Millionaire Tycoon's English Rose Page 3

  ‘I guess he’s got a very good surveillance team working on it,’ Ken suggested lightly.

  He meant it as a joke, but Celia’s face tightened and her voice was hard as she said, ‘Evidently.’

  ‘What do you want to do?’ Ken asked. ‘You’ve paid for the whole day, and there’s two hours left, so we don’t have to go back before then.’

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to head out to sea for a long as possible. But she mastered the impulse and said in a resigned voice, ‘No, let’s go back now. I’ve got to face him sooner or later.’

  ‘Why have you got to face him?’ Fiona asked indignantly. ‘This is the twenty-first century. A woman doesn’t have to put up with an abusive man.’

  ‘But he isn’t abusive.’ Celia sighed. ‘He’s gentle and loving and protective. He wants to shield me from every wind that blows.’

  ‘Oh, Lord!’ Fiona said in sympathy. As they neared land she said, ‘I can see his face now. He doesn’t look loving and protective. He looks mad as hell.’

  ‘Good!’ Celia said. ‘Then can I be as mad as hell and throw something at him?’

  ‘What would you do about aiming?’ Fiona wanted to know.

  ‘I wouldn’t need to,’ Celia said despairingly. ‘If he saw me lifting a heavy vase he’d get in front of me and let it hit him. Ooooh, what am I going to do with a man like that?’

  ‘Leave him,’ Fiona said at once. ‘Or you won’t survive.’

  ‘I know, I know, but it’s so drastic.’

  ‘Yes, but I know what it’s like. I broke my leg once, and my boyfriend drove me crazy fussing round me—do this, don’t do that, let me get this for you, don’t strain yourself. In the end I thumped him with my crutch. It was the only way.’

  ‘What happened to him?’ Celia asked, fascinated.

  ‘Don’t know. I never saw him again.’

  Celia laughed, but the laughter soon faded and she leaned on the rail, her head bent down in the direction of the water that she could hear foaming beneath.

  When they reached their destination Francesco was the first on board, coming straight to her and taking her hand.

  ‘I’ll take you ashore,’ he said. ‘And we’ll go home.’

  ‘No, thank you,’ she replied firmly. ‘As part of my day out I get a meal with the crew. And I’m hungry.’

  ‘I’ll get you a meal on the way home,’ he persisted.

  His hands were on her arms, urging her so firmly that her anger began to grow.

  ‘Let go of me, Francesco,’ she said in a low voice.

  ‘I only want to guide you—’

  ‘So you say. But you’re that close to dragging me. Please let go, because I’m going to eat here.’

  ‘If it makes it any easier we’ll give you a refund for that part of the fee,’ Ken offered.

  It actually made things harder for her, by cutting the ground out from under her feet, making her sound childishly stubborn for the sake of it. But he meant well, so she smiled and yielded.

  She was forced to let Francesco help her off the boat and escort her towards the changing rooms. But she knew he was waiting for her outside. She must face him. And then what?

  She knew him so well. She could feel his moods tearing apart the darkness around her, and could sense that behind his courteous charm he was in a furious temper that he was determined to conceal. She, too, was in a temper, but less sure about the virtue of concealing it.

  Celia said her goodbyes and thanked Ken for a wonderful day.

  ‘And I don’t want a refund,’ she said. ‘I had a great time.’

  ‘Er—actually, I’ve already given the refund to your friend.’

  ‘What? I never said I was going to agree.’

  ‘He thought he was doing what would please you,’ Ken said placatingly.

  ‘You mean, he took it for granted that he knew best,’ Celia snapped. ‘How much did you give him?’

  He told her, and she immediately plunged into her bag and produced the amount.

  ‘I do not want a refund,’ she said.

  ‘Celia, c’mon—’

  ‘Take it!’

  One look at her set face was enough to make him accept the notes.

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Now, where’s the driver I hired for the day? He should be here to take me home.’

