The Tuscan Tycoon's Wife

CHAPTER TWO

THE Four-Ten Ranch was ten thousand acres of prime land, populated by five thousand head of cattle, two hundred horses, fifty employees and a family of six.

Selena knew she was in the presence of very serious money when she climbed stiffly out of the horse trailer and saw the stables where Barton kept his prize horse-flesh. She knew humans who lived worse.

Everything moved like clockwork. As she walked in, leading Elliot, a man was pulling open the door of a large, comfortable stall. A vet was already there. So was a doctor, who would have drawn her aside, but Leo Calvani forestalled him with the quiet words, ‘Let her attend the horse first. She won’t settle down until she’s seen him OK.’

She gave him a brief look of gratitude for his understanding, and watched jealously as the vet passed expert hands over Elliot and gave a diagnosis that was roughly the same as Leo’s, with a little elaboration to justify his fee. An anti-inflammatory injection, some bandaging, and it was over.

‘Will he be fit for the rodeo next week?’ Selena asked anxiously.

‘We’ll see. He’s not a young horse any more.’

‘How about letting the doctor look at you now?’ Leo asked her.

She nodded and sat while the doctor examined her head. Beneath her apparent calm she was fighting despair. Her head was aching, her heart was aching and she was aching all over.

‘How are those animals I sold you two years back?’ Leo asked Barton. ‘Shaping up?’

‘Come and see for yourself.’

Together the two men walked along the stalls, and long, intelligent faces turned to watch them go by.

The five horses Barton had bought from Leo were in beautiful condition. They were large beasts with powerful hocks, and they’d been worked hard but treated like royalty.

‘I’ll swear they remember you,’ Barton said as they nuzzled Leo.

‘They don’t forget a sucker.’ Leo grinned.

While admiring the horses he contrived to glance at Selena, who was having a dressing fixed to her forehead.

‘Take it easy for a day or two,’ the doctor was saying. ‘Plenty of rest.’

‘It was just a little bump,’ she insisted.

‘Just a little bump on your head.’

‘I’ll make sure she rests,’ Barton said. ‘My wife’s getting a room ready right now.’

‘That’s nice of her,’ Selena said awkwardly, ‘but I’d rather stay here with Elliot.’

She indicated the piles of hay as though wondering why anyone could want more.

‘Well, you’ve gotta come in to eat,’ Barton exclaimed. ‘We’re just having a snack because we’ll be starting the barbecue in a couple of hours.’

‘You’re very kind but I can’t come in the house,’ Selena said, horribly conscious of her shabby, dishevelled appearance.

Barton scratched his head. ‘Mrs Hanworth will be offended if you don’t.’

‘Then I’ll come in and say thank you.’

She wouldn’t need to stay long, she reckoned: just enough to be polite.

Reluctantly she followed them across to the house, which was a huge white mansion, the very sight of which made her feel awkward. She wondered how Leo would cope. In his shabby jeans and scuffed trainers he looked as out of place as she felt, although it didn’t seem to bother him.

The sound of eager shrieks made Leo look up, and the next moment he was engulfed by the Hanworth family.

Delia, Barton’s wife, was colourful, exuberant, and looked ten years younger than her true age. She and Barton had three children, two daughters, Carrie and Billie, younger versions of their mother, plus Jack, a studious son who seemed to live in a dream world, semi-detached from the rest of the family.

The household was completed by Paul, or Paulie as Delia insisted on calling him. He was her son by an earlier marriage, and the apple of her eye. She spoiled him absurdly, to the groaning exasperation of everyone else.

Paulie greeted Leo as a kindred spirit, slapping him on the back and predicting ‘great times’ together, which made Leo feel like groaning too. Paulie was in his late twenties, good-looking in a fleshy, superficial way, but self-indulgence was already blurring his features. He was a businessman in his own estimation, but his ‘business’ consisted of an internet company, his fifth, which was rapidly failing, as the other four had failed.

Barton had bailed him out, time and again, always swearing that this time was the last, and always yielding to Delia’s entreaties for ‘just one more’.

But just now the atmosphere was genial. Paulie, on his best behaviour, had recognised Selena.

‘I’ve seen you riding in the rodeo at—’ he rattled off a list of names. ‘Seen you win, too.’

Selena relaxed, managing a smile.

‘I don’t win much,’ she admitted. ‘But enough to keep going.’

‘You’re a star,’ Paulie said, taking her hand and pumping it up and down between his two. ‘It surely is an honour to meet you.’

