‘With wall-to-wall engagements planned and Christmas just over the horizon?’ Lady Avery looked at her incredulously. ‘I was hardly going to dispense with your services and leave myself without a housekeeper at such a busy time, now, was I? That’s what’s known as cutting off your nose to spite your face.’ There was a pause. ‘You’ll find you’ve been paid up to the end of the month, which is more generous than you deserve. Philip and I have decided to fly to Barbados tomorrow for a last-minute holiday and we’re going out for the rest of the day. Just make sure you’re gone by the time we return, will you, Molly?’
‘But...but where will I go tonight?’
‘You really think I care? There’s a cheap B&B in the village. You can go there—if they’ll take you.’ Lady Avery’s mouth had curved into a cruel smile. ‘Just make sure you leave your car and house keys on the hall table before you go.’
And that was that. Molly could hardly believe it was happening. Except that she could. Her heart clenched as her old friend Fear re-entered her life without fanfare and suddenly she was back in that familiar situation of being in a fix. Only this time she couldn’t blame her brother, or the vagaries of fate which had made her mother so ill throughout her childhood. This time it was all down to her.
Biting her lip, she thought desperately about where she could go and what she could do, but no instant solution sprang to mind. She had no relatives. No local friends who could provide her with a roof over her head until she found herself another live-in job. Her mind buzzed frantically as some of Lady Avery’s words came flooding into her mind. How would Salvio react if she called him up and told him she’d been fired as a result of their crazy liaison? Would he do the decent thing and offer her a place to stay? Yet, despite recoiling at the thought of throwing herself on the mercy of a man who’d made it clear he wanted nothing but a one-night stand, it was growing increasingly clear that she might have to. Because the second bombshell was hovering overhead ready to explode, no matter how hard she tried to block it from her mind.
Telling herself it was stress which had made her period so late, she pushed the thought away as she remembered the card Salvio had given her—the one with a direct line to his assistant. What had he said? That his assistant knew plenty of people and could help her find a domestic role if ever she needed one. Molly licked her lips. She didn’t want to do it but what choice did she have? Where would she even start looking for a new job and a home at this time of year?
Quickly, she packed her clothes, trying not to give in to the tears which were pricking at the backs of her eyes. Carefully she wedged in the framed photo of her mother and the one of Robbie in his school uniform, the cute image giving no hint of the gimlet-eyed teenager he would become. And only when she was standing in her threadbare winter coat, with a hand-knitted scarf knotted tightly around her neck, did she dial the number on the card with a shaking finger.
Salvio’s assistant was called Gina and she didn’t just sound friendly—she sounded relieved when Molly gave her name and explained why she was ringing.
‘I can’t believe it,’ she said fervently. ‘You are the answer to my prayers, Molly Miller.’
‘Me?’ said Molly doubtfully.
‘Yes, you.’ Gina’s voice softened. ‘Are you free now? I mean, as of right now?’
‘I am,’ answered Molly cautiously. ‘Why?’
‘Because Salvio is having his annual pre-Christmas party in the Cotswolds tomorrow, just before he flies to Naples—and the housekeeper we’d hired has called to say her mother has fallen downstairs and broken her wrist, and she’s had to cancel. If you can step in and take over at the last minute I can make it very worth your while.’
Molly pushed out the words from between suddenly frozen lips. ‘That’s very bad news—about
the broken wrist, I mean, but I don’t think I—’
But the tycoon’s assistant was breezing on as if she hadn’t spoken.
‘Salvio must rate you very highly to have given you my number,’ Gina continued. ‘Why, it’s almost like fate. I won’t even have to bother telling him about the change. He doesn’t like to be bogged down with domestic trivia and he’s always so busy.’
Molly bit her lip so hard it hurt. This was fast becoming a nightmare, but what else could she do? How could she possibly turn down this opportunity just because she’d had sex with the man who would now unwittingly be employing her? She would just blend into the background and pray that the Neapolitan tycoon would be too busying partying to pay her any attention. And if the worst came to the worst and he discovered her identity—then she would shrug her shoulders and tell him it was no big deal.
Realistically, what could go wrong?
But being rumbled by Salvio wasn’t the worst thing which could happen, was it? Not by a long way. The fear which had been nagging at her for days came flooding into her mind and this time would not be silenced, because all her excuses about stress and anxiety were rapidly fading. Because she wasn’t sure if anxiety was capable of making your breasts ache and feel much bigger than usual. Or whether it could sap your normally voracious appetite.
She stared at her pale reflection in the hall mirror and saw the terror written in her own eyes. Because what if she was pregnant with Salvio De Gennaro’s baby?
CHAPTER FIVE
VISIBILITY WAS POOR—in fact, it was almost non-existent. Salvio’s fingers tightened around the soft leather of the steering wheel. Eyes narrowed, he stared straight ahead but all he could see was an all-enveloping whiteness swirling in front of the car windscreen. Every couple of seconds, the wipers dispelled the thick layer of snow which had settled, only to be rapidly replaced by another.
Frustrated, he glanced at the gold watch at his wrist, cursing the unpredictability of the weather. His journey from central London to the Cotswold countryside had been excruciatingly slow and in an ideal world he would have cancelled his annual party. But you couldn’t really cancel something this close to Christmas, no matter how preoccupied you were feeling. And he was feeling preoccupied, no doubt about it—even though the reason for that was disconcertingly bizarre. An impatient sigh escaped his lungs as he watched another flurry of snow. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about the curvy little housekeeper with the big grey eyes, with those luscious breasts, whose tips had fitted perfectly into his hungry mouth. Most of all, he couldn’t stop remembering her purity. Her innocence.
Which he had taken. Without thought. Without knowledge. But certainly not without feeling.
Memories of how it had felt to penetrate her beautiful tightness flooded his mind and Salvio swallowed as he touched his foot against the brake pedal. Would he have bedded her so willingly if he’d known she was a virgin? Of course he wouldn’t. His desire for the housekeeper had been completely out of character and he still couldn’t quite fathom it. He usually enjoyed women who were, if not quite his equal, then certainly closer on the social scale than Molly Miller would ever be.
He thought about Beatriz—the Brazilian beauty with whom he’d been enjoying a long-distance flirtation for the past few months. He had been attracted to her because she’d played hard to get and he’d convinced himself that a woman who wouldn’t tumble straight into his arms was exactly what he needed. But as her attitude towards him had thawed, so had his interest waned—and the memory of Molly had completely wiped her from his mind. And although Beatriz had made it clear she would be happy to share his bed after his Christmas party, the idea had left him cold, despite the fact that most men lusted after her statuesque beauty. He had been wondering about the most tactful way to convey his sudden change of heart, when she’d rung last night to say her plane had been delayed in Honolulu and she didn’t think she was going to make his party. And hadn’t he been struck by an overwhelming feeling of relief?
‘No importa. Don’t worry about it,’ he had responded quickly—probably too quickly.
A pause. ‘But I’m hoping we can see each other some other time, Salvio.’
‘I’m hoping so too, but I’m flying out to Naples for Christmas and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.’ His response had been smooth and seasoned. And distinctly dismissive. ‘I’ll call you.’