Harlequin Romance® presents a brand-new trilogy from bestselling author

LUCY GORDON

The Counts of Calvani

These proud Italian aristocrats are about to propose!

The Calvani family is a prosperous, aristocratic Italian family headed by Count Francesco Calvani.

He has three nephews:

Guido—charming, easygoing and wealthy in his own right, Guido is based in Venice. He’s heir to the Calvani title, but he doesn’t want it….

Marco—aristocratic, sophisticated and very good-looking, Marco is every woman’s dream, managing the family’s banking and investments in Rome….

Leo—proud, rugged and athletic, Leo is a reluctant tycoon, running the family’s prosperous farms in Tuscany.

The pressure is mounting on all three Calvani cousins to marry and produce the next heirs in the Calvani dynasty. Each will find a wife—but will it be out of love or duty…?

Find out in this emotional, exciting and dramatic trilogy:

The Venetian Playboy’s Bride (#3744)

The Italian Millionaire’s Marriage (#3751)

The Tuscan Tycoon’s Wife (#3760)

Dear Reader,

I’ve saved my favourite Calvani until last. The Tuscan Tycoon’s Wife is the story of Leo, Guido’s half brother and Marco’s cousin. He is like nobody else in the family, a countryman who would hate to live anywhere but close to the earth, far away from the fashionable cities, in the beautiful Tuscan hills.

Where the others are sophisticated, he is uncomplicated; a gentle giant with a huge warm heart that loves but does not judge. Many women would like him as a brother. But Selena isn’t “many women.” She’s the one woman Leo can’t forget, a hard-living rodeo rider who can challenge him on any level. Tough on the surface, lonely inside, she touches his heart because he can see how much she needs him—even if she can’t see it herself.

She thinks he’s as poor as she is—and that’s fine by her. It’s when she finds that he’s not only rich but aristocratic that the trouble starts…. The only person who understands her feelings is Liza, Count Calvani’s longtime love and eventual countess. It’s Liza’s intervention that reconciles the lovers, and brings the whole family together for the happy ending that unites them all.

Enjoy!

The Tuscan Tycoon’s Wife
Lucy Gordon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to Janet Stover, 2001 World Champion Barrel Racer and Olympic medalist, who told me all about barrel racing, and rodeos.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

‘SELENA, you need either a miracle or a millionaire.’

Ben eased himself out from under the battered vehicle, monkey wrench in hand. He was lean, elderly, and had spent thirty years as a garage mechanic. Now those thirty years were telling him that Selena Gates wanted him to revive a corpse.

‘This thing’s had it,’ he said gloomily surveying the van, which was actually a Mini Motor Home, with the accent on Mini.

‘But you can make it go again?’ Selena begged. ‘I know you can, Ben. You’re such a genius.’

‘You stop that,’ he said with an unconvincing attempt at severity. ‘It doesn’t work on me.’

‘Always has so far,’ she said, with perfect truth. ‘You can make it go, can’t you, Ben?’

‘For a bit.’

‘As far as Stephenville?’

‘Three hundred miles? You don’t want much! All right, it’ll probably just about make it. But what then?’

‘Then I’ll win some money in the rodeo.’

‘Riding that washed up brute?’

‘Elliot is not washed up,’ she flared. ‘He’s in his prime.’

Ben grunted. ‘Been in his prime a few years, if you ask me.’

Any mention of her beloved Elliot touched a nerve, and Selena was about to defend him fiercely when she remembered that Ben, good friend that he was, was fixing her van on the cheap, and calmed down.

‘Elliot and I will win something,’ she said stubbornly.

‘Enough for a new van?’

‘Enough to get this one fixed as good as new.’

‘Selena, there ain’t enough money in the world to get this ramshackle old bus fixed as good as new. It was falling to bits when you bought it, and that was way back. You’d do better sweet-talking a millionaire into buying you a new van.’

‘No point in me chasing a millionaire,’ Selena sighed. ‘Haven’t got the figure for it.’

‘Sez who?’ Ben demanded loyally.

