Julie followed him into his office.
He moved behind a desk the size of a lake, and sat.
‘Close the door and have a seat,’ he said in a low tone that edged into a growl.
Julie was in her late thirties, smart, slim, blonde and wore a black two-piece linen and silk suit. She was happily married with two children in junior school and a baby girl. She was clever, organised and thorough and one hundred per cent professional. If she’d felt usurped by Elena’s arrival on the scene with Jacob Del Garda, she didn’t show it and from what Nico had observed, Julie had been nothing but courteous and helpful.
And Nico trusted her to tell him the truth.
‘How do you find Elena? And does she refer to me as
Nicolo
?’
Julie didn’t hesitate.
‘She’s a prima donna who does as little as possible. Likes to cause trouble among the female staff. Has the hots for you and calls you
Nicolo
behind your back.’
‘And you didn’t think to mention this to me?’
Julie didn’t blink at the sharp tone.
‘If you hadn’t called me in today I was going to make an appointment to see you. I wanted to give her a chance, to be fair. But I know she didn’t put a call through to you from Bronte yesterday. By the time you were out of your meeting I was in one of my own and missed the opportunity to tell you. I was going to call you from home, but the kids had after school activities. It was late by the time I sat down and I thought it would keep until today.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘She’s a spider.’
‘Want your job back?’
‘That would be nice.’
‘I want you to sit in on this.’
Ten minutes later, Jacob Del Garda and Elena arrived.
She wore a light wool suit in baby pink that showcased her spectacular colouring, the amazing body. The ice-pick heels on her slim feet were in a nude colour of expensive Italian leather. Her fingernails were painted the exact shade as her suit.
And those big dark eyes took a hungry stroll over him as if he was a piece of prime steak.
The way she licked her lips made Nico realise he’d seriously underestimated the level of her attraction to him. He’d dealt with her kind many times before. And knew better than to bring a predator into his environment, his life. Maybe marriage to Bronte had made him soft in the head, because he should have got rid of Elena as soon as she’d made a move.
Lesson learned.
He waited until they were seated.
Face hard and unsmiling, his eyes stayed on Elena’s in a way that made her frown.
Good.
‘Did you receive a telephone call from my wife yesterday afternoon?’
At his tone Jacob gave him a sharp look, but turned to his personal assistant.
She looked blank for a couple of seconds, gave a tiny shrug as if to say,
What’s the big deal?
And right there he recognised contempt and something else, something more than dislike for Bronte.
But she gave him big eyes Bambi would have been proud of.
It was an Oscar winning performance.
‘You were in a meeting,’ she responded, her voice throaty, smoky.
Dark eyes stayed on his and she blinked slowly once, twice.
Without taking his eyes from hers Nico spoke to Julie,
‘Julie, when you did the handover to Elena, did you make it clear that when my wife needs to speak to me I am to be disturbed.’
‘Yes.’
‘The meeting was important. I made an executive decision,’ Elena interrupted in an irritated tone.
She was going to argue.
Excellent.
Jacob crossed his legs, folded his arms.
‘You are not an executive,’ Nico told her in a deadly voice. ‘You are an administrator in my hotel. This is my playground, my rules.’
Now Elena turned to Jacob and gave him a,
Can you believe this?
look.
Jacob opened his mouth and Nico simply gave him a pointed finger.
‘Ms Rocas, when you were speaking to my wife, did you refer to me as
Nicolo
? Therefore implying a close personal relationship?’
Now Jacob’s brows snapped together.
A flush rose over Elena’s dusky cheekbones.
Those dark eyes lost the slumberous sexy look and went sharp now.
‘It was a term of... I think the English call it... endearment. It meant nothing,’ she said, her Spanish accent stronger.
Oh she was good Nico thought.
Her English was excellent and everyone in the room knew it.
Time to cut through the crap.
‘Have you any idea who my wife is?’
A shrug, a little pout of the mouth and the puzzlement was back in her eyes.
‘She is a little English girl married to a very wealthy older man.’
Julie’s eyes went like saucers.
