Best Friend to Wife and Mother?

‘Was that what you did?’ she asked him, momentarily distracted from her own self-induced catastrophe. ‘The decent thing? When you married the wrong person for the wrong reasons?’

A muscle bunched in his jaw. ‘Something like that. Are you going to drink this tea or not?’

She took the mug that he was holding out to her, cradled it in both hands and sighed shakily.

‘You OK now?’

She nodded. She was, she realised. Just about, so long as she didn’t have to make any more decisions, because clearly she was unqualified in that department. She sipped her tea, lifted her head and rested it back against the wall with another shaky little sigh. ‘I will be. I don’t know; I just feel—I can’t explain—as if I can’t trust myself any more. I don’t know who I am, and I thought I knew. Does that make sense, Leo?’

‘Absolutely. Been there, done that, worn out the T-shirt.’

She turned to him, searching his face and finding only kindness and concern. No reproach. No disappointment in her. Just Leo, doing what he always did, getting her out of the mess she’d got herself into.

Again.

‘Leo, will you get me out of here?’ she asked unevenly. ‘I can’t stay here, not with all this...’

‘Of course I will. That’s what I’m here for.’

‘To rescue me? Poor you. I bet you thought you were done with all that at last.’

‘What, me? Change the habits of a lifetime?’ he teased, and she had to laugh, even though it wasn’t really remotely funny.

She glanced down at herself, then at him. He’d abandoned the tailcoat, loosened the rose-pink cravat which showed off his olive skin to perfection, and turned back the cuffs on his immaculate white shirt to reveal strong wrists above hands criss-crossed with fine white scars. Chef’s hands, he called them, but the scars didn’t detract from his appeal, not in any way. He’d been fighting girls off with a stick since he’d hit puberty, and the scars hadn’t put them off at all.

She managed a small smile. ‘We might have to change first, before we go.’

His lips quirked. ‘You think? I thought I looked rather good like this.’

So did she, but then she thought he looked good in anything.

‘You do, but if the press catch a glimpse of us, they’ll think the nation’s favourite celebrity chef’s secretly tied the knot again,’ she said, her mouth on autopilot, and his face clouded.

‘Yeah, well, it’ll be a cold day in hell before that ever happens,’ he said tightly, and she could have kicked herself for blundering all over such a sensitive area. She closed her eyes and let out an anguished sigh.

‘Oh, God, Leo, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that—’

‘It’s OK, it doesn’t matter, and you’re quite right. I don’t need that sort of publicity, and neither do you.’ He smiled fleetingly, then looked away again. ‘So, anywhere in particular you want to go?’

‘I don’t know. Got any ideas?’

He shrugged. ‘Not really. My house is still crawling with builders, and I have to fly to Tuscany tomorrow on business.’

‘Oh.’ Her heart sank at the thought of him going, and she felt her smile slip. ‘I don’t suppose you want to smuggle me out there in your luggage?’ she joked weakly, and propped up her wavering smile. ‘I promise not to be a nuisance.’

‘How many times have I heard you say that?’ he murmured drily, and she felt a wash of guilt flood over her.

He was right—she was always imposing on him, getting him to extract her from one mess or another. Or she had done, back in the days when they really had been best friends. And that was years ago.

She forced herself to ease away from him, to stop leaning on him, both metaphorically and physically. Time to get out her big girl pants and put their friendship on a more equal and adult footing.

She scraped up the last smile in the bottom of the bucket and plastered it on her face.

‘I’m sorry, I was only joking. I know you can’t. Don’t worry about me, Leo, I’ll be all right. It’s my mess, I’ll clear it up.’

Somehow...

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_cfaa269b-929b-510d-8be5-d374ff19b8d1)

HE COULDN’T DO IT.

He couldn’t desert her when her life had just turned upside down—and anyway, it might well be the perfect solution for both of them.

He’d been worrying about leaving tomorrow and abandoning her with the repercussions of all this, worrying about how he was going to juggle his tiny daughter and business meetings, and here was the answer, on a plate. Unless...

He studied her thoughtfully, searching her face for clues. ‘Were you joking about coming with me? Because if not, it could be a great idea. Not the smuggling, obviously, but if you did it could solve both our problems.’

A tiny frown appeared. ‘You’ve got a problem?’

He nodded. ‘Sort of. I’ve got meetings to go to, and business and babies don’t mix. Normally I’d leave Ella behind with my parents, but this is going to be for several days and it’s not fair on them at their age, especially on top of the wedding—and don’t say it,’ he added, pressing a finger lightly on her lips to stifle the apology he knew was coming.

She took hold of his hand and moved it away. ‘Why not, since it’s true? It is my fault, and they’ve gone to so much trouble—’

He pulled his hand back and placed it firmly over her mouth to silence her before she got back onto that again.

‘I don’t want to argue, Amy. Hear me out. Please?’

She nodded, and he lowered his hand and carried on. ‘I like to be there for Ella every day, even if it’s only for part of it, even if it means dragging her around with me. It’s the only way I’ve been able to look after her and my business, and it’s a precarious balance that so far seems to be working. I don’t want to upset that balance, abandon her for days and nights on end—and anyway, shortly after I get back I start filming the next TV series for eight weeks or so, and I’m going to need my parents’ goodwill for that. If you would come to Italy with us and look after her just while I’m in the meetings, it would be amazingly helpful.’

Amy eyed him thoughtfully. ‘Really? You mean it? I was only joking, really. I didn’t expect you to say yes. I was just trying to—I don’t know. Make light of it, really. I don’t want to be a burden to you.’

‘Absolutely I mean it, and you wouldn’t be a burden. Not at all. You’d be a real help. I’m trying to set up a contract with a family there to supply our restaurants. I tasted some of their products at a trade fair, and I was really impressed. I want to see how they operate, taste the whole range, negotiate the price and see if we can strike a deal. And doing all that with Ella on my hip really won’t work.’

She laughed a little wryly. ‘No, I can see that. Not exactly professional, and not really fair on her, either.’

‘No, it isn’t, and she’s my top priority. If necessary, I’d cut the trip short rather than compromise my relationship with her, but I don’t want to have to do that, because this is a really great business opportunity and it could be important for her future as well as mine.

‘So—will you come? You’ll have lots of free time to take photos, and it’s beautiful at this time of year. You can chill out away from all this, get some thinking time, clear your head, work out what you’re going to do next. Maybe work on a portfolio of images, if that’s where you think you’re going.’

It sounded tempting. Very tempting, and she could see that he quite genuinely needed her help. He wasn’t just making it up—and anyway, even if he was, did she have a better choice? No. And to stay here another minute was unthinkable.

She could hear the sounds of people thronging outside in the garden—not their garden, but his parents’ garden next door, where the marquee had been set up for the reception.

Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes locked on his. ‘Oh, Leo! All that food...!’

She was swamped with guilt, but he shook his head briskly, brushing it aside as if it was nothing. Which it wasn’t, far from it.

‘It’s not wasted. There are lots of people there to eat it, it’s fine.’