The Tuscan Tycoon's Wife. Lucy Gordon

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was a fatal error. The next moment her foot had slithered from under her and she was falling. But Leo tightened one arm about her, and with the other he reached down, grabbed her behind, and stepped away so fast that he was caught off balance. He staggered back out of the bathroom and for several wild steps he fought to stay upright. But it was no good. The next moment he was on his back on the plush pink carpet, with Selena sprawled naked on top of him.

      ‘Oh God!’ she shivered, clinging onto him and forgetting about modesty, about everything except that wicked looking spike.

      He held on to her, breathing hard, trying to regain his equilibrium which was whirling away into space, among the stars and planets, wild, glorious, dizzying. The feel of her on top of him was both scary and wonderful, and he knew he had to put a stop to it, fast.

      Then his blood froze at an ominous sound.

      A female giggle. Two female giggles. Right outside the door.

      ‘Selena,’ came Carrie’s voice. ‘Can we come in?’

      ‘No!’ Selena’s voice rose to a yelp and she jumped up. She just made it to the door in time, reaching out to turn the key.

      There wasn’t one. The door didn’t lock.

      Disaster!

      ‘Don’t come in, I’m not decent,’ she called, putting her back against the door and pushing. ‘I’ll be down in a minute. Please tell your mom thank you, for me.’

      To their relief the voices faded away.

      Leo pulled himself together, wondering how much more he could stand. If holding her against him on the floor hadn’t destroyed his nervous system, watching her streak across the room like a gazelle had nearly finished him off.

      But it had been useful in ascertaining one thing.

      His rescue had been successful. There wasn’t a scratch on her anywhere.

      She dashed into the bathroom and returned in a towelling robe, which mercifully enveloped her.

      ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘You saved me from something very nasty.’

      He’d gotten to his feet. ‘I’d better go before both our reputations are ruined.’

      ‘What am I going to say to Mrs Hanworth?’

      ‘Leave that to me. I don’t think you should go downstairs at all. Go to bed. That’s an order.’

      He checked the corridor and was relieved to find it empty. But no sooner had he stepped out than Carrie and Billie appeared, almost as though they’d been hiding around the corner.

      ‘Hi Leo! Everything OK?’

      ‘Not quite,’ he said, horribly conscious that he was only half dressed, and trying not to go red. ‘Selena dropped one of the glass jars into the bath, while she was in it, and it smashed.’

      ‘Poor Selena! Is she still trapped in there?’

      ‘No, I got her out, and she’s safe,’ he said, wishing the earth would swallow him up. ‘I promised her I’d tell your mom about the jar. I’ll do that—er—just as soon as I’ve put on a shirt.’

      He got into his room as fast as he could, trying not to hear two teenage girls snickering significantly. It was a sound calculated to freeze a man’s blood.

      Delia reacted just as Leo had known she would, with sympathy and kindness.

      ‘What’s a jar?’ she said. ‘I’ll go and make sure she’s all right.’

      She was back in a few minutes, sweeping into the kitchen to order food to be taken upstairs to Selena. She seemed to have spoken to her daughters in the meantime, for her attitude to Leo had developed a tinge of roguishness.

      ‘I gather you played knight in shining armour. And who could blame you? She’s a very nice-looking girl.’

      ‘Delia, I swear I never met her before today.’

      Fatal mistake. Delia smiled knowingly. ‘You Italians are so dashing and romantic, never missing a chance with the ladies.’

      ‘What are those wonderful smells coming from the kitchen?’ he asked desperately, ‘because you are looking at a starving man.’

      Mercifully food was allowed to drive out all other topics of conversation, and the only other person who raised the matter was Paulie, who nudged Leo aside and said much the same as his mother, except that he made it sound vulgar and offensive. When Leo had smilingly explained to Paulie all the unpleasant things he would do to his person if he ever mentioned it again, the matter was allowed to drop.

      While he dressed for the barbecue Leo tried to get his own reactions in perspective. Despite her prickly defensiveness, for which he reckoned nobody could blame her, Selena was oddly appealing. But there wasn’t, at first glance, anything special about her. Even holding her naked body shouldn’t have been a big deal, since she lacked the buxomness he preferred in women.

      Yet, mysteriously, something about her had got to him. He still couldn’t figure out what, but the sight of Paulie smacking his fat lips over what he thought had gone on in her room had filled him with rage. Leo, the most amiable of men, had only been restrained from violence by recalling that this was his hostess’s son.

      Guests were starting to arrive, heading for the field where the big party was taking place, the same field where last night’s big party had taken place, and where there would be another one just as soon as someone could think of an excuse. Leo watched it from his window, grinning, anticipating the evening.

      ‘Ready for a great time?’ Barton hollered as Leo came down the stairs.

      ‘I’m always ready for that,’ Leo said, truthfully. ‘But can we call in at the stables first?’

      ‘Sure, if you want. But Leo, you don’t have to worry. She’s going to be all right.’

      ‘Elliot’s a he.’

      ‘It wasn’t Elliot I was meaning,’ Barton said, seeming to speak to nobody in particular.

      The anti-inflammatory drug was evidently taking effect, and Elliot seemed contented. The way to the barbecue field led past Barton’s garage, and through the open door Leo could see Selena’s van, and the remains of the horse trailer.

      ‘That’s had its day,’ Barton mused. ‘The wonder is, how it lasted so long.’

      Leo climbed into the van. What he saw there made him grow very still.

      He thought of himself as a man who could cope with tough living, but the inside of her home shocked him. Everything was the barest and meanest possible. There was a couch just long enough for her to sleep, a tiny stove, a minute washing area. The best that could be said for the place was that it was spotlessly clean.

      His own experiences of living rough, he realised, had been those of a rich man, playing with a kind of toy. However harsh the conditions, he could always return to a comfortable life when he got bored with playing. But for

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