Forbidden or For Bedding?

Her son frowned. ‘God, no!’ he exclaimed feelingly. ‘How could you hope for such a thing? Unrequited love is the very last thing I would want for her! None of this mess is of her making, and I certainly acquit her of any ambition to marry me.’ He gave a short, humourless laugh. ‘Her appearance at dinner was enough to convince me of that. She had no design to attract me. She had neglected to change out of her jeans—Heinrich and Annelise were not pleased.’

‘No, I imagine they would not be,’ observed his mother. ‘But Louisa is very pretty, Guy—Annelise took pains to send me the studio shots she had done in the summer. Too overdone, but that’s just Annelise’s taste. Underneath the bones are good.’

‘Pretty?’ echoed Guy condemningly, and said no more.

He did not want ‘pretty’. His eyes veiled, masking memories.

His mother glanced at him assessingly. ‘Not all women can aspire to the allure of Signorina Crespi,’ she remarked dryly.

Guy gave a slight shrug but said nothing, aware that his mother was still looking at him. He glanced at his watch. He wanted out of this conversation, but knew he owed his mother the courtesy of letting her raise the subject. He could hardly exclude her.

‘So, what are the plans in respect of the wedding?’

He glanced back up at her. ‘I have no idea. It is not imminent.’ His lips pressed tightly. ‘Despite Heinrich’s eagerness!’

His mother nodded. ‘That is sensible. Such affairs should not be rushed. I must get in touch with Annelise. And of course Louisa must visit here too.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Guy heavily. He glanced at his watch again. ‘Maman, you must excuse me. I have a dinner engagement in Paris. The helicopter is on standby.’

Again that speculative look was in his mother’s eyes. ‘A personal engagement?’ she ventured.

Guy’s expression closed. ‘No. Business.’ He paused, then said deliberately, ‘I know enough, Maman, to follow the conventions! The only press coverage about me outside the financial press will be in respect of Louisa. And now, forgive me, I must go.’

He took his leave, dutifully kissing his mother on her scented cheek, and strode off. From her place on the Louis Quinze sofa his mother watched him go. Her expression was troubled. A long engagement for a man like her son, fêted by women and used to their enjoyment, was not a good idea. Louisa von Lorenz was young—but a pretty, adoring young bride, swept off her feet by a handsome, sophisticated and experienced husband, could make a workable marriage. And who knew? A softening look in her eyes. Perhaps an adoring young bride would finally inspire her son to do what would be best for him—fall in love.

She picked up her needlework again, the troubled look gone, replaced by hope. Above all she wished her son the gift of a marriage based on love. Even if it took a marriage de covenance to achieve it, as it had in her case.

Would it be so for her son as well?

For now, she could only watch, and wait, in hope.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘ALEXA, it’s the best thing that could have happened to you. Richard Saxonby is seriously nice. Plus he’s good-looking, well-heeled, and really keen on you. You couldn’t do better!’

Imogen’s encomium was a ringing endorsement of what Alexa already knew about the man who was asking her out. Richard was indeed seriously nice. Plus he was good company and intelligent, which was important to her—though Alexa did not regard as highly as Imogen his financial status and keenness on her. She liked him, and, yes, with her eyes she could see he was good looking, with his brown hair and brown eyes, and sturdy, muscular build.

But did that mean she should go out with him?

‘Yes!’ urged Imogen. ‘You can’t go on moping for ever!’

‘I am not moping,’ Alexa replied evenly.

‘Just living like a nun.’ Imogen said acidly. She rolled her eyes. ‘It’s been four months since Guy de Rochemont did the dirty on you. And since then—’ she ignored the customary rejection Alexa always gave whenever she heard Guy criticised ‘—all you’ve done is work, work, work. If it hadn’t been for me plaguing you, you wouldn’t have seen a soul except your clients! C’mon, Alexa—it’s time to rejoin the female race. Guy’s history—and you’re well out of it. Find someone normal, with emotions, not just some jerk who thinks his zillions entitle him to treat women like disposable sex toys whenever he wants some personal R&R when he’s not adding to his gold piles. That’s why Richard Saxonby’s so good—he’s nice, for Pete’s sake!’

‘Too nice,’ Alexa prevaricated. ‘I don’t want to—’

She stopped. Saying more would be revealing, and since Imogen was only too ready to find any reason to persist in her castigation of Guy de Rochemont Alexa did not want to add any fuel to the fire. But silently she completed the sentence in her own head.

I don’t want to give him false hope…

Even as the words formed she felt the familiar scrape against her heart. If only familiarity lessened the pain—but it had never yet seemed to. For over four months her strategy had simply been to ignore the pain. Acknowledge it was there, but otherwise ignore it. After all, what else could she do? She had fallen in love—stupidly and unintentionally and rashly—with a man who was the very last she should have fallen in love with. He’d never expected her to, and if he’d known she had he would have been appalled with her. It wasn’t his fault she’d gone and done it, which meant that the fall-out was hers and hers alone. She had to tough it out, that was all, because what else was there to do? At some point, surely, she would wake up one morning and realise that she was over him? Then, and only then, would she be ready to do what Imogen was vocally urging her to do—move on.

Move on to another man.

But that was the stumbling block. It was unimaginable still even to think of becoming emotionally involved with another man. The very thought was impossible. And for that reason she didn’t want anyone becoming emotionally hung up on her. Especially not someone as nice as Richard Saxonby.

She’d met him at one of Imogen’s frequent dinner parties, to one of which she’d finally been lured, and it was blatantly obvious he’d been carefully selected as a dinner guest by Imogen, purely to dangle in front of her. She’d been placed next to him, and Alexa had to allow that Richard ticked a lot of boxes. He was nice, funny, good-natured and good-looking.