Nico sat forward his eyes dead on hers.
‘She was born and brought up in this house, Ludlow Hall. She is a lady. She is held in great affection by all who work here, by all who live in the surrounding area. And she married a man who as a boy lived on the streets of Rome, lived by his wits. She has a big heart. And she loves me with every single beat of that heart. And I love her. I made it crystal clear that I am not interested in you, Ms Rocas. Not even for sex.’
Now Jacob’s brows rose.
Nico’s eyes met his.
‘Are you having intimate relations with your personal assistant
Senor
Del Garda?’
‘No.’
‘Have you ever had intimate relations with your personal assistant?’
‘No.’
‘Okay.’ Now he looked at Elena. ‘Your position is a trusted one. You have shown disrespect to me, to my wife and to your position. I understand you refer to me as
Nicolo
to the staff and guests. Is that correct?’
Now Elena went bone white.
She was finished and she knew it.
‘I apologise if that upset you. I want the guests to feel that we are as a family, to feel comfortable and welcome at Ludlow Hall.’
Bullshit.
‘Let me give you a word of advice. Wherever and whomever you work for in the future, always refer to your employer as Mr. or Ms. If you’d referred to me as Mr. Ferranti and done as you were told, you might still have a role here. As it is, I want you gone. You have half an hour to pack. A taxi will take you to the airport. It will be up to Jacob to find you a role within his company, but you are finished in mine.’
She rose a little unsteady on her feet and Nico was glad to see it.
Perhaps she’d learned a lesson.
Looking absolutely furious with her, Jacob stood.
After showing the woman out, Julie closed the door and returned to her seat.
Nico turned to Jacob.
‘You can deal with her contract issues. I’m taking a few hours of personal time today,’ he told him. ‘Julie has my contact details. Anything urgent will have to wait until I return.’
‘
Si
, no problem.’ He stood. ‘Apologise to Bronte for me.’
Nico nodded.
His wife had been unwell this morning and they were attending a doctor’s appointment in an hour.
As the door closed behind Jacob, Nico turned to Julie.
‘Okay?’
She gave him wide eyes.
‘Remind me never to call you,
Nicolo
.’
He couldn’t help but grin at her cheek.
‘Nip it in the bud if you hear it among the staff.’
‘Will do.’
She stood, but he held up a finger.
‘Ahh, could you get me the owner of our plumbing contractor on the phone?’
‘Sure. Problems?’
‘One of his sons insisted on cash yesterday to come to The Dower House to fix an emergency.’
She shook her head in disgust.
‘I’ll put him through.’
By the time Nico was finished with the plumber, a bouquet of flowers was on its way to Bronte. One more cock-up like yesterday and they’d lose the contract for Ludlow Hall.
Next on his hit list was his wife.
And he couldn’t help the little tickle of anxiety in his gut.
Something was wrong with Bronte.
She’d been too pale, too fragile, this morning.
Chapter Twenty Two
Later a stunned Nico and Bronte sat in front of their general practitioner.
Nico held his wife’s hand tight in his.
‘But, how did this happen?’ Bronte asked in a bemused voice.
Dr. Jennifer Cameron simply beamed.
‘You’re not on birth control. Exactly the same way you got pregnant the first time. Isn’t Mother Nature a wonderful thing?’
‘But the endometriosis... and I’ve been bleeding a little. How is this possible?’
‘We’ll send you for a scan. But I guess from my examination you’re about ten weeks, which accounts for the emotional rollercoaster and the tiredness. Intermittent bleeding isn’t unusual. You suffered with spotting the first time. But we need to make sure everything’s as it should be. A scan will tell us more. And if there’s more than one. Having twins the first time ups the odds of twins again. Congratulations.’
Two hours later they sat in their car in the car park of the private hospital and simply gazed at the amazing 3D scan photo of their baby.
Bronte was eleven weeks pregnant and everything looked good. And there was only one, thank goodness.
They’d never expected to have more children.
Bronte sniffed, mopping her eyes she grinned into Nico’s happy face.
