The Mistress Wife

‘Not always.’

Lucca reached for her hand. It lay in his like a hand carved in ice. ‘I would like to come with you.’

‘You can’t. I might decide to get my hair done,’ she protested.

When Lucca had left the room, Vivien removed her wedding ring and set it down on an elegant chest of drawers. The ring had been a symbol of their marriage and she no longer wanted to wear it. She hoped he did not think that she was making some kind of cheap point. But she knew that she had to rethink their relationship as it now was. At best she was having an affair with her ex-husband. At worst, she was likely to be labelled his mistress. Something rather less respectable than being a wife and decidedly less safe in terms of commitment. Her choice was to accept that or reject it. Right at that moment she reckoned that she hated Lucca as much as she loved him.

It was the very best possible time for Serafina to knock on the bedroom door and hurry in with a delighted smile. A slim young woman with warm brown eyes and a torrent of black curls, she gave Vivien an excited hug. ‘We are going to have a wild time tonight,’ she swore. ‘But don’t feel the need to tell Lucca…he still treats me like I’m a child!’

CHAPTER TEN

‘NO WAY should you be going out dressed like that!’

As if Lucca had not spoken, Vivien added another layer of mascara to her lashes. What she wore was really none of his business. She had gone shopping with Serafina, who had been terrific company and exactly the distraction she needed from her unhappy thoughts. Serafina had persuaded her to buy a short cream leather skirt, a very flattering pale green fitted top and a pair of knee-high soft suede boots.

‘It’s a very sexy outfit…OK,’ Lucca conceded, striving to hang onto his temper, which was difficult when he was in the act of working out that about sixty-five per cent of Vivien’s fabulous figure and stunning legs were on show. ‘Wear that kind of stuff for me but don’t go out in it. It’s not appropriate.’

‘You think I’m too old and staid for a skirt that shows my knees?’ Vivien asked in a tight little voice.

‘No, but it will attract the sort of attention you dislike. Other men are likely to come on to you,’ Lucca delivered, wondering what the hell had come over her for about the hundredth time since they had left Il Palazzetto. All the way to Rome she had talked to their nanny, Rosa, and to Marco but had continually left him out in the cold. She looked at him and yet somehow managed never to meet his eyes direct.

It was only at that point that his attention fell on the wedding ring lying on the chest of drawers beside him and whipped straight to her newly bare left hand. For a split second, he felt as if he had been punched in the gut and flung over a cliff.

‘You’re not wearing your wedding ring,’ Lucca breathed flatly.

‘Now that we’re divorced, I don’t think I should.’ Vivien was proud of the level voice that emerged from her dry mouth.

‘I’m very shocked that you would take it off, cara mia,’ Lucca confided with sincerity, striving not to react to the news that she had finally discovered that they were divorced. He concentrated on the ring issue, which he realised had quite overpowering significance for him. ‘I think you should keep your ring on.’

‘No, it’s part of the past and I’m not your wife any more. I just wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing it now.’

A silence screaming with undertones fell. She kept on adding more mascara to her lashes and was vaguely surprised that they didn’t fall off under the weight. She lifted a lipstick.

‘When did you realise that the divorce had gone through?’ Lucca asked abruptly.

She explained and added, ‘You must have guessed I didn’t know…I wish you’d told me.’

Lucca sought to excuse the inexcusable. ‘It didn’t seem important.’

Her teeth gritted on the angry words of distress that threatened to pour from her in spirited disagreement. Their marriage had been extremely important to her.

Aware that what he had just said had come out wrong, Lucca regrouped and murmured urgently, ‘What I meant to say is…what’s important is that we’re together. We’re very much together—’

‘And divorced,’ Vivien slotted in helplessly.

‘We’re happier than we were when we were first married.’ His lean powerful face was taut, dark golden eyes intent. ‘We know what went wrong and we don’t need a marriage licence to tell us that what we have is worth keeping.’

Involuntarily, Vivien was impressed. At least his words proved that he valued their relationship and that he did see a future for them. But inside herself she still felt savaged by the knowledge that they were no longer man and wife.

Lucca extended her wedding ring. ‘Please put it back on.’

‘I said no,’ she reminded him tightly and resisted the urge to tell him that if he wanted her to wear a wedding ring he shouldn’t have divorced her.

His lean dark features clenched. ‘People are likely to think you’re single.’

‘I am.’

‘Dannazione…what the hell is that supposed to mean?’ Lucca growled with sudden aggression.