Prisoner Of Passion Page 16

  ‘Bella, Hector’s not…?’

  ‘No, he’s still hanging in there.’ As she spoke he attempted to curve an arm round her. Jerking dizzily away and grabbing hold of the banister, she gasped, ‘Leave me alone!’

  Ignoring her demand, Rico closed his arms round her from behind. ‘Forgive me,’ he said tightly.

  She was too physically weak to fight him. ‘Why can’t you just go? I’ve been at the hospital all night and I’m not in the mood for you or any of this… It’s probably my fault he’s in there in the first place!’ she completed with a stifled sob, her hand flying up to her wobbling mouth.

  ‘It couldn’t possibly be your fault.’

  ‘He was upset when I moved in with you!’ she slung at him shakily.

  She heard him expel his breath.

  ‘Oh, just go away,’ she mumbled, barely able to stand, she felt so faint.

  ‘I’m not leaving you like this. I’ll take you back to my apartment—’

  ‘I’m staying here.’

  Rico swept her up into his arms. ‘You’re not well. You can’t stay here alone. You should be in bed.’

  ‘Someone should be here to answer the phone—’

  ‘Not you in the condition you’re in,’ Rico spelt out.

  He carried her out to the limo and there was nothing she could do to prevent him. All her concentration was bent on holding back the sick wooziness that was afflicting her. She would be all right once she had a couple of hours’ sleep but she could not understand why her body was letting her down so badly. Had she caught some bug? Worse, could she have put Hector at risk by sitting with him? She had never felt so drained in her entire life.

  When they reached the spacious apartment Bella crawled straight into bed. She had nothing to wear. Rico produced a silk pyjama jacket which she donned in silence. He said that he had called a doctor—a friend of his in the private sector—who had consulting rooms just down the street. Dully she nodded, relieved to notice that her nausea was beginning to recede.

  ‘Maybe it was something you ate,’ Rico suggested stiltedly.

  She said nothing.

  He sank down on the foot of the bed, searching her pinched profile. ‘Bella… we’d had a row,’ he reminded her in a tense undertone. ‘When I heard you’d gone off with Atherton naturally I was disturbed.’

  ‘The senior partner in Griff’s firm is Hector’s solicitor. He put Griff in charge of informing me about Hector’s heart attack. Griff had to drive all the way down to Winterwood because he couldn’t find out the phone number.’

  ‘How could I have known of that connection?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. I haven’t given you any grounds for thinking that I would behave like a tart,’ she muttered tightly. ‘I’m not your ex-wife and I won’t take the heat for her.’

  ‘I made a mistake,’ he acknowledged tautly.

  Bella felt horribly confused. Deep down inside she knew that she was going to forgive him but somehow she just couldn’t bring herself to tell him that yet.

  Loving someone who did not love you was an unrewarding road to humiliation, she reflected miserably. His distrust had bitten deep, hurting her badly at a moment when she was already struggling to cope. With Rico she had no defensive shell, and part of her deeply resented that vulnerability. She wanted to make him suffer and she was ashamed of that fact. How could you try to punish someone for not loving you?

  ‘Two mistakes,’ Rico adjusted flatly in the continuing silence. ‘I shouldn’t have asked Dai to call. But it seemed such a waste—all those fabulous paintings piling up. I’m proud of what you can do with that brush.’

  His weight left the mattress. Bella curved her face into the pillow, tears stinging her eyes. What a bitch she was! She was in the act of stretching out a forgiving hand when she heard the door open, the murmur of an unfamiliar voice. The doctor had arrived.

  He told her to call him George. He had one of those wonderfully round faces which instilled good cheer. Rico had barely left the room when Bella found herself sitting up and reeling off her symptoms with the subdued irritation of someone who was rarely ill. She submitted to an examination and answered one or two questions which struck her as highly irrelevant when she was suffering from a stomach disorder. But no doubt George knew his business better than she did.

  ‘You’re pregnant,’ he finally delivered very quietly.

