Forgotten Mistress, Secret Love-Child Read online

Despite her nerves, her lips twitched as she remembered Alessandro’s look of astonishment when she suggested it. Only a big formal wedding would do for the Conte Mattani and his bride. No quick civil ceremony was permitted.

  So now she had to face a temperamental artiste, no doubt disappointed the bride wouldn’t live up to their designs. Carys stood straighter, preparing for the worst.

  A knock sounded on the massive double doors and Paulo’s voice introduced her visitor. Carys felt her jaw lock as his words rolled over her. Her body stiffened with disbelief.

  Impossible as it seemed, the worst was even more horrendous than she could have anticipated.

  Her stomach went into a freefall of shock.

  How could Livia have done it? How could she have chosen this designer of all people? She must have known—

  ‘Signorina Wells?’ The softly spoken words finally penetrated. Reluctantly, stiffly, Carys turned.

  The woman before her was just as she remembered. Slim, elegant, huge dark eyes in a gorgeous elfin face. Dressed with a casual grace and a fortune in pearls that accentuated her delicate appeal.

  Was it any wonder Alessandro had planned to marry her?

  Pain, razor sharp and vicious, sheared through Carys. She grabbed the back of a nearby chair rather than double up in anguish. Desperate tension crawled up her spine as she strove to school her expression.

  ‘Principessa Carlotta.’ The words were rusty, thick, the product of a throat aching with distress.

  Did they really expect her to submit to this woman’s ministrations?

  ‘Carlotta, please.’ Her smile was warm, her husky voice appealing. Carys registered surprise that she seemed so approachable. So apparently ready to befriend the woman Alessandro had chosen over her.

  Carys knew if their places were reversed she couldn’t behave so blithely.

  ‘Forgive me.’ The other woman stopped a few paces away, her smile disappearing as concern etched her brow. ‘But are you all right? You look very pale.’

  Carys wasn’t surprised. It felt as if all her blood had drained away. She clamped her hand tighter around the chair back, summoning the strength she needed to stay upright.

  ‘I’m…’ What? Surprised to find my husband’s ex-lover here?

  Or was she still his lover?

  The thought smashed through her rigid self-control and Carys found her knees crumpling. Abruptly she sat, grateful to discover an antique sofa behind her.

  ‘You’re unwell. I’ll call for assistance.’

  ‘No!’ Carys cringed at the idea of a fuss. She couldn’t believe her own weakness. She’d faced this years ago. It was just the shock of meeting her rival face to face. ‘It’s jet lag,’ she murmured. ‘We only arrived a few hours ago.’

  Despite her exhaustion, she hadn’t been able to sleep in the vast gold-on-cream bedroom suite she’d been given. She’d felt out of place and on edge, her mind whirring.

  ‘Forgive me, signorina, but I think it’s more than that.’ Dark eyes scrutinised her carefully. It was clear the princess was an astute woman.

  Carys released the breath she’d been holding. She couldn’t play this charade. She’d never been good at dissembling. She’d rather face facts, however unpalatable.

  ‘Won’t you sit down?’ Her voice sounded choked.

  After a moment the princess took a chair opposite, every movement a study in fluid grace and elegance.

  Carys felt like a country bumpkin in her presence. Carefully she locked her hands in her lap to stop them shaking, then drew another sustaining breath.

  ‘The truth is it was a shock to see you.’ She paused, watching the other woman tilt her head in curiosity. ‘I saw you once with Alessandro, two years ago.’

  Pride screamed at her to stop there, to retain her dignity. But despite the craven impulse to keep quiet, Carys refused to play games of innuendo and unspoken secrets. She wasn’t that sophisticated. If her blunt unrefined ways didn’t fit her husband’s milieu, then so be it. If she was going to live here she had to face this.

  ‘I was Alessandro’s lover,’ she said, her voice stretched thin like fine wire. ‘But then I discovered he was planning to marry you.’

  There. It was in the open. No hiding from the truth now.

  The other woman’s mouth sagged and her eyes widened. There was shock in her expression and the taut lines of her neck. Now, this close, Carys wondered if she’d been unwell. She seemed almost gaunt, suddenly fragile rather than chic.

