In The Count's Bed: The Count's Blackmail Bargain / The French Count's Pregnant Bride / The Italian Count's Baby. Catherine Spencer

to bring you tea?’

      Her mind had gone into overdrive, and she had to drag herself back to the present moment. ‘Oh—coffee would be fine.’

      She took the cup he brought her with a murmur of thanks.

      ‘You seem a little upset,’ he commented as he resumed his seat. ‘May I know the problem?’

      ‘It’s nothing, really.’ She bit her lip. ‘Just that I feel a bit useless and in the way with Paolo being ill.’ She tried to smile. ‘I shan’t know what to do with myself.’

      ‘Then I suggest you relax.’ He pointed to the steps. ‘They lead down to the swimming pool, a pleasant place to sunbathe—and dream about the future, perhaps.’

      He smiled at her. ‘And try not to worry too much about Paolo,’ he advised lightly. ‘He has about six colds a year. You will have plenty of opportunity to nurse him, I promise.’

      She put down her cup, staring at him suspiciously. ‘You’re making fun of me.’

      ‘Well, a little, perhaps.’ The smile widened into a grin. ‘Teasing you is almost irresistible, believe me.’

      He pushed away his plate and sat back in his chair, regarding her. ‘But allow me to make amends. I have to go out presently on a matter of business in the village. But if you came with me, we could combine it with pleasure by driving on to Assisi. There is much to see there, and a good restaurant where we can have lunch. Would you like that?’

      There was a tingling silence. Laura’s look of uncertainty deepened.

      She said, ‘You—you’re offering to take me to Assisi.’ To her discomfiture, she felt herself beginning to blush. ‘That—that’s very kind of you, signore, and I—I’m grateful. But I couldn’t put you to all that trouble—not possibly.’

      ‘But it would be no trouble,’ he said. ‘Al contrario, I would find it delightful.’ He paused deliberately. ‘But I notice that you still have a problem calling me by my given name, so perhaps you feel you cannot yet trust me enough to spend a day alone with me.’

      Or perhaps it is yourself you do not trust, bella mia, he added silently, watching the colour flare in her face. And if so—you are mine.

      ‘N-no,’ she stammered. ‘Oh, no. It’s not that—not that at all.’ She cast around frantically for an excuse—any excuse. ‘You see—it’s Paolo. The Assisi trip was his idea, and maybe I should wait until he’s better, and we can go together. I—I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Can you understand that?’

      ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I understand perfectly, believe me.’ More than you think or wish, my sweet one, he added under his breath.

      He sighed with mock reproach. ‘However, I am distressed that my shattered hopes do not concern you. Now that is cruel. But if I cannot persuade you, so be it.’

      And when the time comes, he thought as he pushed back his chair and rose to his feet, some day—some night soon—then I will make you come to me. Because you are going to want me so much that you will offer yourself, my shy, lovely girl. Make no mistake about that. And I will take everything you have to give, and more.

      Aloud, he said, ‘Arriverderci, Laura.’ His smile was pleasant—even slightly impersonal as he looked down at her. ‘Enjoy your solitude while you can,’ he added softly.

      And he walked away, humming gently under his breath, while Laura stared after him, still floundering in her own confusion.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      LAURA finished applying sun lotion to her arms and legs, and lay back in the shade of the big striped umbrella with a little sigh of contentment. Contrary to her own expectations, she was enjoying her solitude. The pool area occupied an extended hollow at the foot of the gardens, offering a welcome haven of tranquillity, with its marble tiles surrounding a large rectangle of turquoise water, and overlooked by terraced banks of flowering shrubs.

      It was sheltered and very private, and, apart from birdsong and the hum of insects, it was also wonderfully quiet.

      She put on her sunglasses and applied herself to taking an intelligent interest in her book, but the heroine’s ill-starred attempts to pursue entirely the wrong man struggled to hold her attention, and at last she put the thing down, sighing impatiently.

      In view of her current circumstances, it wasn’t the ideal plot to engage her, she thought ruefully. In fact, War and Peace might have been a more appropriate choice. Especially as she’d just been totally routed by the enemy.

      She’d managed to waylay a harassed Emilia, asking politely if she’d find out when it would be convenient for her to visit Paolo. But the reply conveyed back from the Signora was unequivocal. Paolo had a high fever but was now sleeping, so could not be disturbed.

      If I were genuinely in love with him, I’d be chewing my nails to the quick by now, Laura thought indignantly.

      But it was clear she had to start practising patience, and hope that, when his temperature eventually went down, Paolo would demand to see her instead.

      She sighed. God, what a situation to be in, and all her own stupid doing, too. Why hadn’t she remembered there was no such thing as a free lunch?

      But the deep indolent heat was already soothing her, encouraging her to close her eyes and relax. Reminding her that it was pointless to fret, because, for the time being at least, she was no longer in control of her own destiny.

      Che sera, sera, she thought drowsily, removing her sunglasses and nestling further into the soft cushions of the lounger. Whatever will be, will be. Isn’t that what they say? So I may as well go with the flow. Especially as I don’t seem to have much of a choice.

      She closed her eyes. Oh, Paolo. She sent the silent plea winging passionately to the villa. For heaven’s sake get well quickly, and get me out of here.

      Alessio parked the Jeep in front of the house, and swung himself out of the driving seat. He needed, he thought as he strode indoors, a long cold drink, and a swim.

      What he did not require was the sudden appearance of his aunt, as if she’d been lying in wait for him.

      ‘Where have you been?’ she demanded, and he checked resignedly.

      ‘Down to the village. Luca Donini asked me to talk to his father—persuade him not to spend another winter in that hut of his.’

      ‘He asked you?’ Her brows lifted haughtily. ‘But how can this concern you? Sometimes, Alessio, I think you forget your position.’

      He gave her a long, hard look. ‘Yes, Zia Lucrezia,’ he drawled. ‘Sometimes, I do, as the events of the past few weeks have unhappily proved. But Besavoro is my village, and the concerns of my friends there are mine too.’

      She snorted impatiently. ‘You did not take the girl with you?’

      He shrugged. ‘I invited her, but she refused me.’

      She glared at him. ‘That is bad. You cannot be trying.’

      ‘No,’ he said. ‘It is better than I expected after such a short time.’ His smile was cold. ‘But do not ask me to explain.’

      She changed tack. ‘You should have told me you were going to the village. You could have gone to the pharmacy for my poor boy. Last night he was delirious—talking nonsense in his sleep.’

      ‘It is probably a habit of his,’ Alessio commented curtly. ‘Why not ask his innamorata?’

      She gave him a furious look, and swept back to her nursing duties.

      Alessio proceeded moodily to his room. The jibe had been almost irresistible, but he regretted it. There’d been no need to remind himself that Laura and Paolo had been enjoying an intimate relationship prior to their arrival in Italy. Because