Innocent Wife, Baby of Shame Read online

  ‘But if we resume living together it will delay our divorce,’ she said with a worried frown. ‘We’ve been separated for two months. If we live together it will mean we’ll have to start from scratch.’

  ‘I realise that, but it cannot be avoided,’ he said. ‘The boys must be put first over our desire for a divorce.’ His eyes probed hers for another lengthy moment. ‘Or are you in a particular hurry to process it in order to marry someone else?’

  Keira lowered her gaze to her hands in her lap, surprised to see a tiny smear of blood where one of her rough-edged nails had broken the skin. She hadn’t felt a thing; the pain she was currently feeling was from much deeper inside. ‘No,’ she said. ‘There’s no one else.’

  ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘That means we can get going on this without delay.’

  Keira sat in silence, still twisting her hands and worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

  ‘Do not worry about your parents,’ he said after a little pause.

  She looked up at him and frowned. ‘You’ve already discussed this with them?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘But I am well aware of your strained relationship with them.’

  Keira couldn’t help the rush of feeling that surged through her at his softened tone. He had always understood her difficulties relating to her strait-laced and conservative parents, and had often protected her from their criticism in the past. That had been one of the things she had missed most about him. He had been her defender, her rock and fortress. She had felt so alone without him in her life—so achingly and desperately alone.

  ‘Of course, while we are involved in this charade, it goes without saying that any involvement with other parties must immediately cease,’ he said.

  Keira shifted her gaze again. ‘I’m not involved with anyone.’

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I am between relationships as well so the timing is perfect.’

  Keira had seen a photograph in the press of his new lover. Gisela Hunter was the total opposite of her—a tall platinum blonde-haired beauty, with rail-thin arms and legs and the sort of smile the cost of which must have put a Ferrari in some top-notch orthodontist’s garage.

  She fought down her jealousy and reminded herself that she had no one but herself to blame. She had jumped to conclusions and, in her normal impulsive way, had acted on a suspicion that in the end had proved to be incorrect.

  ‘I understand that you are currently working part-time at a café,’ he said.

  She brought her eyes back to his. ‘Yes. It helps to pay my rent and for my painting materials.’

  ‘You will give the café proprietor your notice immediately,’ he said. ‘I will pay you a wage for the duration of our mock reconciliation.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that…’

  ‘No, but I will do it all the same. I cannot have people wondering why you are slaving over a coffee machine when your husband is a multi-millionaire.’

  She looked down at her hands again, knowing it would be pointless refusing. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and, besides, she needed money; her rent was already two weeks in arrears. ‘All right…’ she said, ‘if you insist.’

  She heard the creak of leather as he leaned forward in his chair and she looked up to meet his eyes, her stomach giving a little shuffling movement at the dark intensity she could see reflected there.

  ‘This is not about us, Keira,’ he said. ‘It is about two young boys on the threshold of adulthood who are jeopardising their futures with unnecessary bitterness.’

  Her tongue moved over the dryness of her lips again. ‘I understand…’

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Then you will also understand the urgency of making an announcement to the press.’ He picked up his mobile from his desk and, scrolling through, pressed the name that came up on the dial.

  She listened as he informed the journalist at the other end that, as of tonight, Keira and Patrizio Trelini had cancelled their acrimonious divorce proceedings and were resuming their relationship.

  Indefinitely…

  CHAPTER TWO

  PATRIZIO put the phone back down and faced her. ‘How soon can you move back into my place?’

  Her stomach tilted again. ‘Um…’

  ‘Would it help if I sent Marietta over to pack your things?’

  She nodded, not trusting her voice to come out without a break in it. He wasn’t just doing this for his nephew; he was doing it for Jamie as well. Somehow she found that particularly touching.

  ‘I will need to give Marietta the keys to your flat,’ he said, passing her a piece of paper and a pen. ‘Jot down what you think you will need for the next six weeks and she and Salvatore will sort it out this evening.’

