The Platinum Collection

CHAPTER EIGHT

A DAY and a half later, on the eve of her return to England, Jess stared down in consternation at a pregnancy test wand and its indisputable result.

There it was, ironically, the outcome she had secretly come to fear most. Seemingly it had taken hardly any time at all for Cesario to get her pregnant and it was a discovery that ripped Jess into emotional shreds and plunged her into violent conflict with herself. She hadn’t expected to conceive so quickly and had simply assumed that it would take at least a year. One half of Jess wanted to get up and dance round the room and tell everyone and anyone who was willing to listen that she was expecting her first child. For so long she had dreamt of becoming a mother and now the opportunity had finally come her way and she knew that she ought to be feeling ecstatic.

But the other half of Jess was cast into complete turmoil by the positive result. Would this result mean that her marriage to Cesario was now effectively over? Confronted by that threatening fear, it was impossible for her to be ecstatic or even accepting. She loved Cesario, she was not yet ready to lose him, could not see when she would ever be ready to. Would she now be returning to Halston Hall alone, there to wait out the course of her pregnancy with nothing more than occasional phone calls from the man who had fathered her child? In the circumstances, how much more involved could she expect Cesario to be in her life? The whole point of their marriage had been to conceive a child, she reminded herself bleakly. He would not have married her otherwise. Now that the baby had become reality Cesario would be free to return to his former lifestyle of wine, women and song, a possibility that made Jess feel quite sick with apprehension.

Of course, it was perfectly feasible that the result was wrong, Jess began to reason frantically, surveying the discarded packaging and deciding all of a sudden that it looked like a cheap and unreliable testing kit. Her bowed shoulders began to rise again. She just knew that Cesario wouldn’t be overly impressed by the news that she had run her own test. She really would need to see a doctor to get a proper diagnosis and it would be much simpler just to wait until she got back to England where she could easily make an appointment at the village surgery. Her frown of worry ebbed. It would be crazy to burn all her boats at once, so she would keep the unconfirmed result of the test to herself until she had irreproachable proof of her condition, she decided, her spirits recovering from their temporary dive into the doldrums. She really couldn’t be too cautious. Wouldn’t it be dreadful to tell Cesario that she was pregnant and then discover that she had made a ghastly mistake?

Of course, in the short term, she would be careful to take every possible precaution with her health in case she did receive a positive confirmation, Jess reflected. At the very least she would stay off alcohol and be careful of what she ate. To date, however, she was feeling her normal healthy self. Admittedly she was tiring a little more quickly than usual, but that tiredness and the tenderness of her breasts were the only physical changes she had noted and nothing she couldn’t live with. Torn in two by her conflicting feelings, she rested a hand against her still-flat belly and wondered if there really was a baby growing in her womb.

Attired in a simply cut crimson dress that flattered her slender curves with a close fit, Jess went downstairs for lunch. Agostina, their housekeeper, mentioned that Alice was with Cesario. Jess was about to go in the rambling main reception area to join them when she was startled to hear Cesario exclaim angrily, ‘No! That’s out of the question!’

‘But I can hardly meet her eyes as it is,’ Alice was arguing in a tone of distress. ‘Jess deserves to know the truth, Cesario. How is she going to feel if you don’t tell her?’

Round a corner and hidden from the view of her husband and his companion, Jess was frozen to the spot by the dialogue she had almost interrupted. Now her imagination was flying free and she was eavesdropping, wanting and desperately needing to know what they were talking about that had got both of them so worked up.

‘What Jess doesn’t know won’t hurt her. It’s a fallacy that the truth is always preferable or kinder.’

‘But I feel so guilty whenever I’m with her—’

‘You won’t be with her again for quite some time. We’re leaving for England tomorrow morning—’

‘It doesn’t matter how you wrap it up. What we’re doing is wrong,’ Alice argued emotively. ‘She’s being cheated!’

‘I refuse to discuss this with you any more, Alice,’ Cesario cut in with icy finality.