If Selena felt the same she disguised it successfully. There was something about Paulie that laid a disagreeable sheen even over his attempts to flatter. She thanked him and withdrew her hand, fighting the temptation to rub it on her jeans. Paulie had a clammy palm.

‘Your room is ready now,’ Delia said kindly. ‘The girls will show you upstairs.’

Carrie and Billie immediately took charge of Selena, drawing her up the huge staircase before she had time to protest. Paulie followed, impossible to shake off, and by the time they reached the best guest bedroom he’d contrived to get in front and throw open the door.

‘Only the best for our famous guest,’ he carolled facetiously.

Since Selena wasn’t famous, and knew it, this only made her look at him askance. Already she could see a neon sign over Paulie’s head, reading ‘Trouble’. She was glad when Carrie eased her brother out of the room.

She looked around her, made even more uneasy by the magnificence. The large room had been decorated in pink, mauve and white, Delia’s favourite colours. The carpet was a delicate pink that made Selena check her boots for mud. The curtains were pink and mauve brocade and the huge four-poster bed was hung with fine white net curtains. It could have slept four, she thought, testing the mattress gingerly. It was so soft and springy that she took a step back. How did anyone sleep on that without bouncing off?

She took a tour of the room, wondering if they’d put her in the wrong place. Perhaps the Queen of England would step out of the wardrobe and say this was really her room.

The bathroom was equally alarming, being frilly and feminine, with a tub shaped like a huge seashell. If there was one thing Selena knew she wasn’t, it was frilly and feminine. She would have preferred a shower, but the cap wasn’t quite big enough to protect the dressing on her forehead, so she ran a bath.

When it was just right she climbed in gingerly, relishing the comfort of sinking into the hot water and feeling it soothe her bruises. She sorted her way through the profusion of soaps until she found the least heavily perfumed and began to lather herself with it. Gradually the turmoil of the day slipped away from her. Maybe there was something to be said for soft living after all. Not much, but something.

A row of glass jars stood along a shelf just above the bath, each filled with crystals of a different colour. Curious, she took one down, unscrewed the top and gagged at the aroma, which was even more overpowering than the soap. Gasping, she hastened to replace the top, but her fingers were too slippery to grip properly and the jar slipped straight through them, down into the water and crashed against the bath with an ominous splintering sound. The shock, coming on top of everything else, surprised a yell from her.

Leo, settling into his own room across the hall, was undressing for a shower and had just stripped off his shirt when he heard the yell and paused. Stepping out into the corridor, he stopped again, listening. Silence. Then, from behind Selena’s door came a despairing voice.

‘Oh no! What am I going to do?’

He knocked on her door. ‘Hello? Are you all right?’

Her voice reached him faintly. ‘Not really.’

He pushed open the door, but could see nobody inside.

‘Hello?’

‘In here.’ Now he could tell that she was in the bathroom, and he approached the open door gingerly, trying not to gasp from the sweet, powerful aroma that surged out and surrounded his head like a cloud.

‘Is it all right for me to come in?’ he asked.

‘I’m stuck here forever if you don’t.’

Moving cautiously he looked around the door to the great pink shell. Selena was in the middle of it, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him with frantic eyes.

‘I smashed a jar of crystals,’ she said desperately.

He looked around. ‘Where?’

‘In the bath. There’s broken glass everywhere under the water, but I can’t see where it is. I daren’t move.’

‘OK, don’t panic.’ He found a white towel and handed it to her, averting his eyes as she reached for it.

When she’d covered her top she said, ‘You can look. I’m decent—ish.’

‘Can you reach the plug?’

‘Not without stretching.’

‘Then I’ll do it. Don’t move. Just tell me where it is.’

‘Between my feet.’

Gingerly he slid his fingers down the inner surface of the bath, trying to find the plug without touching her, an almost impossible task. At last he found it and managed to ease it open so that the bath could start draining.

‘When the water’s gone right down I can start to remove the glass,’ he said.

At last it came into view, ugly, sharp pieces, dangerously close to her body. He began to pick them out one by one. It was a long process because the jar had smashed into dozens of fragments, and the movement of the water meant that as he cleared one place of tiny, threatening shards, it filled up again with others. Gradually the level dropped, and more of her came into view, which gave him another problem…

‘I’m trying not to look, but I really do need to see what I’m doing,’ he said desperately.

‘Do what you have to,’ she agreed.

He took a deep breath. The towel could only cover so much of her, and the water was vanishing fast.

‘I’ve shifted all I can,’ Leo said at last. ‘You’ve got to get out by only moving upward, not sideways.’