  Keira gripped the pen and tried to think about what she would need in order to play the role of reconciled wife but it was difficult to concentrate with him sitting so close. The air circulating between them held a faint trace of his lemon-scented aftershave, which made her feel as if he were touching her in a vicarious way. She was breathing him in, breath by ragged breath, and it disturbed her deeply.

  ‘I think we should have dinner together tonight,’ he said once she’d passed him the list and her keys. ‘It will give credence to our announcement to the press.’

  Keira looked down at her paint-splattered clothes. ‘I need to get changed…’

  ‘There are still some of your clothes at my house.’

  Her eyes came up to meet his. ‘You mean you haven’t thrown them all out?’

  He gave her one of his unreadable looks. ‘Marietta insisted they were to stay in the wardrobe until the divorce was finalised. I think she has always hoped you would come back.’

  She looked down at her hands again. ‘Did you tell her you wouldn’t have me back?’ she asked.

  It seemed a long time before he answered. Keira could hear the clock on the wall behind her counting out the seconds; they seemed to be out of time with her thumping heart.

  ‘I told her what we had was well and truly over,’ he said. ‘I did not discuss the details with her or with anyone, although she could hardly have avoided hearing about it in the press. The journalists are still having a field day with it, no doubt because of your father’s bid for the Senate.’

  Keira knew she should be feeling grateful that he hadn’t revealed the sordid details of her betrayal with all and sundry. He had had every right to do so—what she had done had been unforgivable. She could only assume that he had remained silent out of a sense of male pride. He would deem it below him to reveal the particulars of his private life, although she couldn’t help wondering why he had all those magazines in the waiting room. Perhaps, like the wedding photo on his desk, he wanted to remind himself of how he had been let down by someone he had once trusted and loved.

  He passed the phone to her. ‘I think you should call your brother at school,’ he said. ‘It would be better for him to hear it from you rather than read it in the papers tomorrow.’

  Keira stared at the phone in her hands. Could she lie convincingly to her younger brother? Although eight years separated them, she and Jamie had always been exceptionally close.

  She pressed the numbers and waited for him to pick up his mobile.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Jamie, it’s me, Keira.’

  ‘Hi, Keira, how are you doing? How are the paintings going for the exhibition?’

  ‘Not so bad,’ she said, trying to lift her tone. ‘How are you?’

  There was a tiny pause.

  ‘OK, I guess…’

  ‘Jamie,’ she began, ‘I have something to tell you.’

  ‘You’re not going to marry Garth Merrick, are you?’ he asked, the edge of panic unmistakable in his tone.

  Keira had to turn away from the quirked-brow look Patrizio sent her as her brother’s voice carried across the room. ‘No, of course not. We’re just…friends.’

  ‘What is it, then?’

  She took a calming breath. ‘Patrizio and I have decided to get back togeth
er,’ she said, mentally crossing her fingers that he would buy it.

  ‘The divorce is off?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘The divorce is off.’

  ‘Wow, Keira, that’s great!’ he said excitedly. ‘What brought this about?’

  ‘I guess we both realised we were making a big mistake,’ she said, adlibbing as she went along. ‘We both still love each other, so a divorce is pointless.’

  ‘I’m so glad, Keira,’ he said. ‘You haven’t been happy since…well, since it all fell apart. What do Mum and Dad think? Have you told them yet?’

  ‘Not yet, but I’ll call them next.’

  There was another little silence.

  ‘Does Bruno Di Venuto know?’ Jamie asked.

  Keira met Patrizio’s eyes across the desk. ‘No,’ she said. ‘But Patrizio is about to ring him.’

  ‘I saw him in the common room a few minutes ago,’ Jamie said. ‘He was his usual obnoxious self.’

  ‘Has it been very difficult for you, Jamie?’ she asked. ‘You haven’t mentioned a thing in any of the calls we’ve had lately.’

  ‘I can handle him, Keira,’ Jamie said. ‘He’s got a chip on his shoulder about you and his uncle divorcing. He thinks it’s all your fault but I told him you only did what you did because you thought Patrizio was having an affair. You weren’t to know you were being set up. Anyone could have made the same mistake.’

