The Tuscan Tycoon’s Wife

by Lucy Gordon

  He frowned. ‘If you really believe that, heaven help you!’

  ‘Leo, why are we quarrelling? It’s a wonderful day. We’re going to have a great time, and I’m going to win. I can’t lose.’

  He regarded her with his head on one side. ‘Why can’t you lose?’

  ‘Because I got my miracle. You know when we met on the highway?’

  ‘Met isn’t quite the word I’d have used, but go on.’

  ‘Before that I’d been with Ben, he’s an old friend and he was fixing my van. He said I needed a miracle or a millionaire, but I said forget millionaires. They’re not good for anything.’

  ‘So you settled for a miracle?’ Leo asked, feeling the beginnings of a smile somewhere inside him.

  ‘Right. I said I just knew my miracle was on its way to me.’

  The smile grew bigger. ‘And it was?’

  ‘You know it was. All the time Barton was on the highway, and we were fated to meet.’

  The smile faded. ‘Barton?’

  ‘Well, wasn’t it a miracle that he turned out to be a good man with a conscience, who didn’t duck his obligations, as a lot of them would have?’

  ‘But a millionaire, don’t forget,’ Leo quibbled.

  ‘Ah, well, there must be one or two good ones. The point is, he was nice about it, which just proves what a decent man he is.’

  ‘Right,’ Leo said in a hollow voice.

  ‘So I got my miracle. And now I’m going to win.’

  ‘So am I. All right, stop laughing.’ Selena had doubled up. ‘I can do eight seconds on Old Jim, you saw me yesterday.’

  ‘Sure, and I’ve also seen him accepting tidbits from your hand. Old Jim is a pussy cat. You won’t be riding him in the ring.’ She got out of range and added wickedly, ‘You won’t be riding anything for very long.’

  ‘Now there’s a thing. I thought we were friends, and you hurt my feelings like that.’

  At once she came back into range, putting her hands on either side of his head, full of contrition.

  ‘Leo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you after you’ve been good to me. It was just a joke-’

  ‘Hell, I knew that.’

  ‘Are you sure? I can be a bitch sometimes. I don’t mean to be, but that doesn’t stop me.’

  Leo, who knew a thing or two about doing things he hadn’t meant to do ten seconds earlier, nodded in perfect understanding.

  ‘Say you’re not really hurt,’ she pleaded. ‘You’re my best friend and if you get mad at me, I’d really hate it.’

  Leo let his arms slip around her waist. His feelings weren’t hurt at all, but he managed to regard her sadly, while silencing his conscience. He couldn’t be blamed for making the most of this, could he?

  ‘I’m not mad,’ he said bravely.

  ‘You’re not hurt either, are you?’ she demanded, reading him without trouble. But she didn’t move her hands, except to slide them behind his neck. Nor did she resist when he drew her closer.

  ‘Stricken to the heart, I promise,’ he said.

  She didn’t answer, but stood there gazing into his face, while mischief danced over her face, her eyes, her smiling lips.

  ‘Selena,’ he said unsteadily, ‘you are putting me under a lot of strain here.’

  ‘You think I ought to do something about that?’

  ‘Yes, I really do.’

  She tilted her head in a way that made his heart do somersaults.

  ‘Well, I got tired of waiting for you to do something about it,’ she said as she laid her lips on his.

  They were just as he’d imagined them, sweet and enticing, yet with a hint of something underneath that wasn’t sweet at all: spicy, challenging, hot as a pepper. Not an ingénue, but a woman of determination, ready to take him on.

  Selena’s head was whirling. She hadn’t meant to do this, but there was something she needed to know, and suddenly her impatience had become too much to bear. Laying her mouth against his was an act of exploration and defiance in equal measure.

  She knew at once that she would have done better to wait. No woman, with a busy day ahead, could afford this kind of distraction. And she had only herself to blame because she’d always known that this man would take all of a woman’s attention. Some pleasures weren’t to be skimped.

  He seemed to feel the same because he slid his arms about her with a gentleness that didn’t disguise their power. She wanted to know all about that power. She could feel it in his lips, testing hers cautiously to divine her true meaning, then seeming to think he understood and coming on strongly in a way that excited her.

