Carrie pulled herself upright. What the devil was going on? Was the house on fire? Was somebody ill? Suddenly a little anxious, she jumped out of bed.
The bell was still ringing. It must be Signora Rossi, she decided, not bothering to pull on her dressing gown as she headed for the door. Poor woman. Whatever the problem was she sounded quite frantic!
Pushing back her tousled hair, she reached for the doorknob. ‘Signora Rossi, what on earth’s the matt—?’
The final syllable of the word hung unspoken in the air, for suddenly Carrie was blinking in disbelief.
It wasn’t Signora Rossi on the doorstep.
It was Leone.
‘I’d forgotten how soundly you sleep. I’ve been leaning on that bell for at least ten minutes.’
And though he smiled as he said it the smile never reached his eyes. Not for one moment did they lose their dark, troubled look.
But Carrie didn’t notice that. She was too shocked to notice anything. For at the sight of him her poor heart had done a somersault in her chest as a shaft of mingled pain and pleasure shot through her. She’d been quite certain that she would never set eyes on him again and she realised now just how terrible that would have been. Though seeing him, in truth, was almost as terrible. To look at him was to feel the full weight of her loss.
She struggled to push back the pain as she looked into his face. ‘What are you doing here?’ Her tone was flat and accusing. ‘Do you have any idea what time it is?’
Had he been out at some nightclub with his friends? she was wondering, eyeing the immaculate dark blue suit he was wearing. And had he decided, just for a bit of sport, to come and wake her up? Perhaps there was some woman waiting for him outside in his car? Could it be that he had come here in order to humiliate her? Remembering what had passed between them last time, all these things seemed quite possible.
‘Yes, I know what time it is, but I have to speak to you.’ As he made this announcement Leone was standing squarely in the doorway as though not even a brigade of Guards would shift him. He added, narrowing his eyes at her, ‘Caterina tells me you’re leaving tomorrow.’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘That’s rather sudden.’
‘I’ve finished my work here.’ She tilted her chin at him. ‘And I have nothing to stay for.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you do.’
His eyes swept over her for a moment, making Carrie suddenly very conscious that she was wearing only a flimsy nightslip. In order to conceal herself a little—which she knew was pretty silly, for he had seen all this and more on plenty of occasions!—she began to edge the door shut just a little.
But instantly Leone was reaching out to stop her. ‘I’m sorry, but I must insist,’ he said, pushing the door open again. ‘You and I have got to talk.’
‘What about?’ All at once her heart was clattering. ‘As you said the other day, we have nothing to talk about.’
What did he want? she was wondering, her hand still on the door. Why was he being so insistent? And she felt totally torn, one terrified part of her wanting to demand that he leave immediately, for what could he have to say to her that she would want to hear? All he was likely to offer her were more insults and more pain.
But still she hesitated, a tiny spark of hope flickering. She was mad, of course, but she could not send him away.
So, when he insisted, ‘Yes, we do. And we must talk now,’ she smothered her terror and answered,
‘You’d better come in.’
As he stepped into the hall Carrie quickly switched on the sitting-room light. ‘Wait in there,’ she told him before darting into her bedroom to retrieve her cotton dressing gown from where it lay over the wicker chair. It wasn’t much of a protection, but she might feel a little less vulnerable with it on!
But when she emerged, tying the belt, she felt as vulnerable as ever as she caught sight of him in the sitting room, impatiently pacing the floor. He looked troubled, edgy, a tiger pacing its cage. And I’m the one he’s going to pounce on and devour, she thought bleakly.
And it seemed she was right. As she stepped through the doorway he swung round abruptly to confront her with a snarl. ‘Why did you tell me that Bud was your boyfriend?’
‘And who says he isn’t?’
Carrie was taken by surprise. What on earth had prompted him to ask questions about Bud? And something else had surprised her, for in the brightly lit sitting room she could see that he wasn’t looking quite as immaculate as she’d first thought. The dark blue suit was a little crumpled, his shirt undone at the collar, and she could see now that dark, troubled look in his eyes.
She felt a sudden flash of sharp, unfocused anxiety. She frowned at him. ‘What have you been up to? Why are you here?’
‘What have I been up to?’ He frowned back at her as he answered. ‘I had an official dinner at the palace, then I drove Caterina to the airport.’ He paused and the furrow between his brows grew deeper. ‘Which brings me to the answer to your question. . . It was Caterina who told me that Bud isn’t your boyfriend.’
Carrie said nothing, just stared at him mutinously. Why should she admit that Bud wasn’t a boyfriend when he took such pleasure in flaunting his girlfriends in her face?
He was continuing, ‘It came out completely by chance. She just happened to mention, as we were driving to the airport, that you were flying back to New York tomorrow. I made some cutting comment about you going back to see Bud, your lover, and she laughed and told me I’d got it all wrong, that Bud was nothing more than a friend.’
He took a step towards her, his expression menacing, as though he might take hold of her and shake the truth out of her. The blue eyes glinted. ‘Well?’ he demanded.