  Keira inwardly cringed. ‘I’m sorry you’ve had to suffer because of me,’ she said. ‘I wish I could have avoided dragging you into my problems.’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ he responded. ‘You always stuck up for me when Mum and Dad got angry about some stupid little issue. But I must say I’m glad to hear your news. I really want to do well in the finals and the way Bruno has been carrying on was making life pretty difficult. He’s got some influential mates. My grades have been falling but I should be able to pick them up if he lays off a bit.’

  Keira met Patrizio’s dark unblinking gaze across the desk. ‘Patrizio assures me Bruno will,’ she said. ‘Take care of yourself, Jamie. I love you.’

  ‘Don’t go all soppy on me now,’ he said gruffly. ‘I am really pleased you and Patrizio are having another go at it. I like him, Keira. I always did. He’s one really cool dude.’

  Keira handed the phone back to Patrizio a short time later. ‘Apparently, in spite of your nephew’s behaviour, my brother still thinks you’re one really cool dude.’

  He gave her an indifferent look. ‘So I heard.’

  She listened while he made a call to his nephew and, even though it was issued in staccato Italian, she more or less got the drift. Patrizio’s brows snapped together as he ranted and railed, the gestures of his hand indicating that he was extremely angry.

  He put the phone down on the desk a few minutes later with a brooding frown. ‘That boy needs a firm hand. I should have seen this coming. I could have stopped it getting to this.’

  ‘It’s all right, Patrizio,’ she said. ‘Jamie is coping with things.’

  He got to his feet and stood with his back to her, looking out over the city below. ‘I cannot be the father figure Bruno needs,’ he said, clenching and unclenching his fists by his sides. ‘I have tried to take Stefano’s place but it is not good enough. No one can replace his father. Bruno is angry and resentful and is no doubt looking for a target.’

  ‘You have done your best,’ she said softly. ‘It’s been hard for everyone, Gina especially.’

  He turned around to look down at her. ‘We should get going,’ he said after a stiff little silence. He scooped up his keys from the desk and added, ‘The sooner we get this over with the better.’

  Keira followed him out of the office with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Spending the evening with him was going to be bad enough, but sharing his house as his wife again was going to take all the courage she possessed and more.

  Patrizio’s house was a modern mansion set in a private garden in the exclusive suburb of South Yarra. Large windows made the most of the view over the city on one side and the lap pool and beautifully manicured formal garden on the other.

  Italian marble lined the impressive foyer, leading to a sweeping staircase which led to the upper floor where each of the beautifully decorated bedrooms had an en suite bathroom attached. Soft-as-air taupe carpet covered the living and entertainment areas, the luxurious leather sofas just begging to be sat upon.

  Keira forced her gaze away from them, not wanting to recall the many times she had felt and tasted his passion while lying entangled with him there.

  ‘I will leave you to get changed,’ Patrizio said as he put his briefcase down. ‘I have a couple of emails to send. Make yourself at home.’

  This used to be my home, Keira thought sadly as she took the stairs to the upper floor. Every room contained a memory of her time with Patrizio. It seemed strange to be here again, walking up the stairs as if she had never left.

  She paused outside the master bedroom, taking a little shaky breath as her hand pushed open the door.

  She forced her eyes away from the huge bed and went straight to the large walk-in wardrobe where on one side Patrizio’s things were hanging in neat ordered rows.

  Her gaze swung to the other side and a little wave of nostalgia passed over her as her hands went to the things she had left behind. The housekeeper, Marietta, had obviously tidied everything up. Admittedly Keira had left in a hurry after that final horrendous scene, but then she had never been all that good at keeping things organised.

  Her hand reached for one of the dresses Patrizio had bought her when they had gone to Paris for a week during the first few months of their marriage. She pressed her face against it, her eyes closing as she felt the soft brush of chiffon against her cheek, the faint hint of his aftershave clinging to the fabric making her feel an unbearable aching emptiness.

