—Romantic Times Mothers-To-Be(29)

“But I learnt a lot from Margarita,” Rico murmured with satire.

Nothing good, Bella thought. He didn’t trust women. He was always looking for ulterior motives. He didn’t believe in permanence. And marriage for him had been a destructive trap from which he had gained nothing. But one truth he had spoken. He had said that he wasn’t bitter and on that count she believed him. He had come to terms with that part of his past.

Why, then, did she sense that there was a whole lot missing from what he was telling her? He had glossed over the subject of the child. But then he wasn’t that fussed about kids anyway, was he? In a marriage as bad as that, and as short-lived, it might well have been a relief not to be linked to his ex-wife by a tie as unbreakable as that of a child. “What did you learn?”

He settled back on the lush meadow grass and looked down at her, scanning her vibrant face with glittering dark eyes.

“That I don’t have to get married to enjoy myself. That what we have here, now, is far more exciting than being welded together by an empty contract full of promises destined to be broken. If we stay together it will be a free and uncomplicated choice—’ ” Nothing’s that uncomplicated. “

“Trust me … I trust you,” he breathed, lowering his dark head.

“I

know you took a risk on me. I know this wasn’t your dream. This has to be the first time in my life that a woman hasn’t wanted anything from me but myself. “

“And I’m only after your body, so you can feel safe.” With an appreciative grin he slid a hard thigh between hers, pinning her in place, studying her slumbrously from beneath the thick veil of his black lashes.

“When you look at me like that you fill me with uncontrollable lust, gatita mia.”

“But then that doesn’t take much,” she muttered, dizzily drowning in his intent gaze as he shifted fluidly against her, letting her feel the hard thrust of his arousal.

Bella was down at the stable yard one morning when she was told that a visitor was waiting to see her. Returning to the house, she stilled in the doorway of her studio, taut with disbelief at the sight of a complete stranger calmly leafing through her paintings.

“What are you doing?” she demanded sharply.

“Who are you?”

The man straightened, seemingly unaware of his offence, and crossed the room. He extended a polite hand.

“Dai Matheison … Rico asked me to pay you a visit next time I was in the area.”

Rico had asked him? Bella’s face froze.

“The Matheison Gallery, right?” she murmured, mentioning the prestigious gallery with distinct coolness.

“Try not to hold it against me.” Shrewd blue eyes read her taut facial muscles.

“Rico didn’t tell me you were coming.” She wanted to leap up and down with sheer rage and embarrassment. How dared Rico humiliate her like this? Unknown artists did not receive personal visits from the owner of the Matheison Gallery.

“Between you, me and the gate post,” Dai Matheison said drily,

“I

didn’t want to. But if what I have so far managed to see is a sample of your work Rico did us both a favour. I’m doing an exhibition in late September. I’m willing to include you if you’re interested. “

Her teeth gritted.

“Thank you but I don’t thi–’ ” Rico may be a friend, but don’t insult me by assuming that I would issue such an invitation on that basis alone,” he cut in smoothly.

“If I didn’t think you were worthy of my gallery’s reputation, Miss Jennings, God Himself would not persuade me otherwise.”

Bella reddened, sharply disconcerted.

“I—’

He handed her a card.

“Call me if you’re interested and don’t leave it too late. I need an answer soon.”

“Mr Matheison, I’m sorry—’ ” Not half as sorry as I am. ” He smiled with rueful amusement. ” I was looking forward to shooting Rico down in flames. But after what I’ve seen here I shall have to grit my teeth and say, Thank you for the tip. You’re even more talented than he said you were. “

He was gone before she could gather her wits again. In one explosive stride she reached the nearest phone and dialled Rico’s private number.

“Did you remember to call the caterers?” he asked straight off, reminding her about the party he was planning to hold in a fortnight’s time.

“Yes. Dai Matheison has just been here!” There was a moment of silence. “And?” he responded calmly.

“And nothing, Rico! How dare you do that to me?”

“I have other contacts.”



“Stuff your bloody contacts!” she hissed.