‘Well, maybe she’s right. And maybe she isn’t.’
Carrie wanted to step away, but couldn’t quite bring herself to do so. The scent of him was in her nostrils. Intoxicating. Making her heart weep. She wanted to grab him and kiss him, and equally she wanted to hit him. Why did he have to torture her like this?
She let out a gasp of frustration. ‘What’s it to you?’
‘What’s it to me?’ The blue eyes pierced her. Then, before she could stop him, he had grabbed her by the shoulders, his fingers like vices, digging into her flesh. ‘I thought we had something going. Something special. And then you come and tell me you already have a boyfriend.’ He gave her a sharp shake. ‘Well, is it true or not?’
“Something special!” And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Suddenly, something snapped inside Carrie, and as anger filled her she tore herself free of him. ‘How can you talk about “something special” when you’ve been bedding that brunette? And not just bedding her, boasting about it to me as well!’
She barged on, feeling her outrage carry her along like a floodtide. ‘But I knew what you were like. I should never have had anything to do with you. Men like you don’t change. It’s like a sickness in you.’ As all her misery welled up, her voice caught on a sob. ‘All I ever was to you was just another notch in your belt!’
‘No, you were never that.’
He was very still as he looked down at her, as though he wanted to take hold of her but did not quite dare.
‘When I first saw you,’ he continued, ‘I confess the attraction was largely physical, but once I got to know you it soon became much more than that. . .’
And now, at last, he did reach out and touch her. He laid a hand, as soft as thistledown, against her arm. The blue eyes poured over her.
‘Carrie, I love you.’
At last, he had said it. But Carrie was close to weeping. She looked back at him in misery. ‘How can I believe that?’
‘For a start, by facing the fact that I’m not what you say I am. I’m not the kind of man you’re talking about at all.’ He frowned. ‘I thought you knew me well enough by now to know that.’
‘I thought I did too, but I don’t any more.’ Carrie’s eyes were so blurry, she couldn’t see a thing.
�
��Then you’re crazy.’ His hand was closing round her arm, holding her there, firmly but so gently. “There was never any brunette, just like there was never any blonde. She was just the wife of someone I was required to dance with at some stupid reception. If you’d read the report that went with the picture you’d have discovered that for yourself.’ He frowned. ‘Dear Carrie. Why can’t you trust me?’
Could that possibly be true? Carrie’s heart squeezed with hope. For he was right; she hadn’t even looked at the report.
Then she remembered. ‘But you told me yourself you were spending the night with her!’
‘A lie.’ The blue eyes frowned. ‘A stupid lie, Carrie. Partly because I was angry that you could accuse me of being unfaithful, and partly because I was still angry about you and Bud.’ His gaze raked her face. ‘But you still haven’t answered my question. Is it true what Caterina told me—that Bud’s only a friend?’
Carrie was catching her breath. Had the brunette really been a lie? Relief jolted through her. It seemed that she had.
She reached up and laid her hand against the lapel of his jacket, then let her fingers slide upwards to caress his face softly. ‘Bud is only a friend. There’s no other man in my life but you.’
Then she smiled a nervous smile. ‘You said something a moment ago. . .but I’m not sure if I heard right. I really wish you’d say it again.’
Leone bent to kiss her face. ‘You heard right. I love you. I should have told you a long time ago.’
‘And I love you.’
At last, she could tell him. And saying it was almost as sweet as hearing it. As he took hold of her and held her tightly and kissed her, with a look of such relief and joy on his features, she had never felt so completely happy in her life.
Then he drew back and frowned at her, though still holding her close to him. ‘So why did you lie to me? Why that story about Bud?’
Carrie explained as best she could, telling him quite candidly about her fears that they were too different, that there could never be any future for them. And she told him, too, about the article she had read in the magazine.
‘It said that girls like me were only playthings in your book. I was devastated when I read that. I couldn’t bear to be your plaything.’
‘My plaything?’ He frowned at her. ‘Let me tell you something. First of all, from start to finish, that article was a libellous invention. I refuse to sue, so some people take advantage. They’ll say anything as long as the cheque’s big enough.
‘Second, I never treat women as playthings—and certainly not the woman I’ve been looking for all my life. For that’s what you are, you know: He pulled a gently self-mocking face. ‘I confess it scared me a little at first that I’d actually found you. I wondered if I was ready for the ultimate commitment.’ Then he bent to kiss her face. ‘But I love you, Carrie, and I just couldn’t face a future without you.’
Carrie looked at him, heart throbbing. What was he saying? He’d said ‘the ultimate commitment’. Was he talking about marriage?
Scarcely daring to breathe, she said, ‘But what about your brother? I mean . . . after what happened with Caterina. . .’
Leone frowned for a moment as though he didn’t understand. Then he smiled and told her, ‘Don’t worry about my brother. Damiano won’t stand in our way. He has a very high opinion of you.’ Then he shook his head at her. ‘But even if he didn’t I can assure you it wouldn’t make a jot of difference.’ The blue eyes flashed. ‘Nothing in the world’s going to stop me from marrying you.’