  ‘It was you? I thought there was someone, but Alessandro never said.’

  ‘No.’ Bitterness filled her mouth. ‘Alessandro kept me very much to himself.’

  ‘But you’ve got it wrong.’ The other woman leaned forward, one thin hand stretched out.

  ‘No, principessa. I know exactly how it was.’

  ‘Please. You must call me Carlotta!’ There was such tension in her small frame and wide eyes Carys didn’t demur. ‘And Alessandro and I were not planning to marry.’

  What? Carys sat bolt upright in her seat, torn from welling self-pity in an instant.

  ‘Nor were we lovers,’ Carlotta said. ‘Ah, I can see from your expression that’s what you thought. But we were never more than friends.’

  Carys remained silent. ‘Friends’ was often a euphemism for something more. Was Carlotta trying to gull her? What reason could she have?

  ‘You must believe me, signorina—’

  ‘Carys,’ she said abruptly. Formality seemed absurd now.

  ‘Carys.’ Carlotta gave her a faltering smile. ‘There was no marriage plan, except as a notion put forward between our families. Alessandro’s stepmother and my father resurrected the idea. It had been discussed years ago when we were just teenagers, but it never came to anything. Alessandro and I…’ She shrugged. ‘We grew up together, but there was never that special spark between us. You know?’

  Carys knew. The spark Alessandro ignited in her had blazed like wildfire, instantaneous and all-consuming, incinerating everything in its path. Her doubts, her natural reticence, every defence she had. Oh, but it had been glorious. Heat drenched her chilled body, just remembering.

  She looked into the other woman’s earnest face. Could it really be true?

  ‘But Livia told me…’

  Carlotta nodded. ‘Livia promoted the match. She and my family thought a marriage would be in all our interests.’

  Something about her diffident tone caught Carys’ attention. ‘Interests?’

  The other woman shrugged one shoulder. ‘Business. You know how bad things were after Alessandro’s father died. It was touch and go whether Alessandro would lose the company.’

  No. Carys hadn’t known. She’d guessed things were grim. Had tried to offer support, but the more she’d tried the more he’d turned from her, isolating himself.

  ‘There was talk of a merger, saving Alessandro’s company and boosting my family’s.’ She paused and looked down at her hands. ‘Plus I’d been through a difficult time and they thought marriage to Alessandro would save me from myself.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t understand.’ This was beyond Carys.

  Carlotta raised her head and met her gaze squarely. ‘I was recovering from anorexia nervosa.’ Her liquid dark eyes dared Carys to condemn her, but Carys felt only horror that anyone, much less this beautiful woman, should be struck down by the insidious condition.

  ‘Two years ago I was barely out of hospital. With my family’s help, and with Alessandro’s, I was just beginning to find my confidence. To go out and even think of starting work again.’ She shook her head. ‘It took Alessandro’s strength and persistence to force me out into society. Even at that worst of times for him, he found time to help me. If it hadn’t been for him beside me those first few times, even my parents’ support wouldn’t have got me out the door.’

  ‘I saw you with him,’ Carys found herself saying, ‘at a hotel in town. You wore full-length gold. You looked like a fairy princess.’ And Carys had never felt more
an outsider, standing in the shadows looking in at the glittering world she’d never be part of. At the man she’d lost.

  ‘I remember that night.’ Carlotta nodded. ‘The gown had to be altered so much. But the full length and long sleeves hid the worst of my condition.’

  ‘I’d never have guessed. You were breathtaking.’ Carys sank back in her chair, her head reeling as she digested Carlotta’s news.

  Was that why Alessandro had seemed so protective? Because he was worried about Carlotta’s health? But why had he never said anything to Carys?

  ‘You don’t believe me.’

  Carys looked up to find Carlotta watching her. ‘I do. I just…Livia deliberately let me believe…’ The older woman had told her baldly that Alessandro was engaged to marry someone of his own social circle. That he was simply with Carys as a final fling before settling down. She’d even dropped by unannounced with a box of printers’ samples for him. It had been full of wedding invitations.

