The Mistress Wife Read online

  Two days later, she was giving a lecture based on the textbook she had written on ferns while she was still a student and she almost succumbed to nervous panic when she saw Lucca Saracino in the back row. Afterwards, he was waiting with his sister Serafina to invite her out to lunch and Vivien tried to make a gracious refusal.

  ‘Please…’ the bubbly brunette pressed with determination. ‘Everybody knows how shy you are but Lucca only wants to thank you for letting me wail all over you when I was so unhappy.’

  ‘Untrue. I would like to enjoy the simple pleasure of your company, Dr Dillon,’ Lucca contradicted, stunning dark eyes making her mouth run dry and her tummy flip.

  Reluctant to hurt his sister’s feelings, Vivien acquiesced. Over the meal, she barely touched her food while Lucca planted subtle personal questions that she did not have the conversational dexterity to avoid answering.

  Afterwards, Serafina rushed off to a lecture and, when Vivien attempted to imitate that fast exit, Lucca said with a mixture of amusement and faint annoyance, ‘Why have you decided not to like me?’

  ‘Where on earth did you get that idea?’ Vivien protested, writhing in embarrassment at the depth of his insight.

  Yet in truth she did not know what to say to him or even what she was feeling. There was no way she would have confessed to a living soul and least of all him that from the moment she first saw him she had not existed a minute without thinking of him in some way. He was a stranger and yet he was not. In that initial fleeting meeting some connection had been forged that she could not shake off.

  He asked her out to dinner, the date to be of her choosing so that she could not fall back on the excuse of pleading a prior engagement. She was astonished by that expression of personal interest on his part because she had simply assumed that the wicked attraction he exuded for her was a one-sided thing.

  ‘I think you are very beautiful,’ Lucca informed her with the enjoyment of a male who could read her mind.

  ‘I’m not at all beautiful!’ Vivien argued, defiant in her conviction that she was being fed a nonsensical line. Assuring him quite truthfully that she didn’t date and less truthfully that there was nothing personal in her lack of interest, she fled.

  Every day after that, for two entire weeks, he sent her the most beautiful flowers, wonderful imaginative offerings that went far beyond standard bouquets. On the third weekend, Lucca arrived at her small apartment with dinner in a picnic basket. He charmed his way into her home and with glorious cool served them both with a gorgeous meal. Only when he was leaving did he ask her out again.

  ‘You’re crazy,’ she muttered in despair at his utterly single-minded pursuit. ‘Why would someone like you even want to go out with me?’

  ‘I can’t think about anything else.’

  ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘You can’t think of anything else either.’ Lucca delivered that coup de grâce without hesitation. ‘What has sense to do with this?’

  But for Vivien sense had everything to do with it. She did not chase rainbows and she always respected her own limitations. She knew that she was useless with men and she was far too cautious to give her heart to someone who would treat it and her like a football once he had got bored. Yes, it hurt almost intolerably to deny her helpless craving to be with him, but to have him and lose him again would be much worse. So she laughed in the face of his boundless confidence, unwilling to acknowledge that he was right on target.

  He began phoning her, but only occasionally. She began waiting for his calls and was disappointed and unable to settle when they didn’t come. On the phone she found him endlessly entertaining without being threatening and she continued to deny the growing strength of her own feelings. Meanwhile her peace of mind evaporated and her once total absorption in her work vanished. She had no idea that Lucca was steadily breaking down her defences until she dropped into Serafina’s leaving party in the summer term and saw him with another woman. Literally torn apart by the most violent sense of betrayal, she was finally forced to confront the power of her emotional attachment to Lucca Saracino…

  Emerging from that energising recollection of the past into the even more challenging present, Vivien registered that once again she was in a very similar position. She gazed out the windows of the limo and saw nothing. Exactly what were her feelings for her husband? As soon as she had read Jasmine Bailey’s confession, she had dropped everything in her urgent need to see Lucca. It was true that honour demanded that she immediately make every effort to express her regret for not having had greater faith in him two years earlier. But was that really the only reason she had fired off like a rocket to London?

