The Italian's Wife

'R & R?'

'Rest and recuperation. A lady is coming to see you tomorrow.'

Recognising the flash of instant panic in her wide eyes, Rio gave her a

bland smile of reassurance. 'Nobody is going to make any arrangements

against your will, but I think you'll agree that you need some

professional advice and support right now.'

Holly's tummy muscles contracted in a sickening spasm of alarm, her thin

shoulders hunching as she lost colour. At last, she gained the strength

to take her eyes from him, but only because fear and deep shame over her

own failure to give her son a proper home made it impossible for her to

continue meeting his level gaze.

'You'll both be fine,' Rio asserted in conclusion, strolling back to the

door.

For an instant he hesitated as he remembered that crazy thought he had

had only a few minutes before Holly fell in front of his limo. She was,

indisputably, the very first woman he had met since walking out on

Christabel.

Just as well he wasn't insane enough to marry a complete stranger, he

told himself with grim amusement. After all, Holly Sansom might be green

as grass but she was still an unmarried mother. While he was a male who

prided himself on his open mind, his family background and traditional

Italian upbringing had imbued him with certain values and expectations.

27

Pale as death, Holly flopped back against the pillows, feeling as weak

as water and trembling.

She had gawped at Rio Lombardi like a bedazzled kid and had severely

embarrassed herself. Since she had never felt that way around a man

before, not even around Jeff, she could only put her behaviour down to

the effects of concussion and total exhaustion. Fortunately a guy like

Rio Lombardi, so rich and so important and so utterly above her in every

way, wouldn't have noticed how awkward and silly she had been, she told

herself. In any case, she had a lot more to worry about than the poor

impression she had made on some bloke she was never likely to see again!

From her bed she stared at her sleeping son, tears stinging her strained

eyes in a blinding surge. She adored Timmie; she could not begin to

imagine her life without him. But tomorrow authority, with all its

unlimited power, was coming in the guise of that lady Rio Lombardi had

smoothly mentioned. Why hadn't she had the strength to get up and walk

away after her fall in that street? Once officialdom became involved,

the die would be cast.

Rio Lombardi had sworn that no arrangements would be made without her

agreement. Did he really think that she was that stupid? She had had her

baby out in the middle of the night. She had no home to go to and that

doctor would confirm that she had been betraying signs of hypothermia.

Those three facts were like three big extra nails being hammered into

her coffin. The powers-that-be would decide that she was an unfit mother

and would lose no time in removing Timmie from such inadequate care.

Just half an hour ago she had been telling herself that it was her duty

to give Timmie up for adoption, but when it came to the crunch she could

feel herself tearing apart inside at the prospect of never, ever again

having the right to hold his sweet, trusting weight in her arms. Surely

she could do better? Surely she had enough backbone to pull herself up

out of the mess she was in and provide for her own child?

Couldn't she allow herself one more chance? Was that so selfish? Tears

streaming down her guilty face, she studied Timmie in despair. He was

all she had, all the family she was ever likely to have. She would go to

a shelter for the homeless, one of those places from which advice came

without the price of remorseless, grinding officialdom. If it killed

her, she would find them somewhere to live. Only if she was faced with

another night on the streets would she acknowledge defeat and accept

that adoption was the only solution. That was the pact she made with

herself, the promise she knew she had to make for her son's sake.

But she had to get out of the hospital before that lady came to call in

a few hours' time, she told herself frantically. However, Timmie needed

his sleep and she still felt too dizzy to walk, so she had to be

sensible and stay in her bed as long as possible.

On his way to a business meeting at eight that morning, Rio found the

memory of Holly Sansom's frightened face continually flashing up between

him and the figures he was scrutinising.

In one of the snap decisions that invariably threw his employees

off-balance, Rio swept up the phone to communicate with his chauffeur

and told him to head for the

28

hospital instead of the Lombardi Industries building. Impatience

tightening his sculpted mouth as he checked his watch, he questioned his

sense of responsibility. He had done all that he could reasonably do.

However, he should have kept quiet about the social worker's visit.

Forewarning Holly had been careless, and he had only made that mistake

because he had gone without sleep for too long.

The limo drew to a halt in the busy car park of the foundation hospital.

Waiting with a sigh for his chauffeur to walk round the bonnet in his

usual dignified fashion, which he knew was simply a ploy to ensure that

his security team alighted from their car behind in advance of himself,

Rio caught a glimpse of a bright bronze head moving behind the line of

cars parked about forty feet away. In a sudden movement, a vicious swear

word impelled from his lips, Rio thrust the door of his limo open for

himself and sprang out to stride in the same direction.

'Holly!'

Hearing that shout just when she had believed she was free and clear of

having attracted any adverse notice almost gave Holly a heart attack.

Her blood literally chilling in her veins with fright, she spun round,

her arms automatically tightening round her child.

Rio Lombardi stepped up onto the pavement ahead of her. 'Where the

blazes do you think you're going?'

He was the very last person she had expected to see, and for the first

time she was facing him upright and he was an incredibly intimidating

figure. She was five feet four but he had to be almost twelve inches

>

taller, and he had shoulders like a rugby player that even his fancy

dark business suit could not conceal. He also looked...livid, shimmering

dark golden eyes flaming over her, telegraphing anger and strong censure.

'I...I'm g-going to find a shelter for the homeless-'

'Like bloody hell you are!' Rio interrupted, lean strong face set in

steely lines as he closed the distance between them in a couple of

strides. 'Where's his pushchair?'

'I c-couldn't find it-'

Holly was trembling, her own guilty conflict over her decision to give

herself one more chance intensified by the disapproval Rio Lombardi was

emanating in powerful waves. Just twenty-four hours, only twenty-four

hours, that was all she had wanted.

'Give Timmie to me...' he demanded.

And, so shaken and ashamed was Holly as she stood there with tears

filling her anguished eyes, she found herself instinctively obeying that

authoritarian note of absolute command. As Rio Lombardi reached out she

let him take her son from her. A split-second later she could not credit

what she had done and she stared up at Rio Lombardi in dismay, her

distraught face pale as parchment. 'Give him back to me!'

'Not until you agree to go back inside and wait to see the social

worker, who is going to help you,' Rio stressed, watching her begin to

tremble and recognising her fear. Striving not to feel like a bully, he

reminded himself that he was doing the best thing for both mother and child.

'I can't do that!' Holly suddenly sobbed.

As Rio removed his frustrated attention from her he caught a glimpse of