Bound By His Vow: His Final Bargain / The Rings That Bind / Marriage Made of Secrets

‘It is,’ Tatiana said. ‘Alessandra is a bright child but don’t let that strong will fool you. When it comes to her exercises she’s not well motivated. That is rather typical of a vision-impaired child. They can become rather passive. Our job is to increase her independence little by little.’

‘She seems small for her age.’

‘Yes, she’s on the lower percentile in terms of height and weight, but with more structured exercise she should catch up.’

‘Is there anything I can do to help while I have her on my own?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Tatiana said. ‘I’ll write out a list of games and activities. You might even think of some of your own. Signor Valente told me you are a teacher, yes?’

‘Yes. I teach a primary school class in a community school in London.’

‘Then you’re perfect for the job,’ Tatiana said. ‘What a shame you can’t be here permanently. Kathleen is a sweetheart but she gives in to Alessandra too easily.’

‘The post is only for a month,’ Eliza said, automatically fingering the diamond on her left hand. ‘I have to get back, in any case.’

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Tatiana said. ‘Leo Valente is a loving father, but like a lot of parents of children with special needs, he is very protective—almost too protective at times. I guess it’s hard for him, being a single parent.’

‘Did you meet Alessandra’s mother before she died?’ Eliza asked.

Tatiana’s expression said far more than her words. ‘Yes and I still can’t work out how those two ended up married to each other. I got the impression from Giulia it was a rebound relationship on his part.’ She blew out a breath as her gaze went to where Alessandra was sitting in her high chair. ‘I bet that’s a one-night stand he’s regretted ever since.’

Eliza could feel a wave of heat move through her cheeks. I’m sure it’s not the only one, she thought with a searing pain near her heart. ‘Leo loves his daughter. There can be no doubt of that.’

‘Yes, of course he does,’ Tatiana said. ‘But it’s probably not the life he envisaged for himself, is it? But then, lots of parents feel the same when they have a child with a disability. It’s hard to get specialised nannies. Children with special needs can be very demanding. But to see them reach their potential is very rewarding.’

‘Yes, I can imagine it is.’

‘At least Signor Valente has the money to get the best help available,’ Tatiana said. ‘But it’s true what people say, isn’t it? You can’t buy happiness.’

Eliza thought of Leo’s brooding personality and the flashes of pain she had glimpsed in his eyes. ‘No…you certainly can’t…’

The morning passed swiftly as Tatiana worked with Alessandra in structured play with Eliza as active observer. There were shape puzzles for Alessandra to do as well as walking exercises to strengthen her muscles and improve her coordination. The little toddler wasn’t good at walking on her own, even while holding someone’s hand. Her coordination and muscle strength was significantly poorer compared to children her age. And, of course, what was difficult to the little tot was then wilfully avoided.

Eliza could see how a tired and overburdened parent would give in and do things for their child that they should really be encouraging them to do for themselves. It was draining and exhausting just watching the little girl work through her exercises and, even though Tatiana tried to make the session as playful as possible, Alessandra became very tired towards the end. There was barely time for a few mouthfuls of lunch before she was ready for her nap.

Eliza sat in the anteroom and read a book she had brought with her, keeping an ear out for any sign of the little girl becoming restless. An hour passed and then half of another but the child slept on. She could feel her own eyelids drooping when Marella came to the door with a steaming cup of tea and a freshly baked cup cake on a pretty flowered plate.

‘You don’t have to stay here like a prison guard.’ Marella placed the tea and cake on the little table by Eliza’s chair. ‘There’s a portable monitor. Its range is wide enough to reach the gardens and the pool. Didn’t Signor Valente show you?’

‘No…I expect he had too many other things on his mind.’

Marella shook her head sadly. ‘Poor man. He has too much work to do and too little time to do it. He is always torn. He wants to be a good father but he has a big company to run. He’ll drive himself to an early grave just like his father did if he’s not careful.’

Eliza lowered her gaze to the cup of tea she was cradling in her hands. She thought of Leo getting through each day, feeling overly burdened and guilty about the competing demands of his life. Who did he turn to when things got a little overwhelming? One of his mistresses? How could someone he was just having sex with help him deal with his responsibilities? Did he turn to anyone or did he shoulder it all alone? No wonder he seemed angry and bitter a lot of the time. Maybe it wasn’t just her that brought out that in him. Maybe he was just trying to cope with what life had thrown at him—just like she was trying to do, with limited success.

‘I can imagine it must be very difficult for him, juggling it all.’