  Vivien found herself squirming at that inner question but she made herself answer it truthfully. And the answer was so self-serving she was thoroughly ashamed of herself. The instant the barrier of Lucca’s supposed infidelity had been swept from her path, she had wanted him back. Without the smallest fore-thought she had approached him in the desperate hope of saving their marriage before the divorce went through. Wasn’t that what her real motivation had been? Hopefully Lucca remained in blissful ignorance of her foolish secret hopes. So did that mean she just went back home because he had told her to go back home? Was that it? Had she really made her best effort?

  She found herself striving to remember how many rejections Lucca had swallowed before she’d finally surrendered and agreed to go out with him. Lucca was very proud yet, three years ago, he had persisted in spite of her rebuffs. It would have been so much easier for Lucca to walk away and choose one of the many women who would have been flattered by his interest and immediately responsive. But Lucca had decided that he wanted her and he had not let pride get in the way of that objective.

  Vivien straightened her bent spine as though someone had jabbed a well-aimed hat-pin into a tender part of her anatomy. At the first taste of embarrassment and hurt pride, she had been ready to give up. Shame enveloped her. Just three short years ago, Lucca had fought for her…did she have the courage to fight for him? And for their marriage? Was she prepared to ditch her pride and make the effort to persuade Lucca that their marriage could still have a chance? It did not take much time for her to make a decision: existing without Lucca was like being only half alive.

  The limousine was already drawing into the station to drop her off and she clambered out for want of anything better to do. Noticing the ice-cream stains on her skirt, which she had forgotten, she groaned. She would have to buy a change of clothes before she could make a second call on Lucca, who had long since impressed her with the reality that whether she approved or otherwise, people made value judgements on the basis of appearance.

  It took some time for her to find her way back to an area where she was familiar with the shops and it took even longer for her to locate a suitable outfit. Stiff with reluctance, for she absolutely loathed wearing anything that attracted the least attention to her person, Vivien chose an ice-blue dress. Lucca had always preferred to see her clothed in light, bright colours. Letting the pale golden weight of her hair fall loose round her shoulders, she brushed it smooth.

  She took a taxi to the elegant residential square where Lucca now owned a Georgian townhouse. His interior designer had sold illicit pictures to a glossy magazine and Bernice had drawn her sister’s attention to the article. It seemed especially ironic to Vivien that Lucca should finally have given up the vast minimalist apartment that she had loathed only after their marriage had broken down.

  Her body taut with tension, she climbed out of the taxi with thoughts that were wholly dominated by the enervating challenge of what she should say to Lucca. Someone shouted her name and, when she glanced up in surprise, a man with a camera took a picture of her and urged her to stay where she was to enable him to take another. At the same time other people were running across the road towards her, shouting questions. For a split second she was so taken aback by the onslaught, she was paralysed to the spot, and then she dropped her head and raced as
fast as she could up the steps to ring the bell on Lucca’s front door.

  The paparazzi crowded round her in a suffocating crush. ‘How do you feel about Jasmine Bailey now, Mrs Saracino?’

  ‘You were seen at your husband’s office this afternoon.’ A microphone was thrust in Vivien’s stricken face and more cameras clicked. ‘Is it true that Lucca made you wait for hours before he would agree to see you?’

  ‘Are you aware that Lucca is currently seeing Bliss Masterson? She’s one of the most beautiful women in the world. How does that make you feel? Do you find that intimidating?’ Horrified by the shocking intrusiveness of that cruel interrogation, and backed up against the door in her desperate desire to escape, Vivien could easily have fallen when the door opened abruptly. Happily, a strong arm braced her and lifted her smoothly over the threshold.

  ‘Vivien…are you trying to save your marriage?’ the last reporter screeched like a vulture just before the door thudded shut.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Wearing an expression of concern, her rescuer urged her down into a chair in the huge gracious hall. It was Arlo, Lucca’s Chief of Security, who had always been very kind to her

  ‘F-fine…’ Vivien stammered, her teeth chattering together while she struggled to still the tremors of shock still coursing through her slender body.