What we’re doing is wrong. She’s being cheated. Oh, my goodness, Oh. My. Goodness! Jess thought sickly as she stumbled blindly back to the hall and headed like a homing pigeon for the stairs again to take cover in privacy. They were having an affair behind her back and Alice was feeling guilty? Alice, it seemed, actually wanted to come clean about the affair, but Cesario was all for keeping their adultery a secret. Of course, he had excellent reasons for wanting to keep quiet, didn’t he?

Had he owed her such an honest explanation of where his heart really lay when they first embarked on their marriage of convenience? Possibly not, for fidelity and deeper emotions had not featured in what she had innocently believed that marriage would entail. What was in his heart had been nothing to do with her when he had only married her to ensure that any child they conceived was born within wedlock. And he still needed a child to ensure he could inherit Collina Verde, so naturally he wouldn’t want Alice to rock the boat with ill-judged confessions of unfaithfulness just at this moment.

It all made perfect sense to Jess and she felt dizzy and sick with shock and disillusionment. She dropped down on the edge of the bed. Her skin was clammy and her tummy was on a nauseous roll. On every level of her being she was appalled by what she had just discovered because she had expected better of the man she had married. For a start, Cesario and Stefano were as close as brothers. Both were only children and had grown up together; Cesario, in particular, had spent a lot of time with Stefano’s family following his mother’s premature death. Jess would have sworn that Cesario was deeply attached to his cousin, and that Stefano was a doting husband who would be devastated to find out that the wife he adored was sleeping with his best friend. How could Cesario betray Stefano like that? Jess called herself a fool, a blind, trusting fool, for not being more suspicious of a woman who, having once been Cesario’s lover, still remained on such openly warm terms with him. How often were such continuing friendships purely platonic? And Alice was an extremely beautiful woman…

Jess squeezed her eyes tight shut and knotted her fists. Maybe she should not have been so quick to dismiss the daunting tabloid reports of Cesario’s sexual exploits and heartless nature. Having fallen in love with him, she had wanted only to think good things of him and had happily assumed such rumours to be lies couched to entertain readers who enjoyed being shocked by the shameless shenanigans of the rich and famous. Cesario had certainly misled her, so it was hardly surprising that he had also misled his cousin into believing that his relationship with Alice was innocent.

Jess asked herself what she did now. As the saying went, she was neither fish nor fowl and really had no idea what her status was as Cesario’s wife. Was he currently sleeping with Alice? Or was that intimacy being reserved for when his relationship with Jess ended? Or was she kidding herself in thinking that the lovers might be practising that kind of respectful restraint? At the same time, Jess had spent almost every waking hour with Cesario since their wedding and she could not think when Alice and Cesario could have had the opportunity to cheat. He had enjoyed no unexplained absences or trips anywhere and had never failed to answer his mobile phone when she had called him; if he was having an affair with Alice it was an incredibly discreet one and he was being unbelievably careful not to rouse suspicions. Was it possible that there was another explanation for the mysterious conversational exchange she had overheard?

Wondering if she was being silly even to think that she might be mistaken, Jess went back downstairs. Cesario entered the dining room at almost the same time.

‘Isn’t Alice joining us?’ Jess asked, to let him know that she was aware of the other woman’s visit.

Cesario gave her a level look that carried not a shred of discomfiture. ‘No. I asked her to stay but she has guests arriving this afternoon for the weekend. Before I forget, she left a gift for you. I believe it’s a belated birthday present,’ he advanced, striding out of the room and reappearing a minute later with a package, which he extended.

Jess frowned. ‘What is it?’

‘I think she’s painted something for you,’ Cesario said carelessly.

Jess removed the wrapping paper and the bubble-wrap beneath and found she was looking at a very charming framed drawing of her dogs lying in a group on the shaded loggia. She did recall Alice sketching out there one day but had simply assumed that she was drawing the magnificent view. ‘It’s really beautiful,’ she remarked in shock at the generosity of the gift, noting how Alice had carefully managed to capture the traits of each animal. ‘She’s very talented.’

