Italian Attraction: The Italian Tycoon's Bride / An Italian Engagement / One Summer in Italy.... CATHERINE GEORGE

of the time.

      It didn’t help that Liliana had buttoned up about Blaine’s past love life either. Maisie was almost certain he’d warned the housekeeper to say nothing to her. She could be being paranoid here, but she didn’t think so. And she hadn’t imagined the reserve that was in his manner towards her now either. Obviously that kiss had been a complete nonentity as far as he was concerned. Which was fine, just fine, because she wasn’t on for a repeat either. It just rankled that she was clearly such a bad kisser that she’d put him off so completely, that was all. She didn’t have bad breath or buck teeth or weepy sores, so what was the problem?

      Blaine had taken Liliana to see Guiseppe on two occasions now and each time Maisie had made sure she was in bed when he’d returned the housekeeper to the villa late at night. She knew he always came in and had a nightcap with Liliana but she wasn’t about to hang around like little orphan Annie. Tonight was the third time and as Maisie finished her coffee she rose to her feet, the dogs all jumping up too. They knew the routine now. After-dinner snooze on the veranda and then this new human always walked down to the paddock before she went to bed.

      Maisie put the stable lights on when she reached the paddock. She had brought both horses into the stables from the paddock earlier because Iola hadn’t seemed quite right all day and she wondered if the mare was close to her time. She had telephoned Jenny’s vet for advice but he’d been unconcerned, merely telling her to keep an eye on the mare and call him if there was a problem. But Iola was young and healthy, he’d said, and he would expect the foaling to take place without him having to attend. Which was all very well in the normal run of things, Maisie thought, but when she was in sole charge of the beautiful and very expensive animal …

      The stables were relatively new and luxurious by any standards; apparently the old ones had been knocked down and replaced a couple of years ago. Maisie had put the mare in one of the well-lit loose boxes with an empty one between her and Iorwerth, and she was glad of this when she saw the graceful animal straining and paddling her limbs. She had attended several foalings in her days as a veterinary nurse and she sensed immediately that something was wrong.

      She ran back to the house and called the vet’s number again. The mare’s efforts were producing nothing; there were no little hooves protruding from the vulva, which could mean a malpresentation, possibly a breech. This wasn’t such a problem in a cow, but the vets she had worked with had always bemoaned the tremendous length of the foal’s legs in such cases.

      This time when she spoke to Jenny’s vet he listened and was at the house within fifteen minutes. By the time Blaine brought Liliana home and came down to the stables, Maisie was doing what she could to assist the vet in what was indeed a breech delivery. She knew as well as he did that foals sometimes didn’t survive in such cases and she was praying like mad this wouldn’t happen here.

      After ascertaining the situation, Blaine stood quietly by and watched proceedings and, for once, tied up in the fight for the foal’s life, Maisie was practically oblivious to his presence. It was half an hour before the vet managed to bring the tiny animal’s legs round and move it into the correct position for birth and immediately Iola sensed the obstruction was gone. She gave a great heave and the foal shot out on to the thick bed of straw Maisie had prepared, jerking convulsively and very much alive. In the next few moments it was shaking its head and snorting out the placental fluid it had inhaled, Iola seemingly forgetting all her pain and displaying a fond interest in her baby.

      ‘Whew.’ Maisie knelt back on the straw and beamed up at the vet. ‘Thank you so much, Mr Rossellini.’

      ‘No, thank you, signorina. Time was of the essence and you did not delay.’ He turned to Blaine as he wiped his hands with the towel Maisie had passed him as he added, ‘Your mother has much to thank this young lady for. She is a capable young woman.’

      ‘I’m aware of that.’ Blaine smiled at her, his eyes warm.

      ‘If ever you want a job, signorina, you come and see me, sì?’ Mr Rossellini bobbed his head at her. ‘I mean this.’

      ‘Thank you.’ Maisie had been in all kinds of awkward positions as she had helped the vet with the birth and now she found it hard to stand. Iola was nuzzling the foal, clearly delighted with what she’d accomplished, and Maisie stroked the soft muzzle as she murmured, ‘You’re a clever girl and you have a beautiful baby. Iorwerth is going to be delighted with his son.’

      Blaine accompanied Mr Rossellini back to the house and Maisie let the two men go, content to stay with the new mother and her foal for a while. Iorwerth had been stamping about his box, clearly disturbed, but like the intuitive beast he was he now seemed to know all was well and was blowing gently down his nose. Maisie went over and talked to him for a while, reassuring him, before she returned to Iola and her baby. She stood leaning against the box, captivated by the sight of the mother and foal, the fragrance of the straw and the soft sounds from the horses magical after all the panic and worry of the last hour or so.

      How long she stood there she didn’t know, but when she felt a pair of strong hands on her shoulders and Blaine’s voice in her ear murmuring, ‘There’s not a more beautiful sight, is there?’ she knew she’d been expecting he would return. ‘Mr Rossellini is full of admiration for your ability,’ he continued, ‘as am I. You were so calm and capable.’

      He wouldn’t think she was calm if he knew how her heart was beating like a tom-tom against her ribs. ‘It’s my job.’ She tried to ignore the tingles radiating down from her shoulders. ‘It’s what I’ve been trained for.’

      ‘Still …’ He turned her round, tilting her chin. ‘You were perfect. You are perfect.’

      If she had just ducked away at that point, made some excuse, anything, she might still have been all right. As it was, she waited for his kiss and when it came she kissed him back. There were a hundred reasons not to and she didn’t care about any of them.

      They stood locked together, swaying slightly, and as she felt the heady rush of sensation sending needles of pleasure into every nerve and sinew, she wondered what he had that made him so darn good at this. But it didn’t matter what it was; it was enough that he was kissing her.

      Blaine was breathing hard as his mouth continued to move on hers, tasting her, fuelling and feeding on the reaction he was causing. His hands moved up and down her body and she trembled at his touch, shifting in his arms so that she could lift her hands to his shoulders and press more closely against the long hard length of him.

      She could feel his heart pounding against his chest like a sledgehammer and it was incredibly exhilarating to know she could arouse such desire in him. His thighs were hard against hers as he moved her against the stable wall, his kiss deepening into what was almost a consummation in itself as his tongue took vanquished territory.

      It was Liliana’s voice that broke into the madness which had taken hold, but even as it registered and she felt him stiffen it was still another sweet moment or two before he raised his head and drew away. She felt his going in every nerve in her body. ‘Liliana,’ he muttered hoarsely. ‘She’s fixing sandwiches and a hot drink.’

      ‘Right.’ She knew her voice was as bemused as his. ‘We’d better go then.’

      ‘Maisie …’ Her name was a caress on his tongue. ‘You are driving me mad. I sit at my desk and I see you in front of me, I talk to my staff and your face is there. What have you done to me?’

      ‘I don’t know.’ She shivered, under such a strong spell of sensual desire all self-protection had broken down. ‘But, whatever it is, I feel the same.’

      The last was almost in the form of a plaintive protest and whether it was that which gave him the strength to straighten and put a few inches between them she didn’t know. He stared at her, his eyes glittering and almost opaque in the strong lights in the stable as he said, ‘This is wrong. I am taking advantage of you when you are at your most vulnerable. This man, your fiancé, has hurt you and taken away your self-esteem. You need to prove to yourself that you are still desirable.’

      No, no