‘Sez me!’

He regarded her tall, ultra-slim figure. ‘Maybe you’re a little flat-chested,’ he admitted.

‘Ben, under these old jeans I’m flat everything.’ She grinned with rueful self-mockery. ‘It’s no use. Millionaires like their women—’ with both hands she traced the outline of a voluptuous figure. ‘And that’s something I never was. Haven’t got the hair for it either. You need long, wavy tresses not—’ she pointed to her boyish crop.

It was a startling red that blazed out like a beacon, telling the world, ‘I’m here!’ There was no way to overlook Selena. Smart, cheeky, independent, and optimistic to the point of craziness, she was her own woman. Anyone who challenged that soon learned the other lesson of that red hair. Beware!

‘Besides,’ Selena said, coming to her clincher argument, ‘I don’t like millionaires. They’re not real people.’

Ben scratched his head. ‘They aren’t?’

‘No way,’ Selena said, like someone articulating an article of faith. ‘They have too much money.’

‘Too much money is what you could do with right now. Or a miracle.’

‘A miracle would be easier,’ she said. ‘And I’ll find one. No—it’ll find me.’

‘Darn it, Selena, will you try to be a bit realistic?’

‘What for? What good did being realistic ever do me? Life’s more fun if you expect the best.’

‘And when the best don’t happen?’

‘Then think of another best and expect that. Ben, I promise you, somewhere, somehow, a genuine twenty-four-carat miracle is heading my way.’

Leo Calvani stretched his legs as far as he could, which wasn’t far. The flight from Rome to Atlanta took twelve hours, and he travelled first class because if you were six foot three, and forty-two inches of that was leg, you needed all the help you could get.

Normally he didn’t consider himself a ‘first class’ kind of man. Wealthy, yes. Afford the best, no problem. But frills and fuss made him nervous. So did cities, and fine clothes. That’s why he travelled in his oldest jeans and denim jacket, complete with scuffed shoes. It was his way of saying that ‘first class’ wasn’t going to get him.

An elegant stewardess hovered over him as solicitously as if he didn’t look like a hobo. ‘Champagne, sir?’

He took a moment to relish her large blue eyes and seductively curved figure. It was an instinctive reaction, a tribute paid to every woman under fifty, and since he was a warm-hearted man he usually found something to enjoy.

‘Sir?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Would you like some champagne?’

‘Whisky would be better.’

‘Of course, sir. We have—’ she rattled off a list of expensive brands until Leo’s eyes glazed.

‘Just whisky,’ he said, with a touch of desperation.

As he sipped the drink he yawned and wished the journey away. Eleven hours gone and the last was the worst because he’d run out of distractions. He’d watched the film, enjoyed two excellent meals and flirted with the lady sitting beside him.

She’d responded cheerfully, attracted by his handsome, blunt-featured face framed by dark-brown hair with a touch of curl, and the lusty gleam in his blue eyes. They’d enjoyed a pleasant hour or two until she fell asleep. After that he flirted with the air hostesses.

But for the moment he was alone, with only his thoughts of the coming visit to occupy him. A couple of weeks on the Four-Ten, Barton Hanworth’s ranch near Stephenville, Texas, enjoying wide-open spaces, the outdoor life, riding, attending the nearby rodeo, was his idea of heaven.

At last the great jet was descending to Atlanta. Soon he’d be able to stretch his legs, even if only for a couple of hours before squeezing his protesting frame onto the connecting flight to Dallas.

Ben pared the bill to the bone because he was fond of Selena, and he knew her next few dollars would go on Elliot’s welfare. Any cents left over would buy food for herself, and if there were none, she’d go without. He helped her hitch the horse trailer onto the back of the van, kissed her cheek for luck and watched as she eased her way carefully out of his yard. As she vanished he sent up a prayer to whichever deity watched over crazy young women who had nothing in the world but a horse, a clapped-out van, the heart of a lion and a bellyful of stubbornness.