‘You’re much more impressed with that than you were with the painting I bought you,’ Cesario noted with an incredulous lift of his expressive ebony brows.

Jess studied the delightful drawing of her pets, which she would cherish, and guilty discomfiture engulfed her. She could not credit that the woman who had taken the time and effort to give her such a well-chosen, personalised present could, at the same time, be having an affair with her husband. Did that make her foolish and naive? However, now Jess could not believe that Alice was capable of such dishonesty while simultaneously behaving like a caring, considerate friend. She had no idea what Alice had been arguing with Cesario about, but she was increasingly convinced it could not relate to the two of them being involved in a secret affair. Was it possible that she herself was guilty of being just a little bit paranoid about Cesario? Was she more jealous of his bond with Alice than she had any reason to be? Seemingly she had leapt far too fast to the wrong conclusion and envy was the most likely cause. Her face warmed at the idea.

‘You’re very quiet this afternoon, piccola mia.’

‘It’s very hot. I’m kind of sleepy,’ Jess said truthfully.

‘You do look tired. But then I never leave you to sleep the night through in peace,’ Cesario remarked with a rueful hint of discomfiture. ‘But tonight I will—’

‘No, you won’t,’ Jess objected before she could even think about the bold statement she was making when she disagreed. ‘I’ll have a nap now.’

A potent sexy grin curled Cesario’s mouth at that offer, his lean dark features reflecting his amusement. ‘I like being in demand very much, moglie mia.’

But if he knew she might already be pregnant, would he still want to be in demand? Or would he suddenly appreciate that all his options were open again and that the intimate phase of their marriage was over and done with? In spite of those misgivings, Jess fell asleep within minutes of lying down on the bed in the shaded bedroom and she slept the afternoon and early evening away.

When she got up again, she tracked Cesario down in the room he used as an office. Glancing up, he saw her hovering in the doorway, bright as a butterfly in a lilac top and skirt. ‘Come and see this,’ he urged with a frown.

Jess wandered over and stared down at the sheet of paper he was poring over. ‘What is it?’ she prompted uncertainly.

‘Rigo sent a scan of it to me this afternoon.’

Jess stared down at the sheet of paper. Jumbled letters cut from a newspaper had been put together to form a note. But the spelling was so appalling that it was hard to work out the words, although she was quick to register that it had been put together in English. ‘Where did this come from? And who is Rigo?’

‘Rigo Castello looks after my security and the original of this communication arrived at Halston Hall this morning. It’s offering to return my stolen painting for a finder’s fee…’

‘Your painting…the one that was stolen? A finder’s fee?’ Jess exclaimed in disbelieving repetition.

‘I think we can safely assume that the thieves sent this demand,’ Cesario contended, his hard, handsome face sardonic. ‘Presumably they have found it impossible to sell the painting for the kind of money they were hoping to receive and are now hoping to ransom it back to me.’

Jess was still struggling to decipher the jumble of misspelt words on the sheet. Helpfully, Cesario read it out, right down to the concluding assurance that further instructions would follow as to where the money was to be left. ‘What on earth are you going to do?’ she muttered in bemusement.

‘Well, I’m not going to pay for the return of my stolen property,’ Cesario declared with derision. ‘I refuse to be held to ransom by criminals!’

Jess shifted uneasily where she stood, all too well aware that he might well have got his art work back had he been able to approach the police, but of course that would incriminate her father in the robbery. She was beginning to feel very uncomfortable because adolescent memories were also stirring and it was impossible to forget the mortifying involvement of her mother’s relatives in the crime. At that instant she was one hundred per cent convinced that she knew exactly who was responsible for the theft of Cesario’s painting.

‘When I was a teenager, my cousins, Jason and Mark, once sent a letter like this to intimidate a neighbour who had complained to the police about them,’ she told him ruefully. ‘The spelling in the letter was dreadful. I think this could be from them and that they must have your painting.’

Cesario surveyed her with hooded eyes. ‘I must say that I have married into a very interesting family.’