  Bella changed her mind about him knowing his business. ‘No way,’ she told him, with a forced laugh at such an insane diagnosis.

  ‘Bella, I’m a consultant gynaecologist,’ he returned gently. ‘And if I’m wrong I ought to be back in medical school. First pregnancies in particular carry unmistakable signs. You are at least two months pregnant.’

  ‘But I had a—’ she began jerkily.

  He explained that sometimes what he described as a partially suppressed period could occur. Bella went into cold shock while he talked to her about not pushing herself too hard and taking proper rest.

  ‘Don’t tell him!’ she begged abruptly.

  He reminded her of patient confidentiality and she apologised, so shattered by what he had told her that she could hardly think straight. He paused at the door, clearly troubled by her reaction.

  ‘Bella, Rico’s very fond of children. You should see him with mine,’ he said ruefully.

  So Rico liked other people’s children. What did that mean? Feeling weak, she lay down again. Her hand slid down unsteadily to her still flat stomach. She struggled to accept that there was a baby growing inside her—a baby conceived weeks ago while she had been convincing herself that no such conception could take place.

  She had been as foolishly naive as an uninformed teenager, she realised. There was no such thing as a fail-safe time to make love. There was always a risk. And Rico had ironically been far more concerned by the possibility than she had been … probably because it was the very last thing he wanted to happen.

  The door opened.

  ‘George was very cagey,’ Rico said impatiently.

  ‘It’s just a stupid stomach upset—probably that breakfast I ate at the hospital,’ Bella volunteered, and forced herself to turn over and meet his enquiring gaze. ‘I’m glad it wasn’t anything that could have put Hector at risk of infection. Now all I want to do is sleep.’

  Just looking at Rico suddenly tore her heart in two. She searched his strong, dark face, read the relief there, and knew she deserved an Oscar for her performance-but then it was wonderful what fear could do. It sharpened the wits and in the short term chose deception over honesty. She wasn’t ready yet to share such devastating news, was already wondering how she would ever bring herself to share it.

  ‘I’ll go back to the hospital in the afternoon,’ she added, dropping her head back down on the pillow as if she were too exhausted to stay awake.

  She closed her eyes, knowing that it would take a miracle for sleep to overcome her now. For it was over—she and Rico—over, finished, destroyed. Fate had had the last laugh of all. Secure in the belief that there was no question of her being pregnant, Rico had been brutally frank. A baby was a complication he did not want. She told herself that she was lucky to know his true feelings on the subject. Who could tell how he might have felt forced to react if she had discovered that she was pregnant a month ago?

  Certainly he wouldn’t have felt disposed to offer marriage, but he might well have felt that sensitivity demanded that he conceal just how appalled he was by the news. She didn’t want pretences like that between them. Honesty was always the best policy, but oh, God, how it could hurt sometimes…

  She drove back the pain consuming her, calling herself a coward. Their affair would have burnt out on his side anyway sooner or later. Now it would just happen sooner and she would be the one to make the break. She had no choice.

  Just as Cleo had once made Bella welcome—a child unplanned and unsupported by any man—Bella would do the same for her child. It was that simple. But she felt horribly guilty. How could she have b
een so reckless? Whenever she had thought of becoming a mother she had always believed that the event would take place within a stable, loving relationship.

  By three in the afternoon Bella was up again under her own steam. Incredibly she had dozed off. She showered and changed into the fresh clothes which she had flung into an overnight bag the previous day at Winterwood. Physically she felt much better but inside herself she felt dead.

  She had woken up with the knowledge of what she had to do. Break it off, finish it… get it over with! Hector’s illness and her argument with Rico, which now seemed so pitifully unimportant, had supplied a natural break. When she came back from the hospital this evening she would tell him.

  Since she had assumed that he was back at the bank, it was a shock when Rico strode out of the drawing room as she was heading for the ball. She froze, shielding her startled eyes with her lashes.

  ‘You were in the shower when I came to wake you up. How do you feel?’

  ‘Fine now,’ she said stiffly.