  ‘I’m here,’ said the voice of a middle-aged man beside her. ‘But there’s a feller over there keeps trying to make me go away. He says he’ll drive you. But I can’t just go off unless you say so. What should I do?’

  For a moment she was on the verge of getting into the car and leaving Francesco standing there, looking foolish. But the impulse died. This wasn’t the time nor the place for the coming battle.

  ‘Tell him you’ll do what he wants,’ she said. ‘But only in return for a huge tip.’

  ‘How huge?’

  ‘Take him for all you can,’ she said crossly.

  ‘Yes, ma’am!’

  ‘Remind me never to get on your wrong side,’ Ken said with feeling.

  She laughed reluctantly. ‘Yes, I’m told I scare strong men.’

  ‘I believe it. But here’s Fiona with Wicksy. He isn’t scared of you.’

  Her guide dog came forward, relieved at recovering her after an absence of several hours. For a few moments they nuzzled each other.

  ‘Sorry to leave you alone, my darling,’ she murmured. ‘I couldn’t take you onto the boat—’

  ‘I think he’d have jumped into the water after you,’ Ken said.

  ‘Yes, he would,’ he said fondly.

  ‘Are you ready?’ That was Francesco’s voice. ‘I’m driving you home.’

  ‘What about the driver I hired?’ Celia asked, contriving to sound innocent.

  ‘I persuaded him to go.’

  ‘You had no right to do that.’

  ‘Then no doubt you’ll be pleased to know that he exacted a hefty price,’ Francesco said grimly.

  ‘Really? Shocking!’

  ‘And don’t try to sound surprised, because I saw him talking to you, and it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that you put him up to that bit of blackmail.’

  ‘Who? Me?’

  ‘Here’s the car. In you go, boy.’

  When Wicksy was safely installed on the backseat Celia got into the front, immediately feeling his cold nose against her neck—his way of reminding her that he was still here. She put her hand behind her to touch him, silently saying, Message received, and after that they were both able to relax.

  She needed all Wicksy’s calming influence to silence her inner rage at what Francesco had done. It was a long drive home, and she didn’t want to fight in the car.

  At first it seemed he didn’t want to, either, but after a while he said through gritted teeth, ‘How could you? How could you do it?’

  ‘I did it because I had to. Because I wanted to find out if I could.’

  ‘And now you know. Is anything better?’

  ‘It might have been if you hadn’t spoiled it. I could just as easily ask, How could you? No, no, don’t answer that. We mustn’t fight about this now. We’ve said it all so often. Let’s just get home.’

  Nobody spoke for the rest of the drive, but it didn’t feel like silence because the air was jagged with anger and with all the words being suppressed. By the time they reached their destination she was exhausted.

  Home was still the flat she’d lived in before, which had been adapted for her in so many ways that it had made sense for him to move in with her five months earlier. After that one sweet loving there had been no question about their living together. Neither of them could have borne to do anything else.

  ‘I’ll take Wicksy for his walk,’ she said as she got out of the car.

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘No!’ The word came out in a flash, before she could stop it, and she was instantly contrite. ‘I’m sorry—it’s just that I need to be alone. I’m all tensed up.’

  ‘I’ll be waiting a
t home, then,’ he said in a colourless voice.

  She was out for a long time, deliberately delaying her return home because of the fearful voice in her mind that warned her they were approaching a crisis, and the wrong words could destroy them both.

  Part of her knew the problem had to be faced, and she wanted to go forward and deal with it. Part of her shrank away, arguing that things could be smoothed over with more time, and perhaps everything would be better in future. He might even be asleep when she returned.

  But he wasn’t asleep, and she knew that the evil moment couldn’t be postponed any longer.

  ‘You were gone a long time,’ he said edgily. ‘I was—’

  ‘Don’t!’ she told him quickly. ‘Don’t say you were worried about me. Just don’t say that.’

  ‘Is it wrong for me to be worried about you?’

  ‘You overdo it. That’s all I meant.’

