The Baby Gambit

by Anne Mather

  ‘She told you that, did she?’ he asked distantly. ‘She told you I’d invited her to Valle di Falco? That I was eager to introduce her to my family?’

  ‘Yes.’ But Grace could feel her confidence waning as she tried to remember exactly what Julia had said. ‘At least—’ She made a concerted effort to speak honestly. ‘I suppose I could have assumed that’s what she meant’

  Matteo looked at her again, his dark eyes narrowed and intent. ‘So if I tell you I did not invite her to the Villa di Falco to meet my family, you’ll believe me?’

  Grace was confused. ‘But she did stay at the villa, didn’t she?’

  ‘At the villa, yes.’ Matteo blew out a breath. ‘She expressed an interest in the vineyard, and I agreed that the next weekend she had free she should come out and see our operation. Unfortunately, Julia took that to mean that I was inviting her for the weekend, and you obviously know the rest.’

  Grace frowned. Despite the fact that she didn’t want to believe him, what he was saying did have an unholy ring of truth. ‘Nevertheless.’ she said, forcing herself to go on, ‘you must have suspected how she would take it. You have been seeing one another for several months.’

  ‘If you say it’s six months, I must accept it,’ he said, spreading his hands. ‘But please don’t run way with the idea that Julia doesn’t understand our situation. We’ve had fun together, yes, but that’s all. I think she knows the time has come to move on.’

  ‘To move on?’

  Grace’s voice had risen alarmingly, and he regarded her with cool, narrowed eyes. ‘Why not?’ he asked. ‘There was no commitment, and she knew it. I have no intention of getting married again.’

  Grace’s throat was tight. ‘But—but you were lovers,’ she protested, and lines appeared to bracket Matteo’s mouth.

  ‘We slept together,’ he corrected her flatly. ‘This is not a lifetime’s commitment.’

  ‘But you said yourself that Julia would like to be married,’ Grace pointed out swiftly, wondering if she was doing her friend any favours by bringing it up.

  ‘Not to me,’ declared Matteo, with depressing certainty. ‘Now...’ He indicated her cup. ‘Drink up your coffee and I will take you home.’

  Grace pushed back her chair. ‘That won’t be necessary.’

  ‘Oh, please...’ Matteo sounded weary. ‘Let us not get into that again.’ He, too, got to his feet and came round the table to join her. ‘Now, unless you wish to cause another scene, shall we leave without discussing this any further?’

  Grace walked ahead of him out of the café, turning when they emerged onto the street to give him a guarded look. ‘I should warn you,’ she said, ‘I don’t sleep around.’

  His lips tightened. ‘Nor do I,’ he said, gesturing to where his car was parked on the quay. Then, when she still looked mutinous, he added heavily, ‘Grace, I am not your enemy. Now, do me the courtesy of letting me see you home.’

  She went with him because it was easier not to argue with him. Or, at least, that was what she told herself. And, after all, she had no desire to run the gamut of the young males she’d encountered on her way down here as she looked for a taxi, or to attract unwelcome attention by having a car tailing her all the way back to the apartment.

  Nevertheless, she felt a sense of impotence as he folded his lean frame into the seat beside hers. She didn’t want to be with him, she told herself, even as her eyes sought and reluctantly admired the powerful thighs that took control of the expensive car.

  He put his right arm along the back of her seat as he turned to reverse the vehicle out of its bay, and her spine stiffened almost instinctively at the nearness of his heated flesh. Her pulse, heightened by her unwilling reaction to him, beat madly in her ears as she turned away. She knew she’d never met a man who affected her so much physically before, and she wondered if she’d been fooling herself all these years by imagining that she was immune to her sexual needs.

  The one-way system of roads around the harbour meant he had to drive to the end of the quay before he could turn back towards the Via Cortese, and Grace sat stiffly beside him, wishing she had never left the villa. Apart from the very real anxiety she felt at the prospect of telling Julia she’d seen him, she was now in possession of facts that she really didn’t want to know.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Matteo asked, slowing at an intersection, and Grace wondered if it would do any good to tell him how she felt.

