The Italian Count's Command Page 17
Cold air hit the warm skin of her back. Pulling away, she saw they were on the terrace outside. Dante’s entire body tensed and at first she thought it was the shock of the fresh air. But when she followed his glittering gaze she saw that he was staring down at Guido in the garden below.
Miranda’s hand flew to her mouth. Lizzie was in Guido’s arms and he was forcing her backwards while she struggled to avoid his marauding mouth.
Suddenly, before either Miranda or Dante could collect their wits, Lizzie freed a hand and brought it across Guido’s face with a resounding crack.
Hastily released, Lizzie said something obviously terse and to the point, and picking up the skirts of her dress, she stomped up the wide steps to the ballroom terrace.
‘Lizzie! Darling!’ Concerned, Miranda ran to her sister. ‘Are you all right?’
Lizzie nodded. Guido glared up at them all, his eyes so murderous that Miranda felt a chill freezing the bones of her spine. He strode angrily into the house through the library door below and she turned to her sister, who was checking her pinkened arm where Guido had grasped it.
‘I feel fine for giving him a slap!’ Lizzie declared. ‘And,’ she said, turning to the grim-faced Dante, ‘don’t think I was leading your brother on. I can see you’re inclined to blame me for that scene. Well, it’s about time you talked to a few people about your brother and asked them their honest opinion—’
‘Lizzie, please—!’ Miranda began nervously, fearing where this might lead.
‘No. This needs saying,’ her feisty sister retorted. ‘Ask the women in the office where he works, Dante. Ask the men there, too. He’s a groper. And a liar. Stop protecting your little brother and start seeing the truth for once. Ask yourself who you should trust. Your wife or your brother. Listen to your instincts, you idiot!’
Dante felt a shock run through him as though he’d been slapped too. It was true that he’d been appalled to see his brother handling Lizzie so roughly. Suddenly he recalled the many accusations from women that Guido had dated.
And for the first time, although he’d previously dismissed the idea as ridiculous, he began to wonder if it had been Guido who’d plied Miranda with drink that fateful night. His brother had clearly been in a panic…and he’d looked so guilty…
But he felt sure that Guido couldn’t have poured alcohol down Miranda’s throat unless she’d been willing. And she’d been stupid to sit in her bedroom and consume an entire litre of champagne. It was obvious what would happen next.
He clenched his jaw and pressed his hand to his forehead, trying not to pursue that thought. But images of Miranda, writhing luxuriously beneath his brother, kept intruding on his mind. It would explain the strange tensions between the two of them. And why she called out Guido’s name in the night.
He felt as though someone were slashing at his guts with knives. And couldn’t bear it much more. He felt as if he had been personally violated.
He stifled a groan. She claimed she loved him. But Guido insisted she was only saying that because he was the one with the title and the wealth. Dante felt the doubts pile into his mind. He had thought there was love in her eyes, but maybe he was fooling himself. Plenty of men were led a dance by clever women.
He couldn’t blame her. She’d had a dog’s life. Why shouldn’t she want a wealthy man to look after her for a change?
Maybe it was his fault that he had neglected Miranda in those days when he was visiting his dying uncle. He’d been exhausted keeping the business running and giving his uncle all his spare time.
During that period she’d been distant and more reserved than ever with him. Guido had explained why. That she’d been seeing other men behind his back. One of them being Guido, it seemed.
Dante gritted his teeth. At that time, his emotions had been strained to their limits by his beloved uncle’s failing health and he couldn’t handle the prospect of being hurt by her. So he’d kept his head and had been polite and cool in return.
Possibly, he mused, his brother had been preparing him for the fact that the ‘other man’ she’d fallen for was actually Guido himself…
‘Dante!’ Lizzie glared at him and gave his arm a little shake. He stared down at her, dazed. ‘What’s the matter?’ she demanded. ‘You’ve got to open your eyes and see what a lying little randy runt your brother is! I won’t stand by and see my sister’s life ruined by a jealous louse! She sacrificed her childhood for me,’ she went on vehemently. ‘She’s unselfish and loving and deserves better from you! All her life she’s had to hide her feelings and I’ve tried and tried to make her trust us with her emotions. You’re ruining everything. You’re forcing her to crawl back into her shell because she’s so scared of loving you too much and being rejected!’