  ‘I know what a tough day you’ve had, and when you vanish into the darkness like that—’

  ‘Francesco, for pity’s sake,’ she groaned. ‘Why do you say things like that?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Vanish into the darkness. I’m always in the darkness. It’s where I’m at home. I’m not lost in it, as you would be. Why can’t I make you understand that?’

  ‘I do understand it in one way—’

  ‘It’s not enough,’ she cried. ‘I’m not helpless, I’m not an invalid, but in your mind I’m always slightly less than a whole person.’

  ‘No—not really. But—you do have a disadvantage that other people don’t have—’

  ‘I also have advantages that other people don’t have. My memory is twice as good as yours, because I’ve trained it. I can hear things in people’s voices that you’d miss. I saved you a lot of money once by warning you that the man you were planning to do business with was untrustworthy. I could hear it in his voice. You were very lofty about that at the time. “You and your intuition!” you said. But at least you had the sense to listen to me and throw him out. He’s just started a two-year stretch for fraud, in case you didn’t know.’

  ‘Yes, I did. I was going to tell you, and say thank you. But I might have known you’d hear it first.’

  ‘Yes, you might. Perhaps I’m not as much at a disadvantage as you think.’

  He sighed, and she could hear him pacing the room.

  ‘How did you know where to find me?’ she asked.

  ‘I remembered Ken from when we met him at that party. You talked to him for so long that I got jealous—until I realised it was his diving that fascinated you. You’ve called him several times since then, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I have. It took time to set up today.’

  ‘I’m sure there must have been a lot of planning,’ he said in a bleak voice. ‘Booking the day, hiring the car to drive you down there, leaving the flat secretly, not telling me where you were going—that took some organising. When I found your note I checked up on Ken’s firm and discovered that you had a booking.’

  ‘So you jumped into your car and came down to tell me that I mustn’t dive because I didn’t have your permission?’ she said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Because it isn’t safe for you.’

  ‘It’s as safe for me as for anyone. I was on a line. Ken could have hauled me in at any time.’

  ‘You went behind my back,’ he said harshly.

  The bitterness in his voice dulled the edge of her anger, reminding her how easy it was to hurt him. She didn’t want to hurt him, She wanted to love him as she’d done in their first carefree days; days that she knew would never come again.

  ‘You don’t give me any choice,’ she cried. ‘I had to do it without telling you because you’d have made such a fuss. You always do that if I try to do anything a little bit unusual.’

  ‘A little bit?’ he echoed. ‘You were scuba diving.’

  ‘Yes, and I managed perfectly well. As I knew I would. But you can’t bring yourself to believe that, can you? Sometimes I think you actually hate it when I manage to do something without you.’

  ‘For God’s sake, do you know what you’re saying?’

  ‘Yes, I’m saying I want to live my life as an adult, without having to apply to you for permission to take every breath.’

  ‘I’m only trying to keep you safe.’

  ‘I don’t want to be safe. I want the freedom to take the same risks as other people, and before I met you I had it. I loved it. But you set yourself to take it away from me, wrap me in cotton wool and lock me in a cocoon. I can’t live in there, Francesco, not even if you’re there with me. It’s like a prison, and I have to break out.’

  ‘Aren’t you being a bit melodramatic?’ he demanded

  ‘Not from where I’m standing.’

  ‘Meaning that I’m a gaoler?’

  ‘The kindest, most loving gaoler in the world,’ she said, trying to soften it. ‘I know that you love me, and it’s your love that makes you overprotective, but I can’t live that way. I’ve got to get as far out on the edge as I can without you trying to drag me back.’

  ‘Drag you—Now you’re talking nonsense.’

  ‘Anything you disagree with is nonsense, according to you. I can’t live my life wondering if you’re standing there behind me, trying to bring everything to a halt.’

  ‘You don’t—’

  ‘Francesco, listen to me, please. The really sad thing about today is that I would have loved to share it with you. It would have been wonderful to go into the water together and sink down, hand in hand. I even came to the edge of telling you. But I backed off at the last minute because I knew you’d do everything to stop me.’

  ‘Because I don’t want to lose you,’ he growled.

