The Italian's Wife

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The Italian's Wife Page 18

by Lynne Graham


  'Well, it's not mine.' Holly's temper fired. 'I got the interview on my

  own merits and I'm proud of that and I intend to show up-'

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  His lean, dark, devastating face set hard. 'But I said no.' Holly

  smoothed an unsteady hand down over her skirt but kept her chin high.

  'Don't I have the right to disagree with you?'

  'Not when I know better. You're not making the Lombardi name a laughing

  stock by chasing after some menial job,' Rio decreed with cutting emphasis.

  Holly paled. 'So let's get this straight...if I was a brain surgeon or

  something snobby or important you would have a different attitude. But,

  as I'm only capable of work that you consider menial, I have to stay

  home to conserve your dignity.'

  'As you're not a brain surgeon, I don't think we need discuss that

  angle. Come on,' Rio urged ruefully. 'Go and change into something

  livelier for the races.' 'No.'

  'In a minute you're going to be chaining yourself to the railings

  outside the house like a suffragette fighting for the vote,' Rio

  countered very drily. 'Be sensible. I work very long hours. When I'm

  around, I want you around too-'

  'Did anyone ever tell you that you can be very domineering? And the sort

  of bloke who has to control everything around him?' Holly paused and

  then went on, 'If I want to work, I will work.' 'Is that your last

  word?' Holly nodded without hesitation.

  Rio surveyed her with a level of brooding dissatisfaction that would

  once have filled her with instant wholehearted panic. Then, swinging on

  his heel, he mounted the stairs and left her standing there.

  An hour later, while Holly waited her turn with the other applicants

  called for interview, she began to wonder exactly what she was doing

  there. Was she happy to leave Timothy solely to Sarah's care for half of

  every week? Hadn't she

  neglected to take into account the other demands on her time? Was she

  going to drop out of her Italian lessons? Shouldn't she be taking a more

  hands-on interest in the running of her own home?

  In addition, Rio led a busy social life. They had already dined out once

  that week, with the directors of the Lombardi Foundation, an occasion

  that had not been half so intimidating as she had feared. And that very

  evening they had a big private party to attend. As Rio's wife she had to

  look good at such events and that meant more than running a last-minute

  brush through her hair and wearing the first thing that came out of her

  wardrobe.

  Suppressing a rueful sigh, Holly decided that there was no point

  whatsoever in putting herself through an interview for a job she did not

  even want. Only pride and the suggestion that she might be a gold-digger

  had sent her off in search of a job in the first place. Indeed, she had

  stood up to Rio purely on principle and she knew that her stubborn

  refusal to give way had shocked him.

  Evidently, the husband who had told her that she would have to lead her

  own life hadn't really meant it. She started to smile then. Just as he

  had once carelessly admitted, Rio was spoilt. Alice adored her only son.

  Holly imagined others of her sex had added to that spoiling even by the

  time Rio became a teenager. He was drop-dead gorgeous and rich and

  absolutely charming...as long as he got what he wanted. Which, most of

  the time, he did. And why not, when he made her so happy?

  Arriving back home, she was disappointed to learn that Rio had returned

  to his office at Lombardi Industries. Around three she went to get her

  hair done. Sly, the owner of the salon, who had long since grasped the

  fact that Holly was not Rio's imaginary cousin, Fiammetta, and had done

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  so with very good grace, always gave Holly her personal attention.

  'I hear Christabel didn't get that big cosmetics contract she was up

  for,' Sly remarked when she began trimming Holly's hair. 'But then,

  let's face it, she's not getting any younger...'

  After telling herself that she was about to do the decent thing and

  change the subject, Holly heard herself saying instead, 'What age is she?'

  'She's got to be over thirty...' Sly lowered her head to continue more

  confidentially, 'She's supposed to be pretty difficult to work with. A

  lot of people in the business don't like her. It makes you think that

  some of the juiciest rumours about her have to be true.'

  'Rumours?' Holly was ashamed of herself, deeply ashamed, but she was as

  hooked as a fish on a line to the other woman's every word,

  "The big cosmetics companies are very careful of their image and they

  expect the model they select as a figurehead to have a clean

  reputation.. .and Christabel, well, I've heard that she does;- Oh,

  excuse me.'

  As a stylist interrupted Sly with a query the brunette broke off what

  she had been saying and left Holly seething with curiosity. But the

  minute of reflection that followed sobered Holly and made her face burn.

  It was truly awful of her to be listening to gossip about Christabel.

  Rio would kill her. Rio would expect better of her. For goodness' sake,

  didn't she expect better of herself?

  'Can we change the subject?' Holly asked when Sly returned to her.