  She heard a sound behind her and came face to face with Marietta, who was carrying a bundle of Patrizio’s neatly ironed casual clothes.

  ‘Signora Trelini,’ she said with a smile. ‘It is good to see you again. I am so glad you are returning to Signor Trelini. He has not been happy since you left.’

  ‘Hello, Marietta,’ Keira said shyly, still clutching the dress to her chest. ‘I haven’t been happy since I left either.’

  The housekeeper beamed. ‘I knew it would all work out in the end,’ she said. ‘You and Signor Trelini are…how you say…soul mates, sì?’

  ‘Sì,’ Keira agreed, hoping she sounded convincing.

  Marietta put the clothes she was carrying on the shelves before turning back to her. ‘I will leave you to get dressed,’ she said. ‘Your husband told me you are going out to dinner to celebrate your reconciliation.’

  ‘Er…yes…we are,’ Keira said.

  ‘I have left towels in the en suite for you,’ Marietta informed her. ‘I thought you might like to freshen up.’

  ‘Thank you, Marietta,’ Keira said, grimacing as she looked down at her jeans. ‘A shower would be lovely.’

  The stinging spray did much to wash away the stickiness of the day, the creamy shampoo and conditioner she used on her hair leaving it bouncing with springy curls.

  She looked at her reflection and bit her lip. There were shadows beneath her violet-blue eyes and her face looked even paler than it usually was. She leaned closer and frowned when she saw the dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Her small supply of make-up was at her poky little flat in St Kilda; all she had was a tub of lip-gloss in her purse.

  She smoothed down the black dress and, slipping her feet into the high-heeled sandals she’d chosen, she went back downstairs.

  Patrizio was waiting for her in the large open-plan lounge, a small measure of spirits in his hand. ‘Would you care for a drink before we leave?’ he asked.

  Keira wondered what he would say if she told him she no longer touched alcohol. She hadn’t dared after what had happened with Garth. ‘No, thank you,’ she said. ‘I had some water upstairs.’r />
  His eyes ran over her. ‘You look very beautiful, cara,’ he said.

  She shifted nervously. ‘Thank you…’

  He closed the distance between them and lifted her chin, his eyes burning into hers. ‘Marietta and Salvatore have not yet left,’ he said in a low deep undertone. ‘We are in love again, no?’

  ‘No…I mean yes…’ Keira answered, her heart beginning to thump as his thumb moved over her bottom lip, back and forth as if rediscovering the cushioned contours.

  He pressed his mouth to hers for a nanosecond before lifting his head, his tongue sweeping over his lips where she could see a faint imprint of her lip-gloss shining.

  ‘Mmm,’ he said, running his tongue over his lips. ‘You taste of strawberries, or is it cherries?’

  Keira felt her belly tremble with desire as he bent his head once more. Her lashes came down over her eyes as his mouth covered hers, the barely there touch of his lips sending her senses into a frenzy. She felt the slight rasp of his tongue as it pushed against the seam of her mouth, her stomach giving a swift hard kick of excitement as the pressure subtly increased. Her lips parted to accommodate him, the smooth gliding entry of his tongue making every hair on her head stand to attention as it flicked against hers.

  That first erotic thrust sent all thought of control out of her head. Her hands clung to him unashamedly, her fingers curling into the front of his shirt, her mouth locked on his, her tongue dancing with his in a sexy tango that mimicked the most intimate union of all.

  She could feel the heavy pulse of desire beating deep and low in her body, every nerve tightening in tingling awareness as his mouth worked its magic on hers. She felt the hard ridge of his erection swelling against her belly, the heady reminder of all they had shared in the past.

  Keira vaguely registered the sound of the front door closing and her eyes sprang open when Patrizio ended the kiss with an abruptness she found totally disorienting.

  ‘Marietta and Salvatore have gone,’ he said, stepping back from her. ‘I was expecting one or both of them to come in and say good evening. The kiss was for their benefit, not mine.’