The Italian's Pregnant Mistress(12)

It was, he told himself, a mark of his self-control that he had managed  to subdue the basic urge for revenge that had blinded him when he had  unexpectedly set eyes on her a few days ago. Not only that, but he could  engage in conversation about her lover. Of course, it helped that he  had Georgina.

He realised guiltily that his fiancée hadn't crossed his mind once since entering the house.

'Sometimes you need to take a few wrong turnings before you find the  right one,' Francesca said, thinking of all the wrong turnings she had  taken in her past.

'Are you referring to us?' Angelo asked silkily and she flushed.

'No, of course not!'

'Then what? Your past? A time before you met me?'

'No,' she said quickly. 'You're right. I was referring to us. I mean,  here you are now, engaged to be married. It's wonderful!' She gave a  high, brittle laugh. 'And Georgina is just right for you, Angelo.'

'In what way?'

'Well, she's beautiful and well-educated and … sophisticated … '

'And you were none of those things?'

'We're not talking about me.' The little lies she had told came back in a  rush. The non-existent education, and her sophistication had been of  the purely surface sort. A few scratches and under the glitter was the  hard, ugly metal. Not that he had ever known that. 'How did you meet  her?' she asked, changing the subject.                       
       
           



       

'At a party given by mutual friends.'

Francesca could picture the scene. A collection of glamorous, well-bred  people, the elite of the elite. She could imagine Angelo's reaction when  he saw the small blonde, the awakening of sudden, intense passion, the  pursuit. She had lived it and loved it for a short while.

'You must be very excited at the prospect of getting married.'

'The time is right.' He shrugged and sipped some of the coffee. 'There  is no need to look so aghast, Francesca. Don't tell me that you still  believe in love and romance?'

'As a matter of fact, I do.'

'And it's what you have found with your boyfriend? Love, romance and the promise of a fairytale ending?'

'What's wrong with that?' Francesca lowered her eyes. It crossed her  mind that the small deceit about her relationship with Jack, initiated  for all the right reasons, might not have been such a great idea after  all. She now had no choice but to go along for the ride.

Angelo felt a sharp, brief stab of jealousy and smiled coolly. 'Nothing  if you happen to have your head in the clouds. You're right. Georgina  and I are well-matched. She is all that any man could want in a wife, a  perfect foil for me, as a matter of fact.'

'Meaning what?'

'Meaning that she detests confrontations as much as I do. I find that an  admirable trait in a woman. Makes for a very harmonious atmosphere.'

'Makes for a doormat, if you ask me,' Francesca muttered under her breath, and he leaned forward, straining to hear.

'I don't think I caught that.'

'I just wondered whether a marriage in which there are absolutely no  confrontations might be a little unchallenging for a man like you,  Angelo.'

Same old indifference to his boundaries, he noted angrily. He opened his  mouth to put her neatly in her place, but she had already taken up the  threads of her observation.

'I mean, isn't it going to get a little boring if you spend all your  time in the company of someone who only knows how to agree with you?  Face it, it's hardly as though you don't have a huge repertoire of very  contentious ideas.' She laughed, ignoring the stunned displeasure on his  face.

'Are you telling me that I am making a mistake with my fiancée?' Angelo enquired coldly, and Francesca's laughter faded away.

'No, of course not! I'm sure Georgina isn't as submissive as you pretend.'

'And maybe I have learnt after my experiences with you that I prefer women who do not disrespect me.'

Francesca accepted the inflammatory criticism in mortified silence. Yes,  she had broken off their relationship. He had wanted more of her-but he  hadn't proposed, had he? He had saved that for the right woman.

'Then lucky you. You found someone who fits the bill,' she replied  blandly. She stood up. 'I'm really tired, Angelo. It's been nice  chatting to you.' She walked towards the door and waited in the doorway  for him, both hands pressed behind her. 'It's good that we can both be  adults.' He was standing right in front of her now and she felt her  mouth go dry.

