by Penny Jordan
‘Ha!’ He gave a scornful laugh. ‘Love is for fools.’ Seeing her shocked face only egged him on further. ‘Love is a false state of mind, a fantasy one chooses to live in.’
‘You don’t believe in love? You don’t believe a man and a woman can love each other?’ She truly couldn’t comprehend the magnitude of his words, but Rico was only too happy to enlighten her.
‘Of course they can.’ Rico shrugged. ‘If they choose to mess up their lives. Look at Janey and Marco. Marco loved her, adored her, and in the end it killed him.’
‘But surely…?’ Catherine started, but Rico was on a roll now.
‘My parents.’ He held up his hands then clapped them together. ‘Sham! My father and Antonia.’ Again he clapped his hands. ‘Sham!’ Picking up the newspaper, he waved it for an angry moment before tossing it aside. ‘I bet this is full of happy couples telling the world how love saved the day. Only this time next year we will be reading how she drank too much, or he hit her.’ He clapped his hands together again. ‘More shams! Love is for fools, Catherine,’ Rico said firmly. ‘Love leaves you bleeding. The last thing I want or need in my life is a marriage that is a sham. But this way…’
His eyes narrowed and he eyed her thoughtfully, his voice low and husky but utterly determined as he continued. ‘You and I—well, I believe it could work. For centuries my ancestors decided their children’s fate, chose their partners for them. There was no love there, no stars in their eyes, no promises that their passion might conquer all—and there was no divorce,’ he added triumphantly. ‘No fools believing that love would get them through. They made a commitment, worked at their marriage, stuck at it even when times were hard. Maybe the old ways had some merit—’
‘Your argument is utterly, utterly flawed,’ Catherine interrupted. ‘Nobody got divorced in those days unless they were incredibly brave or incredibly rich. But it didn’t mean they were happy!’ She closed her eyes for a second, massaging her temples as she tried to assimilate Rico’s strange logic into the twenty-first century. ‘And it isn’t our parents choosing a suitable match; it’s two people—’
‘Two people who want the same thing,’ Rico broke in, refusing to move an inch. ‘Two people with a vested interest. Love doesn’t have to come into it. Love cannot come into it. There is too much at stake to lose our heads. This is the right thing,’ he added. He was speaking more softly now, but there was no mistaking the determination in his voice. ‘Lily needs a mother figure, needs some security, and if we don’t unite and present a proper case Antonia and my father will pull out all the stops to ensure a bloody, messy court battle. This is the only way.’
‘But the social workers will never believe that our marriage is anything other than one of the shams you so vehemently abhor.’
‘Why?’ He was almost shaking her now. ‘When it isn’t one? We both know the rules from the start. No talk of love, no promises we can surely never keep. We will tell them the truth—that there was an instant attraction when we first met a year ago and it flared again last night.’ His hands tightened their grip, his face so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. But there was nothing tender in his touch, no affection in the arms that held her. ‘Of course we won’t shatter their illusions with the seamier side of your nature, Catherine. Naturally they don’t need to know that you are merely following in your sister’s footsteps, ensuring that your future will be very much taken care off. Apart from that, there is no lie.’
But there was.
One touch, one look from Rico and she was a gibbering mess. With just one show of tenderness, one crook of his finger she had tumbled into bed with him. To deny that love was involved was the biggest lie of all…for Catherine, at least.
‘We both care for Lily,’ Rico continued, taking her distraction as a motion to continue, ‘so we decided to accelerate things—build on our attraction to provide Lily with a stable home. When they hear that you are prepared to give up work—’
‘No!’ Her response was immediate, a knee-jerk reaction, and the single word came out with more force than she’d intended. As his eyes narrowed Catherine took a deep breath, adjusting her tone, but though her voice was softer there was no mistaking her determination. ‘I’m not giving up work, Rico. Maybe I don’t make millions, like you do, but my job is equally important. I’m a teacher,’ she insisted to her unreceptive audience. ‘I can’t just walk out mid-term.’
‘So teachers don’t have children?’ Rico asked with annoying logic. ‘Are you telling me that teachers around the world plan their pregnancies to fit in with term time?’
