Mistresses: Lethal Attraction. Katherine Garbera

warm. I’ll be in in a minute.’

      ‘Edoardo?’

      He straightened from where he was untying the tow-rope from the bumper bar and looked at her. ‘Yes?’

      She chewed at her lower lip for a moment. ‘I need some extra money,’ she said. ‘Would you be able to transfer five thousand into my account?’

      He frowned. ‘You don’t have a gambling problem, do you?’

      Her eyes widened in affront. ‘Of course not!’

      ‘What do you want it for?’

      Her expression became haughty. ‘I don’t see why I have to tell you what I spend my money on,’ she said.

      ‘You do while I’m still in control of it,’ he said.

      ‘My mother thinks you’re skimming off the profits to fund your own nest egg,’ she said with a hard little look.

      ‘And what do you think, Bella?’ he asked. ‘Do you think I’d stoop so low as to betray the trust your father placed in me?’

      She turned to go to the house. ‘I need the money as soon as possible.’

      ‘For your mother, I presume?’

      Her back stiffened, and after a tiny pause she turned back around to face him. ‘If it was your mother, what would you do?’ she asked.

      ‘You’re not helping her by propping her up all the time,’ he said. ‘She’s become dependent on you. You’ll have to wean her off or she’ll eventually drain you dry. It’s one of the reasons your father orchestrated things the way he did. He knew you would be too soft and generous. At least I can say no when it needs to be said.’

      ‘Did she ask you for money when she came the other day?’

      ‘Amongst other things.’

      Her brows moved together. ‘What other things?’

      ‘I’m not going to badmouth your mother to you,’ he said. ‘Suffice to say I’m not her favourite person in the world.’

      She nibbled at her lower lip. ‘I’m sorry if she offended you.’

      ‘I’ve got a thick skin,’ he said. ‘Now, go inside before yours is frozen solid.’

      She met his gaze again. ‘I didn’t mean what I said earlier, you know. I think you’re one of the most decent men I’ve ever met.’

      ‘The cold has got to you, hasn’t it?’ Edoardo said with a teasing half-smile.

      Her gaze fell away from his and he rolled up the tow-rope as he watched her walk towards the manor, her slim figure still encased in his jacket. It was so big on her it almost came to her knees. She looked like a child who had been playing in the dress-up box. He felt a funny tug inside his chest, as if a tiny stitch was being pulled against his heart.

      Once the door had closed behind her, he let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding. ‘Don’t even go there,’ he muttered under his breath and strode towards the barn.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      EDOARDO came into the kitchen an hour later to find Bella poring over a cookbook that belonged to Mrs Baker. She had an apron on over her clothes and there was a swipe of flour across her left cheek. She looked up as he came in. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I’m cooking dinner,’ she said. ‘I thought I should start to pull my weight around here since I can’t leave right now.’

      He hitched up one brow. ‘Can you cook?’

      She gave him a quelling look. ‘I’ve been taking lessons from one of my flatmates,’ she said. ‘She’s a sous chef in a restaurant in Soho.’

      ‘The one your ex-boyfriend owned?’

      She gave a little sigh as she looked at the ingredients in front of her. ‘I only went out with him a couple of times,’ she said. ‘The press made it out to be much more than it was. They always do that.’

      ‘I guess everyone wants to know what Britain’s most eligible girl is up to,’ he said.

      ‘I sometimes wish I didn’t come from such a wealthy background,’ she said with a little frown.

      Edoardo leaned against the counter. ‘You don’t mean that, surely?’ he said. ‘You lap it up. You always have. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you didn’t have loads of money.’

      ‘My friends’ mothers give them money or buy them stuff or take them shopping,’ she said, still frowning. ‘I’m tired of feeling responsible for my mother’s bills.’

      ‘You gave her the money?’

      ‘Yes, and she hasn’t even sent a text or called me to thank me.’ She let out a dispirited sigh. ‘She’s probably spent it all by now.’

      ‘I’ve been thinking about what I said earlier,’ he said. ‘It’s really none of my business who you give your money to. She’s your mother. I guess you can’t turn your back on her.’

      After a little silence she looked up at him with those big brown eyes of hers. ‘I wish I could be sure people liked me for me. How can I know if they like me because of who I am as a person? I don’t even know if my mother loves me or simply sees me as a meal ticket.’

      He reached forwards to brush the flour off her cheek with the end of his index finger. ‘Sorting out the friends from the hangers-on is always a challenge, even for a person without wealth. You just have to trust your gut feeling, I suppose.’

      Her shoulders went down as she sighed again. ‘I think what you said before was right: I want to be loved so much that it clouds my judgement.’

      ‘It’s not wrong to want to be loved,’ he said. ‘We wouldn’t be human if we didn’t.’

      She looked up at him again, her eyes soft and luminous. ‘Do you want to be loved?’

      Edoardo gave an off-hand shrug. Loving was something he didn’t do any more. He suspected he had forgotten how. He certainly wasn’t booking in any time soon for a refresher course either. ‘I can take it or leave it.’

      A little frown creased her forehead. ‘You can’t really mean that,’ she said. ‘You just don’t want to be let down again or abandoned.’

      He curled his lip, threatened by how close to the truth she was. He refused to let anyone close to him. Godfrey had been an exception, but it had taken years, and even then he hadn’t told him everything about his past. ‘Got me all figured out, have you, Bella?’

      ‘I think you push people away because you’re frightened of becoming too attached,’ she said. ‘You like to be in total control of your life. If you had feelings for someone else, they could take advantage of you. They could leave you just like your parents did.’

      Edoardo felt a ridge of steel ripple through his jaw until his teeth were locked so tightly together he wondered if he’d be left with nothing but powder.

      He thought of the first home he had been sent to after the authorities had stepped in when he’d been ten years old. He had already had five years of his stepfather’s capricious and cruel treatment. Five years of living in dread, quaking with fear night and day in case things turned nasty.

      The hands that had fed and clothed him, and at times even been kind to him, could turn within a blink of an eye into vicious weapons. It didn’t matter how well-behaved he was. Sometimes the anticipation of the brutality was so torturous he would deliberately play up just to get it over with. But even then he could never prepare himself. He’d had no way of knowing when his stepfather would strike. His body had run solely on adrenalin. The ‘flight or