Susan Stephens - At Her Latin Lover's Command - The Italian Count's Command / The French Count's Mistress / At the Spanish Duke's Command

But where, she wondered, could she go to get a pregnancy test, without half of Italy knowing? She giggled, excited and happy again.

High on adrenaline and glowing with delight, she descended the stairs and drifted into the salon. The two men stopped talking as if they’d been discussing her but their admiring expressions told her that she looked strikingly different from a few moments ago.

Yet it only took a leer from Guido to throw her off balance and unnerve her again. He seemed to be getting under her skin though she didn’t know why.

Deliberately she chose to sit as far away from him as possible, settling herself on a Renaissance chaise longue beneath a wall displaying portraits of medieval Severini cardinals.

Dante brought her a drink. ‘You look wonderful,’ he murmured.

Her starry eyes flicked up to his and she couldn’t stop the radiant smile from lighting up her whole face.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered back.

Then, as he gazed into her eyes, a slight frown formed, drawing his black brows together as if he was puzzled. Could he tell? she wondered, absently taking a gulp of the champagne. And then she wished she hadn’t in case she really was pregnant. She put the glass down on the gilt table and concentrated on appearing normal.

‘What bright eyes you have!’ Guido drawled. ‘You look like an advert for eye drops. Or something.’

Eye drops? She blinked. And understood the cause of Dante’s frown. ‘I am happy,’ she said calmly. ‘I don’t need artificial substances.’

‘I should hope not!’ Guido declared in rather overdone horror. ‘I’ve been to too many parties where people disappeared into bathrooms for a snort of cocaine and came back with suspiciously bright eyes.’

‘Miranda wouldn’t dream of using drugs here.’ Dante spoke with firmness and she smiled at him gratefully.

‘No. I wouldn’t,’ she said softly. ‘It would destroy our relationship and that’s too precious to risk.’

Dante visibly relaxed and she realised how tense he’d been. It worried her that Guido was sowing seeds of doubt in Dante’s mind. And she couldn’t fathom why.

‘Guido has brought some of your possessions from England,’ Dante said, adroitly changing the subject.

‘I gather you were the special messenger, Guido. Thank you,’ she managed to say to him. ‘I appreciate your efforts.’

‘No problem,’ he said airily. ‘I had some help from Lizzie. Some pad, eh?’

He leaned back in his deep armchair. His narrowed eyes scanned the richly decorated room, the carved ceiling, marble fireplace and elegant furniture with greedy approval.

‘You know Lizzie?’ she said, surprised.

Guido grinned rather nastily and gave a suggestive little chuckle that made her flinch and shrink into the depths of the upholstery.

‘As well as I know you,’ he said with a smirk.

Not well, then, she thought with relief. Although Dante doted on his brother, she’d never quite taken to him. There was something sly and self-seeking about the guy. The last thing she wanted was for the impressionable Lizzie to get involved with him.

She looked at his stubby hands and inexplicably found herself shuddering. The pleasure of her possible pregnancy had been completely overshadowed by her irrational dislike of Guido.

‘I asked Lizzie to sort out a few must-have items for you,’ Dante explained to her, ‘and to contact Guido so that he could bring them over. The rest will come overland. I hope that’s all right?’

‘Yes. Fine,’ she said brightly. And forced herself to address Guido. ‘How long will you be staying?’

Lazily the dark eyes lingered on her with such boldness that it felt as if he were ripping off her clothes. Stupid, she told herself. He was young, good-looking and virile, and probably gave all women the glad eye.

‘A few days or so,’ Guido drawled, his lips wet and seemingly bloody from the red wine he was drinking. ‘If that’s acceptable.’

‘Of course.’

She tried to sound enthusiastic for Dante’s sake but her instincts were to recoil from him as if he were a venomous snake.

Maybe she had become super-sensitive—a downside of pregnancy, perhaps? Guido hadn’t affected her like this in all the time she’d known him at the London office. She knew his reputation with women from office gossip and that he had a rather cavalier attitude of ‘love ’em and leave ’em’. Although she’d never liked him, these feelings of extreme revulsion were entirely new.

‘The weather’s vile in England,’ he confided. ‘I look forward to swimming and sunbathing by the pool with you both.’

The thought of exposing her body to Guido’s lecherous stare almost made her throw up. Hastily she took a sip of her drink and put it down again guiltily as Dante threw his brother an indulgent look.

‘We’ll catch up on business, Guido, then we can all have a lazy day chilling out.’ He turned to Miranda. ‘You haven’t christened that new bikini yet, have you?’

Vowing to plead a headache—or at least to wear the boring one-piece—she stretched her lips in the shape of a smile.

‘That’s for your eyes only,’ she said shakily.

Guido’s eyebrow shot up. ‘Sounds interesting! Bit revealing, is it?’

She gagged and covered that up with a series of coughs while Dante playfully punched his brother’s shoulder.

They began to discuss their plans for the next day. Either it was her imagination, or Guido was watching her like a hawk. She shivered as his gaze wandered to her cleavage and it seemed that something vile was crawling over her skin. She couldn’t stand any more of this.

‘Look,’ she said, standing up suddenly and prompting the men to leap from their seats again. ‘I hope you don’t think this is rude, and I know you’ve only just arrived, Guido, but I’m very tired. I think I’ll go to bed or I won’t be able to cope with Carlo in the morning.’ She flashed a smile at both of them, though only with Dante did her eyes warm as well. ‘Goodnight, darling.’

Deliberately she walked over, put her arms around Dante’s neck and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. His arms closed around her, his mouth hardened its pressure for a brief moment as if he wanted to deepen the kiss and then he released her.

‘Goodnight, Miranda,’ he said softly.

She smiled. Inviting him with her eyes. ‘Don’t stay up late,’ she whispered, her hand lingering on his chest.

‘No,’ he promised. ‘I won’t.’

She sensed that Guido was tense and disapproving and forced herself to walk quickly past him in case he expected a goodnight kiss too.

‘’Night,’ she said to him with a casual wave, and headed a little unsteadily for the door.

‘I’ll just nip out and tell you what I’ve brought, in case you want some of it upstairs now,’ Guido said, shooting after her.

Her stomach somersaulted and she hurried into the hall.

‘Don’t bother. I can manage with what I have,’ she said sharply.

But he was right behind her and she had to increase her pace even more to avoid his cloying aftershave and the little prickles of fear that attacked her whenever he was close. She was part way up the stairs when he spoke, calling up from the hallway.

‘Dante tells me,’ he murmured, ‘that you and he have patched up your differences. Does that mean he’s forgiven you for being unfaithful?’

‘I wasn’t unfaithful!’ she cried indignantly. ‘I told you that,’ she reminded him, ‘when you came around to see me after he disappeared and I rang your office to see if he was there—’

‘Well,’ Guido said with a shrug, ‘you have to admit that even by your version of events, it looks bad. I think he’s a saint to put family honour second and I told him so, just now.’