Mistress for a Month

by Miranda Lee

  ‘About what?’

  ‘When I told you about my not being able to have a baby, you—er—seemed to jump to the conclusion that I’d had a hysterectomy.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘My…um…womb is still intact. It’s my fallopian tubes that had to be removed. It is theoretically possible for me to have a child through IVF, although of course there are no guarantees.’

  Rico didn’t know whether to kiss her again, or kill her. Why couldn’t she have trusted him with the truth? Why let him think she was totally barren?

  But way down deep, he already knew the answers to those questions.

  Roberto, again. Rico hoped he’d never meet up with that bastard, or he would be guilty of murder.

  Still, Renée revealing there was some hope of their having a child together confirmed what he already knew. Renée having his natural baby wasn’t his first priority in life any more. It would be wonderful. Yes. But it wasn’t the only thing. First and foremost was spending his life with this deeply wounded, annoyingly complex but still wonderful woman standing before him.

  ‘Please don’t be angry with me,’ she whispered, her eyes desperate. ‘I…I had to be sure that you really loved me for myself; like you had to be sure that I wasn’t a gold-digger. I thought that if after a month of no-strings sex you still wanted to marry me then you must truly love me, especially if you thought there was absolutely no chance of a baby. But there was one small hiccup I didn’t think of and which cropped up last Monday.’

  The penny dropped. ‘Your period,’ Rico said. ‘You got your period.’

  ‘Uh-huh. I didn’t want you asking me awkward questions so I did a flit. I can’t tell you how awful I’ve felt, lying to you all week. But I didn’t know what else to do. I…I had to be sure of your love. I’m sorry, Rico. Perhaps you shouldn’t marry me after all. Perhaps I’m far too screwed up to even think of being any man’s wife. Look how terribly I’ve treated you all these years. Yet all the while I was madly in love with you. I must be some kind of sick sadist. Or masochist. I’m not sure which!’

  Rico could not have been more stunned. Or flattered. ‘You’ve loved me all along? You never said so. In fact, I don’t think you’ve said you love me yet even once.’

  ‘See what I mean? I still have difficulty admitting it. Yet I fell in love with you that first day at the races. I thought you were the most handsome, most charming, most exciting man I’d ever met.’

  ‘So why were you so prickly to me? I thought you hated me on sight.’

  ‘You had two fateful marks against you. You were Italian, and you were engaged to the type of woman who always brings out the worst in me. I thought…how could he possibly be in love with her? And then you looked at me and I knew you weren’t. Because I knew that look. I thought…he doesn’t love her. He’s just marrying her to have babies. He’ll be unfaithful. In fact, he’ll be unfaithful with me if I let him.’

  Rico didn’t deny it, because maybe he would have been, if she’d given him an ounce of encouragement. He’d certainly have broken his engagement.

  ‘It was always a battle in my mind,’ she went on, ‘every time I saw you. God, but I wanted you so much. It was easier to hate you rather than love you. To mock and stir you, especially after you got divorced. Your being suddenly available was the most dreadful torment, Rico. I knew I could have you then, but I’d vowed never to get mixed up with another Roberto-type and you seemed awfully similar.’

  ‘I don’t see how,’ he refuted.

  ‘Think! In my eyes, you were an Italian who married a woman just to have a family, then divorced her once she refused. I couldn’t risk giving my heart to another Roberto. I asked you to marry me in that bet because I already knew you had the better hand—you never could bluff me at cards, darling—and I just wanted to see the words. It gave me a secret thrill. I almost wrote “I love you” on it as well, just to see those words. I never imagined you’d find out. Yet you did! That was awfully clever and very devious of you, Rico. But then, I can see you’re a devious man.’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ he denied. ‘I’m a very straightforward man. I love you and I want to marry you. And I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. You’re absolutely right, I didn’t love Jasmine, but I didn’t realise I didn’t love her at the time. When you’re young, and male, it’s difficult to know the difference between lust and love. She also did a damned good job of convincing me that she loved me. We’re all susceptible to being loved, Renée. You were with Jo Selinsky. It’s a seductive thing, being loved. It was easier to believe that I felt love for Jasmine and only lust for you, rather than the other way around, especially when you were so hostile.’

