by Lynne Graham
dark drawl, his accent very thick.
'I do!' Holly protested feverishly. 'Maybe I didn't before but I do now.
I thought sex was awful until tonight...what did I do wrong?'
Above her, Rio closed his eyes, his expression pained, dark colour
scoring his fabulous cheekbones. He threw himself back against the
tumbled pillows with a very male groan. 'You didn't do anything wrong. I
did it all. The condom broke...'
As those three words sank in Holly stilled, her face tightening in
shock. As she processed that admission and registered the potential
consequences her complexion paled to the colour of milk.
Springing off the bed with lithe ease, Rio strode in the direction of
the bathroom. 'Come on,' he urged with wry mockery. 'Let's drown our
sorrows in the shower!'
'In a minute...' As he vanished from her view she almost fell off the
bed in her haste to vacate it. Struggling back into her nightie, she
fled to her own room, driven by the kind of panic and shame that wanted
no witnesses.
77
Emerging from a restive sleep, conscious that she had still been awake
at dawn, Holly sat up in bed slowly. With every movement, a telling
series of aches in certain private places reminded her of her abandoned
behaviour with Rio the night before and her shadowed eyes filled with
anguished regret.
Last night she had locked her bedroom door. Rio had followed her and,
quiet though he had kept his demands that she open the door, she had
sensed his angry impatience even through the solid thickness of wood
separating them. When, minutes later, the bedside phone had rung she had
rushed to unplug it from the socket.
She was so ashamed of how stupid and reckless she had been. It was her
fault that the whole situation had developed in the first place. She
fully believed that it had been her obvious attraction to Rio which had
first incited his interest, was convinced that without that sexual spur
and provocation it would not even have occurred to Rio to touch her. Her
feelings, her weakness, her reactions had drawn him.
But at least Rio had thought of precautions. Such a sensible
consideration had not crossed her mind once and he was hardly to be
blamed for the reality that misfortune had struck. Misfortune was her
middle name, Holly reflected, a shuddering sob hurtling up from her
constricted lungs. Hadn't she learnt anything from Timothy's birth? Was
she still irresponsible and naive and foolish?
What on earth had got into her? Another sob quivered through her slender
frame. She wiped at her eyes but the tears kept coming. How could she
ever face Rio again? He had been so kind to her and she had had a
magical time with him earlier in the day. Even last night, when she
assumed other less well-bred males would have been cursing furiously
over such an accident, Rio had maintained his cool courtesy. In fact he
had proved himself a guy worthy of being loved.
But she had behaved like a slut, she told herself wretchedly; she
deserved everything she had coming to her, but no baby deserved an
inadequate mother. For the first time she glanced at the clock by the
bed and her eyes flew wide in horror because it was already after ten
and Timmie always woke up around seven!
Holly leapt out of the bed and unlocked the door. Pausing for an
instant, she then stopped and grabbed up the luxurious fake-fur she had
worn to the restaurant and dug her arms into the sleeves before hurtling
into the room next door to check on her child. In an almost all-male
household she needed to be careful to cover up and perhaps, had she been
more sensible the night before, nothing would have happened between her
and Rio.
In Timmie's room the nanny, Sarah, looked up with a smile. She was in
the midst of dressing Timmie. Holly was startled, for she had assumed
that the nanny had only been brought in to look after her son for just
the one day.
'Good morning, Miss Sansom. Aren't these clothes beautiful?' Sarah said
chattily as if there was nothing odd about Holly choosing to wear a
fake-fur coat over her nightie. She held up a tiny navy reefer jacket
embroidered with a Scottie dog motif and a pair of miniature checked
trousers for Holly's inspection. 'Mr Lombardi had a whole selection of
outfits for Timothy delivered this morning.'
The 'Timothy' tag had spread, Holly noted in a daze. Rio had had
clothing purchased for her son? Was there no
78
end to his generosity? Or her own indebtedness? Didn't he understand how
hard it was to continually receive gifts when she was in no position to
reciprocate? Although she was longing to hold her baby in her arms, she
backed to the door again. 'I'll just go and get dressed.'
But her attempt to re-enter her own room was forestalled by the reality
that there was a giant heap of boxes and bags now sitting on her bed and
two manservants were engaged in opening them. A frown of bemusement on
her brow, she stared. What was going on?
'I'm glad you put the coat on, bella mia,' a dark, deep drawl remarked
from behind her. 'I wouldn't like anyone but me to see you in that
nightdress.'