  ‘That Julia will probably kill you when she finds out you followed me into town,’ she said, not altogether truthfully. In actual fact, Julia was more likely to want to kill her! She cast a helpless look in his direction. ‘Don’t you care what she thinks at all?’

  ‘Dio mio!’ Matteo groaned. ‘I thought we had dealt with my relationship with Julia. She may be jealous, yes. But, believe me, Julia does not care about me.’

  Grace swallowed the retort that sprang to her lips. She wanted to say, She does. She wanted to say, She’s going to have your baby, and she expects you to marry her. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t up to her. It wasn’t even her problem. Yet she suspected it wasn’t going to be that simple, and that, for all her inhibitions, she was involved, whether she liked it or not.

  ‘Did you get a car?’ he asked as they reached the villa, and Grace, who had been caught up in the confusion of her thoughts, gazed at him with uncomprehending eyes. ‘You said you were going to hire a car,’ he reminded her, and she realised that as far as he was concerned nothing had changed. What was more, his expression was disturbingly tender, arousing emotions that Grace knew she had no right to feel.

  ‘I—’ She forced herself to concentrate on what he was saying. ‘Um—no, not yet. There hasn’t been time. I didn’t go out today,’ she added, aware that she was being far too generous in the circumstances. ‘After yesterday, I decided I needed some time to rest.’

  ‘After the conversation we had?’ he asked her mockingly, and to her dismay he cupped her cheek with his hand. His thumb scraped gently over the faint shadows beneath her eye. ‘Oh, Grace,’ he breathed softly, ‘what am I going to do with you?’

  ‘Let me go, I hope,’ retorted Grace sharply, but even to her own ears the words sounded brittle. When he bent his head towards her, it wasn’t totally unexpected, and when she felt his tongue brush across her lips her heart leapt painfully into her throat.

  He couldn’t do this, she told herself. He couldn’t hold her and kiss her when the woman to whom he owed his affection and his allegiance was upstairs in the apartment nurturing his child in her womb. And what kind of a friend was she for allowing it to happen? She had never had any time for men like him, so why was she letting him touch her now?

  The questions were easy enough, the answers rather harder to find. Both of his hands were cradling her face now, holding her still while his mouth moved back and forth against hers. His eyes were open, staring into hers, and although it was too dark to see their expression she could guess what he was thinking.

  ‘Sweet,’ he murmured huskily, and then, more hoarsely, ‘Cara; dolce amore,’ and Grace felt her senses reeling as those feather-light caresses gave way to an urgent possession.

  She gave in, if only briefly. For a fraction of a second, she couldn’t prevent herself from responding to the sensual addiction of his mouth. Its heat, its hunger, its consciencenumbing assault was so intensely pleasurable that she couldn’t resist, and she found herself craving its almost carnal sexuality long after she’d jerked away.

  That she did actually put an end to it was her only redeeming feature, she thought afterwards. It was the only thing she could point to as distinguishing her actions from his. And it wasn’t easy. Apart from the fact that Matteo didn’t want to let her go, the blood was pounding so madly through her veins, she could hardly hear herself think. Emotions she had long thought aborted were stirring dangerously, and the impulse to indulge them was an inevitable temptation.

  But somehow she managed to retain a small shred of sanity, so that when
he resisted her withdrawal she was able to find the strength to drag herself away. With an almost animal sound of anguish, she thrust open the door beside her and jackknifed out of the car, nearly turning her ankle in a grating as she stumbled towards the gate.

  It was hardly an elegant retreat. Almost tripping up the steps into the garden of the villa, she expected every moment to feel his hand reach for her arm or hear his angry voice in her ear.

  But she didn’t. He didn’t even follow her, angry or otherwise, and by the time she reached the arched doorway the roar of the powerful engine was just an echo in her ears. Oh, God, he was gone, she thought, and what the hell was she going to do now? No matter how much she might want to, she couldn’t tell Julia what had happened. Not in her condition. She was in an impossible situation, and she had no one to blame but herself.

  * * *

  Things didn’t look much brighter the next morning.