  ‘Livia wanted the marriage quite badly. At one stage it looked as if the company might go under. Which, if you forgive me saying, would impact on her own wealth.’

  Livia as a desperate woman? The idea hadn’t occurred to Carys. She seemed so assured, so regal, so in control. But perhaps if her position was threatened…

  ‘I heard about the engagement elsewhere too,’ Carys said slowly. At the time the evidence seemed insurmountable, especially when Alessandro had refused to explain, merely stating baldly he would never behave so badly and accusing her of infidelity! ‘I met your cousin, Stefano Manzoni.’

  ‘You know Stefano?’

  ‘Not know, precisely. He took me for coffee and drove me home.’ Carys refrained from adding Stefano had viewed her disillusionment with Alessandro as an invitation to sexual dalliance. For all his charm and flattery he’d had more arms than an octopus.

  ‘Ah, Stefano had hopes of that merger. When it became clear it wouldn’t happen, he spent a lot of energy aiming for a hostile takeover. But he didn’t succeed. He was no match for Alessandro.’

  The pride in Carlotta’s voice made Carys watch her carefully, but she read no sign of possessiveness. No hint of intimacy in the way she spoke of Alessandro.

  ‘I’m sorry my friendship with Alessandro hurt you. If I’d known—’

  ‘It wasn’t you.’ Carys leaned forward at the other woman’s obvious distress, instinctively accepting what she said as true. It was far more likely that Livia, jealous of her position and eager to shore up the family wealth, had gone all out to scare off an upstart foreigner.

  And how little effort it had taken! Carys had been her own worst enemy, only too ready to believe her. The knowledge made her stomach churn in self-disgust and regret.

  Alessandro had grown unapproachable, shunning her attempts to comfort him, but if Carlotta was right, he’d never betrayed Carys!

  Excitement buzzed through her veins. A crazy delight that he had been loyal to her, though he hadn’t loved her. That meant so much.

  It meant that though all personal feelings were at an end between them, Carys was marrying a man she could respect.

  ‘But now everything is right between you both,’ Carlotta said with such a sweet smile Carys didn’t have the heart to disabuse her. ‘I’m glad. Alessandro deserves happiness.’ She stood, and for the first time Carys noticed the large portfolio resting against her chair. ‘And now perhaps we can discuss your gown. I have ideas I hope you’ll approve.’

  Alessandro replaced the phone with careful precision, a scowl dragging at his brow. The sound of Livia, so rarely flustered, still gabbling her excuses, rang in his ears.

  He wasn’t in the mood for excuses.

  While in Australia he’d been unable to contact his stepmother in person. Frustration had built with each passing day till he’d simply left news that he was bringing home his fiancée and requesting she start the wedding preparations.

  It still galled him to discover he’d lived with Carys Wells prior to his accident but hadn’t been told about her after his coma. That Livia had kept it from him and told his staff not to refer to the woman who’d been his lover.

  As if he needed protecting from his past!

  He shot to his feet and paced the room.

  Livia’s explanations didn’t alleviate his thwarted fury at being kept in the dark. It didn’t matter that Livia thought Carys on the make, out to snare a wealthy man. Or that Carys had already walked out of his life. Or even that the doctors had said it was best if he were left to recover his memory without prompting.

  He should have been told.

  Livia’s talk of a possible match at the time with Carlotta meant nothing. Alessandro knew without being told what had prompted that—Livia searching for an easy way to shore up the family finances. As if he and Carlotta would ever make a match of it. And, more to the point, as if he’d abrogate his responsibility to salvage the company by buying his way out of trouble with his wife’s money!

  He rubbed his jaw, realising he now had an explanation for Carys’ belief he’d two-timed her with Carlotta. Livia had no doubt blown their friendship out of all proportion.

  For a moment he considered enlightening Carys, proving he was innocent of her accusations. But she wouldn’t believe him. The distrust flashing in her eyes was too easy to read.

  He turned and strode back across the room, unable to ignore any longer Livia’s most important revelation.

  She’d hinted the affair had been a casual fling, because he’d kept Carys to himself and refused social invitations.

