The Italian's Price

For a moment Milly couldn’t speak. She was too angry. Her eyes flashed fire and the skin over her high cheekbones pinkened.

Then, reminding herself that Cleo was genuinely concerned for her, she took in a deep breath and offered, ‘You don’t understand the bond between twins. Why should you? But it goes deep, I promise. When we were growing up she always looked out for me. I got bullied at school, so she sorted them out. At home Dad could be…difficult. If I did something wrong like, oh, I don’t know—like breaking something or tramping mud all over the floor—she’d take the blame and just stand there while he came down on her like a ton of bricks, bawled her out and sent her to her room or stopped her pocket money for a month. I love her and I owe her.’

‘Sorry.’ Cleo reached over and patted Milly’s hand. ‘Me and my big mouth! I just don’t like the idea of you disappearing into the wilds of Tuscany with a man who obviously loathes you, or rather who he thinks you are. And what will he do when he finds out you’ve made a fool of him?’

‘He won’t,’ Milly assured her with more conviction than she actually felt. ‘We are identical. Jilly looks more glamorous because she knows how to dress for effect and how to use make-up. There’s stuff of hers here that she left behind. She won’t mind me borrowing it so, initially, he won’t be able to tell the difference.’ She took a healthy gulp of her forgotten wine. ‘While he thinks I’m Jilly and I’m doing what I’m supposed to, she’ll be safe from prosecution. And I guess even companions have time off. I’ll use it to try and find her. She probably just walked out of the job because she got bored with dancing attendance on an old lady and there must have been some misunderstanding about the money. She won’t have any idea that the old lady’s grandson is out for her blood. When I find her she can go back and explain everything and sort the mess out.’

‘And do you think you will? Find her.’

‘I must.’ Milly replied with intensity. ‘At least I know now that she hasn’t come to any harm. When we didn’t hear anything after she left Florence we were desperately worried, though I tried to make light of it to Ma, stressing that Jilly had never been very good at keeping in touch, just a handful of postcards while she’d been working in London and even fewer when she’d been in Florence. But I was out of my head with worry. She hadn’t said what her brilliant new money-making project was and you know how headstrong and reckless she can be—I thought anything could have happened to her.’

She relaxed back into her chair. ‘At least I don’t have to worry on that score. She was safely tucked up with some nice old lady!’

‘Now—’ she sprang to her feet, dredging up every ounce of courage she could find and holding on to it, ignoring the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. ‘Help me go through Jilly’s things and tell me what I should take. We won’t bother with her lingerie; I’ll pack my own underwear and night things. He won’t see that!’

‘If I must.’ Cleo followed her through to the third bedroom that had been set aside for Jilly’s use. ‘Though I’m miffed with you! You were going to be my chief bridesmaid, remember?’

Turning, Milly gave her a swift hug, promising confidently, ‘The wedding’s not for another three months—I’ll be back long before then!’

But hours later, lying sleepless, she wondered. What if Jilly proved impossible to trace? She’d burned her bridges here. She’d phoned Manda at home and told her she’d found another job and wouldn’t be in tomorrow. Had posted a cheque for three months’ rent to her landlord, just about cleaning her account out but at least what few possessions she had would be safe.

And tomorrow she was leaving the country with an intimidating guy who thought she was the dregs of humanity and who would watch her like a hawk to make sure she didn’t run off with the family silver.

She felt, quailing, as if her future no longer belonged to her.

CHAPTER THREE

MILLY KEPT HER aching, sleep-deprived eyes anxiously on the main double doors of the exclusive country hotel where the Italian had obviously spent the night. At least she now knew his name, which was a relief of sorts. When the driver had arrived at the flat, promptly at six, he’d asked, ‘Miss Lee to meet Signor Saracino?’

And now the driver had entered the hotel and would emerge at any moment with Saracino and they would be driven to the airport. Her stomach rolled with dread and if it hadn’t been for her need to find her sister and protect her from the intimidating Italian’s misguided wrath she would have been out of this car like a shot and legging it down the long meandering shrub-bordered drive as if the devil himself was after her.

Which he would be, she sickeningly reminded herself. He hadn’t impressed her as being a man who would give up easily. Give up full stop.

And then she saw him. And turned her head away abruptly, her heart pounding with the fleeting impression of immaculate strength, hard purpose and no mercy whatsoever. Her palms, knotted together on her lap, grew slick and she tried to pull a calming breath into her lungs but it stuck in her throat and almost choked her.

Could she hope to carry this off?

She had to. For Jilly’s sake. She had no other option because if he saw through the deception he would be off after the real Jilly Lee faster than a hot knife through butter.

While the driver stowed Saracino’s small amount of luggage in the boot alongside her bulky and battered suitcase and holdall the Italian merely gave her a cursory glance through the side window before wordlessly settling himself in the front passenger seat.

Relief that she’d been spared the ordeal of having him sit beside her in the rear of the car was sweet and she allowed herself the fleeting luxury of savouring it as the car purred back along the drive towards the main road. He probably couldn’t bring himself to get close to her, or even look at her properly, for fear of contamination, which was a good omen for the future. Couldn’t be better!

The more he kept his distance the safer she would be from discovery and she’d handle being a companion to someone who would naturally expect her to be au fait with the routine of their days somehow. Getting through check in without anyone noticing the slight difference in the name on the ticket and the one on her passport seemed another good omen.

But once they were at the airport, through security, he did look at her. Properly.

