Husband By Contract. HELEN BROOKSЧитать онлайн книгу.
every syllable. She had confided the bare facts of her abrupt arrival back in England to Jim, and when the telegram had arrived he had been dead set against her returning to Italy for the funeral.
‘I’m at the Vittoria villa, Jim.’ She paused, vitally aware of the big body opposite her which dominated the masculine room. ‘And I shan’t be returning as quickly as planned so I thought I’d better let you know. I shall be staying in Italy for a few weeks.’
‘Why?’ The word was harsh and immediate and so unlike Jim’s normal mode of speech that she blinked before replying.
‘I...It’s Lorenzo—you know, the little boy?’ she said carefully. ‘He’s very upset and he needs me. It’ll be for a while, Jim, so if you and the others think it would be better to find someone else to take my place—’
‘There is no question of that.’ He sounded very definite and again she blinked, wondering if it was indeed sedate, unemotional Jim at the other end of the phone or if an alien had taken his place while she had been away. ‘Your job will be kept open for you as long as it’s necessary,’ he added in a softer tone.
‘That’s very good of you.’ She wondered if she should ask him to confirm such a statement with the other doctors but decided against it; this new Jim was less approachable than the old one and she wasn’t sure how he would take such a request.
‘No, it isn’t,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s the least we can do. I... We miss you, Grace. The surgery isn’t the same without your fairy footsteps bobbing about.’
There was an urgency in his tone that threw her for a moment and her laugh was forced before she said lightly, ‘They aren’t very fairy-like at the moment; I’m exhausted.’
‘How are things?’ he asked immediately, and again that throb in the Scottish burr made her flush.
‘Everyone is holding up very well.’ There was no movement from Donato, not a whisper of sound, but she could almost taste the dark waves flowing from his hard frame. ‘I’d better go, Jim; this call must be costing a fortune. I just wanted to let you all know as soon as I could. You couldn’t ask Claire to go and see my landlady and explain everything, could you?’ she asked carefully. ‘I wouldn’t like her to think I’m not coming back.’
‘Don’t worry about that side of things; I’ll sort it out,’ Jim said quickly. ‘I’ll go and see her and arrange to let her have a cheque at the end of the month.’
‘Oh, there’s no need for that; I can send her a cheque from here—’ Grace began, but he interrupted her, his voice brisk.
‘I’ll see to it, Grace; I’d like to. You can settle up with me when you’re home.’ There was a faint emphasis on the last word and again she flushed; the note of possessiveness in his voice had never been there before and she was sure she wasn’t imagining it.
‘All right, thank you.’ She hesitated a moment and then said, ‘Goodbye, then.’
‘Goodbye, Grace. Take care, won’t you? And...and don’t stand any nonsense,’ he said thickly and surprisingly.
‘I... No. Right, then, I’d better go...’ She was flustered now and it showed, and there was a moment of heavy brittle silence when she replaced the receiver before she could nerve herself to raise her eyes to Donato. The black gaze was waiting for her as she had known it would be.
‘Your...friend did not want you to come here?’ The words were soft and silky and deadly.
‘I beg your pardon?’ She had heard him perfectly well but needed time to collect her thoughts after the amazing phone call, during which she had seen a side to Jim she had never seen before.
‘He thought you should stay tucked away in safe little England with the ram and the wind and the number ten bus?’ Donato asked cuttingly, his voice vitriolic and his face set in pure unyielding granite.
He was jealous. The knowledge brought her eyes wide open for a split second before a surge of anger tightened her lips and raised her small chin. He didn’t want her, he had made that patently clear by his silence over the last twelve months, but he didn’t want anyone else to have her either! The Vittoria ‘ownership’ trait in full sail. But to be jealous of Jim—Jim of all people.
And then she remembered the timbre of Jim’s voice during the call and found herself flushing with shock. But she had never indicated to Jim, by word or deed, that there was anything more between them than friendship—never; the mere thought of more made her cringe. Jim was like the big brother she’d never had, a steady, dependable rock; if she’d thought for a second he wanted more...
Donato’s hard gaze slashed over her hot face and his voice was even softer when he said, ‘So? You have not answered my question.’ He folded his arms across his broad chest as he spoke.
‘Because it’s irrelevant,’ she said tightly, with bitter resentment.
‘I think not.’ He smiled, but it was a mere twisting of his lips, his eyes icy. ‘I asked you if he advised you not to come. That is a simple enough question, is it not?’
‘It’s nothing to do with anyone else what I do or don’t do,’ she said fiercely. ‘I make up my own mind; I won’t have it made up for me. Is that a simple enough answer?’
‘It will do.’ He rose so suddenly that she flinched before she could control the gesture. ‘Come, I will take you to your room,’ he said arrogantly. ‘You would like your lunch there?’ he continued as he walked to the door. ‘In view of your...exhaustion?’
The brief pause before the last word was meant to intimidate but she ignored the allusion to her conversation with Jim and smiled coolly, willing herself to sound distant and aloof as she said, ‘Thank you, that would be nice.’
Nice? It would be heaven, she thought weakly, preceding Donato out of the room on legs that were distinctly shaky. An hour or two to compose herself before she faced him again seemed like an oasis in the desert right at this moment, and she still had the hurdle of Bianca to overcome as well as the numerous relatives who would be sure to attend the funeral.
When she had first come to Casa Pontina five years ago as a shy and nervous eighteen-year-old she had thought the beautiful old house stretched for miles, and something of that feeling returned now as they walked along the high, elegant hall to the wide, gracious staircase that curved to the upper floor.
Besides the servants’ ample quarters, which were situated beyond the kitchens on the ground floor, there were six massive bedrooms in all, complete with en suite bathrooms, but when Donato had asked her to marry him two months after their first meeting he had ordered the immediate construction of a new wing to the building. The extension comprised a huge fitted kitchen, high-ceilinged dining room and two reception rooms, and four large bedrooms with bathrooms en suite upstairs.
There was no doubt the resulting addition was both aesthetically pleasing and unashamedly luxurious, but it was the fact that it was exclusively theirs that Donato had revelled in, although she had felt apprehensive and worried that Liliana in particular would feel rebuffed by Donato’s move from the main house.
She had been at Casa Pontina one Sunday afternoon just a few weeks before the wedding day when furnishings for her new home were being discussed, and something in her face must have told Romano, who was sitting opposite her at the dining table, how she was feeling.
‘Grace?’ He had sought her out after tea, which was unusual, taking her to one side and speaking quietly as he had looked down at her from his considerable height. ‘You feel uncomfortable about your new home, sì?’
‘Oh, I love it, I do love it,’ she said hastily, ‘and I can’t wait to live there.’ She blushed furiously at this point but he pretended not to notice. ‘It’s just that I don’t want Liliana to think we don’t want to be with her. It’s not that, really.’
‘You have told Donato this?’ Romano asked gravely.
‘Yes,