  ‘I was awful. I admit it.’

  He grinned. ‘No, you were great. I loved every awful, frustrating moment.’

  She looked appalled. ‘How could you?’

  ‘I guess I’ve always liked a challenge. And you were the ultimate challenge. Man, when I got that unbeatable poker hand and you agreed to that bet, I was on cloud nine.’

  ‘I was pretty excited myself. Because I knew what you were going to ask for. By the time we reached that honeymoon suite, I was in such a state. I knew you only had to touch me and I’d come. When I saw that statue, I kept thinking of how you would look without clothes on, and how you’d feel, deep inside me.’

  Rico sucked in sharply as his body reacted to her evocative words.

  ‘I couldn’t wait to see how you’d look without clothes on myself,’ he said, and reached out to start flicking open the buttons on her shirt. ‘It’s been four days since I’ve had the privilege and I think I need reminding.’

  She didn’t say a word till his fingers stopped on the last button. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked somewhat breathlessly. ‘Why are you stopping?’

  ‘Tell me you love me. I want to hear you say the words.’

  ‘That’s blackmail!’

  ‘Yep. So speak up, honey, or I’m going to leave any lovemaking till after tonight’s poker game. And trust me, I’ll do it. Making you suffer comes high on my list of pleasures.’

  She pulled a face at him. ‘I always knew you were a sick sadist as well. That’s why we clicked. OK…here goes. I…love…you.’

  ‘Again, please. And put a bit more feeling into it.’

  ‘I…love…you,’ she said, and fluttered her eyelashes up at him. ‘Good enough?’

  He smiled. ‘Better.’

  ‘Fine. Now get on with it, will you? We have to be at Ali’s suite by eight and it’s already after seven.’

  ‘Tch, tch, such impatience.’

  ‘Rico…’

  He laughed, and got on with it.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  SPRING had finally arrived, with Teresa’s gardens never looking better. The wisteria was in full bloom over the back pergola and her prized azaleas were having a wonderful season with masses of pink, red and white blooms.

  Australian friends had told Teresa not to plant azaleas in Sydney’s west. Too hot and dry. But she knew exactly where to plant them—underneath the native trees on the gentle slope which surrounded the large back terrace. She always kept them well fed and watered, and everyone who visited the Mandrettis in spring admired them profusely.

  ‘I’ve never seen azaleas like those, Teresa,’ Renée had said on seeing them. ‘I’ve never had any luck with azaleas myself. Even in pots.’

  It was the first Sunday in October, with the traditional family get-together having been swiftly converted into an engagement party. Teresa had only had a week to prepare since Rico had informed her of his news, and she’d worked her fingers to the bone to make sure that everything was perfect for him. The food. The wine. The setting. Nothing was too good for her Rico, and his lovely bride-to-be.

  The rest of the family had helped, of course, with the women promising to bring plates of freshly made salads and desserts today, and the men coming the day before to do the lawns and set up some trestles under the terrace. Frederico was still not all
owed to do heavy work.

  Over sixty guests were expected, most of them direct family. The happy couple had arrived first, as requested, with Enrico immediately taking his father off to discuss where he wanted the kennels and runs built for the greyhounds Enrico was determined to buy his father for Christmas. Frederico pretended to still be reluctant in this venture but Teresa knew he was secretly happy with the idea.

  Once the men were out of the way, Teresa had poured herself and Renée a glass of vino and they were sitting on the outdoor seating under the pergola, relaxing together.

  ‘People say I have the green fingers,’ Teresa remarked.

  ‘And they’d be right,’ Renée agreed warmly.

  Teresa smiled. ‘Speaking of fingers, let me see your ring again.’

