The Italian's Wife

Ezio's face. His security chief was positioned about twenty feet away,

watching him in frank astonishment. Rio's high cheekbones fired with a

slight rise of colour.

'You must be sensible about this...' Rio stated as the baby in his arms

went all stiff and loosed an anxious little moan of fright at the sound

of his mother's distress. Timmie was just about to blow. Indeed, any

moment now, mass hysteria was going to break out and spread like a disease,

30

Rio recognised with a very male sense of discomfiture. Dio mio, they

were in a public place and he didn't know what had got into him. He

could only recall the savage jolt of pure rage he had felt at the sight

of Holly trying to sneak away from the safety of the hospital.

'Please...give him back!' Holly cried.

An older man unlocking his car just yards away had now halted the

activity to openly stare, his expression already that of someone

thinking that perhaps he ought to intervene. Rio threw his proud head

back and murmured in a tone calculated to soothe, 'My car's just over

there. We'll discuss this calmly in private.'

Holly was totally disconcerted when Rio just strode away from her. But

she raced after him in a panic. As the chauffeur yanked open the door of

the gleaming silver limousine Rio broke the habit of a lifetime and,

instead of standing back politely to allow Holly first access, climbed

in ahead of her, thereby forestalling any possibility of further debate

in public.

Holly shot in after him like a mouse in stricken pursuit of a cat. The

passenger door closed on her. Rio Lombardi had her son clasped under one

arm while he spoke to someone in his own language on the car phone.

In a daze of confusion, Holly absorbed the startling sight of Timmie

smiling up at Rio. Timmie, who never smiled at anyone but her! Her head

ached even more. She felt clammy and sick and scared. 'Please give him

back to me...'

'Look, I haven't got time for this right now. I have a very important

meeting to get to,' Rio imparted, leaning forward to make some curious

adjustment to the rear of the leather seat facing them. Before her

bemused eyes, a child's travelling seat complete with safety restraint

folded down out of the once flat surface.

'Mr Lombardi-er-'

'You can stay at my home for a few days until you feel stronger,' Rio

cut in flatly. 'You're in no fit state to make decisions right now.

It'll give you a breathing space.'

'Your...home?' Holly was so taken aback by that offer coming at her out

of the blue that she could only stare at his bold bronzed profile with

wide shaken eyes.

Rio settled Timmie into the baby seat. After tightening everything up,

he snapped the harness into place with a definite air of satisfaction at

his own efficiency.

'Your home?' Holly watched his manoeuvres in bewildered stillness, quite

unable to react with any greater volubility. Her head was pounding fit

to burst and her brain felt like mush, for she had had little sleep

during what had remained of the night hours while she fretted and waited

for an opportunity to steal out of the hospital without being noticed.

'Why not?' Suppressing the faint suspicion that once again he was

reacting in an impulsive manner that was quite unlike him, Rio told

himself that rescuing Holly would be his good deed for the year and he

warmed to the concept at similar speed. He would soon get them sorted

out. He might have given millions to humanitarian causes but when had he

ever become personally involved in someone else's problems? But

intervention was definitely required. Without a helping hand, there was

an all too real possibility that Holly Sansom would end up selling her

body for the price of her next meal. A pervert would spot her from a

distance of a hundred yards, Rio reflected with distaste. She had victim

written all over her. As for Timmie...well, Timmie was already measuring

up to follow faithfully in his mother's footsteps.

'Why...not?' Holly echoed, pressing a weak hand to the bruising that

still throbbed at the back of her skull. 'Because

32

people don't do stuff like that for people they don't know.'

Rio settled brilliant, dark, deep-set eyes on her. 'Make your mind up.'

Holly tensed at that demand. He was offering them a lifeline. A roof, a

bed, no worries about food or the future for a few days. He was an

incredible guy. He was just so kind. She could not believe how kind he

was being when he had been so furious with her only minutes earlier. 'OK.'

'I'll make the arrangements.' Rio swept up the phone and watched Ezio

answer from the front seat. At one point during that conversation, Ezio

twisted round to frown in amazement through the glass panel separating

him from his employer. Rio ignored that pointed reaction.

That deep, dark, sexy drawl of his just seemed to shimmy down her spine,

Holly thought absently. She loved his voice even though she hadn't a

clue what he was saying. Catching herself up on that mortifying train of

thought, Holly reddened fierily.

'As soon as I've been dropped off for my meeting, my security chief will

take you to my town house. Any problems, speak to Ezio. He speaks

English but most of my household staff don't,' Rio warned her.

Holly nodded uncertainly, momentarily attempting to picture the kind of

world where a person had household staff, and then watching the gold in

Rio's eyes reflect the light, her mouth running dry and her breath

catching in her throat.

Rio sprang out of the limo outside Lombardi Industries.

Ezio cleared his throat. 'Miss Kent won't like another woman in the

house, boss.'

Rio froze. 'The wedding's off, Ezio.'

Leaving the older man gazing after him in consternation, Rio strode on

into the building, inclining his proud dark

head in acknowledgement of the doorman's respectful greeting and

concentrating his mind on the challenging business meeting ahead with

considerable relief.

The limo nosed its way with all the arrogant assurance of its owner back

into the flow of traffic. Holly breathed in slowly and deeply and then

pinched the back of her hand. The stinging sensation of that small hurt

convinced her that she was not dreaming. She was really and truly

sitting in Rio Lombardi's fabulous limousine. For potentially the next

forty-eight hours she could stop worrying. He had taken pity on her.

Inwardly, Holly squirmed, the self-esteem that had been battered to

ground-level in recent months burning at the wretched awareness that she

was just a charity case to a male like Rio Lombardi. Well, she had never

let anyone do her favours for free. She would make herself useful round

his house, repaying his generosity the only way she could. But at that

moment the simple knowledge that she needed to worry neither about food

nor shelter in the immediate future was like a giant weight rolling off

her shoulders.

Just how had she contrived to sink so low that she was prepared to

accept such charit

y? It had happened by degrees, she conceded. But

undoubtedly her biggest and worst mistake had been getting involved with

Jeff Danby...

Holly had grown up on a hill farm on Exmoor where her father was the

tenant farmer. Her parents had married late in life and her mother had

been forty when Holly was born. That her mother never conceived again

had been a source of deep disappointment to her parents, for it had

meant that there would be no son to help out when her father became too

old to cope alone with the harsh winters and the lambing season and that

eventually he would have to give up the tenancy.

34

She had had a happy childhood and she had enjoyed school. But possibly,

as an only and much loved child, she had been a little spoilt, she