  She mustn’t do this, she thought dizzily. Her timing was dreadful.

  ‘Leo-’

  ‘Yes-’

  From outside came Barton’s bellow. ‘Anyone in there? We’re ready to go.’

  Leo released her, groaning. ‘I like Barton, but-’

  Selena came back to earth and the realisation that she’d nearly thrown everything away for this man. With a great effort she pulled herself together, saying urgently, ‘No, he’s right. We have to stop this.’

  ‘We do?’

  ‘It-it wastes vital energy.’ She could feel her vital energy being sapped just by being this close to him.

  ‘I didn’t think it was a waste.’

  ‘There’ll be time later. For now we’ve got to psych ourselves up for the big day. Shoulders back, head up. Believe in yourself.’

  ‘I find it easier to believe in you. You’re going to win. You’ve got Jeepers down to fourteen seconds, which I never thought you’d do.’

  She danced with excitement. ‘I knew he could do it, he is such a fantastic horse, so fast and strong-’

  ‘Careful! You said that in front of Elliot! You could give him a complex.’

  ‘Oh-you!’

  She thumped him, he put his arm about her shoulders and they went out, laughing, together.

  CHAPTER SIX

  R EACHING the rodeo site was like entering a village. There was the arena where the events took place, the area where the horses were delivered and kept until ready, and the shopping mall where Delia and dozens of others set out their stalls.

  Leo had driven to the arena with Selena and together they delivered Jeepers to his stall. When he was settled they headed for Delia’s stall and Leo promptly embarked on another spending spree.

  ‘Who are they for?’ Selena asked as he paid for a pair of extremely glamorous and impractical spurs.

  ‘My cousin Marco.’ Leo grinned. ‘Never sat on a horse in his life. They’ll really annoy him.’

  ‘You’re wicked in your own way, y’know that?’

  ‘Proud of it. Now this-’ he held up a figure of a cowboy on horseback made of painted stone. It was exquisite, full of life. ‘This is for my brother Guido,’ he said. ‘He sells souvenirs in Venice. This’ll show him how it’s done.’

  ‘What kind of souvenirs?’

  ‘Venetian masks mostly. And gondola lamps. They go on top of television sets. Some of them play “O sole mio” when you switch them on.’

  ‘You’re kidding me!’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t be hard on a man trying to earn a living.’

  ‘He-certainly-does very well out of souvenirs,’ Leo said cautiously. ‘Perhaps it’s time we were going. They’ll be starting soon.’

  Leo had arranged to do his bull riding on the first day, in order to ‘get the disaster over fast,’ Selena had cheekily observed.

  As he’d expected, there was a great deal of difference between Old Jim and the huge, furious animal he encountered now. Nothing in the previous few days with the machine had prepared him for it. It felt as though the bull had personally decided to smash him to fragments as a punishment for his impertinence in even trying.

  And he must try to endure this for eight seconds, he thought fuzzily as his brain was bounced around in his skull.

  But it was a considerate bull.

  It had him off him in three.


  He landed hard but he survived. By that time he was getting good at falling off, having had so much practise.

  As he limped out of the ring he heard the kindly applause of the crowd, a tribute to his guts at doing something he was so hopelessly bad at, and saw the Hanworths clapping for him with the warmth of friends. All except Paulie whose sneer of pleasure was unmistakable.

  But Selena wasn’t sneering. Her eyes were bright with pleasure that he’d made the attempt, and her smile was a promise and a reminder. Leo grinned back at her, happy and content. Paulie could go stuff himself up a drainpipe!

  Behind her smile Selena felt wrung out. When Leo had gone flying over the bull’s head she’d ground her nails into her palm until he picked himself up. He hadn’t broken his neck. He was alive. The world could start again.

  She chided herself for making a fuss about nothing. How many men had she seen thrown? But none of them had been Leo.

  She slipped away to get ready. Jeepers was there, calmly waiting for her. They’d done well together in the practise ring, but this was different. This was opening night. She adjusted her stetson, making sure it was firmly fixed on. Losing a hat could cost valuable points. Not as many as knocking over a barrel, but enough to do damage.

