Lost in Love

mentally, and could see in her mind’s eye the circle of grease-covered bodies bent over the car listening with expert ears to the finely tuned sound.

When Guy had bought this private estate, some fifteen years ago now, he had done so with the intention of building his own racing track and workshops in the grounds. He had done all of this without managing to spoil the natural beauty of the surrounding valley, sparing no expense to achieve it, just as he would spare no expense to keep his precious collection in the very peak of its original condition.

He would, during their stay here, take each car out and put it through its paces, listen for faults, test its performance—but most of all enjoy himself—before railing at his mechanic if everything was not exactly as he expected it to be.

According to Roberto, the success of Guy’s transition from world-class Grand Prix driver to high-powered businessman was entirely due to his having an outlet for his natural restlessness in his collection of cars.

He was a man of many faces, many moods. Quick to temper, quick to humour, and quick to passion. But for all that she had seen him curse and swear, laugh and tease, burn up with desire and seem to die in release, she had never seen him be anything but lovingly respectful to his father.

Roberto glanced sharply at her. ‘You think I did not deserve my roasting?’ he quizzed.

‘No,’ she answered. ‘And it just isn’t like him to speak to you like that.’

‘But there you have just hit the nail unwittingly on its head, my dear,’ Roberto said gravely. ‘My son is not himself. And has not been for a long time. Four years, in fact.’

Marnie lowered her face, refusing to take him on with that one.

‘I am a very proud and loving father, Marnie,’ he went on coolly. ‘But do not think me blind to his faults, for I am not.’

‘Guy has no faults,’ she mocked.

Roberto smiled at her joke, but shook his head in a refusal to be diverted. ‘And I find myself wondering, you know, why, after all the pain and misery you have put each other through, you are now deciding to try again at a marriage which could not have been as good as it seemed the first time, for it to falter so totally at the first obstacle it came up against.’

But what an obstacle, Marnie thought, then glanced narrowly at Roberto. ‘We don’t do it for the sake of an old man, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ she said shrewdly.

He nodded slowly. ‘But maybe you do it for the sake of your brother?’

Her face stiffened, her body along with it. ‘Not for him, either,’ she said.

‘Then maybe,’ Roberto suggested silkily, ‘you do it for that sweet angel of a wife your brother brought here with him yesterday?’

‘You’ve seen Clare?’ Marnie asked eagerly. ‘How did she look? Did she look well? She’s pregnant, you know, and she shouldn’t be.’ Her face clouded, aching concern showing in her blue eyes. ‘She lost a baby a couple of months ago and the doctors warned her then that her body needed time to heal; I…’

‘She is well, Marnie—very well,’ Roberto reassured her gently. ‘She spent the whole afternoon here with me, while your brother and Guy’s team of mechanics moved their things into the lodge. She was happy, excited about the baby. Excited about the move to the country. Excited about the vacation her husband has taken her on for the next few weeks to get them over the—er—critical time.’

Vacation? Marnie’s eyes sharpened. What vacation? Jamie couldn’t afford to take a—

Guy. She sat back, not sure if she was angry or grateful to him for that piece of thoughtfulness. Then she realised this was yet another thing he had done of his own volition: showing thoughtfulness and caring where none had been requested.

She frowned, trying to work out why on the one hand he could cut her brother into little pieces with his tongue, then on the other do something as beautiful as this.

Because of you, a small voice said. He does it for you. Don’t you know he would do anything to ease your troubles? You were worried about Clare’s health, so he packed her off on a holiday so she could relax and be cosseted through the next vital month.

Then why am I sitting here, she challenged that voice, being blackmailed by him to do the last thing on this earth I want to do?

Is it? the silent voice asked.

She wriggled uncomfortably.

Roberto watched the changing expressions passing across her open face for a while, then made to get up. ‘Come,’ he said, using his ever-present stick to help him rise from the chair. ‘I want to show you something. And it is best viewed in good light.’ A hand wafted imperiously at her when she didn’t immediately respond. ‘Come, come!’ he commanded. ‘My son will not thank me for stealing his thunder on this, but I believe the moment is right and not worth wasting. So come.’

Marnie came reluctantly to her feet. ‘Roberto, do you think it worth risking Guy’s wrath a second time in one day?’ she posed dubiously.

‘Why, what are you afraid he will do to me?’ His dark eyes began to twinkle. ‘Beat me with my own walking stick?

‘No.’ She laughed, shaking her head ruefully. ‘But on your own head be it if he tears you off another strip with his tongue!’

He just tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and with a deft flick of his wrist set his walking stick in front of him and led them out through the French windows which opened on to a winding pathway that led through his many carefully pruned rose-beds.