Her face flamed. ‘Look, don’t make a joke of it. Think of how you would feel if you were related to people like that!’ she urged.

‘You’re right, moglie mia. That was a cheap crack and undeserved, particularly when you’ve just given me useful information. We will not discuss this again,’ he completed, his strong jaw line clenching.

‘I’m sorry about the painting. I know how much you valued it,’ she said awkwardly.

His lean, darkly handsome features softened. ‘It’s not your fault and I don’t hold you responsible in any way. Don’t blame yourself because your father got in over his head and did something stupid.’

Jess felt that that was a generous response in the circumstances and she had cause to remind herself of that during the hours that followed. Over dinner Cesario seemed preoccupied and he excused himself to catch up with work afterwards and did not join her in bed that night. It was the first time in weeks that she had slept alone. She lay awake thinking about their return to England in the morning while trying not to wonder if Cesario was keeping his distance because he was repulsed by her thieving relatives. It was all very well for him to tell her that she was not to blame, but she could not forget that she was only married to him and possibly even carrying his child because of that robbery.

In the morning, Jess could hardly keep her eyes open and she made more use of make-up than she usually did in an effort to lift her wan appearance. She did not see Cesario until after breakfast and he still seemed distant. Determined not to waste any time in finding out whether or not she was pregnant, she phoned to make an appointment to see her GP in Charlbury St Helen’s before they even left for the airport and caught their flight home to the UK. Her dogs would already be at Halston Hall waiting to greet them.

‘This is your home now, piccola mia,’ Cesario pronounced as the limo drove through the turreted gates of the Elizabethan property. ‘Make whatever changes you please to the house. I want you to be comfortable here.’

It was a generous invitation and it warmed her uneasy heart and steadied her nerves about the future, until it occurred to her that Cesario had made no such open-handed comments in relation to his other homes round the world. Collina Verde in Italy, it seemed, had been her home only for the honeymoon. She tried hard not to read any significance into that fact. If Cesario was rather cool in her radius it was probably only the natural result of the robbery fiasco, because when the thieves had offered to sell his own painting back to him they had undoubtedly added insult to injury.

‘By the way, I’ve bought you a new vehicle to get about in,’ Cesario informed her as they travelled down the drive to the hall. ‘Your car was ready for the scrap heap.’

‘But I don’t need a new car!’ Jess protested.

‘There it is—the blue one parked out front,’ Cesario informed her as smoothly as if she hadn’t spoken.

It was a brand-new, top-of-the-range Range Rover, ten times more expensive then her elderly four-wheel drive and embellished with the most sumptuous cream leather upholstery Jess had ever seen. ‘I gather this is part of my new swanky image,’ she said tartly, turning her head to look at him after she had walked all the way round the luxury car.

‘No, not in this case. I didn’t think that wreck you were driving was very safe and I didn’t want it breaking down and stranding you somewhere lonely late at night,’ Cesario contradicted silkily, making her feel ungracious.

Jess was on the brink of protest about his interference until she registered that she actually liked the fact that he was concerned about her safety. It was a satisfyingly husbandly concern and allowed her to feel more like a real wife than she usually dared to feel. ‘It’s not going to look clean and perfect for very long with me and the dogs using it,’ she warned him ruefully.

As Tommaso appeared beaming at the front door a canine flood surged out to acknowledge their arrival with a flurry of barks and scrabbling paws. Cesario strode off towards the garages after telling Jess that he had an urgent appointment to keep. Weed raced round the corner in his wake—the skinny lurcher, whose confidence had grown by leaps and bounds in Italy, had become her husband’s shadow, and Magic bounced along after them.

Jess changed into more comfortable clothing and went out to keep her medical appointment at the local surgery. Thirty minutes later she had the confirmation she had sought and, feeling somewhat shaken by the news that she would have a child by the following spring, she went to visit her mother.

‘Cesario called in an hour ago,’ Sharon Martin told her daughter when she arrived. ‘He spoke to your father at work and then came here to ask me some questions about your uncle Sam.’