‘After you’ve had your tea, why don’t you take a stroll out in the garden?’ Marella said. ‘I’ll listen out for the little one. I’ll take the monitor with me. I’ll be on this floor in any case. I have to remake the bed the agency girl was using.’

Eliza could think of nothing better than a bit of sunshine. It seemed a long time since she had been in the fresh air. The villa was becoming oppressive, with its forbiddingly long corridors and large gloomy rooms. She put her cup down on the table. ‘Are you sure?’

‘But of course.’ Marella shooed her away. ‘It will do you good.’

The sun was deliciously warm as Eliza strolled about the gardens, the scent of roses thick and heady in the air. Was it her knowledge of Alessandra’s blindness that made the colours of the roses seem so spectacular all of a sudden? Deep blood reds, soft and bright pinks and crimson, variegated ones, yellow and orange and the snowy perfection of white ones. Even the numerous shades of green in the foliage of the other plants and shrubs stood out to her as she wandered past. She went past the fountain and down a crushed limestone pathway to a grotto that was protected by the shade of a weeping birch. It was a magical sort of setting, secluded and private—the perfect place for quiet reflection. She slipped off her cardigan and sat on the wrought iron bench, wondering how many couples through the centuries had conducted their trysts under the umbrella-like shade of the lush and pendulous branches.

The sound of a footfall on the stones of the pathway made Eliza’s heart give a little kick behind her ribcage. She stood up from the seat just as Leo came into view. He looked just as surprised to see her. She saw the camera-shutter flinch of his features in that nanosecond before he got control and assumed one of his inscrutable expressions.

‘Eliza.’

‘Marella told me to take a break. She’s listening out for Alessandra. She’s got the monitor. I didn’t know you had one; otherwise—’ she knew she was babbling but couldn’t seem to stop ‘—she told me it would be all right and—’

‘You’re not under lock and key.’

Eliza tried to read his expression but it was like trying to read one of the marble statues she had walked past earlier in the long wide gallery in the villa. She wondered if he had come down here to be alone. Perhaps it was his private place for handling the difficulties of his life. No wonder he resented her presence. She was intruding on his only chance at solitude.

‘I’d better head back.’ She turned to pick up her cardigan that she’d left on the seat.

‘What have you done to your arms?’

‘Um—nothing.’ She bunched the cardigan against her chest. It was too late to put it back on.

His frown brought his brows to a deep V above his eyes. ‘Did I…?’ He seemed momentarily lost for words. ‘Did I do that to you?’

‘It’s nothing…really.’ She began to turn away but he anchored her with a gentle band of his broad fingers around her wrist.

His touch was like a circle of flame. She felt the shockwave of it right to the secret heart of her. Her skin danced with jittery sensations. Her heart fluttered like a hummingbird and her breath halted in her throat like a horse refusing a jump.

‘I’m sorry.’ His voice was a deep bass—deeper than organ pipes. It made her spine loosen and quiver. It spoke to the primal woman in her, especially when he ever so gently ran one of his fingers over the marks he had made on her flesh. ‘Do they hurt?’

‘No, of course not.’ She was struggling to deal with her spiralling emotions. Why did he have to stand so close to her? How could she resist him when he was close enough for her to sense his arrantly male reaction to her? If she moved so much as an inch she would feel him.

Oh, how she wanted to feel him!

Could he see how much she ached for him? How desperate she was to have it taken out of her control, to be swept away to a world where nothing mattered but the senses he awakened and satisfied.

‘I’d forgotten how very sensitive your skin is.’ His fingers danced over her left forearm, leaving every pore screaming for more of his tantalising touch.

Eliza swallowed convulsively. This was going to get out of hand rather rapidly if he kept on with this softly-softly assault on her senses. She could fend him off when he was angry and bitter. She could withstand him—only just—when he was brooding and resentful.

But in this mood he was far more dangerous.

Her need of him was dangerous.

She pulled back from his loose hold but it tightened a mere fraction, keeping her tethered to him—to temptation. ‘I…I have to go…’ Her words sounded desperate, her breathing even more so. She fought to control herself. She didn’t want him to see how close to being undone she was. ‘Please…let me go…’

‘That was my mistake four years ago.’ He brought her even closer, his hands going to the small of her back, pressing her to his need. ‘I should never have let you go.’

‘It wasn’t a mistake.’ She tried to push against his chest but he wouldn’t budge. ‘I had to go. I didn’t belong with you. I don’t belong with you.’