‘Of course not,’ Catherine wailed in frustration. ‘You’re impossible, Rico,’ she shouted. ‘Impossible and—and…’
‘And what? Come on, Catherine, say what you have to.’
‘Contrary to what you choose to believe, Rico, I’m too much of a lady to say what I really think of you. But tell me this—why does it have to be the woman who gives up work? Why should it be the woman?’
‘Do you really expect me to play house husband!’ It was Rico laughing incredulously now. ‘You expect me to walk away from my job to change nappies and go to the park each day to feed the ducks? I am a Mancini,’ he said pompously, as if his surname alone closed the discussion. But Catherine refused to be silenced—refused to be intimidated by his arrogant name dropping, even if the name was Rico’s own.
‘And I’m a Masters.’ Her brown eyes flared and Rico’s mouth snapped closed. ‘And I’ve worked just as hard as you to get where I am. Maybe I don’t make millions, Rico, maybe it won’t appear on the news if I decide to walk away from my work. But I have twenty-eight students relying on me to give them an education and I happen to believe I’m making a difference. So don’t try to belittle me, Rico. Don’t assume I measure my self-worth by your cold standards.’
‘I apologise.’ For a nanosecond she thought she’d won, thought she had actually made a dent in that cold black heart, but as her eyes flashed to his Catherine knew her victory was short-lived. ‘Of course you will work. You will carry on living in your tiny cramped flat and go on living the life you so clearly relish.’ Sarcasm dripped off every word as he mercilessly continued. ‘But tell me, Catherine, how do you intend to pay for all this? Surely if you work Lily will need full-time care?’
‘There are day-care centres,’ Catherine retorted. ‘Crèches. Lots of women juggle babies with a career!’
‘Do you know the price of full-time childcare?’
‘Oh, and you do?’ Catherine snapped.
‘Yes.’ His smile was anything but friendly. ‘Contrary to what you undoubtedly believe, I pride myself in looking after my staff. Along with their other perks, I decided some years ago to subsidise my working mothers’ childcare. It made good business sense: not only do I retain good workers, I am repaid tenfold by their loyalty.’
Damn!
She’d walked into that one. But Catherine consoled herself—it wasn’t her fault. Never in a million years could she have seen it coming. Rico Mancini and the reputation that preceded him didn’t exactly conjure up the words ‘caring’ and ‘sensitive’. How the hell could she have known he was in the running for the Employer of the Year Award?
But Rico hadn’t quite finished twisting the knife.
‘Now, call me pedantic if you will, but occasionally I even manage to run an eye over the cheques I sign. So you see, Catherine, I am well aware of the cost of good childcare. So I’ll ask again—how do you intend to fund this latest acquisition? How are you going to make the jump from single professional woman to single professional working mother?’
‘I’ll find a way,’ Catherine insisted, her mind racing.
‘How?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her fingers raked through her hair as she stalled for time, frantically trying to come up with an answer. ‘I’ll manage—women do. Lily will have some…’ Her eyes widened in horror, the steel of the trap Rico had laid for her closing around like a vice.
‘Some what, Catherine?’
<
br /> Colour was whooshing up her cheeks now. Like a trapped animal she darted her eyes around the room, desperate for escape, for some breathing space. The percolator was still dripping, but instead of images of second cups it reminded her of Chinese water torture—relentless questions that demanded answers, Rico twisting and turning the facts until his truth was fashioned.
‘Shall I finish that for you, Catherine? Lily will have some money. Is that what you were about to say?’ She didn’t respond. Not that Rico gave her much option. ‘There will be no childcare.’ Rico’s eyes were menacing now, his hands gripping her wrists as he spelt out the rules. ‘That baby has had enough of being palmed off, enough of strangers caring for her. If we do this then we do it right, Catherine. You will have a nanny, a housekeeper—all the staff you need. But Lily’s day-to-day care will be provided by you. You will not work.’
‘I’m not even discussing this.’ Shaking his hand off, she moved away, refusing to look at him as she worked the room, picking up her clothes, trying to locate her shoes, shaking her head in furious disbelief when Rico relentlessly continued.