  ‘I’ve ordered a light meal for you.’

  ‘Thanks, but I’m—’

  ‘Bella, be sensible.’ He pressed her into the dining room where a place for one was already laid at the gleaming table. ‘You have to try to eat something. Hector’s fine, by the way. You don’t need to rush.’

  His manservant appeared out of nowhere and a beautifully cooked omelette was slid in front of her. Her hands trembled as she reached out for the knife and fork. ‘I thought you’d be at the bank,’ she said once the man had gone.

  ‘I took the afternoon off.’

  She couldn’t eat; she just couldn’t eat. She replaced the cutlery again, studied the table with anguished eyes and then cleared her throat. ‘You remember we decided on seeing how it went for a month?’ she whispered in a rush. ‘Well, it’s not working for me any more and I think you must feel—’

  ‘Eat before I force-feed you,’ Rico broke in, as if he were talking to a difficult child.

  Bella stood up and backed away from the table. ‘Rico, listen to me,’ she muttered tightly, crossing her arms and turning away from him, unable to stay still. ‘This is nothing to do with those stupid arguments we had…please believe that. But sometimes a crisis makes you see more clearly—’

  ‘You’re so blind right now, gatita,’ Rico interposed in the same indulgent tone, ‘that you’d fall over your own feet. Our relationship has nothing to do with Hector’s heart attack.’

  ‘That isn’t what I was going to say!’ she protested, in so much turmoil that she couldn’t even keep her voice steady. Involuntarily her look clashed with steady dark eyes and she hurriedly averted her gaze again. ‘The point is… The point is,’ she repeated doggedly, ‘that two months ago we were kidnapped, and in the grip of that trauma sex got involved and—’

  ‘Sex got involved the first time I laid eyes on you,’ he proffered without shame. ‘The trauma of being kidnapped had nothing to do with it.’

  Bella ignored that. She didn’t trust herself to look at him, couldn’t afford to be tempted. ‘What I realise now is that we sort of became dependent on each other in that container, and I don’t want to be dependent any more. I want my freedom back.’

  ‘I might be more impressed if you looked me in the face and told me that,’ he drawled with derision.

  Bella looked up, blocked him out, a terrible pain scything through her. ‘It’s over. I’m sorry but that’s the way it is.’

  ‘You are one lousy liar,’ Rico said grimly, crossing the room in one long, menacing stride. ‘What the hell is going on here?’

  Before he could reach her Bella dived for the door. In seconds she was out of the apartment and into the mercifully waiting lift. She made it out onto the busy street at speed. Sobs were tearing at her convulsing throat. She dashed her hand across her streaming eyes, devastated by the force of her emotions. Then she drew in a deep, slow breath and walked on down the street.

  CHAPTER TEN

  AN HOUR later Bella was sitting by Hector’s bedside with the fixed expression of someone in shock and striving to hide it. He had already been moved out of Intensive Care and into a private room. But while she had been asleep at the apartment Rico had visited him.

  ‘Absolute nonsense for you to think my dicky heart had anything to do with your love life,’ Hector was telling her in reproof. ‘I had an attack three years ago, as you very well know. As for you and Rico… well, times have changed and he seems very fond of you—’

  ‘Fond of me?’

  ‘Why else would he invite me to Winterwood to convalesce?’

  ‘He’s done what?’ she squeaked, shattered by the news.

  ‘I must say I’m really looking forward to seeing the house again.’ He sighed fondly. ‘When it belonged to the Cliffords in the fifties I was a regular visitor there—’

  ‘But I thought you were planning on a convalescent home?’

  ‘Rico told me what that would cost.’ Weak as he was, Hector all but shuddered in recollection.

  ‘How clever… I mean, how conscientious of him to have found out for you,’ she managed with the greatest difficulty. ‘But I could look after you at home if you like.’

  ‘Not with that showing at the Matheison Gallery coming up. I wouldn’t dream of it.’