  Despite the fact that exhaustion had claimed her for most of the night, Grace awoke feeling heavy-eyed and weary. Even the relief she felt at discovering that Julia had already left for work seemed treacherous. Sooner or later, she would have to face her. The trouble was, she didn’t know what she was going to say.

  Perhaps it would be easier all round if she went back to England, she mused unhappily. All right, Julia was bound to wonder why she’d suddenly decided to leave, but better that than have her discover what had happened the night before. And, remembering that conversation, Grace felt doubly depressed. She was sure now that Julia was deluding herself in believing she could manipulate Matteo di Falco into taking responsibility for his child, let alone force him to marry her when he so obviously intended to remain single.

  Still, whatever decision she made, they needed to eat, and, determining not to let Matteo di Falco intimidate her, Grace dressed in shorts and a sleeveless polo shirt and left the apartment There was a salumeria or delicatessen just around the corner, and she was sure she could get everything she needed there.

  It was a little daunting leaving the villa, particularly as the caretaker hailed her as she was starting down the path. For one awful moment, she thought Matteo had been lying in wait for her, and her palms were moist as she turned round. But the old man only waved and shouted, ‘Buongiorno , signorina!’ and she swallowed to ease the sudden dryness in her throat as she returned his greeting.

  The phone was ringing when she got back to the apartment. She’d closed the door and started across the room to answer it before she paused to wonder who it might be. It could be Julia, she supposed, but surely her friend would assume she’d be out at this time of day. Grace had been talking of visiting Pisa the night before—before that disastrous foray into Portofalco.

  It might be one of her sisters, of course. It was a couple of days since she’d rung to check up on her mother, but she couldn’t imagine Pauline or Karen calling at this time of day when the charges were highest.

  Which only left Matteo di Falco, and she had no desire to speak to him. After last night’s little episode, she had hoped not to have to speak to him again, and the idea that he might still be trying to pursue that sordid little affair filled her with a mixture of frustration and disgust.

  Dumping her bags of shopping on the counter in the kitchen, she began unloading their contents into the fridge. She’d bought veal, and some of the delicious Parma ham that was produced locally, as well as vegetables and cheese, and the makings of a salad, which she’d planned to have for lunch. To her relief, the phone stopped ringing long before she was finished, and as soon as the bread was stowed in its earthenware container she walked out onto the balcony.

  The sun was almost overhead, the wrought-iron railing hot beneath her slim fingers. She’d half expected to see the dark green convertible parked in the street beyond the walled garden of the villa, but there were no vehicles in the immediate vicinity. Not that that meant anything, she assured herself. He could have called from anywhere.

  She sighed. While she’d been out, she’d almost managed to convince herself that she was exaggerating what had happened the night before. He’d only kissed her, for God’s sake! He hadn’t attempted to have sex with her or anything, and the things he’d said about his relationship with Julia could have been said to impress her. It didn’t say much for his fidelity, of course, but that wasn’t her problem, and if Julia was prepared to risk her future with a man like him that was her decision.

  But now Grace was on edge again. That phone call had proved how accessible she remained by staying here, and although she hadn’t answered it she couldn’t go on ignoring every call that came to the apartment. Or could she? Her lips twisted. One way or the other, she had to decide before Julia came home.

  She spent the afternoon reading. She’d brought several novels with her, and although up to now she hadn’t felt much like reading them today she felt the need for the escapism they offered.

  She was half asleep on the bamboo lounger on the balcony when Julia got home, and she blinked up at her friend in some confusion. ‘Is it that time already?’ she exclaimed, swinging her legs to the floor, and Julia shook her head at her as she subsided onto the other chair.

  ‘Relax,’ she said. ‘It’s only half-past four.’ But Grace could see that she was anything but relaxed. There was a kind of suppressed excitement about her friend that did little to calm her own nerves, and she realised she still hadn’t decided what she was going to do. ‘I didn’t think you’d be home yet. Didn’t you go to Pisa?’

  ‘Oh—no.’ Grace hoped Julia would put the sudden heightening of colour in her cheeks down to the sun. ‘I didn’t go out. Well, only briefly, anyway. It—it was too hot.’

