Instant appalled paralysis afflicted Darcy. Her green eyes zoomed in on the magazine which contained that dreadful gushing interview, and in the same second she turned the colour of a ripe tomato, her stomach curdling with horror. Embarrassment choked her.
Margo shook her blonde head pityingly. 'I was horrified that Darcy should sell the story of your marriage to a lurid gossip magazine, Luca.'
'Whereas I shall treasure certain phrases spoken in that interview for ever,' Luca purred in a tone of rich compla¬cency, extending his arm to ease Darcy's trembling, anx¬ious length into the hard, muscular heat of his big frame. 'When I read about Darcy's "mystical sense of wonder" and her "spiritual feeling of soul-deep recognition" on first meeting me, I envied her ability to verbalise sensations and sentiments which I myself could never find adequate words to describe.'
'Luca?' Darcy mumbled shakily, shattered that he had actually read that interview and absorbed sufficient of her mindless drivel to quote directly from it.
But Luca, it seemed, was in full appreciative flow. 'In¬deed, I was overwhelmed by such a powerful need to be with Darcy again I flew straight here to her side. I shall; always regard that interview as an open love letter from my wife.'
For the space of ten seconds Margo and Nina just sat there, apparently transfixed.
'Of course, I'm very relieved to hear that the interview hasn't caused any friction between you. I was so worried it would,' Margo responded unconvincingly.
'You surprise me,' Fabulous bone structure grim, eyes wintry, Luca studied their visitors. 'Only a fool could fail to see through your foolish attempts to diminish Darcy in my eyes. She is a woman of integrity, and how she con¬trived to hang onto that integrity growing up with two such vicious women is nothing short of a miracle!'
'How dare you talk to me like that?' Margo gasped, ris¬ing to her feet in sheer shock.
'You resent my wife's ownership of an estate which has been within her family for over four hundred years. You're furious that she has married a rich man who will help her to retain that home. You hoped she would be forced to sell up because you planned to demand a share of the proceeds,' Luca condemned with sizzling distaste. 'That is why I dare to talk to you as I have.'
'I'm not staying here to be insulted,' Margo snapped, stalking towards the door.
'I think that's very wise.'
Luca listened to the thud of the massive front door with complete calm.
Stunned at what had just transpired, Darcy breathed. 'I need to check on Zia...'
'Venezia,' Luca murmured softly, catching her taut fin¬gers in his as she started up the stairs. 'Obviously you chose that name because it held a special significance for you. You were happy with me that night in Venice?'
'Y-yes,' Darcy stammered.
'But we met in what was clearly a troubled and transi¬tional phase of your life.' His lean, strong features were taut, as if he was selecting his words with great care. 'I understand now why you so freely forgave Carlton for jilt¬ing you. Evidently he wasn't the only guilty party. You went to bed with someone other than him before that wed¬ding.'
'No, I didn't!' Angry chagrined colour warmed Darcy's face as she stopped dead in the corridor.
'Accidenti! What's the point of denying it?' Luca de¬manded in exasperation. 'You may well not have been aware of the fact that night, but you were pregnant when you first met me!'
'No...I wasn't,' Darcy told him staunchly, pressing open the door of Zia's bedroom. 'You're still barking up the wrong tree!'
'You must've been pregnant,' Luca contradicted steadily, as if he was dealing with a child fearfully reluctant to own up to misbehaviour. 'Your daughter was born seven months later.'
'Zia was premature. She spent weeks in hospital before I could bring her home...' Darcy held her breath in the silence which followed, and then steeled herself to turn and face him.
Luca had a dazed, disconcerted look in his dark, deep-set eyes. He stared at her. 'She was premature?' he breathed, so low he had to clear his throat to be audible.
'So you see, now that you've been through the butcher, the baker and the candlestick-maker, as they say in the nursery rhyme, we're running out of possible culprits,' Darcy pointed out unsteadily, her throat tight, her mouth dry, her heart thumping like mad behind her breastbone. 'And to be honest, there only ever was one possibility, Luca.'
In the dim light, his eyes suddenly flashed pure gold. 'Are you trying to tell me that...that Zia is mine?' he whis¬pered raggedly.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DARCYS voice let her down when she most needed it. As Luca asked that loaded question she gave a fierce, jerky nod, and she didn't take her strained gaze from him for a second.
Black spiky lashes screened his sensational eyes. He blinked. He was stunned.
Darcy swallowed and relocated her voice. 'And there's not any doubt about it because Richard and I never slept together. We had decided to wait until we were married.' 'Never?' Luca stressed with hoarse incredulity. Darcy grimaced. 'And, since we didn't get married, we never actually made it to bed.'