Modern Romance November Books 1-4

And it didn’t matter how busy she was—it was never enough to stop her thoughts from spinning in an unwanted direction. She found herself thinking about Salvio and that was the last thing she needed. She didn’t want to remember all the things he’d done to her. The way he’d stroked her face and lips and body, before pushing open her thighs to enter her. Just as she didn’t want to think about the way he’d whispered ‘bedda mia’ and ‘nicuzza’ in that haunting dialect when they’d both woken in the middle of the night. Because remembering that stuff was dangerous. It made it all too easy to imagine that it mattered. And it didn’t. Not to him. He’d been able to walk away without a second glance and Molly had told him she was able to do the same.

So do it.

Stop yearning.

Stop wishing for the impossible.

* * *

It was four days before Christmas when two bombshells fell in rapid succession. Molly had just been about to drive to the village, when she came across Lady Avery standing in the hallway—a full-length fur coat swamping her fine-boned frame. Her face looked cold. As cold as the wintry wind which was whistling outside the big house and bringing with it the first few flakes of snow.

‘Molly, don’t bother going to the shops right now,’ she said, without preamble.

Molly blinked. She’d made the pudding and cake and mince pies, but she still had to pick up the turkey and the vegetables. And hadn’t they run out of satsumas? She looked at her boss helpfully. ‘Is there something else you would rather I was doing?’

‘Indeed there is. You can go upstairs and pack your things.’

Molly stared at her boss in confusion. ‘Pack my things?’ she echoed stupidly. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Don’t you? It’s really quite simple. Surely there’s no need for me to spell it out for you. We no longer require your services.’

‘But...’

‘But what, Molly?’ Lady Avery took a step closer and now Molly could see that all the rage she’d been bottling up since Salvio’s departure was about to come spilling out. ‘I hope you aren’t going to ask me why I haven’t given you more notice, because I really don’t think the normal rules apply when you’ve abused your position as outrageously as you have done. I really don’t think that sleeping with the guests ever made it into your job description, do you?’

‘But it’s just before Christmas!’ Molly burst out, unable to stop herself. ‘And this...this is my home.’

Lady Avery gave a shrill laugh. ‘I don’t think so. Why don’t you go running to your boyfriend and ask if he wants you over the holiday period? Because it’s not going to happen, that’s why. Salvio will have moved on to the kind of women he’s more usually associated with by now.’ Her pale eyes drilled into Molly. ‘Do you know, they say there isn’t a supermodel on the planet he hasn’t dated?’

‘But why...why wait until now?’ questioned Molly in a low voice. ‘Why didn’t you just fire me straight away?’

‘With wall-to-wall engagements planned and Christmas just over the horizon?’ Lady Avery looked at her incredulously. ‘I was hardly going to dispense with your services and leave myself without a housekeeper at such a busy time, now, was I? That’s what’s known as cutting off your nose to spite your face.’ There was a pause. ‘You’ll find you’ve been paid up to the end of the month, which is more generous than you deserve. Philip and I have decided to fly to Barbados tomorrow for a last-minute holiday and we’re going out for the rest of the day. Just make sure you’re gone by the time we return, will you, Molly?’

‘But...but where will I go tonight?’

‘You really think I care? There’s a cheap B&B in the village. You can go there—if they’ll take you.’ Lady Avery’s mouth had curved into a cruel smile. ‘Just make sure you leave your car and house keys on the hall table before you go.’

And that was that. Molly could hardly believe it was happening. Except that she could. Her heart clenched as her old friend Fear re-entered her life without fanfare and suddenly she was back in that familiar situation of being in a fix. Only this time she couldn’t blame her brother, or the vagaries of fate which had made her mother so ill throughout her childhood. This time it was all down to her.

Biting her lip, she thought desperately about where she could go and what she could do, but no instant solution sprang to mind. She had no relatives. No local friends who could provide her with a roof over her head until she found herself another live-in job. Her mind buzzed frantically as some of Lady Avery’s words came flooding into her mind. How would Salvio react if she called him up and told him she’d been fired as a result of their crazy liaison? Would he do the decent thing and offer her a place to stay? Yet, despite recoiling at the thought of throwing herself on the mercy of a man who’d made it clear he wanted nothing but a one-night stand, it was growing increasingly clear that she might have to. Because the second bombshell was hovering overhead ready to explode, no matter how hard she tried to block it from her mind.

Telling herself it was stress which had made her period so late, she pushed the thought away as she remembered the card Salvio had given her—the one with a direct line to his assistant. What had he said? That his assistant knew plenty of people and could help her find a domestic role if ever she needed one. Molly licked her lips. She didn’t want to do it but what choice did she have? Where would she even start looking for a new job and a home at this time of year?