‘We have to show the court commitment. We cannot expect Lily to slot into our lives with no sacrifices.’
‘I’m not afraid of sacrifice,’ she called over her shoulder, heading into the bathroom and putting her clothes down over the rail, then wailing in frustration as he came up behind her. ‘Why aren’t I surprised you followed me in? Look, Rico, you do your best and I’ll do mine. But there is no way, no way at all, that a marriage between us could work.’
‘Why?’ He seemed genuinely bemused, genuinely confused at her outright refusal to even consider it. ‘We have a niece who needs a home, we are clearly sexually compatible, and there is a chance you are carrying my child, Catherine. I’d say we have three very good reasons to be married—three very good reasons indeed.’
Suddenly Catherine felt panicky and out of control. Actually, not so suddenly—since Rico had reappeared on the scene her responses could hardly be classed as normal. But yesterday, in the daze of grief, watching Lily with a bleeding heart, it had been so easy to say yes, to put up her hand and say of course she was up to it. But now, in the cold light of day, the ramifications were starting to hit home.
This wasn’t a puppy or a goldfish she was thinking of taking on while the owners went overseas. This was a baby, a living, breathing baby, and the commitment was for ever. She didn’t even have the luxury of nine months to come round to the idea.
Even though Rico never moved she could almost feel the mental snap of his fingers, forcing her into decision. Time was not on their side.
‘Why do all the sacrifices have to come from me?’ Catherine protested again. ‘I happen to like my life, Rico. I like my job, my flat, my social life, and you’re asking me to throw it all away.’
‘You almost sound convincing. Come on, Catherine, let’s not pretend—this is what you’ve always wanted.’
‘You’re so pompous.’ A sob of frustration fuelled her words. ‘So damned sure that this is what I want.’
‘Isn’t it?’ He gave a mocking smile that only fed her fury.
‘You tell me to jump and I’m supposed to ask how high! Why should it be me making all the sacrifices? What are you giving up?’
‘Oh, there will be sacrifices on my part.’ He gave a malicious smile. ‘You have every right to expect fidelity.’
His words hurt more than Catherine expected. The thought of him with another woman was more vile than she could contemplate; jealousy reared its head just at the mere thought.
‘I wouldn’t just expect it, Rico—I would demand it.’
‘So we are agreed, then?’ Triumph glittered in his eyes, but faded as Catherine firmly shook her head.
‘I have agreed to nothing.’ Still she shook her head, but less firmly now, and there was bemusement in her voice as she carried on talking. ‘Why, when you clearly think so little of me, Rico, would you want me for your wife? You said yourself I disgust you, and you think all I want from Lily is wealth, so why on earth would you ask me to marry you?’
He stared at her for the longest time, his eyes holding hers. His voice, when it came, was low and measured. ‘Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer,’ he said softly, but without any trace of tenderness. ‘Surely you have heard that saying, Catherine?’
‘When did I become the enemy, Rico?’ Catherine asked, perplexed eyes scanning his. Her voice was softer now. She was genuinely bemused at the stranger who stood before her now, such a stark contrast to the caring, gentle lover who had held her last night. The man who had reached out in the darkness and kept her afloat through the loneliest hours of her life. ‘You know, I almost feel sorry for you, Rico.’ Catherine let out a low, hollow laugh. ‘I’m starting to think you’d actually prefer for me to be some scheming little gold-digger than—heaven forbid—a real woman, with real feelings.’
‘Save it, Catherine,’ he clipped. ‘You’re not impressing anyone. You see, I know what you really think of me. I know how Janey felt about Marco and I can prove it to you.’ His words silenced her, his voice so cold that Catherine swore her heart stilled for a second. ‘When I saw you at the wedding, Catherine, so proud, so apart from everyone else, I lost my head.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Lost my head over a woman I had never even met. All I knew was that I had to talk to you, to get to know you. I’ve dealt with a million Esthers in my time, yet I used her as an excuse to come over. I had to be with you.’
