He turned his dark intelligent gaze to her as she approached, and she saw his lean face tauten, then smooth to become controlled.
Anxious not to cause any more interest than she was sure had been already aroused, she walked straight past them, through the glass doors and out into the street.
After a few minutes, she heard a firm, energetic tread behind her and Alessandro caught up.
‘Are you all right?’ He looked searchingly down at her, and she met his gaze coolly enough.
‘Fine. I think.’
‘I’m sorry about before, tesoro. I have been trying all day, but the office is not a good place for conversation. Let’s see if we can do better.’ He glanced around for a suitable location. At a nearby corner he spotted a leafy little precinct of shops and cafés. Taking her elbow, he hustled her to it, steering her under an awning shared by a café and a florist shop, halting her next to a giant tub of fragrant stocks. Deceived into believing it was spring, masses of freesias, daffodils and jonquils perfumed the heady air.
Alessandro glanced at his watch, his brows edging together. In contrast with the flowers, he smelled fresh and crisp and masculine. ‘I’ve managed to get some tickets for tonight’s opera. I thought perhaps you might come with me, enjoy the music, and afterwards we can have a little supper while we make our arrangements?’
‘Arrangements?’ She glanced warily at him.
His eyes were cool, steady and determined. ‘For me to meet with Vivi. I know you must prepare her, but we also need to consider how and where it should happen. Don’t we, carissa? We want it to be-good.’
Her pulse quickened, but she had more control this time. ‘That’s a lovely invitation, Alessandro, but I’m afraid I can’t accept. I-I can’t go out another night and leave Vivi with Mum.’ His brows lifted, and she said hurriedly, ‘Mum doesn’t mind, but it would be the third night in a row I’ve asked her to babysit. She has to work, and it’s very tiring for her. Last night I barely made it home in time for her.’ Conscious of the glint in his eyes piercing her right through her cerebral cortex, she added, ‘There’d hardly be time for us to talk, anyway. I’d have to come home straight after the opera, and-’ She shrugged and lowered her gaze, mumbling, ‘And anyway, Vivi needs me to be with her.’
His face became smooth and expressionless, and he nodded his head. ‘I see. So many reasons. Well, well, of course she does need you…It’s a pity. It does make it quite difficult for me. I don’t have very much time before I go to my next appointment in Bangkok.’
He glanced at his watch again, his jaw set grimly, and started to move away, negative vibrations whirling. Then all at once he turned back and gripped her arm, sending a bolt of pleasurable electricity searing through her flesh. ‘Is this reluctance because you’re angry about my marriage to Giulia? Is that why you accused me of forgetting you?’
Perhaps because she’d been so stirred up earlier, her emotions all sprang to the fore, ready for another workout.
She drew herself up to her full five seven. ‘What? I’m not reluctant. That’s a ridiculous thing to say. Look, what you don’t seem to realise is that when you’re a parent you can’t just drop everything at a whim. I do want you to know Vivi. I do. But I can’t help your time frame. If you just appear every six years, hang around for a few days then disappear again-that’s not my fault, is it?’
His mouth and jaw tightened. ‘That is the work I do. That is how my life is.’
She shrugged. ‘Well, there you are. And as for you forgetting me-well, too right you did. What else am I to think? One minute you were here with me, then five minutes later you married her.’
A flush darkened the bronzed skin of his lean cheek. ‘If only I had forgotten you.’ He breathed so hard his nostrils flared. ‘It was you who feared to fly away with me, remember? When I married Giulia I didn’t expect you to know or even care. But-’ he raised both of his hands in a very Italian gesture ‘-since you clearly do need to know, I’ll tell you all of it. I married her because it was necessary for her to have a husband.’
A searing pain stabbed her heart at the same instant as some scalding hot emotion shot straight to her head. ‘Why? Was she pregnant too?’
He closed his eyes, his flush deepening, and said through gritted teeth, ‘Don’t…’ Then he held up a hand, as if to forestall her from repeating the frightful word. ‘No, she was not pregnant.’ His consonants were so closely clipped he almost bit the words out. ‘She was afraid.’
Relief made her legs go like jelly, and to her surprise and severe annoyance she backed into the tub of stocks and her knees gave way. Alessandro’s hands shot out to grab her, an instant before her bottom hit the water level.
With a shocked, concerned expression, he steadied her and pulled her onto her feet, helped her to brush her flustered self down, and drew her away before she could do any more damage to the merchandise.
The florist emerged from the shop interior. She broke into a beam when Alessandro turned to placate her, his hands flying about in profuse expressions of regret.
The ignominy of falling into a tub and having stalks stick into her didn’t soothe Lara’s jagged feelings. It hardly helped her swallow pathetic explanations as to why he’d had to marry that woman.
Afraid indeed. She checked the back of her skirt. Afraid of what? Scared D &G might get a divorce?
Part of her was aware of Alessandro apologising about the stocks, insisting on buying them all, writing something on the back of a card for the florist. Lara picked up on him cementing his relationship with the gushing woman by selecting a further bunch of freesias and paying her, seducing her utterly with his potent charm formula.
Typical, Lara glowered. Perhaps the florist was scared of getting her flowers crushed. Perhaps he should marry her.
She might have actually muttered some of that aloud, because she felt Alessandro’s gaze swivel around to examine her. Judging by the acute glance piercing her skull, he might have caught some of her words.
When the woman had taken the freesias inside to wrap, he said in a low, casual voice, ‘As a matter of fact, she was scared of her ex-husband.’
‘Yeah, was she?’
He looked intently at her. ‘Yes, she was. Gino was a hotheaded guy. He’d abused her. It was one of those-obsessive situations where he couldn’t accept the end of their marriage. He continually threatened her. Doesn’t this sort of thing happen here? She was terrified.’ His dark eyes hardened with recollection. ‘She felt she needed to live with someone who could protect her.’
She nodded, just managing not to roll her eyes. ‘Oh, the poor little woman. Right. Of course she needed to live with you. What else could she have done? Oh, and she had to marry you. Naturally. I see that.’
His eyes lit with an intense piercing gleam, and she found it hard to maintain her cool, breezy façade because inside she was simmering with fury.
Well, well, well. How very convenient to have a handsome marchese on hand to marry when the going got rough. Never mind that that marchese belonged to another woman on the other side of the world. A woman he’d promised to return to. A woman with genuine need of him.
Her words seemed to have piqued more than his curiosity. That gleam in his eyes wasn’t too far from satisfaction-possibly even amusement. If he hadn’t been looking so tall and lean and intelligent, so edible with his black hair and olive tan in contrast with his Armani suit, blue shirt and purple silk tie, she could have slapped his handsome face.
She restrained herself, only just, but couldn’t eliminate a certain tinge of sarcasm from her voice. ‘How very noble of you to make such a sacrifice.’ She saw his brows lift in aristocratic query, but her indignation spurred her on. ‘Why couldn’t she have gone to the police, or the courts? They have them in Italy, don’t they?’