The Italian's Summer Seduction. Karen Van Der ZeeЧитать онлайн книгу.
his voice hoarse as he murmured what Milly, hovering uncertainly in the doorway, could only suppose to be reassurances.
Then he turned to the short stout man who was packing a stethoscope into a square black bag and fired questions at him in Italian.
Feeling out of place, still in turmoil over what had taken place between her and Cesare this morning, Milly was about to turn and go to her own room when Filomena registered her presence in the doorway.
‘My dear—come, sit with me!’ And in the same breath, ‘Cesare! English only as usual—to please me.’
Going to Filomena, Milly’s legs felt unsteady and almost gave way beneath her when she saw Cesare swing round, dark colour slashing along his angular cheekbones as his glittering eyes bored into her quaking body.
Once again he had forgotten all about her and definitely didn’t like being reminded that she was still on the same planet, she decided miserably, knowing that she would never be the centre of his thoughts and wishing she could be.
Trying to ignore that piece of insanity as Cesare saw the doctor out, Milly sank into the pretty pale lemon upholstered chair at the bedside and smiled with sympathy, ‘Poor you—how do you feel? A bit battered?’
The old lady was pale but her eyes were smiling as she answered, ‘Only when I try to move! I was careless and now I pay the price.’
‘How did it happen?’ Milly stroked the frail hand that lay on the white coverlet, trying to ignore the tingling sensation at the nape of her neck which told her that Cesare had returned and his black eyes were boring into the back of her head.
‘Amalia and I were walking in the garden and I was so amused by her wicked gossip that I was not paying attention and missed my footing on the steps leading down to the arbour.’
‘Where is the Contessa now?’ Cesare had stationed himself on the opposite side of the bed. Milly was determined not to look at him.
‘She left when I was returned on a stretcher. Such a fuss! She was fearful that she would be in the way.’
‘I should not have left you here with her!’ Cesare pronounced on a grim note of castigation. ‘If you are not even to be trusted to look where you are going!’
‘Grandson, you speak as if I am a child!’
Filomena was obviously growing distressed. Milly rose to her defence. Disregarding her intention not to look at him she glared across the bed, her green eyes glinting defiantly. ‘Your grandmother does not need to be grumbled at. If you can’t be gentle then I suggest you go find someone stronger to snipe at!’ She caught his look of stunned surprise and didn’t care.
From what she already knew of him throwing his weight around was second nature. He had probably not been spoken to in such a way during the whole of his over-privileged life. In her opinion a reprimand was long overdue!
Filomena reached for her hand and gave it a warm squeeze and Cesare, on his dignity, announced, ‘I apologise, Nonna. I have been anxious. Now I will go and arrange round the clock nursing care.’
He turned, his shoulders rigid, but was held back by his grandmother saying, ‘I forbid it. I will not have strangers fussing around me and doing objectionable things to me! I am not ill. I simply need to rest until I am mended. Jilly and Rosa will tend me between them.’
He turned back then. Slowly. His dark eyes sought Milly’s. ‘You are capable?’
Her chin came up. She returned the pressure of the old lady’s fingers. ‘Perfectly.’ Her dark green gaze steady, she held her breath. Would he back down or would he, after her insubordination, insist on hiring nursing staff?
They weren’t to know it but the real Jilly would run a mile rather than put a foot one inch inside a sickroom. She had no patience with what she perceived as weakness in anyone.
He was watching her through hooded eyes, as if doubting her capability, and was about to offer up some argument that would allow him to get his own way. It was time for her to put her foot down again.
‘Please ask Rosa to fix a lunch tray for your grand-mother. Something light.’ She turned to the old lady. ‘A little soup, perhaps?’ She received her amused nod and added firmly, ‘And then she must rest.’
Did his savagely handsome mouth quirk? Milly wasn’t sure and was not about to let herself think about it, not while she was desperate to stop herself from having any thoughts about him at all, especially after what he had made her feel this morning. How he had made her behave!
‘You handle him well,’ Filomena remarked as soon as the door had closed behind him. ‘He has the habit of authority. Though well deserved, I am the first to admit. He is always right.’
She sounded tired and Milly wondered if she was brooding over his comment that she was not to be trusted to look where she was going. In her weakened state his snapped comment would have been upsetting.
‘He adores you,’ Milly was quick to console. ‘He was only grumpy with you because you’d given him such a fright. It’s a natural reaction.’
Had that first hot, savage kiss been born out of anger at the danger she’d unknowingly put herself in? Had it been a question of kiss her or shake her until her teeth fell out? Probably. And, as for what had happened next, well, he believed she was her sister, his ex-lover, and the progression had also been completely natural, that first punishing kiss rekindling old flames.
Nothing to do with her, Milly. Nothing personal.
Thankfully, Rosa appeared with a tray, taking her mind off such dejecting, demoralising thoughts. Settling it on the old lady’s knees, murmuring in her own language, the housekeeper finally addressed Milly. ‘Would you also like tray? Keep the Signora company?’
Breaking the soft bread roll that accompanied the broth and, buttering it, earning herself a smile of gratitude from her charge, Milly seized the offer. ‘Thank you, Rosa. I think I’ll take all my meals with the Signora, if it’s no trouble.’ That way she could avoid eating with Cesare. The less she could manage to see of him the better.
‘Di niente!’ The housekeeper beamed. ‘Much good plan!’
In the event Milly saw hardly anything of Cesare except when he visited his grandmother at around ten each morning and again at ten in the evenings, or whenever the doctor appeared to check up on his patient. And on every occasion Milly made her excuses and left the room, only returning when she was sure the coast was clear. For the rest of the time Cesare was closeted in his first floor office, commanding his empire or occasionally visiting headquarters in Florence.
She wasn’t being cowardly in avoiding him as much as possible, she assured herself. Just being sensible. She was in grave danger of believing herself in love with him. It was bad enough having him haunt her dreams at night—dreams so erotic she woke with a feeling of deep shame—without having to be in his company during waking hours.
It had been four weeks since Filomena’s accident and the old lady was making great strides and Cesare had been away on business—Hong Kong and somewhere in the Far East, according to the patient—for the past ten days, apparently comfortable about leaving her in charge which, she supposed, was progress!
On the whole Milly was much easier than she’d been when she’d first arrived. Her duties were satisfying. She and Filomena were growing fonder of each other as each day passed and life here at the villa had settled into a pleasant routine.
But.
Her deception was really bugging her now. Deceiving a kind, trusting old lady was despicable—there was no other word for it and she was no nearer tracing her sister than she had been back in Ashton Lacey. And deceiving Cesare was every bit as distasteful.
She was going to have to come clean and take the flak, she decided with a sickening lurch of her stomach. Let Cesare with his wealth and clout find her sister and then they could finally get the misunderstanding cleared up and she