Dante blinked, startled by Lizzie’s outburst. She was loyal and he admired her for that. But he still couldn’t forget the Technicolor pictures of Miranda and her lover that filled his head every waking minute. Torturing him.
Despairing of a solution to the situation, he looked into Lizzie’s bright, intense eyes and flushed face. And frowned at what he saw.
‘Are you drunk?’ he asked suspiciously.
‘I wish!’ Lizzie gave a rueful sigh.
Miranda’s arm went around her sister. ‘Lizzie’s been on orange juice all night. She’s on antibiotics,’ she explained quietly. ‘The sparkle is entirely due to sisterly indignation.’
His gaze swivelled to Miranda and his breath caught at her ethereal beauty. Something inside him snapped.
This couldn’t go on. He’d deal with this now. Confront his brother. Hear a blow-by-blow account of what had happened that night and get Guido to explain his strange manner. Then… He jammed his teeth together. Then it would be Miranda’s turn. He had to know why she moaned Guido’s name every damn night.
Without a word, he turned abruptly on his heel and went hunting.
Miranda watched him leave, her heart heavy. ‘Thanks for your support,’ she mumbled. ‘He won’t listen to the truth. I don’t know what to do. This is all such a mess.’
Lizzie patted her shoulder. ‘He’ll come round in time. I’m ashamed to say I enjoyed dealing with Guido. That slap was as much for you as it was for me. Oh! I almost forgot!’ she cried. ‘I’ve got the test here!’ She looked around, found they were unobserved, and slipped it from her bag.
Miranda gulped. ‘I—I c-can’t do it!’ she cried in panic.
‘You can. You will. I’ll come with you. Is there a quick way to your room?’
Miranda nodded dumbly, her throat dry with nerves. Prodded into action by Lizzie, she led her sister around the back of the house and up the servants’ stairs.
‘I’m so scared!’ she admitted, when they’d reached her suite of rooms.
‘Come on, toughie. Do it. For your peace of mind.’ Lizzie gave her a hug and pushed her into the bathroom. ‘And get a move on!’ she yelled as the door closed.
She forced herself to read the instructions. Then made herself go through with the test. And waited an eternity for the result.
Everything hinged on this. Her future with Dante and Carlo. Her happiness. She couldn’t bear to look. Kept her eyes tightly shut. Begged the fates to make it negative. Only then could she build the love between herself and Dante. Only then…
She glanced quickly down. Her eyes rounded in horror.
Positive!
Lizzie’s eyes were round with sympathetic dismay. ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.
‘What I always do,’ Miranda answered. ‘Cope.’
Dante searched everywhere, fuming when it seemed his brother had vanished into thin air. For half an hour he neglected his guests to no avail. The showdown would have to wait—but he’d hunt him down, he thought grimly, wherever he was. There’d be no escaping this confrontation.
Tense and edgy with frustration, he returned to mingle with his guests, exchanging pleasantries and trying to behave as though nothing had happened to blight his life.
‘Dante! I must compliment you. Your wife is stunning, the talk of Bellagio,’ murmured a voice by his elbow.
‘I think so too,’ he replied politely, not even registering who it was.
Following the gesturing hand, he then saw Miranda descending the grand staircase. His heart turned over as it always did. If only, he thought, jagged pains tearing through his body.
Vaguely he saw that Lizzie, dazzling in her scarlet and orange ball gown, was following Miranda, but he wasn’t interested in her. It was his wife who held his gaze as she glided like a swan through into the ballroom.
There was something extraordinary about her—as if she was in a world of her own: remote, detached, almost luminously pale. Among the five hundred people in glittering array, she stood out like a beacon of light. Slender, curvy, unbelievably sexy and yet oddly untouchable and fragile. He devoured her, everything about her.
The carriage of her body seemed more regal than usual, he thought. She was the colour of marble, but with high spots of colour on her cheeks. And so beautiful. His mouth tightened.
Someone spoke to her. A young man, evidently smitten. She remained charming but aloof to his flattery.