‘But how can I? I shall have to shift around to get my balance, and hold onto something.’

‘You hold onto me.’ He leaned down. ‘Put your arms around my neck.’

She did so, and the towel immediately slithered away.

‘Forget it,’ Leo said. ‘I’m trying to be a gentleman, but would you rather be safe or modest?’

‘Safe,’ she said at once. ‘Let’s go.’

She gripped her hands behind his neck and felt his hands on her waist. They were big hands, and they almost encompassed her tiny span. Slowly he straightened up, drawing her with him. She was pressed right against him now, trying not to be too conscious of her bare breasts against his chest, and the way the light covering of hair tickled her.

A bit more, a bit more. Inch by inch they were managing it. The last of the water vanished, revealing a very nasty piece of glass that he’d missed. Selena looked down, horrified, then tried to kick it away.

It was a fatal error. The next moment her foot had slithered from under her and she was falling. But Leo tightened one arm about her, and with the other he reached down, grabbed her behind, and stepped away so fast that he was caught off balance. He staggered back out of the bathroom and for several wild steps he fought to stay upright. But it was no good. The next moment he was on his back on the plush pink carpet, with Selena sprawled naked on top of him.

‘Oh God!’ she shivered, clinging onto him and forgetting about modesty, about everything except that wicked looking spike.

He held on to her, breathing hard, trying to regain his equilibrium which was whirling away into space, among the stars and planets, wild, glorious, dizzying. The feel of her on top of him was both scary and wonderful, and he knew he had to put a stop to it, fast.

Then his blood froze at an ominous sound.

A female giggle. Two female giggles. Right outside the door.

‘Selena,’ came Carrie’s voice. ‘Can we come in?’

‘No!’ Selena’s voice rose to a yelp and she jumped up. She just made it to the door in time, reaching out to turn the key.

There wasn’t one. The door didn’t lock.

Disaster!

‘Don’t come in, I’m not decent,’ she called, putting her back against the door and pushing. ‘I’ll be down in a minute. Please tell your mom thank you, for me.’

To their relief the voices faded away.

Leo pulled himself together, wondering how much more he could stand. If holding her against him on the floor hadn’t destroyed his nervous system, watching her streak across the room like a gazelle had nearly finished him off.

But it had been useful in ascertaining one thing.

His rescue had been successful. There wasn’t a scratch on her anywhere.

She dashed into the bathroom and returned in a towelling robe, which mercifully enveloped her.

‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘You saved me from something very nasty.’

He’d gotten to his feet. ‘I’d better go before both our reputations are ruined.’

‘What am I going to say to Mrs Hanworth?’

‘Leave that to me. I don’t think you should go downstairs at all. Go to bed. That’s an order.’

He checked the corridor and was relieved to find it empty. But no sooner had he stepped out than Carrie and Billie appeared, almost as though they’d been hiding around the corner.

‘Hi Leo! Everything OK?’

‘Not quite,’ he said, horribly conscious that he was only half dressed, and trying not to go red. ‘Selena dropped one of the glass jars into the bath, while she was in it, and it smashed.’

‘Poor Selena! Is she still trapped in there?’

‘No, I got her out, and she’s safe,’ he said, wishing the earth would swallow him up. ‘I promised her I’d tell your mom about the jar. I’ll do that—er—just as soon as I’ve put on a shirt.’

He got into his room as fast as he could, trying not to hear two teenage girls snickering significantly. It was a sound calculated to freeze a man’s blood.

Delia reacted just as Leo had known she would, with sympathy and kindness.

‘What’s a jar?’ she said. ‘I’ll go and make sure she’s all right.’

She was back in a few minutes, sweeping into the kitchen to order food to be taken upstairs to Selena. She seemed to have spoken to her daughters in the meantime, for her attitude to Leo had developed a tinge of roguishness.

‘I gather you played knight in shining armour. And who could blame you? She’s a very nice-looking girl.’

‘Delia, I swear I never met her before today.’

Fatal mistake. Delia smiled knowingly. ‘You Italians are so dashing and romantic, never missing a chance with the ladies.’

‘What are those wonderful smells coming from the kitchen?’ he asked desperately, ‘because you are looking at a starving man.’

Mercifully food was allowed to drive out all other topics of conversation, and the only other person who raised the matter was Paulie, who nudged Leo aside and said much the same as his mother, except that he made it sound vulgar and offensive. When Leo had smilingly explained to Paulie all the unpleasant things he would do to his person if he ever mentioned it again, the matter was allowed to drop.