  'But we were having so much fun doing down Christabel,' Sly pointed out

  in amazement.

  'I'm sorry...I know I encouraged you, but talking about her makes me

  feel bad.'

  'That's what I keep on telling people about you. Sweet sincerity shines

  out of you. I bet Rio was blinded by the comparison between you and that

  female we're not going to mention again. My final word on the subject?

  Rio had an incredibly lucky escape.'

  On the drive home Holly gathered her courage and stopped off at the same

  designer outlet where Rio had once taken her shopping. She wanted to buy

  an outfit that Rio hadn't seen before, something that he hadn't chosen

  for her. And she found it: a strappy short dress that was wholly

  feminine in design and made of glorious fabric that shone like pure,

  opulent gold beneath the lights.

  Clad in her new lingerie, a daring combination of gossamer-thin

  lace-topped stockings, oyster silk panties and a matching strapless bra,

  she was putting the finishing touches to her make-up, which she had

  laboured long and hard over, when a knock sounded on the bathroom door.

  She opened it, focused on a silk tie and automatically tipped back her

  head to connect with the dark golden eyes she loved, saying, 'Be

  honest...does this eyeshadow make me look like a panda with a hangover?'

  'Santo cielo...' Rio murmured huskily. 'That bad?' Holly groaned in

  frustration. 'I've wiped it all off once already and I'll die if I have

  to do it again!'

  'You look totally fantastic just as you are, bella mia,' Rio said very

  slowly.

  Comprehension sinking in, Holly watched her husband literally trail his

  hotly appreciative gaze over her scantily clad body and she reddened and

  threw the mascara wand in her hand at him. 'My eyes, Rio!'

  He caught the wand in one lean brown hand and threw back his arrogant

  dark head, raw amuse
ment dancing in his dark-lashed gaze, a slashing

  smile of shameless acknowledgement

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  on his mouth. 'Gorgeous... all of you, absolutely gorgeous. How long do

  we have before we have to leave?'

  'Rio...' Her breath caught in her throat at the smouldering glitter in

  his scrutiny. His effect on her was instantaneous. A slow simmer of heat

  rose inside her, spread at wanton speed to sensitive places. Her nipples

  tingled and tightened and pushed against the cups of her bra and a tiny

  tightening sensation pulled deep in the pit of her stomach and made her

  press her thighs together.

  'We have more important things to think about,' Rio imparted rather

  raggedly.

  'Have we?'

  'I was a real bastard earlier. How did the interview go?'

  'The...interview?' Holly coloured, averted her gaze, not yet ready to

  admit that she had dropped out in advance of it. 'OK...fine.'

  Rio spread his hands in an expressive motion. 'I personally feel that

  the wisest solution is for you to work somewhere in the Lombardi empire.

  Now, before you start saying that's nepotism, listen to the pros and

  cons...'

  'Pros and cons...' Holly parroted, hugely taken aback by his suggestion.

  'Your hours would be negotiable- So if I want us to take off somewhere

  for a break at short notice, or even have you accompany me on a business

  trip, there won't be a problem.'

  'I see...'

  'Of course, you will have to do some business courses first, and some of

  our company courses are quite demanding. But, when you're so keen to

  have a career, I can't see that being a problem. You just haven't had

  the opportunities before but now you do,' Rio informed her with

  satisfaction.

  The silence lay, a silence of expectancy.

  Holly was aghast. She was seeing demanding business courses stretching

  interminably into her future and cringing from the prospect. But after

  all the noise she had made about working, how was she supposed to turn

  round and tell him she had changed her mind? Especially when he had made

  such an effort to alter his own outlook on her behalf. Why were men so

  obtuse sometimes? 'Holly?' Rio prompted.

  Holly swallowed hard and forced a weak smile. 'You're being really

  supportive. I'll think the idea over.'

  'I have a surprise for you, cara. Put out your hand and close your

  eyes,' Rio urged.

  Her mascaraed lashes clogged together. She felt him slide something onto

  her left hand and she untangled her lashes to look.

  'Six-week anniversary present,' Rio imparted. A fabulous sapphire and

  diamond ring now sat next to her wedding ring. Her throat closed over.

  When he went on a guilt trip, he really worked hard at it, she

  reflected, tears stinging her eyes. 'It's just gorgeous...' she said in

  a wobbly voice.

  'What are you crying for?'

  'I'm not crying,' she swore chokily. 'Look, I'd better get

  dressed.'

  'Spoilsport,' he murmured huskily.

  She had had to fall like a ton of bricks for him to discover that

  sometimes she loved him so much it literally hurt to think about it.

