dry-but she saw his slight reaction to it and her confidence grew.
'You-you disturb me.'
'I'm flattered, cara.' He sounded amused. 'And you, I need hardly
say, would disturb any red-blooded male.'
'Do you include yourself in that category?' she asked impudently.
'Need you ask?' He was drawling again.
She shrugged. 'I'm intrigued, that's all. I understood that it was
because blue blood flows exclusively in the veins of the Vallone
family that my candidature was unwelcome.'
She'd drawn a bow at a venture, but she knew she'd hit the target.
She sent him a demure glance and saw that he was laughing openly.
'Poor Mario,' he said. 'He never stood a chance, did he? And where
is he? Skulking in the bedroom perhaps, afraid to show himself?'
'Oh, no.' She was startled by the unexpectedness of the question and
came close to faltering. Naturally he would expect her to know
Mario's whereabouts, but could she manage to stall him on that as
well? 'I-I haven't seen him today.'
He was no longer laughing, his brows drawn together in a dark
frown.
'That is curious. I missed him at the office and was told that he was
meeting you here.'
'Well,' she shrugged, 'perhaps he changed his mind.' She walked
away and began to fiddle aimlessly with the roses. 'Perhaps he's
changed his mind about everything and you don't have to worry
anymore. Have you considered that, signore?'
'I doubt it,' he said drily. 'For one thing, you don't find the prospect
nearly worrying enough, cara. No woman sees a potential
meal-ticket vanishing without making at least some effort to recover
it. If you had any fears of Mario's deserting you, then you'd have
come to terms with me long ago.'
She pretended to yawn. 'Well, the meal-ticket is elsewhere just
now, signore. Which is a pity really, because it's past time for
dinner, and I'm starving-so if you'd excuse me ...'
He consulted his watch. It was platinum, she noticed, and so were
the elegant links in the cuffs of his silk shirt.
'Go and pretty yourself, cara,' he said almost brusquely. 'I'll take
you to dinner.'
Juliet was frankly taken aback. She hadn't intended him to react like
that. The strain of this play-acting was beginning to tell on her, and
she had hoped he would take the hint and leave.
'But you don't want to dine with me,' she said uncertainly. It was
Juliet's peaking now, all the assumed bravado dropping from her
like a cloak.
'I didn't, it's true, but I find it an idea that gains in appeal with each
minute that passes.' His lips curled in apparent self-derision. 'Hurry
and dress, bella mia, while I phone and book a table for us.'
She was about to protest again, but she hesitated. He was going to
find it acutely suspicious, if, having led him on as she had to admit
she had been doing, she now displayed a genuine reluctance to be
in his company.
She groaned inwardly. She was hungry all right. She'd made do
with a simple lunch of fruit, but the thought of another couple of
hours in his company, this time in the. secluded intimacy of a
restaurant, was calculated to destroy her appetite. Jan would have
carried the whole thing off without a tremor-she'd wanted after all
to beard the lion in his den, but she-all she wanted was some
peace. She had no real confidence that she would be able to
continue with her self-imposed charade over the next few days. If
she had to, she would leave the flat and trust to luck that she would
find a cheap hotel somewhere, and that Santino Vallone wasn't
having her watched, a course of action she was certain would not
be beyond him.
She gave him a cautious glance beneath her lashes. That terrifying
anger she had glimpsed seemed to have subsided for the moment,
but she sensed that it was still there just beneath the surface and she
had no wish to unleash it again.
She managed a breathless little laugh. 'Well, thank you, signore.
But I wonder what the gossip columnists will make of you dining
tête-à-tête with your future sister-in-law?'
He had the telephone receiver in his hand and was in the act of
dialling, but he turned slightly and looked at her over his shoulder.
'I imagine they'll draw the appropriate conclusions,' he said softly.
'And allow me to remind you yet again, Janina mia, that you have
no future as my sister-in-law.'
He turned his attention back to his telephone call and Juliet fled.