‘Who’s a clever daddy?’
‘Why did I not see it? The mood swings, the tiredness?’
‘Why didn’t I?’
‘You need to take it easy. I will cut back my hours at The Hall.’
‘Rosie will be back in a few weeks. Omigod, she’s going to go mental.’
‘So will your brother.’
‘So will yours.’ Then her eyes went wide. ‘My father’s going to dance a jig.’
‘We will call them when we get home.’
Now she frowned. ‘I had wine last night.’
He blinked, shook his head.
‘You had half a glass and didn’t finish it. No more for you.’
She placed the palm of her hand on his strong jaw, turned his face to her.
His shocked delight was plain to see.
God she loved him so much.
‘We’re going to have a baby,’ she whispered.
‘
Si,
I am very potent,’ he growled, wiggled his brows. ‘I am Italian.’
Chapter Twenty Three
The next morning found Coco up before dawn.
She’d had a hellish night with dreams of her father, of stomach churning remorse, bubbling and brewing with erotic dreams of Rafe. The lethal combination left her jittery and nervy. She needed space to think, to breathe, to be on her own and to find her balance again.
No matter how hard she tried to be independent, to march to the beat of her own drum, she was always dragged back to her family. Intellectually she knew what had happened to her father was not her fault. She wasn’t accountable for the actions of Sergei Kandinsky.
However, she was responsible for bringing herself and her family to his attention. But how could she abandon Olivia and her baby to a monster?
If only her father would give her a chance to show him what she could do. He called her his princess and she hated his term of endearment with a passion. Why didn’t he understand her? Why was he so over the top and too protective?
Unplugging the satellite phone from its charger she placed it in her backpack. Adding water and apples, she stuffed in swimwear, a towel and unpacked a new bottle of suntan lotion.
Dressing quickly in shorts, a T-shirt, Coco laced up her hiking boots.
Then remembered to leave Rafe a note.
With a quick hand she wrote:
Rafe. Gone for a hike in the hills around Ludlow Hall to clear my head. Will see you later.
Signed, Coco.
She shrugged on her backpack, left the room and tiptoed downstairs.
Stepping through the French windows of the kitchen, dawn’s early light rose on the horizon.
With a steady rhythm she strode through the morning mists swirling around her ankles, heading towards the rising sun.
For the first time in twenty-four hours she smiled and her heart lifted.
Freedom.
The curl of anxiety in her belly along with the ache in the region of her heart reminded her that running away from Rafe never worked.
She could go to the moon and her complex feelings for him would still be right there with her. Perhaps the time had come for her to let go of childish things.
God knew her dreams as an adolescent with Rafe playing the starring role had been idiotic at best. But they’d also been honest, sexually raw and too overwhelming for her to handle.
The memories of the old Coco’s self-absorption, of how the whole universe had rotated around her wants and needs made her crimson with self-disgust today.
She’s been a spoilt, demanding child who needed to grow up and get a life – that’s what Rafe had told her ten years ago and he’d been right.
An hour later, thigh muscles burning from the steep climb, she reached her destination.
Her medics had told her exercise was important as long as she didn’t exhaust herself. She knew the slight tightness in her chest would ease and took a deep cleansing breath.
The high spot in the hills with its panoramic views of the surrounding dips and valleys had her take another inhale and simply enjoy the moment.
A whipping wind rolled away low clouds, revealing a glorious sky of such a sparkling blue it hurt the eye.
How could she take pleasure in the scene when her life was such a complete and utter disaster?
She stopped to rest near a rock pool.
The water, gin clear, was fed by a spring and exactly as she remembered it.
With a grunt she dropped her pack, crouched, poking around for the fruit and water.
Crunching on an apple Coco hauled out the satellite phone.
Since a sat phone didn’t work indoors and needs a clear sky, she made sure the antenna was firmly seated in its socket, rotated it to a 45-degree angle and heard the click. Then she pulled the end to fully extend the antenna and released the button. She powered on the phone and waited for the device to register with the satellite. When she read the signal, she keyed in the number for Louise.