Jess fell still and grimaced at that information. ‘What’s he up to?’

‘Your husband wants his painting back and he’s determined to get it,’ her mother confided ruefully. ‘He told your father that he would try to keep him out of things but that he can’t guarantee it—’

‘That’s not fair!’ Jess gasped in consternation. ‘I have an agreement with Cesario…’

‘And he wants the agreement and he wants his painting back. Typical man,’ Sharon Martin quipped. ‘He wants it all and sees no reason why he shouldn’t have it.’

Jess breathed in deep. ‘You’re going to be a grandmother again next year.’

Initially taken aback by the change of subject, her mother stared at her and then, with an exclamation of pleasure, she rushed forward and gave her daughter a warm hug. ‘My goodness, that didn’t take long! Are you pleased?’

Squashing her doubts and insecurities about Cesario and keen to ensure that her mother didn’t worry about her, Jess fixed a smile to her lips. ‘I’m over the moon! I haven’t told Cesario yet, so keep my secret for me.’

Before returning to the hall, Jess called in at the veterinary surgery to check the work rotas. She went straight to talk to her boss because her pregnancy would mean there had to be a good deal of reorganisation at the practice. She would have to take extra safety precautions and consider the kind of jobs she took on. She thought it said a lot for Charlie that, even after taking all that approaching hassle into account, he was still able to offer her his hearty congratulations and happily reminisce about his early days as a new father.

When she got back to Halston Hall, Tommaso was in the hall supervising the placement of a very large canvas of what looked like a desiccated tree twisting in a storm. Rigo Castello, a heavily built older man, was poised nearby wearing a large approving smile. Jess gaped at the painting and recognised it at once from Cesario’s description of it. She asked where Cesario was and raced breathlessly into his office with her dogs accompanying her. ‘You got it back? How on earth did you do it?’

Cesario straightened his long, lean, powerful body fluidly from his lounging position on the edge of the desk and made a hand signal to Magic, which made the deaf and excitable terrier sit down and stop barking. ‘Your Uncle Sam is a sensible man.’

And then without any warning at all, and as if someone had suddenly pulled a rug from beneath him, Cesario lurched sideways and crumpled down into a heap on the floor. ‘Tommaso!’ Jess shouted in shock, dropping to her knees by Cesario’s side and noting that he was ashen-faced, with perspiration gleaming on his brow.

His security chief, Rigo, joined her first. ‘Let me deal with this, signora.’

‘I’ll call the doctor!’ Jess exclaimed because Cesario appeared to be unconscious.

‘That won’t be necessary, signora. Mr di Silvestri is already coming round.’

Jess watched Cesario’s lashes lift on dazed dark golden eyes. He blinked several times. Her heart was pounding with adrenalin inside her ribcage. Rigo addressed his employer in rapid low-pitched Italian and, raking a trembling hand through his cropped black hair, Cesario responded.

‘I’ll call the doctor,’ Jess said again.

‘No—I don’t want a doctor!’ Cesario asserted with what struck her as quite unnecessary force. As he struggled to get up she noticed that he leant heavily on Rigo’s arm.

Jess was concerned enough to argue with her husband. ‘You’re obviously not well! You need to see a doctor…’

‘I tripped on the corner of the rug and I must’ve struck my head,’ Cesario countered, dismissing Rigo, who shot him a troubled look before leaving the room.

Her brow indented as she glanced at the rug, which seemed to be lying perfectly flat. She had only seen him fall and it had looked more like a collapse or a faint to her than a moment of clumsy inattention. Not only did his interpretation not make sense, she could think of no reason why he should lie about it. She studied him worriedly, grateful to see that he had regained colour and looked more like himself. It shook her to recall that just months ago he had meant very little more to her than a stranger in the street, while now he meant the whole world to her.

‘You said you had spoken to my uncle?’ she prompted, her curiosity about the painting overtaking her concern now that he seemed to have made a recovery.