Carrie’s heart had grown quite still. He had said it. She hadn’t dreamed it. But still she had to put to him, ‘How can you be so sure? He stopped your sister from marrying a commoner.’
‘He stopped my sister from marrying a scoundrel. The fact that the guy’s a commoner had nothing to do with it—though Caterina, for the moment, refuses to believe that.’
He stopped short and shook his head. ‘But why are we talking about my sister? It seems to me we have far more important things to talk about.’ He kissed Carrie’s face. ‘I was just saying, as I recall, that nothing in the world’s going to stop me from marrying you. . .’
A flash of humour touched his eyes. ‘But, before we go any further, I promised myself I was going to do this thing properly. . .’
And there, in the middle of Carrie’s living-room carpet, he got down on one knee and proposed to her formally in the manner of his aristocratic European ancestors.
‘I love you,’ he told her. And his expression was sober now, the blue eyes dark and intense as he looked at her. ‘Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’
Carrie felt quite overcome. She looked into his face, loving him with every inch and fibre of her being.
‘Oh, yes,’ she said, blinking back the tears that stung her eyes. ‘I should love nothing more in all the world than to be your wife.’
And, as he let out a whoop of joy, she flung her arms around his neck, then they were laughing and kissing and rolling to the ground in what was really a most unaristocratic manner.
‘Shall we make love?’ Leone murmured.
‘Oh, yes,’ Carrie answered.
So he picked her up, gave her a huge warm kiss, then, without further ado, carried her through to the bedroom.
Carrie and Leone were married two months later beneath the gentle gaze of their favourite angel in the private chapel at the Palazzo Verde.
Both of them had wanted the ceremony to be as private as possible. ‘Let’s start out,’ Leone had said, ‘as we mean to continue.’ Though, of course, they had done their bit at the time of their engagement, posing for the world’s press, arms around each other, to show off Carrie’s magnificent diamond ring—and, after the wedding ceremony was over, they would ride in an open carriage through the packed, cheering streets of Rino, the capital. But at the ceremony itself there were only family and close friends.
Carrie’s parents and sister, Lauren, had flown over from the States—along with a dozen or so of Carrie’s best friends, including, of course, Bud and Louise—and it was the proudest moment of Mrs Dunn’s life as she watched her elder daughter, escorted by her father and looking a vision in her dress of white satin, walk to the altar where her bridegroom stood waiting.
‘My daughter, a countess!’ she sobbed into her hankie. ‘I can’t believe it. It’s just like a fairy tale!’
‘A countess, and a happy one,’ Bud amended at her elbow. For he had never seen Carrie sparkle quite so brilliantly. The light in her eyes positively put to shame the glitter of the magnificent tiara on her head.
Everyone had noticed, not least Damiano and Sofia, now the parents of a healthy six-week-old son. And as Sofia watched her new sister-in-law she couldn’t help envying her her happiness and hoping that this marriage might work out better than her own. Her own, she sometimes thought, must be the unhappiest in the world.
Wrapped in her own thoughts, too, was Caterina, as she watched her friend Carrie exchange vows with her dear brother.
I wish them joy, she was thinking, though I’ll never follow in their footsteps. I’ll never marry now. Love and romance are not for me. And as she blinked back the bad memories she cast a black look at Damiano. She would never forgive him for what he had done.
Then she pushed these thoughts away and turned her attention back to the happy couple. This was Leone and Carrie’s day, and she smiled as she watched them. Surely there had never been two people who were so right for each other?
It was a simple ceremony, but a deeply moving one—particularly for the couple who stood at the altar, the tall man in the dark morning suit and the beautiful blonde girl in lace and satin, the two of them locked in a magical halo of love. And though Carrie felt at times as though she was floating in a dream she would remember every detail of this precious day for ever.
As Leone slipped the plain gold wedding band onto her finger she looked into his eyes, her love overflowing. Till death us do part, she thought, and felt her heart w
obble. They were one now. For ever. Their happiness was complete.
At last the ceremony was over and the organ was playing and they were walking back down the aisle together. Then they were stepping out of the ancient chapel into bright November sunshine and heading for the horse-drawn carriage that was waiting.
And as Carrie was about to climb in she almost forgot until Leone reminded her, ‘You’ve got to throw your bouquet.’ And, laughing, she tossed it into the crowd.
She didn’t notice that it was a shocked Caterina who had caught it as she took Leone’s hand and climbed up into the carriage, dizzy with joy, glowing with happiness, still half-stunned by the fact that she really was married now to the most wonderful, most exciting man in the whole world.
Then Leone was climbing in beside her and taking her hand and the carriage was setting off, carrying them away, with a clip-clip-clop against the ancient cobblestones, to begin the first chapter of a wonderful new life.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-6333-8
THE COLORADO COUNTESS
First North American Publication 1998.
Copyright © 1996 by Stephanie Howard.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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