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Authors: Lynne Graham

BOOK: Second-Time Bride
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But then mightn't her own wanton excitement have been an echo from the past? she reasoned frantically with herself. But yes, Alessio was right on one count—you never forgot your first love, most especially not when the relationship had ended in raw pain and disillusionment.
‘I think it's wise that we don't see each other again,' Alessio said quietly. ‘I have to admit that I was curious but my curiosity is now satisfied.'
A painful tide of heat climbed slowly up Daisy's slender throat. Dear heaven, he was actually warning her off! Concerned lest that confession of animal lust should have roused fresh expectations in her greedy, gold-digging little heart, he was smoothly striving to kill off any ambitious ideas she might be developing. So cold, so controlled, so unapologetically superior... Her teeth gritted. How
could
Alessio talk to her like this? Did he think he was irresistible? Did he fondly imagine that she was likely to chase after him and make a nuisance of herself?
‘I wasn't even curious to begin with,' she lied.
‘Naturally I was curious. The last time I saw you before today you were five months pregnant and still my wife.'
Her facial muscles locked hard. ‘You didn't want a wife.'
‘No, I have to confess that I didn't. I doubt if you will find many teenage boys who
do
want to get married,' Alessio responded grimly. ‘I was no more prepared for that commitment than you were...but I did attempt to deal with the situation—'
‘Yes, you were a real hero, weren't you?' Daisy broke in with a curling lip. ‘You did the honourable thing. You
married
me! Your
mamma
wept and your
papà
over-flowed with sympathy. Naturally no decent Italian girl would ever have got herself in such a condition!'
‘They were upset!' Alessio growled.
‘Do you think
I
wasn't upset? What do you think it was like for me, being treated like some brassy little slut who had set out to trap you?' Daisy condemned painfully. ‘I wasn't allowed out the door in case someone saw me! I used to have nightmares about giving birth and then being buried alive in the garden!'
‘Don't be ridiculous!' Alessio gritted fiercely.
‘You mean your mother didn't share that little fantasy with you? She was hoping like hell that I would have the baby and then magically disappear, leaving the baby behind! She was always telling me that I was too young to cope with a child and how much
she
loved children...' Daisy shuddered. ‘Talk about feeling threatened! Life with the Leopardis...it was like a Hammer horror movie!'
Scorching eyes landed on her in near-physical assault. ‘You are making me very angry.'
Daisy shrugged and compressed her generous mouth. ‘That's how I remember you—
angry
. No such thing as forgiveness from a Leopardi.'
‘In the circumstances, I think I behaved reasonably well.'
Daisy treated him to a glance of naked contempt. ‘By making the immense sacrifice of marrying me? Don't kid yourself, Alessio. You'd have done me a bigger favour had you dumped me and run the minute I told you I might be pregnant!'
‘What the hell do you have to be so bitter about?' Alessio ground out, raking her with fiercely intent eyes.
You
walked out on
me
! And anyone listening to you would think it only happened last week!'
Daisy tried and failed to swallow. For an instant her confusion and dismay were openly etched on her fragile features and then she turned her head away and saw the familiar frontage of the estate agency with a sense of incredible relief. ‘Being civilised isn't easy, is it?' she conceded tightly.
‘I did love you,' Alessio murmured, his intonation harsh.
As the passenger door beside her swung open, Daisy spun back to him, violet eyes bright with incredulous scorn. ‘Do you think I either want or need your lies
now
?'
‘Don't let me keep you,' Alessio drawled with heavy irony, shooting her a chilling look of antipathy.
The agency was closed. Of course it was. It was after one. Daisy kept on walking, tight and sick inside. This was the very worst day of her life, absolutely the very worst...seeing Alessio again, all those tearing, miserable memories fighting their way up to the surface of her mind and driving her crazy. Mere minutes away from him, she found that she couldn't believe some of the things she had said to him. No wonder he had asked her why she was so hostile! Thirteen years on and still ranting as if the divorce had only become final yesterday!
Not that Alessio had reacted much better at first. But Alessio had got a grip on himself fast. Alessio had stayed in control. Scarcely a surprise, she allowed grudgingly. Alessio had prided himself on never losing control of his temper. For the entire three and a half months of their marriage he had therefore smouldered in a silence that was infinitely more accusing and threatening and debilitating than any mere loss of temper. He had held in all his emotions with rigid, terrifying discipline at a time when Daisy had been desperate for any shred of comfort, any hint of understanding, any crumb of forgiveness. And maybe that was why in the end she had grown to hate her memory of him...
He had reduced her to the level of a tearful, pathetic supplicant, utterly destroying her pride and self-esteem. She had never had a great deal of confidence, but by the time Alessio had finished with her she had had none at all. And yet before their marriage, before everything had gone wrong, Alessio had done wonders for her confidence. He had built her up, told her off for undervaluing herself, frowned every time she cracked a joke at her own expense. He had kept on telling her how beautiful she was, how special, how happy she made
him
feel. Was it surprising that she had fallen so deeply in love with him? Or that when cruel reality had come in the door and plunged them into a shotgun marriage their whole relationship had fallen apart?
A fantastic boyfriend, a lousy husband. He had married her purely for the sake of the baby she'd been carrying. But the minute the wedding had taken place the baby had become a taboo subject. He had never mentioned her condition if he could avoid it. It had been as if he was trying to pretend she wasn't pregnant. And then one night, when the curve of her stomach had become too pronounced for him to ignore, he had abruptly turned away from her, and for those final, wretched weeks he had moved into another bedroom. The ultimate rejection...he had severed even the tenuous bond of sex.
