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    The Italian's Wife


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      The Italian's Wife

      Lynne Graham

      Synopsis:

      Abandoned by her boyfriend and family after the birth of her son, Holly

      Sansom collapses in the street. Rio Lombardi, M.D. of Lombardi

      Industries, comes to her rescue.

      Rio insists that Holly stay at his luxurious home, and proceeds to

      lavish her and her baby with all that money can buy. But Rio's emotions

      are caught off guard by Holly's natural charm and indifference to his

      wealth. In fact, Holly would make a perfect wife....

      3

      We're delighted to announce that is taking place in Harlequin Presents.

      This month, in THE ITALIAN'S WIFE by Lynne Graham:

      You are invited to the wedding of Rio Lombardi and Holly Sansom.

      When Holly, a homeless young woman, collapses in front of Rio Lombardi's

      limousine,

      he feels compelled to take her and her baby son home with him. Holly

      can't believe it

      when Rio lavishes her with food, clothes...and a wedding ring....

      Coming in July: A Mediterranean Marriage

      The Italian's Bride by Diana Hamilton

      4

      If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this

      book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to

      the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any

      payment for this "stripped book."

      ISBN 0-373-12235-7

      THE ITALIAN'S WIFE

      First North American Publication 2002.

      Copyright ©2001 by Lynne Graham.

      All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or

      utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any

      electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented,

      including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information

      storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission

      of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road,

      Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

      All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of

      the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same

      name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual

      known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

      This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books U.S.A.

      ®and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ®are

      registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the

      Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

      Visit us at www.eHartequin.com Printed in U.S.A.

      5

      When Rio Lombardi finally heard the apartment door open, his handsome

      mouth quirked and he sprang upright. Christabel was in for a surprise.

      A breathless series of giggles and an urgent whisper which he didn't

      catch sounded from the hall, making him frown. Evidently, his fiancée

      had a friend in tow. That was the trouble with surprises, Rio

      acknowledged in exasperation: their very nature made them unreliable. He

      should've warned her that he might make it back to London a day early.

      Surrendering his fantasy of sweeping Christabel straight off to bed for

      a passionate reunion, Rio crossed the spacious lounge to announce his

      presence and make polite social chitchat instead.

      But the hall was already empty. A pair of kitten-heeled turquoise shoes

      and a pair of diamante-studded black satin mules lay abandoned on the

      carpet. Frowning a little at the suspicion that his fiancée might not be

      sober again, and now also wondering if he was about to break in on some

      cosy girly get-together, Rio strolled down the corridor to the bedroom.

      He'd intended to knock on the door but it was wide open and the sight

      which met his eyes was so shocking, so utterly unbelievable to him, that

      his lean hand froze in mid-air.

      Halfway out of her dress, Christabel was kissing... another woman, also

      half out of her dress. Paralysed to the threshold, Rio stared, his

      dark-as-midnight eyes totally refusing to accept what he was seeing.

      They were drunk, fooling about, he started to tell himself; maybe they

      6

      had realised he was in the apartment and were playing some stupid

      tasteless joke on him, But they were locked together, breast to breast,

      hip to hip, Christabel's glossy blonde hair mingling with the brunette's

      darker tresses as they touched each other with the unmistakable

      eagerness of lovers. He was so revolted by that acknowledgement that for

      an instant he felt physically ill. Christabel, his woman, his lover, his

      bride-to-be...

      Christabel drew back with a husky, sexy laugh, her fabulous face flushed

      with excitement, and only then did the two women realise that they had

      an audience poised in the doorway. Rio recognised the brunette as one of

      Christabel's friends: Tammy something or other, another fashion model,

      also another man's wife.

      For a split-second nobody moved or spoke. Aghast, Christabel and Tammy

      gaped at him, and then the brunette loosed a strangled moan of horror

      and fled into the connecting bathroom, noisily slamming and locking the

      door behind her.

      'H-heavens...what a fright you gave me...' Christabel faltered,

      frantically yanking up her dress to cover her bare breasts, her face now

      pale and stiff as marble, her wonderful green eyes glittering with

      fearful anxiety. 'Please...you mustn't misunderstand what you just saw,

      Rio-'

      'Misunderstand?' Rio could never recall it taking more effort to speak

      one word levelly. Initial shock and disbelief were giving way to rage

      and an unfamiliar sense of appalled bewilderment that only stoked the

      rage higher.