  But that only stirred his curiosity. There had been plenty of lovers in his life, yet he’d never been reluctant to take them out publicly. That was one of the functions they performed—company at the many social events he attended.

  His skin prickled with preternatural awareness as he remembered Livia saying while Carys was in residence he’d shunned the social whirl, preferring to stay home with his lover. Such behaviour was unprecedented.

  And the only reason he could fathom was unthinkable.

  That he’d been totally absorbed by her, unwilling to share her with others.

  His ability to fixate on what interested him had been one of the keys to his business success. And though he hid it well, his possessive streak was well developed. He hadn’t liked to share his toys as a child, and as an adult what he had he held on to.

  If he’d felt…attached to Carys, he’d have kept her to himself rather than parade her before the sharks ready to pursue an attractive woman.

  If he’d felt attached.

  Alessandro shook his head. He didn’t do serious relationships. Didn’t believe in romantic love. It should be impossible.

  Should be.

  Yet that frisson of instinct told its own story.

  He scrubbed his hand across his jaw, knowing a moment’s unfamiliar hesitation.

  There were too many unanswered questions, and Carys alone held the key to every answer.

  Even his fiancée’s relationship with her family puzzled him. Not one of them would attend the wedding. That wasn’t like any family he knew.

  The woman was an enigma as well as a temptation.

  He turned on his heel and strode to the door.

  He found her in the grand salon, leaning into the corner of one of the uncomfortable antique sofas Livia had installed.

  In her crumpled aqua skirt and matching beaded top, her hair in a ponytail, Carys was a breath of fresh air in the stuffy, formal room.

  He walked closer.

  She didn’t move. Her head rested on one arm as if she’d leaned sideways and fallen instantly asleep. One beaded sandal dangled precariously from her toes. The other lay discarded and his gaze moved to her slim, bare foot, pale and shapely and ridiculously enticing with its painted pink toenails.

  A tremor of heat ricocheted through his belly as he followed the lissom curve of her ankle to her calf, her knee and, where her skirt had rucked up, to her thigh.

  He remembered the feel of he
r supple legs encasing him as he thrust her back against the wall of his suite at the Landford. The musky scent of her arousal. The sound of her whimpering mews for more. The sheer erotic blaze of glory that had been him and Carys, on the verge of consummating this…need between them.

  Just the echo of that memory had him hard and wanting and ready, feet planted wide and breathing constricted.

  Yet instinctively he resisted.

  Livia’s news made him pause.

  It couldn’t be true that Carys had become so important to him before his accident. He, who’d learnt early not to trust in love or the fidelity of the female sex!

  No. There was some other explanation behind his relationship with Carys.

  And for the way she made him feel now.

  Protective. It was ludicrous. This was the woman he’d told to leave because she’d been with another man. And yet…

  Alessandro shook his head, adrift on a sea of turbulent, unfamiliar emotions. He was used to his life proceeding in the pattern he designed. Emotions had no place there. Or they hadn’t before Carys.

  His shoulders cramped as he fought the tug of feelings, weaknesses, he preferred not to acknowledge.

  Despite a few hours’ sleep on the long flight from Melbourne, dark smudges were still visible beneath her eyes.

  Unwilling concern twisted in his belly.

  This woman got to him as no other!

  Without giving himself time to think, he bent and scooped Carys into his arms, ignoring the sense of familiarity that rose and crested, like a wave of warmth, as he tucked her close to his torso. Clearly he’d carried her before.

  His body knew hers, only too intimately.

  He turned for the door. She’d rest better in her own bed. He’d leave her there and then look in on Leo.

  Alessandro lengthened his stride as he headed for the main staircase. That time alone with Leo on the flight had whetted his appetite for his son’s company. He found the boy more fascinating than any other child of his acquaintance.

  Alessandro had reached the top of the stairs when Carys woke. Her lips parted in a sleepy smile, and heat doused him. Eyes as bright as stars met his and instantly desire exploded into life, tightening his groin, tensing every muscle. In that moment he veered automatically towards the master suite rather than the rooms where she’d been installed.