Within days, Bianca, his twin, had been smirking at her like the wicked witch. ‘Fat is a total turn-off for Alessio. Only four months along and already you look like a dumpy little barrel on short legs. He wouldn't be seen dead with you in public. Now he doesn't want to sleep with you either. Can you blame him?'
No blow had been too low for Bianca. Daisy shivered in remembrance. That spiteful tongue had been a constant thorn in her flesh. Brother and sister had been very close. She had often pictured Alessio confiding in Bianca and had cringed at the suspicion that nothing that happened in their marriage was private. She had imagined Alessio describing her as a dumpy little barrel and had wept anguished tears in her lonely bed. Strange that it had occurred to none of them that the sudden increase in her girth was not solely the result of comfort eating but a sign that she was carrying two babies and not one...
Janet's house was only round the corner from her flat. Daisy headed for her aunt like a homing pigeon, praying that Tara was still at her friend's house, wondering if some sixth sense this morning had prompted her to give in to her daughter's pleas for a little more freedom.
Janet was on the phone when she came through the back door. ‘Put on the kettle,' she mouthed, and went back to her call.
Daisy took off her suit jacket, caught a glimpse of herself in the little mirror on the kitchen wall and stared in horror. She rubbed at her cheeks, bit at her lips for colour but could still only focus on the stricken look in her eyes. She hoped she hadn't looked stricken to Alessio and then questioned why it should matter to her. Pride, she supposed. Why hadn't she managed to be cool and distant? Why had she had to rave at him the way she had?
‘You're quiet. Tough morning?' Janet was drawing mugs out of a cupboard.
‘I bumped into Alessio today—'
A mug hit the tiled floor and smashed into about twenty pieces.
‘It affected me like that too,' Daisy confided unsteadily.
‘Let's go into the lounge,' her aunt suggested tautly. ‘We'll be more comfortable in there.'
Daisy couldn't stay still in any case. Her nerves seemed to be leaping up and down with jumping-bean energy. She folded her arms, paced the small room and briefly outlined the bare bones of that meeting. ‘And just wait until you hear this bit... His lousy father told him I
took
the money he offered me!'
Her aunt's angular face was unusually tense. ‘Alessio mentioned the money?'
‘He wouldn't believe me when I said that I'd refused it!'
Janet's bright blue eyes were troubled, her sallow cheeks flushed. ‘Because I accepted it on your behalf.'
Daisy stopped dead in her tracks. ‘You did...what?'
Her aunt walked over to her desk and withdrew a slim file from a drawer. She handed it to Daisy. ‘Try to understand. You weren't thinking about the future. I was worried sick about how you would manage with a baby if anything happened to me.'
Daisy studied the older woman in a complete daze.
‘It's all in the file. A financial consultant helped me to set it up. Not a penny of that money has ever been brought into this country or touched. It's in a Swiss bank account,' Janet explained. ‘But it's there for you and Tara should you ever need it.'
‘Alessio was telling the truth?' Daisy mumbled thickly.
Her aunt sighed. ‘His father came to see me while you were in hospital. He practically begged me to accept the money. He felt terrible about the way things had turned out—'
‘Like heck he did!'
Janet's face set in stern lines. ‘Vittorio was sincere, Daisy. He said that you were miserable and Alessio was equally miserable and that he had felt forced to interfere—'
‘He couldn't wait to interfere!'
‘I found it very hard not to tell him that he
still
had a grandchild on the way,' the older woman confessed wryly. ‘But, just as his loyalties ultimately lay with his son, mine lay with you. I respected your wishes.'
‘But to take the money...' Daisy was shattered by that revelation.
‘I still believe I made the most sensible decision. You were very young at the time. You needed financial security—'
‘I've managed fine all these years without Leopardi conscience money!'
‘But you mightn't have done. A lot of things could have gone wrong,' Janet pointed out. ‘And what about Tara? Don't you think that she is entitled to have something from her father's family?'
‘I'll give it back!' Daisy swore, too upset to listen.
‘Wait and ask your daughter how she feels about that when she's eighteen. I doubt very much that Tara will feel as you feel now. She does, after all, have Leopardi blood in her veins—'
‘Do you think I don't know that?' Daisy asked defensively. ‘Tara knows exactly who she is—'
‘No, she knows who
you
want her to be. She's insatiably curious about her father.'
Daisy was finding herself under a surprise attack from a woman she both respected and loved and it was a deeply disturbing experience. ‘Since when?'
‘The older she gets, the more often she mentions him. She talks about him to me. She won't ask you about him because she doesn't want to upset you.'
‘I have never ducked any of her questions. I've been totally honest with her.'
Janet grimaced. ‘It's going to be very difficult for you but I think it's time for you to tell Alessio that he has a daughter—'
‘Are you out of your mind?' Daisy gasped, thunderstruck.
‘Some day Tara is likely to march into his office in the City and announce herself...and for
her
sake Alessio ought to be forewarned.'
‘I can't believe you're saying this to me.'
‘Do you intend to tell Tara that you met Alessio today?'
There was a sharp little sound from behind them. Both women jerked round. Tara was standing in the hall, wideeyed and apparently frozen to the spot by what she had overheard. Then she surged forward, her pretty face suddenly full of wild excitement. ‘You met my father... Mum, you were speaking to him? Really...genuinely...speaking to him? Did you tell him about me?' she demanded, as if that revelation might have just popped out in casual conversation.

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