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He had a fatal weakness for long-legged glamorous blondes, and the looks and the money to attract them if not to hold them. He didn't like clubbing or parties. He lived for his horses.
'Zia's been invited to a party and I offered to stay and help,' Darcy told him. 'I'll be a while, so you're on your own unless you care to ring Karen.'
'Pity she's not a blonde,' Richard lamented, stuck like a record in a groove. He' pulled a whisky bottle out of a capacious pocket. 'None of the women I like are blonde...'
'Doesn't that tell you something?'
'I wish I'd done the decent thing and married you. I probably would've been quite happy,'
'Richard...' Darcy drew in a deep, restraining breath, reminded that she had yet to tell Richard that she was cur¬rently in possession of a husband. 'Why don't you put the booze away and go down to the lodge and keep Karen company?'
'I'm not telling her I've been dumped again...she'd laugh!'
Darcy called Karen before she went out. 'Richard's here,' she announced. 'He's been dumped.'
Karen howled with laughter.
'I thought I'd let you get that out of your system before you see him in the flesh.'
It was almost seven by the time Darcy arrived home. After all the excitement at the party, Zia was exhausted and ready only for bed. Richard was in a maudlin slump in the kitchen. Darcy surveyed the sunken level on the whisky bottle in dismay. 'You're feeling that bad?'
'Worsh,' Richard groaned, opening only one bloodshot eye.
Pity and irritation mingled inside Darcy. She, too, was miserable. Some decent conversation might have cheered her up, but Richard was drunk as a skunk. And, since he had never behaved like that before, she couldn't even rea¬sonably shout at him.
She took Zia upstairs, gave her a quick bath, tucked her into her bed started to read her a story, but Zia fell asleep in the middle of it. Her eyes filled with guilt and love, Darcy smoothed her daughter's dark curls tenderly from her brow and sighed. She owed it to Zia to tell Luca the truth.
With a steely glint in her gaze, Darcy went back down¬stairs to sort out Richard. Since he'd chosen to get legless in her absence, he could jolly well go and sleep it off.
'Time for bed, Richard,' she announced loudly. 'Get up!'
He lumbered upright in slow and very shaky motion. 'Ish still light...' he muttered in bewilderment.
'So?' Darcy pushed him towards the stairs. 'You're lucky Karen's not here...you know how she feels about alcohol after her experiences with her ex.'
Richard looked terrified. 'Not coming, ish she?'
Reflecting on the awkwardness of having two close friends who occasionally mixed like oil and water, she guided him into the room beside her own, which she had once promised Luca. Richard lurched down onto the mat¬tress like a falling tree.
'Met your hushband...when did you get a hushband?' Richard contrived to slur, with only academic interest.
In the act of throwing a blanket over his prone body Darcy stilled, not crediting what she was hearing. 'My hus¬band?' she queried sharply.
Grabbing her hand, Richard tugged her closer and whis¬pered confidentially, 'Not a friendly chap...tried to hit me...would've punched my lights out if I hadn't fallen over...'
He was rambling, out of his skull, hallucinating. He had to be.
'Now isn't this cosy?' A dark sardonic drawl breathed at that exact same moment from the doorway.
Darcy got such a shock she almost leapt a foot in the air. An incredulous look on her face, she wrenched herself free of Richard and whipped round. 'Where did you come from?' she gasped, totally appalled and showing it. 'I've been home over an hour!'
'Since you were out, I went for a drive,' Luca divulged grimly.
And she looked awful, she reflected in anguish. Before bathing Zia she had sensibly changed into a faded summer dress. Had she known Luca was coming, she would have dressed up—not because she wished to attract him, but be¬cause she didn't want him thinking, Gosh, what a mess she is. What did I ever see in her? She had her pride and now it was in the dust.
Luca, clad in yet another of his breathtakingly elegant suits, looked absolutely stupendous. Navy suit, white shirt with fine red stripes, red silk tie. Smart enough to stroll out in front of television cameras. Slowly, very slowly, she al¬lowed her intimidated gaze to rise above his shirt collar. Jawline aggressive. Beautiful mouth grim. Spectacular cheekbones harshly prominent and flushed. Sensational eyes blazing like gold daggers locking into a target.
Her mouth ran dry, her heart skipping a beat.
The very image of masculine outrage, Luca continued to stare at her, the sheer force of his will beating down on her. 'Carlton is not staying the night here!'
Richard opened his eyes. "Thash him,' he said helpfully. 'Speaksh Italian like a native...'
'Oh, do shut up and go to sleep, Richard,' Darcy mut¬tered unevenly.