‘Yes, and he didn’t want any trouble. He was even less keen on the idea of the police being called in. He told me that if his sons had my painting he’d have it back here within the hour and presumably they did,’ Cesario pointed out drily.

‘You intended to bring in the police if you didn’t get anywhere with him?’ she pressed.

‘Rather than let your cousins get away with robbing me blind? Fes,’ Cesario confirmed without hesitation, his lean strong face stamped with resolve. ‘I warned your father but, fortunately for him, I’ve got my property back and the matter can be forgotten about now.’

‘Well, I’m glad you got it back but you didn’t really play fair, did you?’ Jess commented, light grey eyes full of reproach. ‘To keep my father safe, I married you and agreed to give you a child, which was a pretty tall order. But in spite of that, today you were ready to sacrifice my father.’

‘Why worry about what didn’t happen, piccola mia?’ Closing the distance between them, Cesario spread his long fingers either side of her anxious face and gently smoothed her skin in a soothing gesture. ‘Your father is innocent of any criminal intention and he was not at risk. I accepted that after speaking to him personally following the robbery and if the police had got involved they would have reached the same conclusion that I did, moglie mia.’

Jess trembled, more affected than she was prepared to admit by his proximity and words of understanding. He’d called her ‘my wife’ and instantly everything seemed lighter and brighter. She wrapped her arms round his neck and within seconds he was kissing her with a hot, driving hunger that left her dizzy with its intensity. Her body quickened, desire rising embarrassingly fast so that she pushed against his hard, muscular frame, her breath ragged in her throat, her nipples tight and throbbing.

‘Bed,’ Cesario muttered thickly, grasping her hand and urging her out of the room and up the stairs.

‘It’s time for dinner,’ she muttered.

‘Non c’è problema! Tommaso won’t let us starve, bellezza mia.’

And the hunger he roused in her with his second kiss was fierce and relentless, every plunge of his tongue sending a responsive quiver through her slight body. It was as if there were a flame desperate for fuel burning at the heart of her as she hauled off his jacket and pulled open his shirt. He laughed softly and then crushed her mouth almost savagely beneath his. As he removed her clothes with impatient hands she knew that, somehow, the same overwhelming urgency and need for fulfilment was driving him.

He sank into her hot, wet sheath hard and fast and released a groan of pleasure that acted like an aphrodisiac on her. She felt wild as she craved every thrust of his lean, muscular hips, her body jolting and straining towards a climax even while he paused to savour the moment. She came apart in the circle of his arms, ravished by the exquisite pleasure that washed through her in a sweet drowning tide, so that even afterwards all she was conscious of was the race of his heartbeat against her breast and the damp, reassuring solidity of his big powerful body against hers.

‘I’ve never needed anyone the way I just needed you, cara mia,’ Cesario framed heavily, both arms wrapped round her as though he was still reluctant to let her go.

And in the fading light she smiled and touched a loving hand to his shadowed jaw line, admiring his fabulous bone structure and the inky darkness of the long lashes that framed his bronzed eyes. She loved to be needed, lived to be needed by him, and his passion for her made her feel special. It would have been the perfect moment to tell him that she was pregnant but she was quick to discard the idea, preferring to concentrate on their togetherness rather than on an announcement that might well bring their current living arrangements to an end. She would share her news in the morning instead, she decided, and she stayed silent, even though they later got out of bed to enjoy a late dinner.

What remained of the night was long, since they made love until dawn. Cesario was tireless and his hunger for her seemed both ravenous and unquenchable. When exhaustion finally overcame her, she slept deeply and wakened to find that she was alone. She had planned to make her announcement over breakfast with Cesario but the morning was already well advanced.

Clad in cropped trousers and a silk top, she hurried across the imposing landing of the mansion that was now her home and sped downstairs. She found Cesario in his office talking in Italian on the phone. Weed and Magic were curled up together below his desk. Eyes tender with love, she watched Cesario unnoticed from the doorway for the space of minute, revelling in the memory of the closeness they had shared and proud of the intimate ache that was the penalty for such passion…