Holly whirled round. 'For goodness' sake, what are those blokes doing?'
'Unpacking your new wardrobe...what else?'
'Wh-what new wardrobe?' A band of tension was tightening like a vice
round Holly's temples. It was as if she had woken up in another world
where everything was slightly different from what it ought to have been.
But she had still to look any higher than the level of Rio's gold silk tie.
'What we bought yesterday.'
'Are you telling me...there was more than that dress I wore out and the
coat?' Holly gasped, appalled by that news.
'Dio mio, of course there was more. You had nothing but what you stood
up in,' Rio pointed out rather drily.
'But I can't let-'
'Excuse me...' Striding past her, Rio snapped his fingers to alert his
staffs attention and addressed them in Italian. The two men immediately
abandoned their task and filed out. Closing his fingers over hers, Rio
drew her into the
bedroom and pushed the door closed. 'Right now we have something rather
more important to worry about-'
Holly was gazing aghast at the huge heap of shopping strewn across the
bed. 'You can't do this, Rio...it's not right, it's totally wrong-'
'Holly,' Rio slotted in grimly, 'in fifteen minutes a Miss Elliott will
be calling to see us and you need to get dressed. I suggest you wear one
of your new outfits.'
Her brow indented. 'Who's Miss Elliott?'
"The social worker whom you would have seen had you remained in hospital.'
Holly had turned a sickly shade. 'But how did she find out I was here in
your house?'
Rio's wide, sensual mouth compressed. 'I informed Dr Coulter, who's a
friend of mine, that I had brought you here-'
Holly was trying very hard not to burst into tears. 'Some
friend...shopping me to the authorities!'
'Per meraviglia! Will you stop talking as thou
gh you are a criminal? You
and Timothy are both all right now, but naturally enquiries have to be
made to establish that fact.'
"They'll t-take him away from me...' Holly sobbed, backing away from him
in her distress.
Rio gripped her by the shoulders, dark-as-midnight eyes level. 'Nobody
is going to take him away from you. I promise you that. Now pull
yourself together and come downstairs-'
'I can't-'
'You're talking like a child.' Rio dealt her a hard look of censure,
lean, dark features set in impatient lines. 'This matter will be easily
resolved. Once I inform the woman that I intend to marry you, she will
see that neither you nor your son are in need of further support.'
As he released his hold on her Holly fell back from him,
80
thunderstruck by that statement. 'You're going to tell her that we're
getting...married?'
'And the less you say on the subject the better...OK?' Rio breathed,
striding back to the door and flipping it shut in his wake.
In a daze, Holly blinked as comprehension slowly sank in. Yet she was
amazed that Rio was willing to tell such a whopping lie on her behalf.
However, that fiction would indeed satisfy any concerns as to her son's
future well-being. Rio Lombardi was rich, respectable and a noted
philanthropist, she reminded herself dizzily. He was the fake
husband-to-be from heaven, only lacking an actual halo. He was also very
clever. She was really touched that he was prepared to spout such a
story purely for her benefit. Not that he was exactly looking forward to
the prospect, she conceded, shame assailing her. Rio had had a bleak,
grim aspect new to her experience of him. Most probably he wished he had
never met her and never got involved.
But the least she could do to back up his story was look the part of a
woman on the brink of marriage to a very wealthy man. She lifted a
turquoise dress and jacket from the bed and rooted about until she found
the toning shoes. Imagine him spending such a huge amount of money on
her! So crazy too! He really and truly had no concept of the life she
led or of her level in society compared with his own. Where the heck did
he think she would wear designer suits and fancy evening outfits?
Neither Timmie nor his nanny were in his room when she emerged from her
own. Holly descended the stairs, taking careful steps in the high heels.
Her heart was beating so fast with fear and nerves she felt sick. She
dawdled in the hall, scanning her reflection, once again barely
recognising herself. Who was that slender figure in the beautifully cut
jacket that just screamed class and expense?
A door swung open off the hall. 'Holly...hurry up,' Rio urged with
controlled exasperation.
Even talking like that, he was just so beautiful, Holly thought
painfully. And fear was unknown to him. Of course, he could not
understand or sympathise with her distress. Of course, her terror struck
him as being exaggerated and illogical. He had probably never been in a
situation he could not control. He did not know what it was to feel
powerless and at the mercy of others. Good and well-meaning people those
other parties might be, but sometimes they took terrifying and merciless
decisions.