  Bella’s nails dug into her palms like talons. Ten minutes with Hector had sent her from utter despondency to sheer rage. Rico had trussed her up like a goose ready for the oven! Perfectly well aware that their relationship was in deep water, he had ensured that it would be virtually impossible for her to move out. Hector was positively looking forward to a break in the country which would cost him not a penny and where he would be waited on hand and foot.

  How could she now announce that she had broken up with Rico? That was no longer the news which she had innocently imagined would cheer Hector up. Indeed, she had the hideous suspicion that Hector, who liked very few people, had decided to make an exception of Rico.

  As he drifted off to sleep he was mumbling about what ingenious ideas Rico had on the enthralling subject of reducing expenditure and making the most of a small income. Fit to be tied, Bella stalked out of the room.

  She found Rico standing in the small waiting area at the end of the corridor. He watched her striding towards him with supreme cool.

  ‘You devious toe-rag!’ she launched at him from ten feet away.

  “‘A slippery and subtle knave,”’ Rico murmured smoothly.

  ‘Don’t you dare quote Shakespeare at me!’ she hissed in fury. ‘How could you use an old man like that… how could you?’

  ‘If you don’t lower your voice, I shall treat you exactly as if you were the child you are choosing to emulate,’ he drawled in a whiplash tone. ‘Now take a deep breath and calm down… right now.’

  Her outraged eyes shimmered. She buttoned her mouth shut, not trusting herself to speak. She wanted to slap him and he knew it and he wasn’t impressed. Flinging her a grim glance, he stood back for her to enter the waiting lift.

  ‘We’ll talk in the car,’ he told her.

  Bella shot into the back seat of the limousine like a spitting cat, temper still blazing through her. ‘How dare—?’

  ‘Be silent,’ Rico said sharply. ‘You cannot make accusations of that variety and expect to get away with it. Hector Barsay may not be a blood relative but you are very attached to him. Since he was also a friend of my late father’s for many years, I naturally felt that I should visit him.’

  Gritting her teeth, she studied her tightly clenched hands. So far, so good, but there was no way he could explain himself out of what he had done during that visit.

  ‘When I saw him earlier you were sulking—’

  ‘I do not sulk—’

  ‘You sulk,’ Rico assured her. ‘We had had an argument, but when I went to that hospital I had no idea that when I returned to the apartment you would announce that our relationship was at an end.’

  Bella swallowed hard. It was a point she had to con
cede.

  ‘Hector doesn’t want to go to a home where he will be surrounded by strangers. He also misses you a great deal. That I should offer him hospitality was a natural progression from those facts. At Winterwood he will have every comfort but he will also have the privacy which is so important to him.’

  ‘All right, I’m sorry,’ Bella muttered from between clenched teeth. ‘But where does that leave us now?’

  ‘You appear to have already made that decision,’ Rico retorted drily. ‘I gather you didn’t tell him the truth?’

  ‘How could I?’ she demanded fiercely.

  ‘Especially when you would have looked a little stupid when I’d told him that you were staying put.’

  She looked at him for the first time. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  Hooded dark eyes rested intently on her. ‘You’ve been crying. Your nose is still pink.’

  ‘Thank you so much for telling me,’ she mumbled in a wobbly voice, suddenly feeling tearful again and ready to scream at the hormonal upheaval of pregnancy. Of course, that was what was the matter with her.

  ‘We’re going back to Winterwood,’ he informed her.

  ‘I’m going back to Hector’s house.’

  ‘I have the keys. I’m not giving them to you until you calm down.’

  ‘I am perfectly calm,’ Bella bit out furiously. ‘Give me those keys! I don’t know what I’m going to do when Hector comes out of hospital but that has to be a few weeks away and I’ll deal with it then!’

  ‘You’re not getting those keys.’

  ‘And you call me childish?’

  But he didn’t answer her. Her throat was thick with clogged tears. Defensively she turned her head away again. In a sense this was all her own fault. Back at the apartment she had not been prepared to face Rico. She had not had time to work out what she needed to say to sound convincing.