The Italian's Inherited Mistress

She was, however, too sleepy to agonise for long and, while her conscience warred against keeping any secret from Alissandru, she couldn’t help recalling the angst she had roused with her last announcement. Was she incredibly fertile? Was he? Would she manage to carry her baby to term this time around? Anxiety struck then and struck hard and she had to blank out her worries quite firmly before she could drift off to sleep, while telling herself that she would make decisions and worry about the consequences later.

The shrill noise of the doorbell woke her and, blinking sleepily, she scrambled up, stuffing her feet blindly back into the shoes she had kicked off while at the same time calling out to silence Puggle’s frantic barks. She padded hurriedly downstairs and swung open the door on Alissandru, and that fast her cheeks burned and she ran an uneasy hand through her mussed curls.

‘I have someone here who has something to say to you. It won’t take long,’ Alissandru murmured bracingly.

Isla spotted the car pulled up behind Alissandru’s and stiffened in dismay as she spotted Fantino’s weedy figure heading towards them. ‘What does he want?’ she hissed.

She didn’t have to wait long to find out. Fantino had come to offer heartfelt apologies and regret for the distress he had caused at her sister’s wedding and to insist that he would never do such a thing again. He made no excuses, offered no defence, merely concluding his awkward little speech with the assurance that he would be making a big effort to improve his behaviour. Isla studied the bruising and swelling on his thin face and swallowed hard, recognising that he had taken a beating and guessing by the granite-hard set of Alissandru’s jaw that he had been the one to administer it. Jungle justice, she thought ruefully, but if it stopped Fantino in his tracks the next time he saw an attractive woman and made him think twice, she had no quarrel with the punishment.

She accepted the apology and watched Fantino jump back into his sports car with a curled lip.

‘He will stay away from the estate while you’re here,’ Alissandru assured her.

‘Did you have to beat him up?’ Isla asked uncomfortably.

‘I had to get the truth out of him...and I did,’ Alissandru countered levelly, unable to explain even to his own satisfaction what had ignited the sheer rage that had gripped him once he’d got his hands on Fantino. The concept of anyone laying a single finger on Isla without her permission had incensed him. The awareness that she might not be his cousin’s only victim had made him even angrier and determined to keep a watch on Fantino to ensure that he kept his promises to reform.

‘I didn’t want any violence, and your mother must’ve been very upset by all this,’ she muttered ruefully.

‘A generation back, a man could’ve been killed for any action that could damage a woman’s reputation. Community disapproval controlled bad behaviour. My mother is only upset that you did not feel you could trust us with the story of what happened to you that day,’ Alissandru explained grittily. ‘Now, if you are in agreement, let us bury this matter.’

Isla nodded vigorously. ‘Yes.’

‘I have a fundraiser for a children’s hospice that I support to attend this evening,’ Alissandru told her. ‘Will you accompany me?’

‘If it’s black tie, I have nothing to wear.’

‘Grazia has already offered to provide you with a suitable dress,’ Alissandru cut in. ‘She’ll be present tonight and would like to see you again. She is probably planning to ask you at least a hundred nosy questions.’

Isla looked up into his lean, darkly handsome face and tried to face telling him what she knew she had to tell him and she lost colour and dropped her head. ‘Thank her for her offer. It’s a very generous gesture, but I’m afraid I’d prefer to spend a quiet evening here.’

‘You’ve had a distressing afternoon,’ Alissandru conceded reluctantly, studying her with his shrewd gaze, picking up on her pallor and the shadows of strain below her eyes, wishing he could give her thoughts a more positive turn, wishing that Fantino’s sleazy behaviour hadn’t cast a pall over their day, for there was no denying that it had with Isla looking so drawn and fragile.

‘A quiet evening and a good sleep will do me good,’ Isla declared with a forced and brittle smile.

‘How important is it that you sleep alone?’ Alissandru asked bluntly, a long forefinger tracing the ripe curve of her lower lip. ‘Because I don’t sleep so well without you...’