  ‘That’s good, cara.’ Another, infinitely less sympathetic voice interposed from several feet away. ‘I would hate to be deprived of the opportunity of telling you that coming here tonight has to be the stupidest thing you have ever done!’

  CHAPTER THREE

  AGHAST at that condemnation, Vivien focused on Lucca as he strode towards her. The sight of him transfixed her and slashed like a cruel blade through her concentration. She, who had always liked to argue that looks were a superficial thing and not half so important as intellect and personality, was utterly dazzled by Lucca’s raw masculine vibrancy. He was so gorgeous that just looking at his lean, strong face and hard, powerful body made her feel dizzy and weak.

  ‘How on earth can you say that?’ Vivien fumbled and found those words with difficulty and rose hurriedly up from the chair to defend herself. Lucca would steamroller over her and verbally pound her into submission if she did not fight back.

  ‘It was obvious that the press would pounce at the first sign that you were reacting to the Bailey woman’s confession!’ Lucca proclaimed, his anger given a keener edge by the shocked pallor of fright that she still wore.

  ‘I was so wound up by all this,’ Vivien admitted ruefully with the frankness that was a great part of her charm, ‘that I’m afraid that that risk just didn’t occur to me.’

  ‘But it should’ve done.’ Lucca was too exasperated to be softened by the genuine regret clouding her lovely green eyes. Tomorrow the newspapers would carry unflattering photos of her clad like a tiny fragile ghost in a very strange wispy dress with fluttering sleeves and a fussy handkerchief hem. A fashion accident of pile-up proportions, it had most probably leapt right off the hanger into Vivien’s appreciative arms.

  ‘Yes…do you think I could have a drink?’ Vivien enquired in an apologetic undertone, for she was still feeling distinctly unsteady on her feet. But then it was hardly surprising that she should feel faint when she had not eaten since breakfast-time, she conceded ruefully. Recalling the restorative powers of the brandy she had imbibed in Lucca’s office, she decided to temporarily set aside her objections to alcohol and make use of it on what was a momentous occasion.

  Another drink? Lucca was startled by her request and hugely disapproving. Had she begun drinking since their separation? He thrust wide the door of an imposing reception room decorated in cool shades of blue.

  Vivien fiddled with one trailing sleeve, hands so restless she wished she could fold them up and put them away. ‘I know you have to be wondering why I’ve come back to see you…’

  ‘You couldn’t find you way back to the train?’

  Chagrined colour laced her tense pallor and her chin came up. ‘This is serious—’

  ‘Sì…’ A slanting smile that was somehow an insult formed on Lucca’s beautifully moulded mouth as he extended a brandy goblet. ‘Here we are practically divorced and all of a sudden you’re in my face. Quite unexpectedly, I’m very much in demand. You say this is serious. Is it?’

  Vivien stood very straight, green eyes strained. ‘Please don’t be like this…I don’t know how to get through to you when you’re in this kind of mood.’

  Lucca sent her a shimmering glance, dense black lashes low over dangerous golden eyes. ‘Perhaps if you had known that this day would come you might have acted differently during our separation—’

  ‘If I had had foreknowledge of that hateful woman’s confession today, there would never have been a separation!’ Vivien protested with strong feeling.

  ‘Two years ago you took a stranger’s word over mine and that was the end of our marriage,’ Lucca fenced back, cold as ice that burned.

  Frantic though Vivien was to remind him of just how things had been between them at the time, she was afraid to add fuel to the flames of his hostility. ‘There was a distance between us then…you know there was. We hardly saw each other those last weeks. You were in New York, then you were on the yacht—’

  ‘You could have been with me,’ Lucca slotted in lethally.

  Vivien knotted her restless hands together and then moved them apart in a gesture of frustration. ‘You worked such long hours—’

  ‘I warned you about that when I married you,’ Lucca interposed crushingly.