      'We were just mucking around. Don't be old-fashioned about this...'

      Christabel urged in the charged silence as she moved closer and made a

      little pleading movement with her manicured hands.

      Rio could not take his eyes off her. Christabel Kent, the world-famous

      supermodel and media darling who wore his

      engagement ring, her Nordic fairness and endless legs a legend in the

      fashion and beauty market. Perfect face, perfect body.

      'OK...I'll come clean,' Christabel continued feverishly. 'So I was

      missing you dreadfully and I like a change occasionally-'

      'A change? You make it sound like it's nothing-'

      'It isn't...it's just sex!' his fiancée interrupted, reaching for the

      lean, powerful hands coiled into fierce fists of self-restraint by his

      sides. 'Nothing for you to worry about or even think about, because if

      you don't like it I swear it won't ever happen again!'

      Rio backed out of her reach. In his mind's eye he could still only see

      one image: Christabel wrapped half-naked and excited round another

      woman. Just sex? He felt betrayed. He felt incredulous. He felt

      something he wasn't used to feeling: foolish,

      'All right...you're shocked and furious and I understand and I'm really


      sorry!' Christabel was panicking at his lack of response. 'I'll make it

      up to you-'

      'What with? An offer to join the two of you?' Rio derided between

      clenched white teeth.

      Christabel looked up at him, green eyes gleaming with sudden relief

      lightened by a shard of seductive amusement. 'Would you like that, darling?'

      Violence coursed through Rio in a molten wave and a shudder of angry

      revulsion passed through him. If she hadn't been a woman he would have

      knocked her through the wall and if that was an old-fashioned reaction,

      tough! Yet her stupidity in assuming that his contemptuous question

      might have been a serious hint that all would be forgiven if he got a

      piece of the same action freed him from that first binding shock.

      'I'll give you time to move out of here,' Rio breathed

      8

      with raw clarity. 'I'll deal with cancelling the wedding arrangements-'

      'You can't be serious!' Christabel gasped in stricken horror. 'We're

      perfect together!'

      Rio swung on his heel and strode back down the corridor, Christabel

      pursuing him every step of the way, pleading with him to calm down and

      think again. In the hall, she shot between him and the front door to

      prevent his departure.

      'If you tell people about this, my career will be ruined!'

      Christabel's career had been built on her clean, wholesome image. No

      risque" lingerie assignments, no media coverage of Christabel whooping

      it up like a ladette in the clubs, no bad-ass boyfriends. Christabel

      liked to pose for off-the-record interviews with fluffy animals and talk

      about how mad she was about children, not to mention how crazy she was

      about the man she was to marry and how much she was looking forward to

      giving up work to be a full-time wife and mother...

      Rio reached out and lifted her bodily out of his path. 'Dio mio...I

      won't be talking-'

      That fear overcome, Christabel cried in desperation. 'Then why can't you

      forgive me? Tammy means nothing to me. It's not like she was another man

      or I'm in love with her. I love you, Rio-'

      She loved him? Had she ever loved him? Or had she loved his enormous

      wealth most of all? His sculpted mouth tightening, he recalled that

      Christabel had expensive tastes that far outran even her own healthy

      earning power. Within a week of his marriage proposal she had confessed

      to a string of outstanding bills and had told him how hopeless she was

      with money. Impressed by her honesty, he had felt hugely protective

      towards her and had cleared her debts without even thinking about what

      he was doing.

      Yanking himself free of her clinging hands in growing disgust at what

      her every reckless word revealed about her character, Rio left the

      apartment and made it into the lift. He raised one of his hands and

      watched it shake in disbelieving outrage. Balling his fingers back into

      an aggressive fist, he punched the steel wall with the full force of the

      rage and the pain splintering through him, the savage pain he had been

      struggling to deny. He had loved her, he had really loved her and wanted

      to marry her.

      Santo cielo, he might have given his children a mother who thought

      three-in-a-bed sex was a wonderful thrill! A woman who had contrived to

      hide her true nature from him so successfully that the sheer shock value

      of what he had witnessed and heard would linger with him for a very long

      time.