“If you know, he’s willing to show me, but that’s not the point—’ ” That was exactly the point,” Rico interrupted with un hidden satisfaction.

“You had no right to interfere.”

“You and your giant insecurity complex were likely to avoid the issue into the next century,” he informed her.

“So I took care of it for you.”

His lack of remorse only inflamed her more. In all her life she had rarely felt so mortified as Rico had made her feel.

“You humiliated me,” she condemned shakily.

“And if you can’t see that, then there’s not a lot of hope for us!”

“Be brief, Bella,” he sighed, refusing to take her seriously. “I have two diplomats waiting to see me.”

“I make my own breaks. I don’t need you to pull the strings for me.

Dai Matheison didn’t want to come here. He thought he was coming to see your little bimbo’s etchings—’ “Now he knows differently,” Rico returned with exasperated unconcern.

“Tell me, is there a point to this howling melodrama? You should be grateful I had that amount of faith in you. I told you I’d be your patron—’ ” You just can’t accept what I give! ” she accused in stark distress.

“You’re not happy unless you think you’re paying for what I do in bed!”

“Bella, no man in his right mind would pay for this. I’ll call you from Edinburgh.” The assurance was icy cold. The phone went dead.

Throwing herself face down on a sofa, she burst into floods of tears, shocking herself. She felt out of control, desperately hurt, desperately confused.

They had been together for three and a half wonderfully happy weeks.

But sometimes she got scared; sometimes she admitted to herself that temperamentally she was not cut out for a relationship in which she could not say openly, honestly, I love you. She guarded her tongue more and more. It had become harder to keep up the free-and-easy sallies that demanded nothing, asked for no reassurance, never mentioned the future. And all of a sudden Bella knew that she was facing up to the reality of their relationship.

Rico didn’t want any more from her. He wanted her passion, not her love. She felt like somebody squeezed into a box that was becoming suffocating. Holding her emotions back didn’t come naturally to her.

The longer she held them in, the more dangerous they felt: On the surface everything was fine but underneath she was always waiting for the ice to crack and plunge her into the icy water of disaster.

She rubbed absently at her aching breasts and then realised what she was doing. What on earth was wrong with the stupid things? Maybe it was the weight she was putting on—too many regular meals, too much rich food. It was time she went to a doctor. But look on the bright side, she reflected; at least you weren’t pregnant. Not that she had had much literal proof to the contrary, but a few tiny spots of that very light period had released her from her growing anxiety.

As she sprang upright a wave of dizziness left her lightheaded.

Stress, she decided. Rico was bad for her nerves. Stupid of her to start a row on the phone, though, especially when he wouldn’t be coming home until tomorrow. But then she had had every right to be angry. Rico had no right to ride roughshod over her wishes. Maybe he was keen to make her more socially acceptable, she thought bitterly.

His live-in partner, the artist . no longer an undiscovered talent.

Face it, she conceded abruptly, you’re really hurt that he didn’t invite you to Edinburgh. It was so ridiculous too. Couldn’t she bear him to be out of her sight for even twenty-four hours? But whereas three and a half weeks ago, feeling as she did now, she would have cheerfully and spontaneously invited herself along the same period had reduced her ability to be that bold. Being careful was inhibiting. She snatched up a piece of charcoal and her sketch-pad and drew a caricature of Rico, complete with grinning bimbo on his arm, festooned in jewellery that resembled chains.

So they had had a fight. Fights were not infrequent, she had to’ admit. How had she ever thought they had nothing in common? Her mouth twisted. Both of them were stubborn, quick-tempered and bossy. But neither of them was prone to holding spite. They were both crazy about horses and they spent an awful lot of time together without ever getting bored. It had been like a honeymoon—two people wrapped up in each other to the exclusion of the rest of the world. She would keep that thought to herself. She was well aware that he was ‘throwing the party to introduce her to his friends.

Late that afternoon Haversham announced a second visitor. Bella looked up from the magazine she had been somewhat sleepily studying and was astonished to see Griff bearing down on her.