Dark eyes took on a cynical glint as they swept her from head to toe and Milly’s stomach rolled over then tightened into a sickening knot. Forcing herself to lift her chin and meet those coldly disparaging eyes, she assured herself firmly that there was no way he could tell he was looking at the wrong twin.

Jilly’s cream-coloured linen suit with its lapel-less fitted jacket and narrow knee-length skirt was classily eye-catching enough to fool him, especially since last night when she’d been wearing her usual boring everyday clothes he’d taken her for her twin—the short no-nonsense hairstyle, lack of make-up—all the things that had always marked her as being different from her sister.

Nevertheless she quaked in Jilly’s bronze kitten heels when he delivered cuttingly, ‘I’m glad to see you’ve toned down your act. Contrition? Somehow I don’t think so. More likely to be sheer pig-headed annoyance at having been traced and hauled back to make reparation for your sins.’

She didn’t know what he meant by that ‘toning down’ bit and watched with sickening fascination as broad shoulders lifted in a slight shrug which denoted that he couldn’t care less either way. And then his strongly sculpted features hardened as he added, ‘You will stick to the fiction that you were called away because of a family crisis, apologise for not calling my grandmother during your absence and continue to please her with your company for as long as you are needed. The money you stole can be taken as future wages; you will receive no further payments from me. Is that understood?’

Dry mouthed, Milly nodded speechlessly, her flagging spirits taking a further nose-dive. She would work for him but would receive no pay!

She couldn’t use her debit card because, after forking out for that advance rent payment her account was as good as bare. And relying on her seldom used credit card was out of the question. She couldn’t afford to get into debt. Penniless apart from a couple of five pound notes and the loose change in her purse, her plan for travelling around on her days off—provided she was allowed such a luxury—to try and trace her twin bit the dust.

Trying not to let her agitation show, to sound as wryly confident as Jilly would have done in similar circumstances, she asked, ‘Will I still have time off? Or will I be locked in my room when your grandmother doesn’t need me, Signor Saracino?’

One strongly arched dark brow lifted in marked contempt as he countered, ‘So formal. I recall a much more intimate mode of address when you came to my bed.’

He swung away as their flight was called, leaving Milly to stagger in his wake, too shell shocked to notice that he hadn’t answered her question.

Cocooned in the luxury of first class, Milly’s mind was racing. A sideways glance showed her his impressive profile bent over a file he’d taken from his briefcase, the pen held in long finely made tanned fingers stabbing notes into the margins of the closely typed pages.

She looked quickly away, her heart fluttering as a strange sensation gathered in the pit of her stomach. Jilly and the Italian had been lovers.

So why had that announcement really shocked her? Her sister had had affairs before.

‘Things’ she’d called them. ‘I’m having this thing with—whoever.’ None of them had lasted longer than a month or two. Jilly had always been restless, easily bored.

Had it been different this time? Had Jilly fallen in love with the savagely handsome Italian? Milly, her cheeks growing greatly overheated, could easily understand that. He was drop-dead-gorgeous, magnetic. Even she, on the receiving end of his icy menace, could recognise that. In the role of sexy seducer he would be dynamite! Totally irresistible!

Had her sister believed Saracino loved her in return? Had she expected marriage? Been sublimely confident of it? That would explain the wild promise that if she played her cards right she would be able to pay Ma back with interest. Everything about him spoke of wealth and standing and it would explain why the lively, flamboyant Jilly had uncharacteristically taken the post of humble companion to an old lady. Just to be near the man she loved and hoped to marry, to be available.

And had she left secretly, nursing a broken heart, when she’d discovered that marrying her was the last thing on his mind?

She wouldn’t know for sure until she found her twin. But the scenario seemed likely given the information on that final postcard from Florence and what she knew of the callous yet handsome man at her side.

Hating to think of her sister in trouble—hounded by this cold-hearted devil because of some mistake—and hurting because he’d broken her heart she gritted her teeth and vowed to find Jilly and clear her name. Her twin had always looked out for her, had taken her part when they’d been growing up.

She was more determined than ever to repay that debt.

Milly woke when he prodded her. ‘Fasten your seat belt; we’re about to land.’

Hating his tone, contempt tinged with searing impatience, she groggily complied. She hadn’t thought she’d ever sleep again, at least not in his spiky company, but last night’s deprivation had caught up with her. Smothering yawns, she felt at a total disadvantage while she followed where he led and it wasn’t until they were well away from Pisa airport and driving along the labyrinthine white Tuscan lanes that he spoke to her, although she had much to her discomfit, been on the receiving end of quite a few penetrating sideways glances she’d felt rather than actually met.

‘For some reason Nonna thinks the sun shines out of you,’ he imparted drily. ‘Since your disappearance she has been fretting. You will do and say nothing to upset her. Is that clear?’

‘Perfectly.’

Again that swift censorious sideways glance. ‘Don’t slouch! You look as though you’re being driven to the gallows! You should be thanking the patron saint of sinners that you’ve got off so lightly.’ His voice tightened. ‘If it weren’t for Nonna’s fondness for you then, believe me, you’d be in handcuffs right now!’

Milly dragged in a deep, shuddering breath. How she stopped herself from reaching over and strangling the hateful man she would never know! A scarlet flush of rage flooded her delicate features. If Jilly were in her place, the object of his withering contempt, she would fall out of love with him faster than she could draw breath.

She couldn’t trust herself to answer his scathing comments without giving the game away but, mindful of his scornful criticism, she sat up straighter.