      Just sex? Hadn't he been enough for her? Obviously not. As his

      bodyguards reared up from their seats in the ground-floor reception

      area, their surprise at his unexpected reappearance patent, Rio was bund

      to them, his darkly handsome features rigid and ashen pale. Outside, he

      drank in deep of the frosty night air before crossing the street to his

      limo. Had Christabel been lying back and thinking about other women in

      his bed? Had even her pleasure been faked? Had the eager desire she had

      shown for his lovemaking all been part of one giant con to ensnare a

      very rich husband? How could he have known so little about a woman he

      had been with for almost two years?

      'Your hand's bleeding, boss. Are you OK?'

      Rio angled a cursory glance down at his bruised and bleeding knuckles

      before meeting the troubled dark eyes of Ezio. The stockily built older

      man had been on his security team since Rio was a student and knew him

      too well.

      'Si...' But right at that moment Rio did not know when he was ever going

      to feel normal again. Like Saverio Lombardi, billionaire head of one of

      the proudest, oldest

      10

      families in Italy and the driving force behind Lombardi Industries, one

      of the biggest, most successful companies in the world. He felt

      humiliated, sick and less than a man for the first time in twenty-nine

      years of existence.

      How was he to explain this fiasco in acceptable terms to his vulnerable

      mother? Alice Lombardi was literally counting the days to her son's

      wedding and was pitifully eager to cradle her first grandchild in her

      arms. She was a sick woman, crippled by arthritis, further weakened by a

      series of debilitating illnesses. Every week she survived was a literal

      gift from God and her poor health permitted her precious few pleasures

      in life. Now there would be no wedding, no prospect of a baby to fill

      the empty nursery, no bright and chatty daughter-in-law to occasionally

      enliven her dull, pain-filled days...

      He had never openly acknowledged the reality before but he needed a wife.

      'Tammy means nothing to me...it's not like she was another man.' The

      insidious and seductive echo of Christabel's husky voice made Rio's

      hands clench into ferocious fists. No, he could not, would not forgive

      her, not for the sake of his own powerful libido, not even for the sake

      of the mother he adored. Christabel, the woman he had loved beyond

      belief, was a total sham. What did that say about his judgement? He had

      believed he knew his fiancée through and through, yet he had not even

      penetrated the surface of that calculating immoral mind of hers. He

      could not have chosen worse had he decided to marry a total stranger. He

      might as well stop and ask the first woman he met to be his bride...

      With a harsh and bitter laugh at that insane idea, Rio Lombardi poured

      himself a large brandy from the bar in the back of the limo.

      Holly was cold, hungry and scared.

      It was barely one in the morning and the whole of the rest of the night

      hours still stretched ahead of her. For how long had she been walking?

      Her back and her legs ached and her vision was blurring with exhaustion

      but where could she possibly stop for the night that she would be safe?

      She had sat around in a train station for most of the day, moving seats

      every so often, striving not to attract the attention of anyone

      official, until the crude heckling of two youths had forced her to take

      refuge in the cloakroom. While she had been trying to freshen up there,

      her jacket, which had had her purse in the inside pocket, had been

      stolen. Her own fault for taking her jacket off, leaving it carelessly

      d
    raped over Timmie's buggy and turning her attention away for a minute.

      No point approaching a policeman, not when awkward questions would be

      asked and an address requested. Her purse, which had had her last few

      pounds in it, was gone and that was that. Like so much else that had

      happened to Holly since her arrival in London so full of naive hopes

      seven months earlier, it was just one more kick when she was down, one

      more piece of bad luck in a run of bad luck that seemed endless.

      As she paused to check that her eight-month-old son was still wrapped up

      snug against the chilly air, she shivered violently and fingered the two

      battered carrier bags that now contained all that she possessed in the

      world. She had to be the ultimate loser and failure, she decided

      wretchedly. Useless at everything, not even able to put the shabbiest

      roof over Timmie's head and look after him as he deserved. Here she was

      out walking the streets, homeless and penniless, next door to being a

      beggar...

      Yet just twenty-four hours earlier she really had tried so hard to pick

      up her sagging courage and get a grip on her

      12

      problems. She had gone to the Social Security office to report that her

      landlord had tried to break into her room twice during the night and

      that she was terrified of him.

      'We've never had any complaints about him before,' the woman behind the

     


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