Quickly, she packed her clothes, trying not to give in to the tears which were pricking at the backs of her eyes. Carefully she wedged in the framed photo of her mother and the one of Robbie in his school uniform, the cute image giving no hint of the gimlet-eyed teenager he would become. And only when she was standing in her threadbare winter coat, with a hand-knitted scarf knotted tightly around her neck, did she dial the number on the card with a shaking finger.

Salvio’s assistant was called Gina and she didn’t just sound friendly—she sounded relieved when Molly gave her name and explained why she was ringing.

‘I can’t believe it,’ she said fervently. ‘You are the answer to my prayers, Molly Miller.’

‘Me?’ said Molly doubtfully.

‘Yes, you.’ Gina’s voice softened. ‘Are you free now? I mean, as of right now?’

‘I am,’ answered Molly cautiously. ‘Why?’

‘Because Salvio is having his annual pre-Christmas party in the Cotswolds tomorrow, just before he flies to Naples—and the housekeeper we’d hired has called to say her mother has fallen downstairs and broken her wrist, and she’s had to cancel. If you can step in and take over at the last minute I can make it very worth your while.’

Molly pushed out the words from between suddenly frozen lips. ‘That’s very bad news—about the broken wrist, I mean, but I don’t think I—’

But the tycoon’s assistant was breezing on as if she hadn’t spoken.

‘Salvio must rate you very highly to have given you my number,’ Gina continued. ‘Why, it’s almost like fate. I won’t even have to bother telling him about the change. He doesn’t like to be bogged down with domestic trivia and he’s always so busy.’

Molly bit her lip so hard it hurt. This was fast becoming a nightmare, but what else could she do? How could she possibly turn down this opportunity just because she’d had sex with the man who would now unwittingly be employing her? She would just blend into the background and pray that the Neapolitan tycoon would be too busying partying to pay her any attention. And if the worst came to the worst and he discovered her identity—then she would shrug her shoulders and tell him it was no big deal.

Realistically, what could go wrong?

But being rumbled by Salvio wasn’t the worst thing which could happen, was it? Not by a long way. The fear which had been nagging at her for days came flooding into her mind and this time would not be silenced, because all her excuses about stress and anxiety were rapidly fading. Because she wasn’t sure if anxiety was capable of making your breasts ache and feel much bigger than usual. Or whether it could sap your normally voracious appetite.

She stared at her pale reflection in the hall mirror and saw the terror written in her own eyes. Because what if she was pregnant with Salvio De Gennaro’s baby?

CHAPTER FIVE

VISIBILITY WAS POOR—in fact, it was almost non-existent. Salvio’s fingers tightened around the soft leather of the steering wheel. Eyes narrowed, he stared straight ahead but all he could see was an all-enveloping whiteness swirling in front of the car windscreen. Every couple of seconds, the wipers dispelled the thick layer of snow which had settled, only to be rapidly replaced by another.

Frustrated, he glanced at the gold watch at his wrist, cursing the unpredictability of the weather. His journey from central London to the Cotswold countryside had been excruciatingly slow and in an ideal world he would have cancelled his annual party. But you couldn’t really cancel something this close to Christmas, no matter how preoccupied you were feeling. And he was feeling preoccupied, no doubt about it—even though the reason for that was disconcertingly bizarre. An impatient sigh escaped his lungs as he watched another flurry of snow. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about the curvy little housekeeper with the big grey eyes, with those luscious breasts, whose tips had fitted perfectly into his hungry mouth. Most of all, he couldn’t stop remembering her purity. Her innocence.

Which he had taken. Without thought. Without knowledge. But certainly not without feeling.

Memories of how it had felt to penetrate her beautiful tightness flooded his mind and Salvio swallowed as he touched his foot against the brake pedal. Would he have bedded her so willingly if he’d known she was a virgin? Of course he wouldn’t. His desire for the housekeeper had been completely out of character and he still couldn’t quite fathom it. He usually enjoyed women who were, if not quite his equal, then certainly closer on the social scale than Molly Miller would ever be.

He thought about Beatriz—the Brazilian beauty with whom he’d been enjoying a long-distance flirtation for the past few months. He had been attracted to her because she’d played hard to get and he’d convinced himself that a woman who wouldn’t tumble straight into his arms was exactly what he needed. But as her attitude towards him had thawed, so had his interest waned—and the memory of Molly had completely wiped her from his mind. And although Beatriz had made it clear she would be happy to share his bed after his Christmas party, the idea had left him cold, despite the fact that most men lusted after her statuesque beauty. He had been wondering about the most tactful way to convey his sudden change of heart, when she’d rung last night to say her plane had been delayed in Honolulu and she didn’t think she was going to make his party. And hadn’t he been struck by an overwhelming feeling of relief?

