Sam pointed out.
The twins, though poles apart personality-wise, had always been very alike in looks. And now that Jonny had given up surfing competitively to run first one and then several more stores across the country selling surf gear, his sun-bleached blond hair had darkened to the same honey-brown as his sister’s, so the likeness between the siblings was even more pronounced.
‘What’s up, Sam…?’
‘Up?’
‘You sound…I don’t know…’ He studied her profile. ‘Cranky,’ he decided.
‘I was just thinking about your brother-in-law.’
‘Alessandro!’ Jonny’s eyes automatically sought out the tall figure standing across the room. Their eyes connected and Jonny smiled tensely before looking away. He never had been able to rid himself of the feeling that the older man could read his mind…always an uncomfortable experience, but with the cheque burning a hole in his pocket at that moment particularly so.
She nodded. ‘He may have a perfect face, but his manners could do with some major work.’ Seeing Jonny’s brows lift at the spitting vehemence of her declaration, Sam cautioned herself to downplay her dislike. ‘You have to admit,’ she challenged in a milder tone, ‘he makes no effort whatsoever.’
‘Effort to do what?’
She pursed her lips into a disapproving line. ‘Mingle.’
‘Mingle!’ Jonny echoed, and laughed.
‘He always gives the impression that he’s looking down his nose at me…at everyone…but then I suppose he thinks he doesn’t need to be polite to ordinary people like us,’ she observed contemptuously.
Jonny gave a shrug, still looking amused. ‘Oh, you know Alessandro.’
For once Sam found Jonny’s laid-back attitude irritating. ‘Happily, no, I don’t. We don’t exactly move in the same circles.’
‘He’s actually a pretty private person, Sam, and with the paparazzi on his case all the time, sniffing for a scandal, you can’t really blame him for being a bit cautious.’
‘He’s not cautious. He’s stuck up and snobbish. Still, at least he’s safe from the paparazzi today.’ Nobody was going to expect to see Alessandro Di Livio at a christening in a Cornish seaside village.
Jonny looked at her curiously. ‘God, you really don’t like him, do you, Sam?’
‘He doesn’t like me,’ she countered.
Jonny looked startled by the suggestion. ‘Oh, I doubt that.’ His eyes moved from her bright copper head and slid over her trim but slight figure. ‘He’s probably not even noticed you, Sam.’
From his expression it was obvious that Jonny thought she’d be pleased to realise that she was actually too insignificant even to register on Alessandro Di Livio’s radar.
Sam forced a smile. ‘You mean I’m mistaking indifference for rudeness?’
The ironic inflection in her voice sailed over Jonny’s head. ‘He can be a bit stand-offish,’ he admitted. ‘And he’s not a great talker—at least not with me. But then he still thinks I’m not good enough for Kat.’ He lowered his voice and recalled, ‘You know, the night we told him we’d got married I was expecting an explosion, but the guy didn’t turn a hair. Then later, when Kat wasn’t in the room, he told me that if I ever hurt her he would make me wish I’d never been born.’ The recollection made him shudder.
‘He threatened you?’ Sam bristled with indignation. The man was nothing but a thug!
‘It was more in the nature of a promise.’
‘I hope you told him where he could put his threats.’
Jonny looked amused. ‘Yeah, that’s really likely.’
‘You have to stand up to bullies,’ Sam contended angrily.
‘He wasn’t being a bully, he was looking out for his sister—and I don’t really blame him. He’s been fine with me since, but I’ve never forgotten, and he…’ Jonny shrugged. ‘Alessandro doesn’t forget anything,’ he admitted.
‘Well, I think you and Kat were made for each other!’ Sam declared, meaning it.
It should have been easy to dislike Kat. She had it all—pots of money, beauty and Jonny. But it wasn’t! It was impossible not to like Jonny’s wife, who was as warm, spontaneous and sweet-natured as her brother was revolting, cold and conceited.
‘But he’s right.’ Jonny sighed gloomily. ‘I’m not good enough for her.’
‘Rubbish. Since when is Alessandro Di Livio the expert on relationships? The only person he’s likely to form a loving and long relationship with is his own reflection!’
Jonny chuckled. ‘Don’t let Kat hear you say that,’ he warned, flashing a guilty look towards his wife. ‘As far as she is concerned, Alessandro can do no wrong. But then,’ he added, a note of defence creeping into his voice, ‘he did virtually bring her up single-handed after their parents were killed in that crash.’
Sam felt a cold shiver running down her spine and gave the baby a sudden hug, closing her eyes and burying her face deeper in the comforting warmth of her sweet-smelling soft hair.
The crash Jonny referred to had killed two members of the famous aristocratic Italian family and left a third fighting for his life. It must have had saturation media coverage at the time, but Sam, who had only been in her teens, had only a vague recollection of the story. Coincidentally, she had caught a TV programme only the previous night, in which it had featured prominently.
In asking Are Some People Born Lucky?, the programme-makers had presented a pretty compelling argument that some people did lead a charmed existence, surviving situations which logically they should not have.
The programme had made compulsive viewing, but it had had the sort of voyeuristic qualities that made Sam feel uncomfortable. She had been about to vote with her feet and switch off when a computer simulation had shown the route the Di Livio car had taken when it had gone over the cliffedge, and she had literally held her breath as she watched the action replay.
Sam hadn’t been surprised to hear emergency workers comment that it had been the first time they had ever taken anyone out of a wreck alive on that treacherous mountainside.
When the commentator’s voice had posed in thrilling accents the question ‘Was this man born lucky?’ the screen had been filled with the image of a young-looking Alessandro, his dark hair whitened with dust, his bruised face leeched of all colour, strapped to a stretcher about to be air lifted away from the twisted, mangled remains of the car.
Sam had then switched off the TV and muttered angrily to the cat, ‘Lucky? Very lucky, if your version of lucky happens to involve nearly dying and losing both your parents…Idiots!’
She had caught sight of her scowling reflection in the mirror and stopped dead, her eyes widening. I’m getting all protective and indignant on behalf of Alessandro Di Livio…now,