  Julia frowned. ‘You didn’t go out?’

  ‘Just—shopping—’

  ‘But I rang at lunchtime and you didn’t answer.’

  ‘Was that you?’ Grace’s relief was tempered with impatience. She should have answered the phone. ‘It was ringing as I came back in, but—’

  ‘But you didn’t get to it in time. I know,’ Julia said. ‘Well—’ Now that earlier air of excitement surfaced again in the way she wrapped her arms about her midriff and hugged herself tightly. ‘I have something to tell you. Something fantastic! Guess what? Matt’s asked us both to Valle di Falco for the weekend!’

  No!

  Grace was horrified. ‘You mean—to the Villa di Falco?’ she asked faintly, so that Julia wouldn’t notice how shocked she must look. But her mind was racing with the knowledge that once again he had outmanoeuvred her.

  ‘Yes, to the villa,’ agreed Julia, too engrossed with her own feelings to notice how her friend might be taking this. ‘I was sure I’d blown it last weekend, what with the old lady being so standoffish and everything, but Matt said that I had overreacted and that the marchesa was looking forward to seeing us.’ She cast a mischievous glance in Grace’s direction. ‘Both of us, can you believe it? Maybe I’ve got you to thank for the invitation.’

  Grace gasped. ‘Oh, I don’t think—’

  ‘Nor do I, silly!’ exclaimed Julia impatiently. ‘I was only teasing. Obviously, they’ve included you because they know you’re my guest. That’s all.’

  ‘Then I won’t go.’

  ‘No, you must.’ Julia stared at her imploringly now. ‘I mean it, Grace. The invitation’s for us both, and the last thing I want to do is offend the old lady again.’

  Grace made a helpless gesture, any plans she might have had of leaving vanquished by the look on her friend’s face. But she was painfully aware of her own inexperience, nonetheless. To think she’d been worrying about him waiting for her outside the villa or pestering her with phone calls. How naïve she’d been. Instead of doing something she might have stood a chance of thwarting, he’d completely blindsided her, and short of telling Julia exactly what she thought of him and his invitation she was stuck. He was so damned arrogant, she thought bitterly. He must be very confident that she wouldn’t tell Julia what he’d done. She wished desperately that Julia wasn’
t pregnant so that she could do just that.

  ‘You will come, won’t you?’ Julia was pleading now. ‘You’ll enjoy it. It’s a beautiful place; a fabulous house. And you never know, you may be able to put in a good word for me with the marchesa.’

  Grace stifled a groan. ‘Oh, Julia...’

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ declared her friend triumphantly. ‘Oh, I can’t wait! A whole weekend with Matt. What a marvellous opportunity!’

  For whom? brooded Grace dully, wondering if she could possibly be wrong. Was she being as insufferably arrogant as he was in thinking that this whole scheme had been engineered for her benefit? She felt her nails digging into her palms. One way or another, she was going to find out.

  CHAPTER SIX

  IF GRACE had hoped—dreaded?—that she might find out before they left for Valle di Falco, she was disappointed. She had no way of contacting Matteo, even if she’d wanted to, and in the time that remained before they were to leave for the di Falcos’ villa she was kept busy doing chores for Julia.

  To begin with, Julia apparently employed no housekeeper, and the whole apartment needed a thorough cleaning by the end of the week. Plus, there were all the little errands that Julia expected her to run for her. It seemed her friend was always in need of something from the farmacia in the town, and if it hadn’t sounded so paranoid Grace might have wondered whether Julia wasn’t deliberately inventing things for her to do so she wouldn’t have time to think about changing her mind.

  She’d phoned home again, half hoping that her sisters were finding it difficult coping with their mother. But it seemed they were managing quite happily, which made Grace wonder why they hadn’t offered to help out before. She guessed the truth was that she had always been available, and without any family ties of her own they’d probably assumed she was glad of her mother’s company.

  And she was, mostly. It hadn’t been easy, of course, and when holidays had come around she would have welcomed some support. Her mother, she knew, was desperate not to be a burden to anybody, so Grace had always tried to avoid any arguments on her account.