Dante tried not to be obsessed by her. With an effort, he responded courteously to the conversation of several people who’d drifted up to him and they teased him because his gaze continually strayed to Miranda.
Because there was something other-worldly about her. And it intrigued and touched him more than he could ever have imagined.
‘Yes,’ he found himself saying fervently. ‘I am fortunate. I love her with all my heart.’ And he knew that this was true. The knowledge rocked him.
‘I’ve noticed how she seeks you out all the time,’ someone murmured.
Across the room, his eyes met Miranda’s troubled gaze. He felt his body burst into life. The pain ebbed away. He tried a smile and she visibly quivered, her hand going to her mouth, her lovely eyes fixed mesmerically on his as if in a wordless plea of half-fearful hope.
It seemed that love flooded the entire room, filling his head with a dizzy sensation. It came to him then in a blinding flash. What had happened didn’t matter. He loved her and he had to trust her when she said she felt the same. He would concentrate on the way they felt now. Heal the marriage. His love was strong enough to overcome anything.
His expression became radiant as he turned to his gently amused—and envious—guests.
‘Permesso…’ he husked. ‘I’m going to tell her so, right now, if you’ll excuse me.’
Behind him, women sighed and men cleared their throats as he made his way a little unsteadily through the dancing couples towards her. She seemed to be waiting, with a brightness in her eyes that might have been tears or it might have been joy. He would find out, he thought happily.
And then, briefly diverted by an old family friend, he caught a glimpse of Guido, stealthily skirting the room as if looking for someone. He was torn, wanting to confront his brother, yet also longing to tell Miranda how he felt. Glancing back at Miranda, he saw that she was now surrounded by a group of people and hidden from sight.
He’d see Guido first. It would only take a moment and it was of the utmost importance. He and Miranda had all the time in the world to love one another. He would catch up with her in the garden and… He smiled. He would shower her with kisses. Beg her forgiveness. Tell her how much he loved her.
Detaching himself from his friend with practised expertise, he headed for his brother, who was standing to the left of a broad pillar—as if in hiding.
He frowned, then froze in his tracks as he watched Guido slip something from his pocket. Reaching around the pillar, Guido emptied a powder into a glass of orange juice which had been placed on a small table.
A woman’s hand picked up the glass. Although he couldn’t see who it was because of the pillar, there was no mistaking the bright scarlet and orange skirts pooling on the floor. Dante let out a hiss of hot breath. Guido had spiked Lizzie’s drink. Terror gripped him as everything began to slot into place. He knew what was happening. Didn’t want to acknowledge it, but the evidence was screaming at him.
In a state of shock he began to move towards his sister-in-law. The empty glass was set down on the table and he wanted to yell in despair but managed to restrain himself. This was too shameful to become public. To his frustration, it was impossible to make much progress because the floor was packed and everyone wanted to speak to him.
His brain whirled with a thousand thoughts clamouring to be heard. Truth upon sickening truth crashed into his mind as he tried to reach the unsuspecting Lizzie.
‘Dante! You look dreadful! What is it?’
He whirled at Miranda’s gentle query.
‘It’s Lizzie,’ he said tersely. ‘I think she’s in terrible trouble.’
Alarm flashed in Miranda’s eyes when she followed Dante’s gaze and saw her sister lurch into Guido’s waiting arms.
‘I don’t understand! She can’t be drunk!’ she cried, as she and Dante battled through the throng.
‘Drugged, I think,’ Dante gritted, fuming as his brother looped Lizzie’s arm around his neck and proceeded to drag her out of the room.
Miranda gasped, her face white when she looked at him. ‘Dante! Not…?’
‘I fear so,’ he replied shakily, the horror of his brother’s wickedness bleaching his taut skin.
Free of the crowd at last, he and Miranda began to run. He pulled out his mobile and called for an ambulance.
‘Guido!’ Miranda yelled and was startled by Guido’s fury when he jerked his head around and saw them as they caught up with him in the hallway.
‘It’s all right, I’ll deal with her,’ Guido said quickly. ‘She’s drunk. I’ll take her up to her room. Go back to your guests. OK, Liz?’
