Page 15 of Second Marriage

'And your mother—she thinks you are horrid?'

He was laughing now, and she laughed back as she said, 'Sometimes—yes, definitely sometimes. Or at least I could be. Like the time I tricked my brothers into the cellar because they had been teasing me and wouldn't tell anyone where I had put the key. My father had to break the door down in the end.'

'This is dreadful. I cannot believe it.'

Lorenzo had joined them now, the race forgotten in this interesting conversation. 'What else? What else did you used to do, Claire?' he asked eagerly.

'Oh, I was a little monster.' She told them one story after another, and after a few minutes their combined laughter was resounding round the pool, the three of them holding each other up amid much splashing and hilarity, so it was all the more of a shock when a deep, cold voice cut into the moment with a biting severity that brought their heads swinging round as though at­tached by the same wire.

'Claire? You are wanted.'

'Romano.' It was only Lorenzo and Attilio's support that stopped her sinking like a dead weight as she saw the big, powerful figure at the far end of the pool, the sunlight behind him throwing the dark face into shadow. 'Is anything wrong?' she asked quickly.

'Grace is not feeling well.' He didn't actually say it was her fault, but he might as well have. 'I think it would be better if you stopped your romping and came back to the house, you understand?' he said grimly.

'Of course I understand,' she bit back sharply, shrug­ging off Lorenzo's and Attilio's hands and making im­mediately for the side with strong, urgent strokes, her heart thudding.

Romano was holding her robe as she reached him, and as he bent down and reached out his hand to pull her out of the pool she saw his face was as black as thunder, his eyes glittering like polished steel as they sliced into her. 'I thought you had come to Italy to be Grace's com­panion, her friend,' he said tightly. 'Not to play the fool.'

'I beg your pardon?' She refused his hand, pulling herself up by her own efforts and managing to get out in one quite graceful movement, something that regis­tered with satisfaction even through the worry for Grace and the burning hot rage at Romano. 'What did you just say?' she hissed furiously, snatching the robe from him and pulling the belt tight once she had slipped into the thick towelling folds.

'That you are needed back at the house.' He had stepped back a pace, and the metamorphosis she had witnessed several times before had taken place—the cold, handsome face quite expressionless now, the eb­ony-black eyes narrowed and still as they surveyed her hot face.

'I don't mean that and you know it.' She glared at him angrily while keeping her voice low because of Lorenzo. 'How dare you—?'

'Claire?' As she turned Attilio was making his way across the pool with Lorenzo at his side. 'Would you like me to come back to the house with you?' he asked quietly as he reached the side, holding onto the edge of the pool as he looked up at her, the muscles in his shoul­ders bulging.

She opened her mouth to decline but Romano was there before her, his face still expressionless but his voice gratingly sharp as he said, 'There is no need for that. Grace needs a little peace and quiet and the com­pany of her friend, that is all. I understand you have been down at the pool some time?' he added to Claire with­out a change of tone, and when she nodded he con­tinued, 'Then it will not be too much of a sacrifice to return now?'

'Of course not.' He was being deliberately difficult and she was going to hit him in a minute, Claire thought furiously, Lorenzo or no Lorenzo. She had been with Grace all morning, and it had been her friend who had suggested she come down to the pool and have half an hour in the cold clean water to blow the cobwebs away. Knowing Grace as she did, she was sure she had made that perfectly clear to Romano. He didn't like her and he was seizing an excuse to try and make her feel guilty and foolish with his insinuations that she was neglecting Grace. Well, he could go and take a running jump, and there was no need for him to have taken such a high­handed attitude with Attilio either.

She looked down at Attilio now, her last thought mak­ing her voice warm and soft as she spoke to the upturned face. 'Thank you, Attilio, but I'm sure everything will be OK.' Her gaze moved to Lorenzo who, clearly un­aware of the undercurrents among the adults, had been practising his diving while they spoke. 'It would be bet­ter for Lorenzo to have half an hour down here, I think, while I see how things are.'

'Of course.' As Lorenzo surfaced again Attilio tapped his young charge on the shoulder. 'Come on, this is sup­posed to be an hour of physical exercise, so let's exer­cise, eh? Twenty lengths of the pool, non-stop.'

'Thanks, Attilio,' Claire said quietly.

As Lorenzo swam off, cutting through the water like a brown missile, Attilio smiled up at her before he moved off. 'Any time.' It was noticeable that the smile did not include Romano, and also that there had been none of the courtesy between the two men that was nor­mally apparent.

'Well? Are you going to stand here gazing after your swain or are you going to come back to the house and care for Grace?' Romano asked coldly, bringing her gaze swinging back to him.

'My what?'

He was already turning to walk back, and she fell into step beside him, the top of her head on a level with his shoulders.

'Your swain, admirer, suitor—call it what you will,' he said coolly, his hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets and his black eyes narrowed slits as he stared straight ahead. 'I am not sure of the word you would use in England.'

'The word I would use is "friend", actually, not that it's any of your business.' Her eyes were flashing sparks of fire; she couldn't remember when anyone had made her so mad before. 'And I deeply resent your insinuation that I am neglecting Grace, by the way,' she added ve­hemently.

'Do you?' It seemed the fiercer she got the more dis­tant and controlled he became. 'Well, strange as it may seem to you, I will not lose too much sleep over that,' he said impassively.

'Oh, good.' The sarcasm was thick and heavy. 'That makes it all OK, then, if you're happy, does it? The great Romano Bellini has spoken—the fount of all knowledge, who, of course, cannot be wrong, has given his opinion, yet again, on something he knows absolutely nothing about—'

'Do not test my patience, Claire.'

'Test your patience?' She swung round in front of him now, forcing him to stop as she glared up into his dark, imperturbable face. 'Don't you dare come that—not with me! You storm down here today, flinging all sorts of accusations about—'

'I most certainly have not,' he bit out grimly.

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