The Italian's Wife

dark drawl, his accent very thick.

'I do!' Holly protested feverishly. 'Maybe I didn't before but I do now.

I thought sex was awful until tonight...what did I do wrong?'

Above her, Rio closed his eyes, his expression pained, dark colour

scoring his fabulous cheekbones. He threw himself back against the

tumbled pillows with a very male groan. 'You didn't do anything wrong. I

did it all. The condom broke...'

As those three words sank in Holly stilled, her face tightening in

shock. As she processed that admission and registered the potential

consequences her complexion paled to the colour of milk.

Springing off the bed with lithe ease, Rio strode in the direction of

the bathroom. 'Come on,' he urged with wry mockery. 'Let's drown our

sorrows in the shower!'

'In a minute...' As he vanished from her view she almost fell off the

bed in her haste to vacate it. Struggling back into her nightie, she

fled to her own room, driven by the kind of panic and shame that wanted

no witnesses.

77

Emerging from a restive sleep, conscious that she had still been awake

at dawn, Holly sat up in bed slowly. With every movement, a telling

series of aches in certain private places reminded her of her abandoned

behaviour with Rio the night before and her shadowed eyes filled with

anguished regret.

Last night she had locked her bedroom door. Rio had followed her and,

quiet though he had kept his demands that she open the door, she had

sensed his angry impatience even through the solid thickness of wood

separating them. When, minutes later, the bedside phone had rung she had

rushed to unplug it from the socket.

She was so ashamed of how stupid and reckless she had been. It was her

fault that the whole situation had developed in the first place. She

fully believed that it had been her obvious attraction to Rio which had

first incited his interest, was convinced that without that sexual spur

and provocation it would not even have occurred to Rio to touch her. Her

feelings, her weakness, her reactions had drawn him.

But at least Rio had thought of precautions. Such a sensible

consideration had not crossed her mind once and he was hardly to be

blamed for the reality that misfortune had struck. Misfortune was her

middle name, Holly reflected, a shuddering sob hurtling up from her

constricted lungs. Hadn't she learnt anything from Timothy's birth? Was

she still irresponsible and naive and foolish?

What on earth had got into her? Another sob quivered through her slender

frame. She wiped at her eyes but the tears kept coming. How could she

ever face Rio again? He had been so kind to her and she had had a

magical time with him earlier in the day. Even last night, when she

assumed other less well-bred males would have been cursing furiously

over such an accident, Rio had maintained his cool courtesy. In fact he

had proved himself a guy worthy of being loved.

But she had behaved like a slut, she told herself wretchedly; she

deserved everything she had coming to her, but no baby deserved an

inadequate mother. For the first time she glanced at the clock by the

bed and her eyes flew wide in horror because it was already after ten

and Timmie always woke up around seven!

Holly leapt out of the bed and unlocked the door. Pausing for an

instant, she then stopped and grabbed up the luxurious fake-fur she had

worn to the restaurant and dug her arms into the sleeves before hurtling

into the room next door to check on her child. In an almost all-male

household she needed to be careful to cover up and perhaps, had she been

more sensible the night before, nothing would have happened between her

and Rio.

In Timmie's room the nanny, Sarah, looked up with a smile. She was in

the midst of dressing Timmie. Holly was startled, for she had assumed

that the nanny had only been brought in to look after her son for just

the one day.

'Good morning, Miss Sansom. Aren't these clothes beautiful?' Sarah said

chattily as if there was nothing odd about Holly choosing to wear a

fake-fur coat over her nightie. She held up a tiny navy reefer jacket

embroidered with a Scottie dog motif and a pair of miniature checked

trousers for Holly's inspection. 'Mr Lombardi had a whole selection of

outfits for Timothy delivered this morning.'

The 'Timothy' tag had spread, Holly noted in a daze. Rio had had

clothing purchased for her son? Was there no

78

end to his generosity? Or her own indebtedness? Didn't he understand how

hard it was to continually receive gifts when she was in no position to

reciprocate? Although she was longing to hold her baby in her arms, she

backed to the door again. 'I'll just go and get dressed.'

But her attempt to re-enter her own room was forestalled by the reality

that there was a giant heap of boxes and bags now sitting on her bed and

two manservants were engaged in opening them. A frown of bemusement on

her brow, she stared. What was going on?

'I'm glad you put the coat on, bella mia,' a dark, deep drawl remarked

from behind her. 'I wouldn't like anyone but me to see you in that

nightdress.'

Holly whirled round. 'For goodness' sake, what are those blokes doing?'

'Unpacking your new wardrobe...what else?'

'Wh-what new wardrobe?' A band of tension was tightening like a vice

round Holly's temples. It was as if she had woken up in another world

where everything was slightly different from what it ought to have been.

But she had still to look any higher than the level of Rio's gold silk tie.

'What we bought yesterday.'

'Are you telling me...there was more than that dress I wore out and the

coat?' Holly gasped, appalled by that news.

'Dio mio, of course there was more. You had nothing but what you stood

up in,' Rio pointed out rather drily.

'But I can't let-'

'Excuse me...' Striding past her, Rio snapped his fingers to alert his

staffs attention and addressed them in Italian. The two men immediately

abandoned their task and filed out. Closing his fingers over hers, Rio

drew her into the

bedroom and pushed the door closed. 'Right now we have something rather

more important to worry about-'

Holly was gazing aghast at the huge heap of shopping strewn across the

bed. 'You can't do this, Rio...it's not right, it's totally wrong-'

'Holly,' Rio slotted in grimly, 'in fifteen minutes a Miss Elliott will

be calling to see us and you need to get dressed. I suggest you wear one

of your new outfits.'

Her brow indented. 'Who's Miss Elliott?'

"The social worker whom you would have seen had you remained in hospital.'

Holly had turned a sickly shade. 'But how did she find out I was here in

your house?'

Rio's wide, sensual mouth compressed. 'I informed Dr Coulter, who's a

friend of mine, that I had brought you here-'

Holly was trying very hard not to burst into tears. 'Some

friend...shopping me to the authorities!'

'Per meraviglia! Will you stop talking as thou

gh you are a criminal? You

and Timothy are both all right now, but naturally enquiries have to be

made to establish that fact.'

"They'll t-take him away from me...' Holly sobbed, backing away from him

in her distress.

Rio gripped her by the shoulders, dark-as-midnight eyes level. 'Nobody

is going to take him away from you. I promise you that. Now pull

yourself together and come downstairs-'

'I can't-'

'You're talking like a child.' Rio dealt her a hard look of censure,

lean, dark features set in impatient lines. 'This matter will be easily