Her dark blue eyes flew wide, her heart thumping at the smouldering appraisal he was giving her. It sent wicked little tingles coasting through her, started up a hot, needy throb at her core. Because I don’t sleep so well without you... That was a statement that threw her heart wide open, filling her with dangerous warmth and an almost overpowering desire to throw herself into his arms. He was going out without her but he still wanted to spend the night with her.

Alissandru bent his dark head and kissed her, savouring the softness of her lips and the sweetness of her instant response, fierce arousal threatening his self-control and just as quickly unnerving him. You can go one night without her, he told himself irritably. You’re not an addict. Why was everything with Isla so blasted complicated? He thought of Paulu’s second will, which he had lodged with Marco, and suppressed a heavy sigh. He had felt foolish when Marco had erupted in approval of that discovery on the family’s behalf when he knew he had no intention of having the contents of that second will actioned. Should he already have explained that decision to the family lawyer? But admitting that he was in a relationship with Isla had struck him as too private a revelation to make to one of his employees. If further explanation was required in the future, he would deal with it then, he thought in exasperation.

‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ he told her abruptly, releasing her to stride back to his car.

Isla stood there a few seconds longer, wondering what had happened, wondering why he had changed his mind about joining her after the fundraiser. She wandered back indoors, feeling strangely unsettled by her recollection of the sudden detachment that had momentarily frozen Alissandru’s lean dark face, banishing his usual smile. Maybe he was getting tired of her, maybe he was only just beginning to realise that, she reasoned.

And how did that make her feel? As if the roof was about to fall in, she acknowledged guiltily, taken aback by the awful hollow sensation that filled her when she thought of Alissandru walking away from her. She had got attached, hadn’t she? Seriously attached in spite of all the signs that he was not in the market for any kind of commitment. And even worse, now she was pregnant and that fact was more important than her feelings or his.

Isla walked around the house, busying herself with tidying up while she pondered her dilemma. There was really no avoiding the obvious. Alissandru had always been honest with her and she owed him the same honesty. A couple of hours later, her nerves nibbling at her in painful bites, she showered and changed and drove up to the palazzo, trying not to ask herself how it would feel when she saw angry resentment and regret in Alissandru’s face when she told him she had once again conc

eived. As ever impervious to mood, Puggle danced at her heels, eager to see Constantia or Alissandru, both of whom could be depended on to feed him.

As she mounted the steps, a thickset older man emerged and hesitated. ‘You must be Tania’s sister, Isla,’ he guessed as he extended his hand. ‘I’m Marco Morelli, the Rossetti family lawyer.’

Isla tensed at the explanation. ‘I suppose you’ll be getting together some papers for me to sign,’ she remarked, thinking of the legalities of selling the house back to Alissandru. She had already nominally agreed to sell the house back to him but the sticking point was that she was only willing to accept market value while Alissandru seemed to think that it was somehow his duty to pay very generously for it.

The older man frowned and shook his head in grave dismissal. ‘No...there’s nothing. A mistake that none of us could know was a mistake is already being rectified. Now that the new will has been lodged, it is merely a question of sorting out the tangle Paulu left behind him. I am sorry you have had this experience.’

Isla had fallen very still. ‘New will?’ she queried breathlessly.

‘Alissandru said that he would explain it all to you.’ Marco Morelli checked his watch and sighed. ‘Unfortunately, I have another call to make and I can’t go into the complexities of a more recent will turning up and reversing the original right now, but if you have any questions, I would be happy to answer them for you at my office. Perhaps tomorrow...or the next day?’ he prompted helpfully.

‘So, there’s nothing for me to sign,’ Isla managed to gather, striving to act normally rather than betraying the reality that she had been dealt a body blow.

‘No, once you return the inheritance the matter is fully concluded,’ he assured her cheerfully. ‘I know Alissandru wishes to compensate you for this most regrettable confusion but, to be frank, he owes you nothing because he was no more aware of the second will’s existence than anyone else. I persuaded him that he had to have the will lodged legally with the courts if he wanted to avoid further complications.’