‘No importa. Don’t worry about it,’ he had responded quickly—probably too quickly.

A pause. ‘But I’m hoping we can see each other some other time, Salvio.’

‘I’m hoping so too, but I’m flying out to Naples for Christmas and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.’ His response had been smooth and seasoned. And distinctly dismissive. ‘I’ll call you.’

He could tell from her sharp intake of breath that she understood the underlying message and her goodbye had been clipped and cold. She hadn’t even wished him a happy Christmas and he supposed he couldn’t blame her.

But his mind had soon moved on to other things and, infuriatingly, he kept recalling the sweet sensation of a naked Molly in his arms. He swallowed. The way her soft lips had pressed into his neck and her fleshy thighs had opened so accommodatingly. There were a million reasons why he shouldn’t be thinking about her but she was proving a distractingly difficult image to shift. Was that because she hadn’t put any demands on him? Because she’d been okay about him walking out of her life? Most women hung on in there, but Molly Miller was not among their number. And hadn’t that intrigued him? Made him wonder what it might be like to see her in a more normal setting. Perhaps even take her out to dinner to see how long it would take for her allure to fade.

He’d thought a few times about contacting her—but what could he say, without falsely raising her hopes? No. He was doing her a favour by leaving her alone—that was what he needed to remember. Breaking hearts was his default mechanism—and no way would he wish that kind of pain on the passionate little housekeeper.

* * *

It was the most beautiful house Molly had ever seen. Pressing her nose against the icy-cold glass, she peered out through the taxi window at the sprawling manor house, whose gardens were a clever combination of wild and formal and seemed to go on for ever. Although the sky was pewter-grey, the light was bright with snow and everything was covered in white. Fat flakes tumbled like giant feathers from the sky, so that the scene in front of her looked like one of those old-fashioned Christmas cards you couldn’t seem to buy any more.

But Molly’s emotions were in turmoil as the cab inched its way up the snowy drive. She had underestimated the impact of leaving Cornwall because even though the job had left a lot to be desired, it had still been her home and her security for the last two years. More than that, her departure had been forced upon her in the most dramatic and shameful of ways. Suddenly she felt rudderless—like a leaf caught up by a gust of wind being swirled towards an unknown destination.

But even worse than her near-homelessness was the confirmation of her worst fears. That it hadn’t been stress or anxiety which had made her period so late. That the weird tugs of mood and emotion—like wanting to burst into tears or go to sleep at the most inopportune times—hadn’t been down to the worry of getting pregnant. She couldn’t even blame the sudden shock of losing her live-in job, or the corresponding jolt to her confidence. No, the reason had been made perfectly clear when she’d done not one, but two pregnancy tests in the overcrowded bathroom of the little boarding house she’d stayed in last night. With growing horror and a kind of numb disbelief she had sat back on her heels and stared at the unmistakable blue line, shaking with the shock of realising that she was pregnant with Salvio’s baby.

And wondering what the hell she was going to do about it.

But she couldn’t afford to think about that right now. The only thing she needed to concentrate on was doing her job—and as good a job as possible. She was going to have to tell him, yes, but not yet. Not right before his party and the arrival of his presumably high-powered guests.

She paid the driver and stepped out of the cab onto a soft blanket of snow. There were no other tyre marks on the drive and the only sign of life was a little robin hopping around as she made her way to the ancient oak front door, which looked like something out of a fairy tale. She knocked loudly, just in case—but there was no answer and so she let herself in with the keys she’d picked up from Salvio’s assistant, along with a great big wodge of cash for expenses.

Inside, everything was silent except for the loud ticking of a grandfather clock, which echoed through the spacious hallway, and the interior was even more beautiful than the outside had suggested. It spoke of elegance and money and taste. Gleaming panelled walls carved with acorns and unicorns. Huge marble fireplaces and dark floorboards scattered with silk rugs were illuminated by the sharp blue light which filtered in through the windows. Yet the beauty and the splendour were wasted on Molly. She felt like an outsider. Like the spectre who had arrived at the feast bearing a terrible secret nobody would want to hear. She felt like curling up in a ball and howling, but what was the point of that? Instead she forced herself to walk around the house to get her bearings, just as she would with any new job.