could not drag her magnetised

  attention from him. He was well over six feet tall, his impressive

  physique lean and muscular, and in spite of his size he moved with

  extraordinary grace. 'Timmie looks happy, though.'

  'Yeah...nice cosy cot,' Holly mumbled, feeling like an idiot as soon as

  the inane words escaped her.

  Rio Lombardi glanced up from his scrutiny of Timmie's slumbering and

  peaceful little face, a faint smile still soft, the hard line of his

  sculpted lips. 'You shouldn't have

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  been on the streets with him,' he remarked with quiet assurance.

  'I...I know,' Holly stressed jerkily, her dilated gaze clinging to the

  mesmeric tawny hold of his, her heart jumping as if she had just leapt

  off a cliff, pounding inside her so hard she could hardly squeeze the

  words out.

  She was still blushing as fierily as a schoolgirl, Rio registered with

  reluctant amusement. He had switched his attention to Timmie to give her

  a moment in which to compose herself but his subtlety had been wasted.

  He turned her on and she couldn't hide it. Yet there was something

  strangely touching about her lack of artifice, her total inability to

  conceal what she was feeling and thinking. Those big blue eyes were like

  windows and that lush pink mouth betrayed her tension.

  Her slight, slender body barely made a decent impression in the bed. She

  had the most amazing hair, though, Rio acknowledged. Released from

  whatever had held it in temporary subjection, her hair now cascaded in

  snaking corkscrew ringlets halfway to her waist, catching the light like

  rich, gleaming bronze. His attention strayed lower and momentarily

  lingered on the surprising fullness of the ro
unded swells pushing

  against the hospital-issue gown as she sat forward, the prominence of

  her taut nipples visible even through the barrier of starched cotton.

  Nice breasts, he found himself thinking, and he was startled when he

  felt himself hardening in urgent response, startled that even exhaustion

  and stress could not stifle his most basic urges.

  'I'm going to sort me and Timmie out...I r-really am,' Holly swore

  earnestly in the charged silence, desperate to make him think better of

  her. 'When can I get out of here?

  'You need a couple of days of R & R,' Rio responded, recognising the

  naivety of that question when she was free to walk out the door any time

  she wished. But he was

  relieved by it and did nothing to disabuse her of her notion that she

  had to pay heed to some superior authority.

  'R & R?'

  'Rest and recuperation. A lady is coming to see you tomorrow.'

  Recognising the flash of instant panic in her wide eyes, Rio gave her a

  bland smile of reassurance. 'Nobody is going to make any arrangements

  against your will, but I think you'll agree that you need some

  professional advice and support right now.'

  Holly's tummy muscles contracted in a sickening spasm of alarm, her thin

  shoulders hunching as she lost colour. At last, she gained the strength

  to take her eyes from him, but only because fear and deep shame over her

  own failure to give her son a proper home made it impossible for her to

  continue meeting his level gaze.

  'You'll both be fine,' Rio asserted in conclusion, strolling back to the

  door.

  For an instant he hesitated as he remembered that crazy thought he had

  had only a few minutes before Holly fell in front of his limo. She was,

  indisputably, the very first woman he had met since walking out on

  Christabel.

  Just as well he wasn't insane enough to marry a complete stranger, he

  told himself with grim amusement. After all, Holly Sansom might be green

  as grass but she was still an unmarried mother. While he was a male who

  prided himself on his open mind, his family background and traditional

  Italian upbringing had imbued him with certain values and expectations.

  27

  Pale as death, Holly flopped back against the pillows, feeling as weak

  as water and trembling.

  She had gawped at Rio Lombardi like a bedazzled kid and had severely

  embarrassed herself. Since she had never felt that way around a man

  before, not even around Jeff, she could only put her behaviour down to

  the effects of concussion and total exhaustion. Fortunately a guy like

  Rio Lombardi, so rich and so important and so utterly above her in every

  way, wouldn't have noticed how awkward and silly she had been, she told

  herself. In any case, she had a lot more to worry about than the poor

  impression she had made on some bloke she was never likely to see again!

  From her bed she stared at her sleeping son, tears stinging her strained

  eyes in a blinding surge. She adored Timmie; she could not begin to

  imagine her life without him. But tomorrow authority, with all its

  unlimited power, was coming in the guise of that lady Rio Lombardi had

  smoothly mentioned. Why hadn't she had the strength to get up and walk

  away after her fall in that street? Once officialdom became involved,

  the die would be cast.

