The Helen Bianchin And The Regency Scoundrels And Scandals Collections. Louise Allen
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elegant mansion—Carly refused to call it home—shortly after three to find a silver-grey BMW standing in the driveway.
‘For you,’ Joe Bardini informed Carly as he emerged from the house to greet them. ‘Mr Alessi had it delivered this morning.’
Had he, indeed! ‘It’s very nice, Joe,’ she accorded quietly, and she veiled her eyes so that he wouldn’t see the anger evident.
‘Mr Alessi suggested you might like to take it for a test drive.’
She managed a warm smile, and indicated her briefcase. ‘I think I’ll get changed first.’
‘It’s really hot,’ Ann-Marie declared as she followed Carly indoors. ‘Can we go for a swim?’
Ten minutes later they were laughing and splashing together in the shallow end of the pool, and after half an hour Carly persuaded her daughter to emerge on the pretext of having a cool drink.
‘Look,’ Ann-Marie alerted her from the pool’s edge. ‘Daddy’s home.’ The name slid so easily, so naturally off the little girl’s tongue, with no hesitation or reservation whatsoever, and Carly felt her stomach clench with pain.
She was suddenly supremely conscious of the simply styled maillot, and, although it was perfectly respectable when dry, wet, it clung lovingly to soft curves. Much too lovingly, she saw with dismay, conscious of the way it hugged her breasts.
Slowly she turned to face him, a faint false smile pulling at the edges of her mouth as she wound a towel around Ann-Marie’s small frame, then she quickly reached for another, draping it over one shoulder in the hope that it would provide some sort of temporary cover.
Her action amused him, and she met his gaze with equanimity, heighteningly aware of his studied appraisal and her own damning reaction.
It was difficult to keep the smile in place, but she managed—just. If she’d been alone she would have slapped his face.
It was perhaps as well that he turned his attention to his daughter, whose wide, solemn eyes switched from one parent to the other as she assessed his show of affection and her mother’s reaction.
Consequently Carly presented a relaxed façade, deliberately injecting some warmth as she enquired as to his day, and commented on his early return.
‘I thought we might drive out to one of the beaches for a barbecue,’ Stefano suggested, and was immediately rewarded with Ann-Marie’s enthusiastic response.
‘Can we go in the new car?’
His answering smile was her reward. ‘I don’t see why not.’
There was no way Carly could demur, and with a few words and a fixed smile she directed her daughter upstairs to shower and change.
It was after five when Stefano drove the BMW out of the driveway and headed towards one of the northern beaches, where he played chef, cooking steak and sausages to perfection while Carly busied herself setting out a variety of salads, sliced a freshly baked French breadstick, and enjoyed a light wine spritzer.
The air was fresh and clean, slightly tangy with the smell of the sea. A faint warm breeze drifted in from the ocean, teasing the length of her hair, and she gazed out to the horizon, seeing deep blue merge with clear azure, aware in that moment of a profound feeling of awe for the magnitude and greatness of nature. There was a sense of timelessness, almost an awareness that life was extremely tenuous, gifted by some powerful deity, and that each day, each hour, should be seized for the enjoyment of its beauty.
Tears welled at the backs of her eyes and threatened to spill. Dear God, what would she do if anything happened to Ann-Marie? How could she cope?
‘Mummy, what’s wrong?’
Carly caught her scattered thoughts together and summoned a smile. ‘I’m admiring the view,’ she explained, and, reaching down, she lifted Ann-Marie into her arms and directed her attention out over the ocean. ‘Look, isn’t that a ship in the distance?’
They ate sausages tasting faintly of smoke, tender steak, and the two adults washed it all down with a light fruity wine, then they packed everything back into the boot of the car and walked along the foreshore.
Ann-Marie chattered happily, pausing every now and then to inspect and collect seashells, which she presented for Carly’s inspection, then when she grew tired Stefano lifted her high to sit astride his shoulders, and they made their way slowly back to the car.
A gentle breeze tugged at Carly’s long cotton skirt and teased the length of her hair. The sun’s warmth was beginning to cool as the giant orb sank lower in the sky, its colour flaring brilliantly as it changed from yellow to gold to orange, then to a deep rose before sinking below the horizon. The keening seagulls quietened, and took their last sweeping flight before seeking shelter for the night.
There was a sense of peace and tranquillity, almost a feeling of harmony with the man walking at her side, and for a moment she wondered if their marriage could have worked…Then she dismissed it in the knowledge that there were too many ‘if only’s. There was only now.
‘You take the wheel,’ Stefano instructed as they reached the car, and Carly shook her head, unwilling to familiarise herself with a new vehicle while he sat in the passenger seat. ‘I insist,’ he added quietly, and in Ann-Marie’s presence she had little option but to accede.
It was almost nine when they arrived home, and Ann-Marie was so tired that she fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.
‘COFFEE?’ STEFANO queried as they descended the staircase, and Carly nodded her head in silent acquiescence.
In the kitchen she filled the percolator with water, selected a fresh filter, spooned in a measure of freshly ground coffee-beans, then activated the machine before reaching for two cups and saucers, sugar.
‘From now on, use the BMW.’
Resentment flared in his mocking command. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my car,’ she retaliated at once. ‘It’s roadworthy and reliable.’
His gaze trapped hers and she felt every single hair on her body prickle with inexplicable foreboding. ‘When was it last fully serviced?’
Too long ago, Carly admitted silently, all too aware that over the past few months all her money had gone on expensive medical bills.
‘You don’t like the BMW?’ Stefano queried with deceptive mildness, and she summoned a false smile.
‘I presume it’s the “in” vehicle that wives of wealthy corporate directors are driving this year.’
His eyes narrowed fractionally, and the edges of his mouth curved with cynicism. ‘That wasn’t the reason I chose it.’
‘No?’ Her faint smile was tinged with mockery. ‘It does, however, fit the required image.’
‘And what is that, Carly?’ Stefano pursued with dangerous softness.
‘You’re a very successful man,’ she returned solemnly, ‘who has to be seen to surround himself with the trappings of success.’ She lifted an expressive hand and effected an encompassing gesture. ‘This house, the cars. Even the women who grace a part of your life.’
His eyes locked with hers, and she suppressed a faint shivery sensation at the dark implacability evident.
‘You know nothing of the women in my life.’
It was like a knife twisting deep inside her heart, and she fought visibly to contain the pain. She even managed to dredge up a smile as his eyes seared hers, dark, brooding, and infinitely hard.
Carly felt as if she couldn’t breathe, and the beat of her heart seemed to thud right through