'Isn't it. You're trembling again, Francesca. Don't tell me that I still  make you nervous, even though I've reassured you that I won't be making  any efforts to discredit you. In fact, if your food lives up to its  promise I'll be sure to recommend you to friends and clients.'

Was she trembling? 'Thank you. We can always use all the help we can get  and word of mouth is the best form of advertising in this business.'  The words were coming out but her brain felt like cotton wool. All she  could see was the even rise and fall of his broad chest.

Angelo reached out and feathered his finger along her arm. It was barely  a touch but still enough to send her nervous system into immediate  meltdown. She pressed herself harder against the doorframe to stop  herself from sliding ignominiously to the ground.

'Have you wondered, Francesca?' he asked softly.

'Wondered? Wondered what?'

'Wondered what it would be like to make love again … '

'No, I have not! And that's … that's … disgusting! You're engaged to be  married, Angelo! I realise that you might be cynical about love and  romance but don't you have any loyalty at all?'

'There's no need to get so morally outraged.' He smiled at her with lazy  amusement. 'I wasn't proposing that we rip our clothes off and have sex  in your hallway.'

Francesca squeaked and Angelo raised his eyebrows. 'You didn't think that, did you? As you said, that was then and this is now.'                       
       
           



       

'I … I … ' she spluttered.

'I wouldn't cheat on my fiancée. Which isn't to say that my mind has not  speculated on what we had. We were very good together in bed, after  all … '

'Your mind … your mind should behave itself, Angelo! And it's not right that we should be talking about this!'

'I thought we had done away with the pretending game.'

'It's time for you to go.'

'Meaning that this conversation embarrasses you?'

'Meaning that this conversation is inappropriate. What would Georgina say if she knew … knew … ?'

'That we once had an affair? I doubt she would mind. Thankfully, she's not the jealous type.'

'I would be,' Francesca muttered.

'Then you and your boyfriend must have had quite a row after his flirtatious behaviour this evening.'

'I told you, Jack wasn't flirting.'

'Then you're not very clever at reading body language.'

Not very clever at reading body language? She was reading her body  language now and she didn't like what it was saying. Every fibre of her  was pulsing, reacting to him. Her breasts felt tender and her nipples  were pushing painfully against her bra. He could still do this to her  even though she could feel his three-year-old anger simmering just  beneath the surface.

'And you weren't jealous, Angelo? I don't believe that! Even if you tell  me that you don't believe in love and romance, you forget that I know  you! You used to question every male model I had to do a shoot with!'

'Fortunately since then I've learnt to use my head when it comes to  women,' Angelo grated. He opened his mouth to say something but she  would never know because just then the doorbell rang. Literally saved by  the bell.

She darted towards the door, breathing unevenly, and opened it to find that her saviour was Jack.

'He's here!' she hissed under her breath, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and tugging him closer to her.

'And he's getting under your skin. Interesting.'

'This is no time to joke, Jack. Just … just put your arms around me and do a convincing act of being my boyfriend, would you?'

With his arms around her, she felt safe from the coal-black eyes burning  a hole behind her and, by the time she had unwrapped herself from the  embrace, she was more or less back in control.

Angelo had finally taken the hint she had been giving him ever since  he'd first stepped through her door earlier on and was ready to leave.  He nodded briefly at Jack and then looked coolly at Francesca, who was  presenting a united front with Jack pressed next to her.

'I'll be in touch.'

'Of course.' She smiled but her jaw ached. It was a relief when he  closed the door quietly behind him and her tense muscles could sag.

'You're going to have to deal with him from now on, Jack.' She headed  towards the kitchen, knowing that he would follow and that he would also  sense her mood and get her a cup of coffee while she sat at the table  and tried to recover from feeling as though she had been mown down by a  steamroller.

'Do you want to jack the job in?' He handed her a cup of coffee and sat at the opposite end of the table.