While he dressed for the barbecue Leo tried to get his own reactions in perspective. Despite her prickly defensiveness, for which he reckoned nobody could blame her, Selena was oddly appealing. But there wasn’t, at first glance, anything special about her. Even holding her naked body shouldn’t have been a big deal, since she lacked the buxomness he preferred in women.

Yet, mysteriously, something about her had got to him. He still couldn’t figure out what, but the sight of Paulie smacking his fat lips over what he thought had gone on in her room had filled him with rage. Leo, the most amiable of men, had only been restrained from violence by recalling that this was his hostess’s son.

Guests were starting to arrive, heading for the field where the big party was taking place, the same field where last night’s big party had taken place, and where there would be another one just as soon as someone could think of an excuse. Leo watched it from his window, grinning, anticipating the evening.

‘Ready for a great time?’ Barton hollered as Leo came down the stairs.

‘I’m always ready for that,’ Leo said, truthfully. ‘But can we call in at the stables first?’

‘Sure, if you want. But Leo, you don’t have to worry. She’s going to be all right.’

‘Elliot’s a he.’

‘It wasn’t Elliot I was meaning,’ Barton said, seeming to speak to nobody in particular.

The anti-inflammatory drug was evidently taking effect, and Elliot seemed contented. The way to the barbecue field led past Barton’s garage, and through the open door Leo could see Selena’s van, and the remains of the horse trailer.

‘That’s had its day,’ Barton mused. ‘The wonder is, how it lasted so long.’

Leo climbed into the van. What he saw there made him grow very still.

He thought of himself as a man who could cope with tough living, but the inside of her home shocked him. Everything was the barest and meanest possible. There was a couch just long enough for her to sleep, a tiny stove, a minute washing area. The best that could be said for the place was that it was spotlessly clean.

His own experiences of living rough, he realised, had been those of a rich man, playing with a kind of toy. However harsh the conditions, he could always return to a comfortable life when he got bored with playing. But for her there was no escape. This was her reality.

What could have made her choose the life of a wanderer, which seemed to offer her so little?

One thing was becoming horribly clear. The accident had robbed her of almost everything she had.

After that he had no chance to think gloomy thoughts. Texas hospitality opened its arms to him, and he rushed into them, enjoying every moment, and telling himself he’d have time to be exhausted later. What with plentiful food and drink, music and pretty girls to dance with, several hours slipped happily away.

When he could pause for breath he wondered how Selena was fixed? Had she eaten the supper Delia sent up, and was she hungry again?

He piled a plate high with steak and potatoes, tucked some cans of beer under his arm and headed for the house. But some instinct made him check the stables—just in case. As he’d half expected, Selena was there, leaning on the door of Elliot’s stall, just watching him contentedly.

‘How is he?’ Leo asked, looking in.

She jumped up. ‘He’s better. He’s calmed down a lot.’

She was better too, he could see that. Her cheeks had colour and her eyes were bright. He raised the plate to show her and she eyed the steak hungrily.

‘That for me?’

‘Well, it sure as hell isn’t for Elliot. Come on out.’

He found a solid bale of hay and they sat down together. He handed her a beer and she tipped her head back to take most of it in one go.

‘Oh, that was good!’ she sighed.

‘Well, there’s plenty more out there,’ he said, indicating the door with his head. ‘In fact there’s plenty of steaks too. Why not come out and join the party?’

‘Thanks, but I won’t.’

‘Still not feeling up to partying?’

‘No, I’m better. I slept well. It’s just—all those people, looking at me and thinking my voice isn’t right, and—everything isn’t right.’

‘Who says you’re not right?’

‘I do. This house—everything—it gives me the heebie-jeebies.’

‘You’ve never been in a house like that before?’

‘Oh, sure, plenty of times. Just not through the front door. I’ve worked in places like this, mopping floors, cleaning up in the kitchen, anything that was going. Mind you, I preferred a job in the stable.’

‘When was this? You talk like you were ancient, but you can’t be more than forty.’

‘More than—?’ She saw the wicked gleam in his eyes, and laughed. ‘I’d thump you if you weren’t sitting between me and the beer.’

‘That’s what I like,’ he said, handing her another can. ‘A woman with a sense of priorities. So, not forty then?’

‘I’m twenty-six.’

‘And when was all this ancient history?’

‘I’ve been looking after myself since I was fourteen.’

‘Shouldn’t you have been at school?’

Another shrug. ‘I suppose.’

‘What happened to your parents?’

After a few moment’s silence she said, ‘I was raised in a home, several actually.’