Once in the bedroom, she gave a swift glance along the brief line of
clothes hanging in her section of the wardrobes, and shook her
head. They were all strictly Juliet dresses, and none of them
appropriate for the role she was playing. She gave a longing glance
at one new dress she had brought for this holiday-white with
bands of delicate Swiss embroidery, cut in an Empire style which
showed off her slenderness and gave her an air of fragility.
But for an evening in a smart Rome restaurant with Santino
Vallone, fragility was the last effect she wanted to achieve. She
pushed the sliding door along and stared at the racks of clothes
belonging to Jan. There was bound to be something here that she
could use. She wondered where Santino was taking her, and hoped
fervently that it would not be a restaurant where Jan was known.
She couldn't hope to keep the deception going with someone who
would recognise Jan on sight, although she supposed there was
enough of a superficial resemblance to pass at a distance; They
were about the same height and build and their colouring was
similar, and she supposed this was why Santino Vallone had not
questioned her identity. He had expected to meet a red-haired
English girl at the apartment, and his expectations had been
fulfilled, although not quite in the way he thought.
She seized a dress at random and held it against herself, looking at
her reflection in the full-length mirror. It was black and
ankle-length, the skirt of a silky crepe, and the long-sleeved bodice
in exquisite black lace. It was far more décolleté than anything she
had ever worn, but she just had to hope it would give her the air of
sophistication that she needed.
Her hair was another problem. Although it was almost dry again, it
would not be appropriate to tie it back in her usual simple style, and
she supposed the most sensible thing to do would be to twist it into
a smooth knot at the nape of her neck. Nor could she hope to
imitate Jan's expertise with cosmetics, just make sparing use of
eyeshadow to accentuate the green in her eyes, and relieve some of
the pallor in her cheeks with blusher. She was not dissatisfied with
the result when she had finished, and her hairstyle was very
becoming, she thought, showing off her small ears and the delicate
line of her jaw. No matter how tremulous she might feel, outwardly
she looked poised and in control of the situation, and that was as
much as she could hope for. She gave herself one last look and
turned to reach for her dress which she had left lying across the
bed.
From the doorway, Santino said coolly, 'Charming. My respect for
Mario's judgment, if not for his common sense, increases by leaps
and bounds.'
Juliet couldn't suppress the startled cry that rose to her lips. All she
was aware of were his eyes appraising her, as she stood there
defenceless in the lacy black waist slip, and the half-cup bra which
lifted her rounded breasts without covering them. Her face flamed
and she snatched up the dress, holding it in front of her.
'How dare you walk in without knocking!'
His brows rose. 'Why the pretence at modesty, cara? You've worn
more revealing garments every day, I'm certain, on that catwalk at
Di Lorenzo with more eyes upon you than mine, not to mention that
more private performance that I was privileged to glimpse at the
Contessa Leontana's party a few months ago.'
She was too embarrassed to heed his words closely. She knew that
Jan would have outstared him, and it was true that girls wore less
than she had on now every day on the beaches of the Mediterranean
and the Adriatic, and if she herself had been sunbathing in a bikini
she could probably have borne his scrutiny. But this was not a
beach, it was a bedroom, and she'd never been in this kind of
situation half-clothed with a man before. It might be utterly
ridiculous in this day and age, but it was true. In some ways she
was as old-fashioned as Mim herself.
She said with as much ice as she could manage, 'I prefer to keep my
private and my professional lives strictly apart, if you don't mind,
signore. Perhaps you'd be good enough to return to the salotto and
wait for me there.'
He stared at her for a moment, frowning a little as if she had
bewildered him, then he gave a low laugh and turned away.
Well, hurry then,' he tossed at her. 'You surely don't take this long
to change at Di Lorenzo?'
Her hands were shaking so much she could hardly adjust the zip of
the dress, but at last she was ready. She bit her lip as she saw for
the first time just how revealing the bodice really was, but she told
herself that it was too late to change again, and anyway it was