  There were five riders going before her, and they all did well.

  ‘All right,’ she told Jeepers. ‘The trick is not to let them scare you. You’re-we’re as good as they are. C’mon boy! Let’s show ’em.’

  As the bell rang she went flying over the starting line heading for the first barrel inside the triangle, a sharp turn, but not too sharp, allowing Jeepers space to move. They were around, then on to the next, neat turn, on to the last, then over the finishing line to cheers as the clock showed her in the lead.

  Leo was waiting for her just out of the ring and together they watched the next rider.

  ‘She’s not a patch on you,’ he said loyally. ‘None of them are.’

  ‘The next one’s good though. Jan Dennem. I’ve raced against her a lot and she’s always been just ahead of me.’

  ‘This time you’ll beat her,’ he said confidently.

  They held their breaths while fourteen interminable seconds ticked away and Jan swept across the line one-tenth of a second outside Selena’s time.

  ‘Yeeee-eeess!’ they roared from the sanctuary of each other’s arms.

  Next competitor. Very fast. A real threat. Ahead of Selena by half a second as she approached the final barrel, but then-

  A roar went up from the crowd as the barrel was knocked over.

  The next two were slower. No question. Selena was still ahead.

  ‘One more,’ she said. ‘I can’t bear it. Leo?’

  When he didn’t answer she looked and found him standing with the fingers of both hands crossed, his eyes closed, his lips moving.

  ‘Just praying,’ he said when he’d opened his eyes. ‘You never know.’

  She gave a shaky laugh. ‘Does God follow the rodeo?’

  ‘Never misses.’

  There was a cheer as the last competitor came flying out into the ring.

  ‘I can’t look,’ Selena said, and buried her face against Leo’s chest. At once he put his arms about her. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘First barrel, she’s fast but you’re all right, second barrel-now the third-’

  The crowd’s cheers became deafening. Leo groaned as he tightened his arms and rested his head on hers.

  ‘Oh, no!’ she cried. ‘No, no, no!’

  ‘By a tenth of a second,’ Leo said. ‘I’m sorry carissima.’

  She raised her head. ‘What did you call me?’

  ‘Carissima. It’s Italian.’

  ‘Yes, but what does it mean?’

  ‘Well-’

  But while he wondered whether to risk telling her that the word meant ‘Darling’ they heard a bellow from Barton, congratulating and commiserating with her both together.

  The moment passed, and Leo was left reflecting that he who hesitated was lost. Or if not actually lost, then forced to wait for another chance.

  It was a cheerful party that drove home that night. Delia had done excellent business, Selena had picked up some prize money for coming second, and Leo had stayed on the bull for a whole three seconds. That was cause for rejoicing, so they did, far into the night.

  Despite her defeat Selena was happy. The money for second had been better than usual. Leo found her sitting on the porch, contemplating it blissfully.

  ‘I’m rich, I’m rich!’

  ‘A hundred dollars is rich?’ he asked quizzically.

  ‘It’s a king’s ransom. Well, OK, maybe a very minor king. Who wants to ransom a king anyway? Do away with the lot!’

  She was drunk with her little bit of success, laughing as she talked, going wildly, joyfully over the top.

  ‘So much for royalty,’ Leo observed. ‘Obviously you don’t believe in them.’

  ‘Who needs ’em? Or guys with handles.’

  ‘You mean titles?’ he asked, sensing the conversation taking a dangerous turn. ‘Down with the wicked aristocrats? Ouch!’ He rubbed his shoulder.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked quickly. ‘You got a neck pain, shoulder pain?’

  ‘More of a whole body pain,’ he said ruefully. ‘But perhaps the neck more than the rest.’

  ‘Here, let me have a go,’ she said, getting behind him and rubbing his neck. ‘This is no good. Your collar’s in the way. Take your shirt off.’

  She helped him off with it, then got to work on his neck, his shoulders, his spine, with deft, skilful fingers.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said gratefully. ‘Hey, you’re good at this.’

  ‘I do it a lot.’

