Read Online The Count's Blackmail Bargain by Sara Craven - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sara Craven
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restlessly, feeling the fine linen sheet that covered her grazing her skin as if it were raw. And soon.
It could be managed, of course, and quite easily. Paolo could pretend to take her on the visit to Tuscany they’d originally planned. Once they were alone, who would ever know if she slipped away and took an early flight back to London? And as long as Paolo kept a low profile, he could spend his vacation time exactly as he wished.
It wasn’t what she wanted—it saddened her that she wouldn’t see Florence or any of the region’s other proud cities—but it was clear that she could no longer trust Paolo. And it was a way of dealing with a problem that was threatening to snowball into a crisis, entirely through her own stupidity.
Not that she could ever tell Paolo that. This was another truth that would have to be suppressed.
And he never wanted to come here in the first place, she thought.
So he can hardly complain if I say I want to leave.
She turned over, burying her face determinedly in the pillow. And if her sleep was haunted by dreams, they did not linger to be remembered in the morning.
The determination, however, persisted, stronger than ever, and Laura sang softly to herself as she showered and dressed in a blue denim skirt and a sleeveless white top.
It was another glorious day, with the sun already burning off the faint haze around the tops of the hills. Probably her last day in Italy, she thought, and she would make the most of every minute.
She and Paolo would sort everything on the trip to Assisi, and by tomorrow they could be out of here, and life could return to normal again.
She would even learn to laugh about the last couple of days. Make a good story out of the Signora. Tell Gaynor, ‘Hey, I met a man who was the ultimate sex on a stick, and fabulously wealthy too.’
Let it all sound like fun, without a moment of self-doubt, she thought as she brushed her hair.
She had taken careful note of the route to the main part of the house the previous night, and found the dining room without difficulty, only to discover that it was deserted with no sign of food.
They eat dinner late, maybe breakfast is the same, she thought, slightly nonplussed. As she was wandering back into the entrance hall she was swooped on by Emilia, who led her firmly into the salotto and indicated that she should go out onto the terrace.
She emerged cautiously and paused in dismay, because Alessio was there alone, seated at the table, which was now covered by a white cloth. A few feet away, in the shade, a large trolley was stationed, and she saw that it held a platter with ham on the bone, together with a dish of cheese, a basket of bread rolls and a bowl of fruit. A pot of coffee was keeping warm on a heater.
‘Buon giorno.’ He had seen her, and, putting down the newspaper he was reading, rose to his feet, depriving her of the chance to retreat back into the villa. ‘You rested well?’
‘Yes—thank you.’ Reluctantly, she took the seat he indicated and unfolded her napkin, glancing at the table. ‘Only two places?’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Where are the others?’
‘They are breakfasting in their rooms,’ Alessio told her. ‘My aunt, because she prefers it. Paolo, because he is too ill to leave his bed,’
he added sardonically.
‘Too ill?’ Laura echoed, taking the glass of chilled peach juice he’d poured for her. ‘What do you mean?’
He shrugged. ‘His cold. It has become infinitely worse. His mother is most concerned. Every lemon we possess is being squeezed to make drinks for him, and she has commandeered every painkiller in the house.’
‘Oh.’ Laura digested this, her dismay deepening by the second.
She had not bargained for this development. She said, ‘Perhaps I’d better go to him, too. See how he is, and if I can help.’
‘A word of advice, bella mia,’ Alessio said lazily. ‘A wolf, a bear and my aunt Lucrezia—never come between any of them and their cubs. So, stay
It could be managed, of course, and quite easily. Paolo could pretend to take her on the visit to Tuscany they’d originally planned. Once they were alone, who would ever know if she slipped away and took an early flight back to London? And as long as Paolo kept a low profile, he could spend his vacation time exactly as he wished.
It wasn’t what she wanted—it saddened her that she wouldn’t see Florence or any of the region’s other proud cities—but it was clear that she could no longer trust Paolo. And it was a way of dealing with a problem that was threatening to snowball into a crisis, entirely through her own stupidity.
Not that she could ever tell Paolo that. This was another truth that would have to be suppressed.
And he never wanted to come here in the first place, she thought.
So he can hardly complain if I say I want to leave.
She turned over, burying her face determinedly in the pillow. And if her sleep was haunted by dreams, they did not linger to be remembered in the morning.
The determination, however, persisted, stronger than ever, and Laura sang softly to herself as she showered and dressed in a blue denim skirt and a sleeveless white top.
It was another glorious day, with the sun already burning off the faint haze around the tops of the hills. Probably her last day in Italy, she thought, and she would make the most of every minute.
She and Paolo would sort everything on the trip to Assisi, and by tomorrow they could be out of here, and life could return to normal again.
She would even learn to laugh about the last couple of days. Make a good story out of the Signora. Tell Gaynor, ‘Hey, I met a man who was the ultimate sex on a stick, and fabulously wealthy too.’
Let it all sound like fun, without a moment of self-doubt, she thought as she brushed her hair.
She had taken careful note of the route to the main part of the house the previous night, and found the dining room without difficulty, only to discover that it was deserted with no sign of food.
They eat dinner late, maybe breakfast is the same, she thought, slightly nonplussed. As she was wandering back into the entrance hall she was swooped on by Emilia, who led her firmly into the salotto and indicated that she should go out onto the terrace.
She emerged cautiously and paused in dismay, because Alessio was there alone, seated at the table, which was now covered by a white cloth. A few feet away, in the shade, a large trolley was stationed, and she saw that it held a platter with ham on the bone, together with a dish of cheese, a basket of bread rolls and a bowl of fruit. A pot of coffee was keeping warm on a heater.
‘Buon giorno.’ He had seen her, and, putting down the newspaper he was reading, rose to his feet, depriving her of the chance to retreat back into the villa. ‘You rested well?’
‘Yes—thank you.’ Reluctantly, she took the seat he indicated and unfolded her napkin, glancing at the table. ‘Only two places?’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Where are the others?’
‘They are breakfasting in their rooms,’ Alessio told her. ‘My aunt, because she prefers it. Paolo, because he is too ill to leave his bed,’
he added sardonically.
‘Too ill?’ Laura echoed, taking the glass of chilled peach juice he’d poured for her. ‘What do you mean?’
He shrugged. ‘His cold. It has become infinitely worse. His mother is most concerned. Every lemon we possess is being squeezed to make drinks for him, and she has commandeered every painkiller in the house.’
‘Oh.’ Laura digested this, her dismay deepening by the second.
She had not bargained for this development. She said, ‘Perhaps I’d better go to him, too. See how he is, and if I can help.’
‘A word of advice, bella mia,’ Alessio said lazily. ‘A wolf, a bear and my aunt Lucrezia—never come between any of them and their cubs. So, stay
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