There was a raw note to his voice now, the urgency she had witnessed in her own emotions, and she blinked back at him, listening as his story unfolded. She was scarcely able to believe that this beautiful, beautiful man could have been so moved, so enthralled that he would engineer a meeting with her—scarcely able to believe that, however fleetingly, however transitory, for a slice of time he had adored her.
‘Had to be with you,’ he reiterated, and Catherine felt her heart trip back into action, flickering like a bird against her ribcage as she recalled that night from his perspective. ‘What happened in the hotel didn’t disgust me, Catherine. What happened in that hotel room was as inevitable as night following day. From the second I laid eyes on you I had to have you, Catherine. There could only ever have been one outcome. It was what happened after that disgusted me.’
A gasp escaped her lips as the words shot out of his mouth. Hazy, best forgotten recollections came cruelly into focus as Rico gave a poor imitation of Janey’s voice.
“‘Play your cards right, sis, and all this could be yours!”’
Even if the imitation was lousy, each and every shameful word hit its mark. ‘Fool I was, I came looking for you, Catherine—and, my God, I’m glad I did. Glad that I found out in time your true motives. You ask why I stayed away, you ask why I barely went round to see my niece? Well, there is your reason. I knew Janey was using my brother, knew because I’d heard it from her own mouth, and if I’d spent more than five minutes in the same room as Janey I’d have told Marco—told him that his lovely young wife was nothing more than a cheap, conniving tart.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Appalled, she stammered as she spoke, ‘Sorry that you had to hear all that—sorry that you found out that way.’
‘I’m not,’ Rico responded coolly. ‘In fact, though I admit I was disappointed at the time, I’m glad I heard Janey’s take on things. ‘Those were Janey’s words,’ Catherine pointed out, but Rico remained unmoved.
‘Perhaps, but I didn’t hear you putting up too much of an argument.’
‘Just because she felt like that it doesn’t mean that I do too. And whatever you heard, whatever was said, deep down, I believe that Janey did love him—that somewhere in her heart…’ She shook her head slightly. Janey and Marco faded temporarily into the distance as a deeper realisation hit home. ‘You came looking for me?’
He gave a curt nod—such a contrast to her stumbling confusion.
‘But why?’ Catherine begged. ‘Why did you come looking for me?’ Her mind
was skidding into overdrive. Her focus had shifted now, a million rights wronged as a lens clicked and Rico’s perspective of the night shifted into focus. Suddenly the world was clearer, finally his indifference was explained—but the hope that shone in her eyes was doused in an instant by the utter contempt in his.
‘I was hoping to finish what we’d started.’ His lips curled cruelly around each and every word, singeing her hope with a vile hiss as he relentlessly continued. ‘What?’ he snapped as she recoiled in horror. ‘Did you really think it would be for anything else? That Rico Mancini could really want anything more from you?’
His hand snaked along the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in the mane of hair, pulling her towards him. But there wasn’t a shred of tenderness behind his movements, and his eyes were black and cruel, oblivious to her pain as he twisted the knife deeper in her bleeding heart. ‘We had unfinished business, Catherine. That is the only reason I came back, and don’t ever forget it.’
‘So now that’s out of the way, can I go ahead and arrange the wedding?’ She would not allow him to see how much he had hurt her. Proudly, defiantly she stared back, refusing to be intimidated, refusing to let him see the black hole her heart had once been. ‘Well, you certainly know how to propose in style, Mr Mancini.’
‘This is the only way you will get Lily, Catherine. The only chance we have against Antonia.’
‘So you’ll marry a woman you despise for the sake of your niece? A woman you loathe, who under any other circumstances wouldn’t be fit to be your wife?’
‘Absolutely,’ Rico responded, without missing a beat. ‘To keep my family safe I would do anything, and Lily is my blood, Catherine.’ He smiled then, but there was nothing reassuring about it. ‘You put yourself down, though, Catherine. I never said I loathed you, never said I despised you—in fact I have a grudging respect for a woman who knows what she wants, a woman who just like me is prepared to do anything to get it. Your words,’ he added, his hand still working the nape of her neck.
Inexplicably, after the most vile of accusations, the cruel deliverance of his speech, a stinging awareness remained, and his touch was a guilty pleasure she would never admit to.
