the type of woman he would go for: someone brash and bold, someone who would be confident sexually. His lovers wouldn’t agonise over their breasts or thighs, they wouldn’t worry about bikini waxes and whether they weren’t responsive enough in his arms. He would make them respond just by looking at them, just like he did to her.
‘Grrrhhh,’ Bella said as she threw off the covers yet again.
She was out in the garden waiting for Fergus to come back in when she saw the twin beams of Edoardo’s car headlights move across the fields of the estate as he came up the long driveway. ‘Fergus?’ she called out softly. ‘Come on. Hurry up. I’m freezing to death out here.’
There was still no sign of the dog when Edoardo’s car purred its way back to the garage. Bella listened as his footsteps crunched over the gravel of the driveway. She slunk against the shadows of the manor, holding the edges of her dressing gown tighter around her body. She didn’t want him to think she had been losing sleep over his nocturnal activities. She didn’t want him to think she had been waiting up for him to return, even though—subconsciously, at least—she had.
It was unnaturally, eerily quiet.
The night sounds that had seemed as loud as an orchestra rehearsing just moments ago had stilled as if silenced by a conductor’s baton.
Bella edged her way along the manor with her back against the icy-cold, hard stone. Her skin was pebbled with goose bumps and her heart hammered like a piston.
She inched her way closer to the window of the morning room. She took a breath and started to climb the trellis, where the gnarled and twisted skeleton of some clematis was situated, when a pair of strong arms suddenly tackled her from behind. ‘Oomph!’ she gasped as she fell backwards against a strong male body.
‘Bella?’ Edoardo swung her around and gaped at her in shock. ‘What in God’s name are you doing?’
She put up her hand in a little fingertip wave and gave him a sheepish smile. ‘Hi …’
His expression went from shock to furious. ‘What the hell are you playing at?’ he asked. ‘I could have hurt you. I thought you were a burglar.’
Bella straightened her dressing gown, which had slipped off one shoulder in the tussle. Her body was still tingling from where it had pressed against his. Her heart was still jumping and her pulse as crazy as an over-wound clock. ‘Do you normally wrestle burglars to the ground?’ she asked with a wry look.
He scraped a hand through his hair. ‘Not usually.’ He let his hand drop back by his side. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I will be when I get my heart to get back where it belongs,’ she said with an attempt at humour. ‘You scared the living daylights out of me. I didn’t hear you make a sound. I thought you’d gone the other way around the house.’
‘What on earth were you doing?’ he asked, still frowning darkly.
‘I was taking Fergus out for a comfort stop.’
‘Then why hide in the shadows like an intruder?’ he asked.
She gave a little shrug, suddenly feeling foolish and gauche. ‘I didn’t want you to see me …’
‘Why not?’
She waved a hand over her night attire. ‘I’m not … um, dressed.’
‘I’ve seen you in a lot less,’ he said.
Bella was glad of the muted moonlight because her face felt suddenly hot. ‘So, how was your date?’ she asked.
A shutter came down over his face. ‘Where’s Fergus?’ he asked.
‘Good question,’ she said as she made her way back to the kitchen door. ‘I was trying to find him when you came home. He’s not very obedient, is he?’
‘He’s deaf and practically blind,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t have left him on his own. He gets disoriented at night.’
‘You were the one who left him while you went off sowing your wild oats,’ she tossed back. ‘You find him. I’m going back to bed.’
It was mid-morning when Bella came downstairs the next day. She supposed Edoardo had been up since dawn, or maybe he hadn’t been to bed at all—or at least not his own bed, she thought with a niggle of pique.
She was halfway through a cup of tea and a muffin when she heard a car come up the driveway. She went outside and watched as a slim, elegant woman of about thirty got out from behind the wheel.
‘Hello,’ the woman said with a friendly smile. ‘You must be Bella. I’m Rebecca Gladstone. I moved into the area a few months ago.’
‘Um … hi,’ Bella said.
‘Is Edoardo about?’ Rebecca asked. ‘I was passing and thought I should check on Fergus.’
‘Fergus?’
Rebecca smiled. ‘I’m the new vet.’
‘Oh …’ Bella pasted a stiff smile on her face. Was this Edoardo’s latest lover? Beautiful, classy, educated, good with animals and probably children as well. She felt a tight pinching feeling close to her heart. Somehow she hadn’t been expecting him to go for someone so … so likeable. Did this mean he would get married and fill Haverton Manor with a brood of kids and pets? He had stolen her house and now he had stolen her dream as well. It should be her children and her pets filling up the place, not his. ‘Come this way,’ she said. ‘Fergus is asleep in the kitchen.’
Bella watched as Rebecca greeted the dog. Fergus, the old fool, practically gushed. His tail wagged like a metronome on steroids and he even gave a puppy-like wriggle of his hindquarters. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. ‘He seems to really know you well,’ Bella said.
‘Yes, we’re old friends, aren’t we, Fergus?’ Rebecca said, ruffling his ears.
Bella wanted to hate her but she couldn’t quite do it. She decided to hate Edoardo a little bit more for choosing someone so damn perfect. Why couldn’t he have a shallow, self-serving mistress she could really have a good bitch about?
After a minute or two, Rebecca stood up from examining the elderly dog. ‘I’ll leave some vitamins in case he’s not eating properly,’ she said, taking out a little bottle and placing it on the table. ‘Irish wolfhounds don’t live much longer than eight or so years. He’s doing well for his age, but it’s best to be on the safe side.’
Bella tried on another smile. ‘Thanks.’
‘So, how long are you staying for?’ Rebecca asked.
‘Just a few days,’ Bella said. ‘I haven’t been home much just lately … Actually, not since my father’s funeral.’ Not since he gave away my home to my worst enemy, she added silently.
‘I’m sure Edoardo will be glad of the company,’ Rebecca said as she clipped shut her bag. ‘He works far too hard, but I guess I don’t have to tell you that.’
‘I’m not sure Edoardo enjoys my company too much,’ Bella said, pursing her mouth.
Rebecca looked at her quizzically. ‘Oh? Why do you say that?’
Bella wished she hadn’t been so transparent but it was a bit late to retract what she’d said. In with a penny, in with a pound, she thought. Anyway, why should she sugar-coat her relationship with Edoardo? He had probably derided her to Rebecca every chance he could. ‘He thinks I’m a spoilt brat who hasn’t grown up,’ she said.
Rebecca studied her for a moment. ‘You’ve known him a long time, then?’
‘Since I was seven years old.’
‘So you’re like brother and sister?’
‘Um … not quite,’ Bella said, blushing in spite of every effort not to. She paused