  ‘But you are losing me,’ she said piteously. ‘Oh, why can’t you see that?’

  ‘By trying to protect you? Isn’t that my job? We’re practically husband and wife, and a man looks after his wife—’

  ‘That shouldn’t mean putting a ball and chain on her.’

  She heard his sharp intake of breath. ‘That’s a lousy thing to say.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.’

  ‘I’d sure as hell like to know how you did mean it,’ he said bitterly.

  ‘It’s just that to you life is one big word—no.’

  ‘All right, maybe I take things a little too far,’ he grated, ‘but I don’t just ask you to say no to things you want. I wouldn’t do that without being prepared to do the same.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ she asked, with a sudden keen edge to her voice.

  He failed to hear its significance,

  ‘My firm asked me to start an Italian branch, in Naples—’

  ‘Your home town,’ she gasped in delight. ‘That’s great. When do we leave?’

  ‘We don’t. I turned it down.’

  ‘You did what?’

  ‘How could I possibly ask you to come to Italy with me? You manage well enough in England, but what would you do in a strange country?’

  ‘Meaning that I’m too stupid to find the way? Are you forgetting that I’ve already learned Italian?’

  ‘We’ve done some together, cara, and it’s been delightful—’

  ‘A delightful game, you mean?’ she said in a hard voice. ‘Humouring me. You made a big decision like that without consulting me because you didn’t think I was up to the task?’

  ‘I only meant—’

  ‘How dare you? How dare you?’

  ‘I was only thinking of you,’ he retorted.

  ‘Did I ask you to think of me? I’m not a child, Francesco, and I’m not an idiot. And I’ve had enough of you treating me that way.’

  ‘Look, we’ll talk about it when you’ve calmed down.’

  ‘I’m not worked up. Inside I’m as cold as ice, and I’m telling you that I want you to go.’

  ‘Go where? I live here.’

  ‘Not any longer. It doesn’t work between us. I think perhaps it never could
. Please go quickly. I don’t want to see you here again.’

  ‘You don’t want to what?’

  ‘Go!’

  ‘Celia, for pity’s sake, stop this before it’s too late.’

  ‘It’s been too late for a long time,’ she whispered.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry if I went too far. But after all we’ve been to each other you can’t just—’

  ‘It’s over,’ she said, feeling that she would start to scream in a minute. ‘Please go, Francesco. Just pack a bag and go tonight. You can get the rest of your things later. But go now.’

  In the silence she could sense that he was totally stunned. He knew she meant it.

  Suddenly she broke.

  ‘Get out!’ she screamed. ‘Just get out!’

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘GET out. Just get out.’

  He heard the words before he awoke. They echoed in the darkness behind his eyes, screaming around his head like curses.

  Then his eyes were open and he was sitting up in bed, trying to understand the world around him. He didn’t know where he was. Surely this was his home back in London, but where was she? Why not in bed with him?

  Then the haze cleared, the walls fell into place. He was back at his parents’ home, the Villa Rinucci in southern Italy, a place where he hadn’t lived for years.

  Now he was using it as a refuge until he could clear his head. Nothing had been straight in his mind since the day Celia had thrown him out. Somehow he’d organised himself, agreed to return to Naples to set up the Italian branch of his firm, and left England. There had been one brief meeting with Celia when he’d collected his things, but they had spoken to each other like strangers, and he hadn’t seen her again. She was behind him. Finished. Over and done with.

  Except that her cry of ‘Get out!’ still echoed with him, day and night. And the worst thing, the thing that actually scared him, was that it wasn’t only her voice he heard. It was as though someone had cast a malign spell, triggered by those words and those alone. And he couldn’t escape.

  Francesco got out of bed and went to the window, seeing the dawn beginning to break over the Bay of Naples. As he sat there, unwilling to return to bed and risk a repetition of the nightmare, he heard a soft footstep in the corridor outside and knew that it was Hope, refusing to accept that a man in his late-thirties didn’t need to be hovered over protectively by his mother.