was pulling her towards his car, a sleek black Jaguar parked discreetly down a side-road.
Julia shied away but he was much bigger and stronger than her and suffused with angry determination.
There was no way that Riccardo was going to let this little madam escape until she confessed that the whole ridiculous thing had been a web of lies.
He realised that he was furiously trying to remember when he and Caroline had made love for the last time. He knew that it was certainly towards the end of their doomed marriage. He had returned home very late and a little the worse for wear with drink, but clutching a bunch of flowers, his attempt to woo the wife who had already mentally left him. The wife, he only acknowledged later, he had already also left behind.
It hadn’t worked. She had patiently allowed herself to be awakened, to be presented with the sad bunch of flowers. She had been polite enough to stick them in a vase of water, even though she would surely have been tired at nearly one in the morning. And she had been polite enough to make love, or rather to allow him to make love to her. If nothing else, he had finally realised that it was over between them. But when had it happened…?
‘You’re lying,’ he said harshly. ‘And I want you to admit it.’
‘I will not get into that car with you.’
‘You will do as I say.’
The sheer arrogance of the man left Julia speechless. ‘How dare you speak to me like that?’
‘Get in the car! We haven’t finished talking!’
‘I refuse…’
‘Why?’ he mocked. ‘Do you imagine that your womanly assets aren’t safe with me? I told you, I don’t favour the sparrows.’ With which he yanked open the car door and waited for Julia to finally edge into the seat.
She hoped she left a huge, soaking, permanent stain on the cream leather.
‘Now,’ he said, turning to her once he was inside the car, ‘where do you live? I’m going to drop you back to your house and you’re going to explain yourself to me on the way. Then, and only then, do we part company, Miss Nash.’
In the ensuing silence Julia seemed to hear the flutter of her own heartbeat.
This was different from when they were in the wine bar, surrounded by people and noise. Locked in this car with him, she became frighteningly aware of his power and of something else: his potent sex appeal, something she had hidden from in the restaurant, choosing to concentrate her mind on the task at hand. The sparrow, she thought in panic, surely couldn’t be drawn to the eagle!
‘Well?’ he prompted with silky determination, and Julia stuttered out her address.
‘Not nervous, are you?’ He turned on the engine and smoothly began driving towards Hampstead. ‘I told you, your maidenly honour is safe with me. Unless…’ he appeared to give this some deep thought ‘…your fear has suddenly kick-started an attack of nerves. Is that it, Miss Nash? Are you afraid of being found out for the liar that you are?’
‘I’m not nervous, Mr Fabbrini,’ Julia lied. ‘I’m just amazed at your arrogance and your high-handedness. I’ve never encountered anyone like you in my life before!’
‘I’m flattered.’
‘Don’t be!’ she snapped back, her body pressed as far against the door as it was physically possible to be. She looked at his averted profile and shivered. Not a man to cross. Those had been Caroline’s words and Julia now had no problem in believing them.
‘So when did you decide to concoct your little scheme?’ he enquired with supreme politeness.
‘I haven’t concocted anything!’
Riccardo ignored the interruption. The girl was lying, of that he was convinced, and he would break her before the drive was over. Break her and return to his vastly energetic but essentially uncluttered life.
‘So…this so-called child of mine is…what did you say? Four? Five?’
‘Five,’ Julia said tightly, ‘and her name is Nicola.’
‘And not once did my beloved ex-wife choose to mention this little fact to me. Surprising, really, wouldn’t you say? Considering she always prided herself on her high morality?’
‘She thought it was for the best.’
Riccardo felt a pulse begin to beat steadily in his temple. Merely contemplating deception of that magnitude was enough to stir him. Just as well none of it was true. He slid a sideways glance at the slight creature sitting in the car, her body pushed against the car door in apprehension. So convincing, but so misguided. The most successful gold-diggers were the ones who hid their intent well.
The girl might not be a stunner, but she could act. She could act because she had brains, he considered. Which would make it doubly satisfying when she finally confessed all…
CHAPTER TWO
THE remainder of the drive was completed in uncomfortable silence. Rain slashed down against the window-panes, a harsh, clattering noise for which Julia was immensely grateful, because without that background din the silence between them would have been unbearable.
Towards the end she gave him terse directions to her house, which he followed without speaking.
By the time the sleek Jaguar pulled up in front of the three-storeyed red-brick Victorian house, her nerves were close to snapping. She pushed open the car door, almost before the car had drawn to a complete stop, and muttered a rapid thank-you for the lift. There was not much else she could thank him for. He had been insensitive, hostile and frankly insulting throughout those tortuous couple of hours in the wine bar. He had refused point blank to believe a word she had told him and had accused her of being a gold-digger.
Julia hurried up to her front door, the rain washing down on her as she fumbled in her bag for the wretched front-door key. She was only aware of his presence when he removed the key from her hands and shoved it into the lock smoothly.
‘I want you to tell me what you hoped to gain by spinning me that ridiculous, far-fetched story,’ he rasped, following her into the hall and slamming the door behind him.
Julia looked anxiously over her shoulder towards the staircase, which was shrouded in darkness.
And Riccardo, following her gaze, ground his teeth in intense irritation. She had clung to her fabrication like a drowning man clinging to a lifebelt and he was determined to hear her admit the truth. In fact, hearing her admit the truth had become a compulsion during the forty-minute drive to the house. If not, it would remain unfinished business, even if he never saw or heard from her again, and he was not a man interested in unfinished business.
‘I told you…’ Her voice was half-plea, half-resigned weariness. Both heated his simmering blood just a little bit more.
‘A lie! Caroline would never have kept such a thing from me, whatever her feelings.’
‘OK. If you want me to admit that I made up the whole thing then I admit it. All right? Happy?’
