A Night of Living Dangerously(56)
He covered his face with his hands.
His phone rang. “Buon giorno, darling,” Olivia said cheerfully. “Now you’re rid of your mistake, I want to ask you to lunch. To celebrate.”
“I’m not divorced yet,” he said in a low voice.
“Come to lunch anyway. I don’t mind.”
Her low, smug voice jarred him. Swiveling in his chair, he turned towards the window, towards the view of the city and hazy blue sky. Where was Lilley? Was she with another man? He remembered the way Vladimir Xendzov had looked at her. Remembered Jeremy Wakefield’s awed face when he saw her in the red dress.
Who was the father of her baby?
I slept with a different man, just like you said. And I loved him.
His lips twisted. That meant she’d lied when she’d told Alessandro she loved him. Another lie to add to the pile.
Through the window, he saw a limo park at the gate of his palazzo. A driver got out of the limo, opening the door for a well-dressed, dark-haired man, who went to talk to the security guard. Frowning, Alessandro sat up straight, narrowing his eyes, trying to see the man’s face.
Then he did. And he rose to his feet with a half-strangled curse.
“Darling, what’s wrong?” Olivia asked. “What is it?”
“Someone’s here,” he said curtly. “I have to go.”
“Who could possibly pull you off the phone with me?”
“Théo St. Raphaël.”
“What?” Olivia’s voice was suddenly sharp. “You don’t need to see him. Wait at your house, I’ll pick you up and take you for lunch—”
“Sorry,” he said shortly, and he hung up, tossing his phone on his desk. As he ran down the stairs, his blood was pounding for battle. His hands were clenched into fists, ready for a fight, any fight. Brushing past his bewildered housekeeper, he went into the courtyard.#p#分页标题#e#
“Let him in,” Alessandro ordered his guard in Italian. Théo St. Raphaël came through the gate, looking polished and powerful in a suit and yellow tie, holding a leather briefcase. He looked calm, cool and under control, all things Alessandro hadn’t felt for a week. The hot Italian sun shone down on his scrubby T-shirt and jeans as Alessandro stalked through the dusty courtyard to finally meet his rival.
“What the hell do you want?” he demanded. “Come to gloat?”
Théo St. Raphaël stared at him as if he were insane. “Gloat?”
“I bet you and—” he still couldn’t say her name out loud “—your cousin had a good laugh after she helped you steal the Mexico City deal. It was clever for her to lure me into giving information in bed!”
In a swift movement, St. Raphaël leapt five steps across the courtyard in a flutter of dust and punched Alessandro solidly across the jaw.
“That’s for Lilley,” he said, panting as he rubbed his wrist. “Damn you.”
It would have knocked a lesser man to the ground. As it was, Alessandro felt the impact of the blow all the way to his knees.
His own fist flew back on instinct. Then he straightened, rubbing his jaw. “At least you have the decency to attack me to my face, St. Raphaël,” he said. “Rather than stabbing me in the back.”
“Lilley kept one small secret from you. One.”
“Small?” Alessandro said incredulously. “She told you my plans for the Mexico City deal! Convinced me to marry her when she was in love with another man! And worst of all …” He cut himself off, and his voice hardened. “Why are you here? What more could she possibly want?”
The Frenchman glared at him. “In your office.”
Alessandro stiffened, then realized his security guard was watching with interest, as were the paparazzi who’d been parked across the street ever since the scandalous night of their reception. He set his jaw. “Fine.”
Turning on his heel, he led the count silently into the palazzo.
“I’m here to collect Lilley’s things,” St. Raphaël informed him once they reached his study. “Her tools. Her mother’s quilt.”
“And the clothes I bought her?”
“She doesn’t want them.”
Alessandro sank into his office chair, feeling weary. He swiveled towards the window. He’d nearly thrown her most precious belongings away in his rage after she’d disappeared, but he hadn’t been able to do it. The tools and quilt were too much a part of what he’d loved about her. “It’s boxed up by the front door. Help yourself.” He glared at the other man. “I’ll be glad to get it all out of here.”