  The party was held in a huge town house by a very fashionable

  middle-aged couple. The decor seemed to have a gothic theme, or maybe it

  was just the party theme, Holly thought, but there was a giant mural of

  dragons adorning one end of the vast main room and the lights were dim

  and the air heavy with the scent of incense. Huge mirrors hung

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  on the walls and veiled marble statues lurked in dim corners.

  'You've got some strange friends,' Holly told Rio.

  'Frank and Lily are very conventional but they slavishly follow every

  fashion trend,' Rio informed her with amusement. "The next time you

  visit it will all have changed.'

  Holly saw Christabel make her entrance, could not really have missed it

  even had she tried. Wearing a shimmering, extremely short white dress

  that caressed every curve of her perfect body, Christabel turned every

  head in the room, both male and female.

  As Holly sat there frozen by dismay and an instant sense of being under

  threat, Rio drawled softly, 'I'm afraid that on some occasions you will

  have to get used to seeing her around.'

  'Did you know she was going to be here?'

  'I didn't even think about it,' Rio countered in a decided tone of

  exasperation.

  Holly then noticed that Christabel had a very presentable male companion

  in tow and the sight soothed her. She knew what Rio was telling her and

  wished she hadn't commented. Christabel had a perfect right to go where

  she liked.

  An hour later she watched Rio's ex-fiancée putting on a stunning

  exhibition of salsa dancing and generally becoming the life and soul of

  the party. By her side, Rio got quieter and quieter. When he had asked

  her to dance she had said no. She didn't know how to do salsa but now

  everyone was doing it and doing it with real style.

  While Rio was at the other end of the room chatting to their host his

  cousin, Jeremy strolled up. 'Would you like to dance?'

  'No, thanks.'

  'You shouldn't let Christabel get you down,' Jeremy said

  bluntly.

  'Oh, is she here? I hadn't noticed.' Holly knew she was sulking and

  feeling sorry for herself but she was unable to stop. She felt so plain,

  so colourless in comparison to Christabel. Why had Rio become so silent?

  Maybe he was jealous. Maybe seeing Christabel with another man annoyed

  him. How could it not annoy him, for goodness' sake? Christabel was just

  so unbelievably gorgeous, she

  conceded miserably.

  Jeremy drifted off again and Holly watched Christabel giggle in company

  with their hostess, Lily. And then something happened. The older woman's

  face froze and she turned on her heel and stalked over to her husband

  and Rio. Christabel returned to her table and lifted her handbag to

  rifle through it. Then the dancers screened her from view. But when

  Holly glanced back at Rio for the first time she saw him looking in

  Christabel's direction, lean, strong face taut, his tension

  unmistakable. Suddenly Holly's heart felt as if it was thundering at the

  base of her throat and threatening to choke her. As if in a dream, she

  watched Rio cut a path across the crowded floor, making a beeline for

  Christabel. Then she saw her husband standing with his ex-fiancée in the

  circle of his arms and she couldn't believe it. Her very worst nightmare

  was coming true before her eyes but she could not believe it.

  But Christabel's head was down on his shoulder, her hair trailing across

  his dark jacket like a blonde banner. Some people had even stopped

  dancing to stare. The taste of bile in her dry mouth, Holly watched

  sickly as Rio, with a supportive arm wrapped round Christabel, walked

  her out of

  the room.

  Holly sat very still, just staring into space, eyes burning

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  in her sockets, tummy cramping with nausea. She was horribly conscious

  of the surge of comment washing round the room in a tidal wave. She

  couldn't
hear it because of the music but she could see and feel it: the

  heads moving together, the clumping up of couples into bigger groups,

  the agonising moment when she accidentally collided with a speculative

  glance.

  Jeremy appeared in front of her. 'Rio called me on my mobile. He asked

  me to keep you company.'

  Rio had phoned Jeremy? Rio had actually left the party with Christabel?

  Her husband had just walked out and left her stranded in front of an

  audience? Well, where did you think he was going with her? she asked

  herself numbly.

  'I want to go home.' Holly got up, legs trembling, wanting some magic

  process to transport her outside, away from the watching eyes and the

  clattering tongues. Never in her life had she felt more humiliated.

  Never had she dreamt that Rio would do such a thing to her.

  There was no sign of their host and hostess, which was a relief. Jeremy

  tucked Holly into a cab as if she might shatter into pieces if he wasn't

  careful. He climbed in beside her.

  'There's no need for you to come with me,' Holly said woodenly.

  Jeremy's phone started playing some ludicrously upbeat tune. He handed

  it to her. 'It's Rio...'

  'Holly, I'm really sorry but I honestly didn't have a choice,' Rio

  breathed in bleak undertone. 'Look, we'll talk later.'

 

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