  ‘You do this for all the guys? Aren’t there medical people whose job it is?’

  ‘Sure, but if you can’t afford them you do it for each other.’

  He considered this, not liking the implications. But her fingers were spreading welcome warmth and ease, and he settled for counting his blessings.

  ‘You’ve got them in Italy, haven’t you?’ she asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Aristocrats. Careful, don’t jump like that or I might hurt you.’

  ‘Did I? Didn’t mean to.’ The word aristocrats had caught him by surprise.

  ‘Italy is a republic-but we’ve still got one or two of them,’ he said cautiously.

  ‘Ever actually met them, I mean talked to them, face to face?’

  ‘They’re not a species of reptile, Selena.’

  ‘That’s just what they are. They should be in a cage in a zoo.’

  ‘But you know nothing about them.’

  ‘Well, do you?’

  ‘I know that some of them aren’t so bad.’

  ‘Why are you defending them? You should be on my side-down the aristos, up the workers.’

  ‘So you’d like to send them all to the guillotine?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I’d make them get their hands dirty in the fields, with the workers, like us.’

  ‘You don’t know I’m a worker,’ he said. ‘Who knows what I do when I’m back in Italy?’

  She left what she was doing and took one of his hands in hers. It was large and roughened.

  ‘Of course I know,’ she said. ‘This is a worker’s hand. It’s been battered and hurt a few times. It’s got scars.’

  It was all true, but the fields were his own and they brought him a fortune larger than Barton’s. His innocent deception lay heavy on him, and suddenly he couldn’t bear it.

  ‘Selena-’

  She didn’t seem to hear him. She was turning his hand over, holding it gently. Then she looked up and her gaze shocked him with its innocent candour. There was a glow in her eyes that seemed to dazzle him, and he looked quickly away.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked quietly, laying down his hand.

  ‘Nothing, I-’ He gave her a bright, forced smile, and spoke hurriedly. ‘I’m just aching all over. Tomorro
w I’ll see a bone-setter. Well, now, I reckon it’s time to turn in. You too. You’ve had a long, hard day.’

  ‘Yes, I have,’ she murmured bleakly. ‘Very hard.’

  The last night of the rodeo was to be marked by one of the barbecues that Barton gave at the drop of a hat. There was no hospitality like that to be found at the Four-Ten, and as they drove back they were followed by a procession of vehicles.

  Leo knew a curious sense of dissatisfaction. He would be leaving next day, but he wasn’t ready for that. Something had started here but not finished, and he couldn’t make things happen because he didn’t know enough about his own feelings.

  Selena tugged at his heart as no other woman had ever done, but there were chasms between them, chasms of lifestyle, country, language. They didn’t even believe in the same kind of future. Only the most overwhelming love could overcome such problems. And how could he hope for such love from a woman who seemed not to believe in it?

  The thought of saying goodbye hurt badly. He’d hoped she minded as much, but she made it impossible to tell. And perhaps that was his answer.

  They’d seen little of each other since the night she’d rubbed his back and he’d nearly been overwhelmed by his longing for her, and his conscience-stricken awareness that he was treading a fine line.

  The next day he’d been to a chiropractor, who pulled and pushed him, told him not to be such a darned fool another time, and left him a hundred dollars poorer. He’d still ached afterward, although whether it was from the fall or the treatment he couldn’t say, but he felt a good deal better now.

  He dressed quickly for the evening. From down below came the sounds of music and laughter and he looked out on the pleasant scene. Sweet-smelling smoke came from the barbecue, lights were strung between the trees and the music seemed to beckon him.

  Selena was already there. He could see her in the centre of a small crowd, and guessed she’d done herself some good with her fizzing performances. Her future would be brighter now, and the help he’d given her would bear fruit, even if she didn’t know it; even if she forgot about him completely and never gave him another thought for the rest of her days.

  On that gloomy reflection he went down to join the party.

  There was plenty to distract him, great food, fine whisky, smiling ladies. But suddenly his appetite had gone and he didn’t want to drink. He followed her jealously with his eyes, dancing when he had to, but always trying to keep her in view.