LITMIR.BIZ

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to be responsible for that miscarriage.

      Dutifully seating herself in front of the long mirror in its ornate gilded frame, she watched Rosa working on her hair, brushing it back from her face and securing it neatly in a French pleat.

      It had been the first grand dinner party Aldo had thrown on their return from honeymoon, she remembered with a stab of the usual pain. Mainly for the benefit of business associates and friends who hadn’t been able to attend the wedding and be introduced to his new bride at the lavish reception.

      Iolanda, as Aldo’s executive PA, had been there, oozing the understated chic Italians were so good at. Her svelte, cool loveliness had made Cat feel gaudy and overdressed in her swirly skirted, bootlace-strapped confection in her favourite shade of vibrant scarlet.

      Wandering out onto the terrace to catch a breath of the cool evening air, Iolanda had joined her. As the only unpartnered guest at the gathering Cat had made a point of drawing Iolanda into the conversation around the dinner table so she wouldn’t feel left out. So her smile was wide as she acknowledged the other woman.

      ‘I would like to talk to you,’ Iolanda said.

      ‘That’s nice! It’s getting rather stuffy inside, isn’t it?’ Perhaps, being on her own, the other woman was feeling a bit out of things now that dinner was over and the guests circulating, forming chattering groups. ‘Shall we find somewhere to sit? There are seats—’

      ‘No.’ The other woman cut across her, a note of impatience in her drawl. ‘This will only take moments. In view of the situation I thought we ought to be properly introduced.’

      ‘I thought we had been.’ Cat smiled, puzzled, wondering if she’d missed something. Iolanda shook her head slowly, her smooth, raven-dark hair gleaming in the overflow of light from the main salon, her answering smile slight, tight and superior.

      ‘Not really. You are Aldo’s wife. I am Aldo’s mistress. Ordinarily, we would of course know of each other’s existence but we would not meet. Discretion in such matters is important—that is understood. But as Aldo and I work so closely together our occasional meetings cannot be avoided. I thought we should understand our positions. Suspicions and speculations only make life uncomfortable, as I’m sure you would grow to learn when you have done your duty and given him an heir and he begins to spend more time away from you than with you and you wonder why.’

      Again that hateful, superior little smile that left Cat speechless with a mixture of rage and disbelief at what she was hearing. ‘That being said, I would strongly advise you against making a fuss about a situation which a man in Aldo’s position regards as being absolutely normal. An hysterical fuss would only serve to estrange him from you entirely and do you no good at all.’

      ‘There—all done.’ Rosa stepped back, surveying the neat outcome of her ministrations with satisfaction. ‘I’ll leave you to do your make-up. Be sure you cover up those dark circles round your eyes and put some colour on your cheeks!’

      Cat watched her reflection with no enthusiasm at all. She no longer looked like herself. Her exuberant hair had been flattened and tamed, her mouth drooped and her eyes looked haunted.

      She’d been stunned, knocked speechless by what Iolanda had said, but she hadn’t believed a word of it. She’d refused to let herself believe it. The woman was obviously a raving idiot! Iolanda wanted Aldo for herself and was out to make mischief.

      Having every intention of telling Aldo of his assistant’s crazed lies, she’d changed her mind when as soon as the last guest had departed he’d swept her up in his arms and carried her up the sweeping staircase.

      ‘I don’t know how I’ve managed to keep my hands off you!’ he breathed rawly. ‘All evening long I’ve wanted to rip your clothes off, bury myself inside you and make endless, endless love to you!’

      And he’d done just that, she remembered with a fierce stab of pain. He’d ripped the scarlet dress right from the dipping neckline to the swirly-flirty hem, the wild, fiery passion of his lovemaking making a complete nonsense of Iolanda’s wicked lies. Mentioning what the other woman had said would be a mistake. He would think she was only asking for reassurance, didn’t trust him, and would resent it. Far more sensible to dismiss the distasteful episode from her mind.

      But later, listening to the soft sound of his regular breathing, the first uncomfortable pinpricks of doubt had crept in as she’d wondered why the only real closeness they ever achieved was between the sheets, and why he always turned his back on her and immediately fell asleep after making love with her.

      Having sex, she tiredly corrected. The only time he’d mentioned the word love had been when he’d confessed that he didn’t believe in the condition. And had he only completely ruined her dress because he’d thought that was all the gaudy thing was fit for? Would he have treated Iolanda’s elegant, wildly expensive black sheath with the same total lack of respect?

      Turning on her side, she’d watched the first light of dawn filter through the partly closed window blinds. Perhaps there was a useful lesson she could learn. When in Rome, etc…

      And so she’d set about turning herself into the type of woman Aldo would most respect and admire. If she couldn’t have his love she could at least do her best to earn his respect.

      Her still vibrant enthusiasm for every new project she took on board had ensured that her clothes were now the last word in unmistakable, understated Italian chic, her unmanageable mane of chestnut hair shortened and skillfully layered, ‘Molto elegante!’ her horrendously expensive hairdresser had assured her, and she always wore spindly high heels to make sure her free-swinging stride was a thing of the past.

      But her rapid transformation hadn’t made a scrap of difference. He’d remained almost painfully polite and considerate, but distant. His eyes never smiled into hers, reminding her of shared intimacies the way lovers did; he never touched her except in bed.

      When her pregnancy had been confirmed, her by then rapidly dwindling hope that things could be different between them soared high. That they had changed but not in the way she had wanted was something she hadn’t foreseen, not in her worst nightmares.

      Iolanda’s words had come back to haunt her. ‘You’ll understand when you’ve done your duty and given him an heir and he starts to spend more time away from you than with you.’ She hadn’t given him an heir, she’d lost the precious baby she’d been longing for, but the signs had been there for anyone to see. As soon as he’d known of her pregnancy he’d wanted little more to do with her, his only concern the well-being of the child she was carrying.

      Her stomach churning sickeningly at the memories that seemed to confirm everything that venomous woman had told her, Cat stood up from the dressing table, smoothing the silk of her dress over hips which were not as snake-like as Iolanda’s, but getting there. Rosa was right—since she’d been banished after her miscarriage she had lost a lot of weight.

      Facing her husband and his mistress with some semblance of dignity was the only thing she must make herself concentrate on right now, she decided with a welcome resurgence of the determination that had been absent for a long time.

      But it drained away the moment the bedroom door swung open, revealing Aldo. He had the same unnerving impact on her as he’d had the very first time she’d set eyes on him. He took her breath away.

      His dark business suit fitted his lean body to perfection and the crisp white shirt emphasised the bronzed skin of his austerely beautiful features. Cat veiled her eyes quickly. He was so unfairly gorgeous she couldn’t bear to look at him.

      ‘Caterina…’ His voice was harsh; he had never directed that tone towards her before. His politeness had been the hallmark of their relationship.

      Her puzzled eyes flickered upwards and met the glittering darkness of his. There were lines of strain on his face. She’d never noticed them before. ‘You came here to recuperate, to regain your strength,’ he condemned. ‘What have you been doing to yourself?’

      The heavy thumping of her

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