A blonde older woman with cool blue eyes and a distinct air of
efficiency was seated in the drawing room and immediately addressed her.
'Miss Holly Sansom?' she queried, scanning Holly's appearance with
dubious brows raised like question marks.
'Yes...I'm Holly.'
Timmie was sitting on the rug with some toys and he chortled and held
out his arms when he saw his mother. In his fancy togs, he looked not
only like a baby who had swallowed a silver spoon at birth but a baby
who might well have swallowed an entire silver service. Scooping her son
up, Holly sat down with him on her lap and hugged him tight, her chin
resting on his sweet-smelling fluffy dark curls.
'Dr Coulter informed me that you're living here for the present, Miss
Sansom,' the blonde woman commented. 'Is that true?'
'Holly and I are getting married,' Rio imparted with the utmost casualness.
And that was just about that, bar a few minor comments. The blonde was
taken aback, but then she consulted the file in her lap and lifted her
gaze to study Timmie. Last of all, she directed her attention in a
discreet flicker at Rio and a
82
faint smile flickered at the corner of her lips. 'I'm so pleased that
the situation has been sorted out. Timmie looks very content.'
'I hope to adopt Timothy as my son,' Rio remarked.
The other woman nodded slowly but now looked slightly bemused before
finally wishing them all well and rising to leave.
Leaving Rio to take care of the courtesies, Holly just flopped where she
sat.
Rio strode back through the door again, lean, strong face taut. 'Miss
Elliott just assumed that Timothy was my child.'
Holly flushed to the roots of her hair and sat up with a start,
corkscrew curls bouncing. That possibility had not occurred to her, but
as soon as Rio suggested it she recalled the way the social worker had
behaved. 'Honestly? Did she say something on her way out?'
'She didn't need to. It was written all over her face. I suppose Timothy
has quite dark hair and that possible explanation for our marital plans
made the most sense to her. But I don't like anyone believing that I
would treat the mother of my child as you were treated by your son's
father. That's why I referred to my wish to adopt Timothy.' Having given
her that frank assurance and made her stiffen with embarrassed
discomfiture, Rio crossed the room to hunker down and survey her son,
whose big blue eyes were drowsy. 'He's amazing. He spends half the
morning getting fed and bathed and dressed and no sooner is he up and
about than he's ready for his cot again!'
Grateful for that distraction, Holly burbled, 'He's always slept a lot.
He's a good baby. You were really wonderful with Miss Elliott, Rio.' She
nibbled awkwardly at her lower lip as she thanked him for his support.
'Very convincing. I know you couldn't have enjoyed saying that about you
and me...but I'm very grateful and, no matter what happens, I'll never,
ever take a risk like that with my son again.'
Rio surveyed her strained expression with narrowed dark, glittering eyes
and frowned. 'I do believe we've been talking at cross purposes. We'll
discuss that after you've taken Timothy up for his nap.'
Cross purposes? What cross purposes? And how come she was only now
noticing how domineering his powerful personality could make Rio seem?
He came off with commands as if to the manner born. But then, she
supposed he had been born to that sort of stuff, she reflected
forgivingly, feeling truly guilty and ungrateful for thinking on such
lines after all he had done to help her.
What if you conceive again? a little voice sniped in the back of her
mind. Are you going to think of that as help too? Her tummy churned. She
adored her son but knew sh
e could not in her present circumstances cope
with a second child. But then Rio was already letting her know that he
would not abandon her, wasn't he? How come she had not immediately
recognised why he had made that speech about how he would not treat the
mother of his child in the manner that her ex-boyfriend had treated her?
But there was so much tension between them now. He was no longer relaxed
with her. That was what that reckless bout of lovemaking had done. It
had spoilt things, she reflected wretchedly, and cringed at the intimate
images teeming in her memory banks. Not once even yet had she managed to
look Rio directly in the face. Last night she had sobbed and begged and
pleaded for him to make love to her. There was no forgetting that. She
had been out of control, totally out of control and out of her depth,
but even she knew that men preferred a challenge to a push-over. Rio
Lombardi was hardly the sort of male who needed an adoring slave to
massage his ego. Women had to be falling
84
in the aisles around him, so he would want and expect more.
Nervous as a cat walking over hot coals, Holly returned to the drawing room.
Rio swung round from the window, tall, dark and immaculate in his
tailored business suit. 'When I said that we were getting married, it
wasn't some crazy story, cara.'
Not understanding his meaning, Holly stilled with a frown of confusion.