  When Renée lifted her left hand and wiggled her fingers, the sunlight hit the central diamond, sending out starbursts of colour.

  ‘Magnifico!’ Teresa exclaimed.

  Renée laughed. ‘I know. It is magnifico, isn’t it? Just like my Rico,’ she added in a voice that betrayed more to his mother than she ever had to the man himself.

  Teresa finally understood why her son had chosen to marry a woman who might never give him a child of his own. She’d been very shocked when he’d first told her about Renée’s fertility problem. Shocked and worried. But also proud that her son could love so selflessly. Still, she’d always known that her bambino had more love in his little finger than most men did in their whole bodies. She’d been reassured when Enrico told her that they aimed to adopt a couple of children as well as try to have their own. Also, that they weren’t going to wait with bated breath for that to happen. Plans were already underway for them to fly to the Philippines and visit several orphanages. Teresa thought that was an excellent idea. Parents who adopted often then had bambinos of their own.

  ‘I…I hope you’re not too disappointed, Teresa,’ Renée added, sensing something in the other woman’s silence. ‘I know you would have liked a younger wife for your son. One who would pop out babies like clockwork.’

  Teresa reached over the narrow trestle table and patted Renée’s arm. ‘All I want is for my son to be happy. And you make him happy, Renée. No mother could ask for more.’

  Renée’s eyes flooded. ‘Thank you, Teresa. That makes me feel better. Oh, dear, I can hear a car coming up your driveway and I’ve just made my mascara run.’

  ‘Come…It won’t take you long and you will be looking your beautiful self again.’

  Which was true. By the time their first guests rang the front doorbell, Renée’s make-up was repaired and she was smiling again.

  Teresa thought her future daughter-in-law looked even more beautiful than ever, dressed in a feminine and flowing green dress that matched her eyes and showed off her dramatically pale skin and jet-black hair, worn up that day with soft, feathery bits around her face.

  But it wasn’t Renée’s outer beauty that quickly captivated the Mandretti family during the next few hours. It was her genuine warmth, her ease of conversation, plus her obvious love for their favourite son. They’d all lived through Enrico’s relationship with that awful Jasmine, and were so happy to see him with a woman of substance and style.

  Of course, Rico’s own beaming happiness was very catchy. Now that he’d found true love, his natural exuberance for life was overflowing, sweeping everyone along in its rush of sheer joy. Even his best friend, Charles, who could be a serious type of man, could be heard laughing and joking a lot.

  The lunch had been devoured and all the adults were sitting around, sipping some of Frederico’s excellent homemade wine and feeling very mellow indeed, when a group of the older children came running round from where they’d been playing soccer in the huge front yard. The older girls were inside, talking boys and make-up, and all the younger children had been put to bed for a nap.

  ‘There’s this huge truck coming up the driveway, Poppa!’ they told Frederico in chorus. Frederico gave his wife a questioning look but she just shrugged.

  ‘Everyone who was coming has arrived,’ Teresa told him.

  ‘Let’s go see,’ Frederico replied and they all traipsed around the side of the house to see whose truck it was.

  Rico suspected what was behind the mysterious arrival the moment he saw Ali’s royal insignia on the side of what was a large livestock-transporter. He gave Renée a squeeze and said, ‘I might be mistaken but I think you’re just about to get a new heart’s desire.’

  She glanced up at him. ‘A horse? From Ali?’

  ‘I presume so.’ Ali had declined to come to the party, as he declined all such invitations. He said the security measures he had to employ spoilt things for the other guests.

  The truck came to a halt not far from the expectant crowd and the fellow driving it jumped out, along with his sidekick in the passenger seat. Both men wore big hats and big smiles.

  ‘Got a horse here for a newly engaged couple named Enrico and Renée!’ the driver said, grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘That’s us,’ Renée said excitedly.

  ‘Nice to meet you, ma’am, sir,’ he said, tipping his hat at them. ‘Congratulations on your engagement. His Highness, Prince Ali of Dubar, has sent you both a little present, namely one not so little horse. Here’s his pedigree and papers.’