  Rio Lombardi had sworn that no arrangements would be made without her

  agreement. Did he really think that she was that stupid? She had had her

  baby out in the middle of the night. She had no home to go to and that

  doctor would confirm that she had been betraying signs of hypothermia.

  Those three facts were like three big extra nails being hammered into

  her coffin. The powers-that-be would decide that she was an unfit mother

  and would lose no time in removing Timmie from such inadequate care.

  Just half an hour ago she had been telling herself that it was her duty

  to give Timmie up for adoption, but when it came to the crunch she could

  feel herself tearing apart inside at the prospect of never, ever again

  having the right to hold his sweet, trusting weight in her arms. Surely

  she could do better? Surely she had enough backbone to pull herself up

  out of the mess she was in and provide for her own child?

  Couldn't she allow herself one more chance? Was that so selfish? Tears

  streaming down her guilty face, she studied Timmie in despair. He was

  all she had, all the family she was ever likely to have. She would go to

  a shelter for the homeless, one of those places from which advice came

  without the price of remorseless, grinding officialdom. If it killed

  her, she would find them somewhere to live. Only if she was faced with

  another night on the streets would she acknowledge defeat and accept

  that adoption was the only solution. That was the pact she made with

  herself, the promise she knew she had to make for her son's sake.

  But she had to get out of the hospital before that lady came to call in

  a few hours' time, she told herself frantically. However, Timmie needed

  his sleep and she still felt too dizzy to walk, so she had to be

  sensible and stay in her bed as long as possible.

  On his way to a business meeting at eight that morning, Rio found the

  memory of Holly Sansom's frightened face continually flashing up between

  him and the figures he was scrutinising.

  In one of the snap decisions that invariably threw his employees

  off-balance, Rio swept up the phone to communicate with his chauffeur

  and told him to head for the

  28

  hospital instead of the Lombardi Industries building. Impatience

  tightening his sculpted mouth as he checked his watch, he questioned his

  sense of responsibility. He had done all that he could reasonably do.

  However, he should have kept quiet about the social worker's visit.

  Forewarning Holly had been careless, and he had only made that mistake

  because he had gone without sleep for too long.

  The limo drew to a halt in the busy car park of the foundation hospital.

  Waiting with a sigh for his chauffeur to walk round the bonnet in his

  usual dignified fashion, which he knew was simply a ploy to ensure that

  his security team alighted from their car behind in advance of himself,

  Rio caught a glimpse of a bright bronze head moving behind the line of

  cars parked about forty feet away. In a sudden movement, a vicious swear

  word impelled from his lips, Rio thrust the door of his limo open for

  himself and sprang out to stride in the same direction.

  'Holly!'

  Hearing that shout just when she had believed she was free and clear of

  having attracted any adverse notice almost gave Holly a heart attack.

  Her blood literally chilling in her veins with fright, she spun round,

  her arms automatically tightening round her child.

  Rio Lombardi stepped up onto the pavement ahead of her. 'Where the

  blazes do you think you're going?'

  He was the very last person she had expected to see, and for the first

  time she was facing him upright and he was an incredibly intimidating

  figure. She was five feet four but he had to be almost twelve inches
>
  taller, and he had shoulders like a rugby player that even his fancy

  dark business suit could not conceal. He also looked...livid, shimmering

  dark golden eyes flaming over her, telegraphing anger and strong censure.

  'I...I'm g-going to find a shelter for the homeless-'

  'Like bloody hell you are!' Rio interrupted, lean strong face set in

  steely lines as he closed the distance between them in a couple of

  strides. 'Where's his pushchair?'

  'I c-couldn't find it-'

  Holly was trembling, her own guilty conflict over her decision to give

  herself one more chance intensified by the disapproval Rio Lombardi was

  emanating in powerful waves. Just twenty-four hours, only twenty-four

  hours, that was all she had wanted.

  'Give Timmie to me...' he demanded.

  And, so shaken and ashamed was Holly as she stood there with tears

  filling her anguished eyes, she found herself instinctively obeying that

  authoritarian note of absolute command. As Rio Lombardi reached out she

  let him take her son from her. A split-second later she could not credit

  what she had done and she stared up at Rio Lombardi in dismay, her

  distraught face pale as parchment. 'Give him back to me!'

  'Not until you agree to go back inside and wait to see the social

  worker, who is going to help you,' Rio stressed, watching her begin to

  tremble and recognising her fear. Striving not to feel like a bully, he

  reminded himself that he was doing the best thing for both mother and child.

  'I can't do that!' Holly suddenly sobbed.

  As Rio removed his frustrated attention from her he caught a glimpse of

 

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