Lizzie’s flushed face lifted to Guido’s. Her eyes were unfocused. ‘Okey dokey,’ she said in a slow, slurred voice. Her legs collapsed beneath her.
‘How much have you knocked back?’ marvelled Guido. ‘What a little tramp! Doesn’t she know it’s not done to get drunk in public in this country?’
Dante swallowed hard. So glib. He couldn’t bear it. The lies slid off his brother’s tongue with appalling ease! It felt as if a steel clamp had crushed his chest. All his hopes for Guido, his love and loyalty and devotion, had been turned to ashes in his mouth.
‘She’s not drunk,’ he snarled. ‘She’s been ill. And she’s been on soft drinks all evening because she’s taking antibiotics. I’ve sent for an ambulance. For the moment, we’ll take her into the library.’
Alarm spread over Guido’s face but Dante’s superior strength and inner fury left Guido no option but to obey.
‘She is drunk!’ his brother protested, once the door had been kicked shut by Dante’s foot. ‘Cancel the ambulance—think of the publicity, the gossip! Look, leave me with her. I’ll keep a watch.’
Dante could hardly contain himself. But he kept silent until they had slid the unconscious Lizzie onto the sofa. And then he walked up to his brother. Before Guido knew what he was doing, he had thrust his hand into Guido’s pocket and extracted a vial.
As he read the label his breath hissed in. Black and storm-laden, his contemptuous gaze fixed on the cringing Guido.
‘I was right. You disgusting little pervert! This is a rape drug, isn’t it?’ he snarled as Guido moved back, whimpering denials. Nausea hit Dante’s stomach and he moved menacingly towards his terrified brother.
The room whirled as Dante’s words sank in. For a moment Miranda swayed, then she recovered, kneeling beside her sister and anxiously checking her pulse.
‘Are you all right? Can you look after Lizzie?’ Dante asked her grimly. ‘I have something I must do.’
‘I’m fine. I can cope,’ she said, ignoring the chaotic thoughts in her head. This was exactly what must have happened to her. Sickened, she clenched her jaw then forced herself to stay calm for Lizzie’s sake. ‘You deal with Guido. Get him out of our sight.’
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br /> As Miranda soothed her sister, Dante began to interrogate Guido in fast, biting Italian. She flicked a glance at his white face, his eyes burning black, his mouth a thin slit of fury as Guido replied. Unable to understand what was being said, she concentrated on Lizzie.
‘Women aren’t safe with you around!’ she heard Dante snarl.
‘It was a one-off!’ Guido protested desperately. ‘Two women who adored you—’
‘And all the others you’ve treated roughly over the years? What if another woman rejects you—will you take what you want and to hell with her? You know I can’t let this go. Dear God, Guido, have you any idea what you’ve done? What hell you’ve put us through? Miranda’s life is ruined. Mine. Carlo’s. Our marriage cracked. You are my brother, my flesh and blood, and I’m responsible for you but, by God, I won’t shirk from what I must do. Come with me. You’ve gone too far for this to be brushed under the carpet.’
Miranda shook at Dante’s grief. After a scuffle, Dante caught Guido’s arm in a lock behind his back. Ignoring his brother’s panic-stricken pleading, he drove Guido out of the room.
Trembling, she stroked Lizzie’s pale face, whispering comforting words to her. And she felt cold as ice inside because Dante had said quite clearly that their marriage was broken asunder. She fought back the tears and tried to think of Lizzie’s needs. After a while the door snapped open again and she jumped at the sound of Dante’s heavy tread. He came to kneel beside her.
‘Where’s Guido?’ she asked sharply.
‘With Luca and the gardener,’ Dante replied, his tone tightly controlled. ‘I’ve called the police. I want him put behind bars.’
Miranda’s eyes rounded. ‘Dante—!’
Sickly he shook his head as if he didn’t want to face what he’d done. ‘Lizzie—how is she?’ he growled.
Her heart went out to him but she knew he wanted time to get over the dreadful shame and humiliation of discovering the truth about his brother. Gently she said,
‘Her pulse is better than it was. I’ll be glad when the ambulance comes, though. It’s OK, sweetheart,’ she said softly to her sister. ‘I’m here—’