  ‘I had to have my studies to keep me busy. Lucca, please give me your whole attention for a couple of minutes so that I can say what I need to say,’ Vivien pleaded.

  Lucca contrived to look eaten alive with boredom without either speaking or moving a muscle.

  Her fingers knotted tight by her sides. ‘I made a mistake…a hideous, horrible mistake and I admit that. I also understand that you’re very angry.’

  Lucca parted perfect masculine lips.

  ‘Shut up…don’t say anything!’ Vivien hurried into adding. ‘I know I have a lot of making up to do and that sorry doesn’t cover it. But I also know that when I was with you I was happier than I had ever been in my life before.’

  Lucca expelled his breath in a slow measured hiss of self-restraint. How was he supposed to believe that?

  High spots of pink bloomed over Vivien’s taut cheekbones. ‘I would do just about anything to get that happiness back.’

  Anger flared like distant lightning in his steady scrutiny. ‘You had it and you threw it away again, cara. What you’re feeling now is not my problem.’

  Vivien flinched. His dark-as-night eyes were hard as diamonds that cut glass. But although innate caution urged her to cut and run before she spelt out her intentions any more clearly, she could not bear to remain silent. The least she owed him was her honesty. ‘I accept that…but I’ve also learned a lot about myself in the last few hours. I haven’t been happy since I left you.’

  ‘That’s sad, but good to know,’ Lucca confided without a shade of remorse, remembering how she had looked on their Tuscan honeymoon: adoring green eyes full of joy, soft full mouth curved into a shy smile of contentment. An intimate recollection of her slim, eager body splayed across linen sheets followed and ignited his all-male libido.

  Vivien collided with brilliant eyes as dark as jet. When the darkness of his intent gaze suddenly flamed gold, her heart lurched as though Lucca had aimed a kick at it. Her breath trapped in her dry throat, she stared back, her heartbeat pounding behind her ribs, her slight figure held taut with unbearable tension. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice, only the fear that gripped her was also laced with helpless longing. The desire she had made herself forget during their separation had flared up again inside her as though someone had tossed a flaming torch on a bale of hay.

  Her voice emerged husky and breathless as she forced herself to concentrate long enough to say w
hat she knew she needed to say. ‘I still have feelings for you and I’m asking you to give our marriage another chance. I want you back.’

  Intense satisfaction of the darkest kind engulfed Lucca when he was already on an angry high of lust. ‘You want me back?’

  So tense that her muscles were hurting, Vivien jerked her chin in affirmation. ‘Yes. I want you back,’ she repeated, fighting to remain unbowed by his lack of reaction, fighting not to feel diminished by her own humble admission.

  The buzz of fierce sexual awareness had thickened the atmosphere.

  ‘It’s not mutual,’ Lucca delivered, studying her ripe full mouth with fixed attention.

  The rage locked inside him had expanded and was now threatening to explode. It had been a long time since he was that angry. Two years, in fact. Two years since his marriage had crashed and burned. Two years since she had sacrificed their relationship and their future child’s security with a resolute determination that had shattered his expectations of his once adoring little wife.

  ‘But you could think about it…’ Vivien persisted unevenly.

  ‘I don’t need to think about it!’ Lucca bit out in raw, harsh dismissal.

  Trembling and striving to conceal her anguish, Vivien dropped her head.

  ‘On the other hand,’ Lucca grated, ‘while our marriage was a mistake—’

  ‘Don’t say that,’ she urged, appalled by that brutal declaration given without hesitation as though it were established fact.

  ‘I still wouldn’t throw you out of bed…’

  Totally taken aback by that unanticipated completion and unable to immediately understand it, Vivien looked up, the tip of her tongue snaking out to wet her dry lower lip. ‘Sorry…?’

  With the expertise of a male to whom no move was a challenge around a woman, Lucca reached out and closed his arms round her slight figure to propel her forward and demonstrate his meaning with action. Vivien blinked up at him like a mesmerised owl. He bound her to him with strong hands and plundered her ripe mouth with a hot, hard sexual intensity that smashed down her every barrier.