  Renée gasped when she saw the horse’s breeding. ‘Rico, look, he’s a two-year-old half-brother to Ebony Fire. The same dam but a different sire.’

  ‘That’s right, ma’am,’ the sidekick informed her. ‘And he’s a flyer. The boss was gonna keep him himself, he was so fast in the paddock. You are one lucky couple, I can tell you. He’s all broken in and been goin’ through his paces a treat up home. Just needs some racin’ polish. His stable name is Bobbie but his racin’ name is Streak of Lightning.’

  ‘Oh, I love that!’ Renée exclaimed. ‘Oh, I can’t wait to see him. Can I see him right now?’

  Rico loved seeing her so excited, and so happy.

  ‘No trouble, ma’am. We’ve been told to get him out and parade him for you for as long as you like, then take him on to Ward Jackman’s stables at Randwick.’

  The colt was dark grey with a black mane and tail, and highly spirited. Either that, or he was grateful to get out of prison for a while. He reared up on his hind legs a couple of times and danced around, showing off shamelessly for his crowd of admirers. Clearly, the sidekick was an experienced groom because he handled the horse expertly.

  ‘He will get a lighter grey as he gets older,’ the groom informed them.

  ‘I have to give Ali credit for his skill as a breeder,’ Rico said after the horse had finally been reloaded and was on the way to its new home. ‘That is one fabulous horse. And one fabulous gift. I must give him a call and tell him how thrilled we both are.’

  He did, straight away, just catching Ali before he left the hotel to fly home. Renée spoke to him as well, thanking him and promising not to beat him at poker for at least a month.

  Ali laughed. ‘I am too smart a man to fall for that little bluff, Renée. I will now approach next Friday night with even more caution than usual.’

  ‘I had no idea Ali could be so thoughtful, or generous,’ Renée remarked on their drive home later that evening. ‘He always comes over as rather cold.’

  ‘Ali’s not at all cold,’ Rico replied. ‘He’s just another one of the once-bitten, twice-shy brigade.’

  Renée shot him a sceptical look. ‘I can’t imagine the Ali I’ve seen eyeing up the ladies at the races ever being described as shy.’

  ‘Perhaps shy is not the right word. Wary would fit the scenario better. Wary of opening up his heart, and his emotions. Ali was badly hurt once.’

  ‘By a woman?’

  ‘By a woman, and a man, and his whole family, I would guess.’

  ‘You know a lot about him that I don’t know, don’t you?’

  ‘Not a lot. Only a little. And only recently.’

  ‘Are you going to tell me the full story?’
/>
  ‘Only if you promise never to tell another soul. Ali would not be happy for this to get around.’

  ‘I promise.’

  ‘I’ll tell you after we get home. After we get into bed.’

  Renée laughed. ‘You have a one-track mind, Rico Mandretti. And that track always leads to the one place. Bed.’

  ‘Actually, I have three tracks. Food, poker and sex. It’s just that lately sex has taken precedence over the other two, for which you only have yourself to blame, madam. If you weren’t so desirable, I wouldn’t spend so much time quenching that desire.’

  ‘I’m not really complaining,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Mmm. Yes, I noticed that.’

  ‘I love you, Rico Mandretti.’

  He looked over at her and grinned. ‘Well said, my darling. But that was only number seven. Remember, your quota for each day is ten.’

  Renée laughed. ‘When am I going to be let off that ridiculous quota?’

  ‘When you get the hang of expressing your feelings for me properly.’

  ‘I thought I did that every night.’

  ‘Not in words. I like to hear the words.’

  She laughed. ‘OK. I love you. I love you. I love you. How’s that?’

  ‘Mmm. Not bad. But I think perhaps actions speak louder than words, after all.’ And he put his foot down on the accelerator.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-7736-0

  MISTRESS FOR A MONTH

  First North American Publication 2003.

  Copyright © 2003 by Miranda Lee.

  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.