By the time Leo boarded the connecting flight at Atlanta jet lag was catching up with him and he managed to doze until they touched down. As he unfolded his long body he vowed never to get on another aeroplane as long as he lived. He did that after every flight.

As he came out of Customs he heard a booming voice.

‘Leo, you young rascal!’

Leo’s face lit up at the sight of his friend advancing on him with open arms.

‘Barton, you old rascal!’

The next moment the two men were pummelling each other joyfully.

Barton Hanworth was in his fifties, a large amiable man with grizzled hair and the start of a paunch that his height still disguised. His voice and his laugh were enormous. So were his car, his ranch and his heart.

Leo made sure to study the car. In the six weeks since this trip was planned he’d spoken to Barton several times on the telephone, and never once had his friend missed the chance to talk about his ‘new baby’. It was the latest, the loveliest, the fastest. He didn’t mention price, but Leo had checked it online, and it was the costliest.

So now he knew his duty, and lavished praise on the big, silver beauty, and was rewarded by Barton’s beaming smile.

Since Leo travelled light it took barely a moment to load his few bags, and they were away on the two-hour journey to the ranch near Stephenville.

‘How come you flew from Rome?’ Barton said, his eyes on the road. ‘I thought Pisa was closer for you.’

‘I was in Rome for my cousin Marco’s engagement party,’ Leo said. ‘Do you know him? I forget.’

Barton grunted. ‘He was at your farm when I came to Italy two years back, and bought those horses of yours. What’s she like?’

‘Harriet?’ A big grin broke over Leo’s handsome face. ‘I tell you, Barton, if she weren’t my cousin’s fiancée—well, she is, more’s the pity.’

‘So Marco drew the prize and he’s hog-tied at last?’

‘Yes, I think he is,’ Leo said thoughtfully. ‘But I’m not sure if he knows it yet. If you believe him, he’s making a “suitable” marriage to the granddaughter of his mother’s old friend, but there was something very odd about that party. I don’t know what happened exactly, but afterward Marco spent the night outside, sleeping on the ground. I went out for a breather at dawn, and saw him. He didn’t see me, so I vanished.’

‘No explanations?’

‘He never said a word. You know, Marco’s last engagement got broken off in a way nobody ever talks about.’

‘And you think this one’ll be the same?’

‘Could be. It depends on how soon he realises he’s crazy about Harriet.’

‘What about your brother? Isn’t he going the same way?’

‘Oh, Guido’s got enough sense to know when he’s crazy. He’s all right. Dulcie’s perfect for him.’

‘So that just leaves you on the loose?’ Barton said with a fat chuckle.

‘On the loose and happy to stay that way. They won’t catch me.’

‘That’s what they all say, but look around. Good men are going down like ninepins.’

‘Barton, have you any idea how many women there are in the world?’ Leo demanded. ‘And how few of them I’ve managed to meet so far? A man should be broad-minded, expand his horizons.’

‘You’ll find “the one”, in the end,’ Barton said.

‘But I do, time and again. Then the next day I find another one who is also “the one”. That’s how I get short-changed.’

‘You? Short-changed?’ Barton guffawed.

‘True, I swear it. Look at me, all alone. No loving wife, no kids.’ He sighed sorrowfully. ‘You don’t know what a tragedy it is for a man to realise that nature has made him fickle.’

‘Yeah, sure!’

This time they both laughed. Leo had a delightful laugh, full of sun and wine, lusty with life. He was a man of the earth, who instinctively sought the open air and the pleasures of the senses. It was all there in his eyes, and in his big, relaxed body. But above all it was there in his laugh.

On the last lap to Stephenville Barton began to yawn.

‘It’s enough to make a man cross-eyed to be staring at a horse’s ass for so long,’ he said.

Just ahead of them was an ancient, shabby horse trailer, displaying a large equine rump. It had been there for some time.

‘Plus I had to get up at some ungodly hour to be at the airport on time,’ Barton added.

‘Hey, I’m sorry. You should have told me.’

‘Well, it wasn’t just that. We were up late last night, celebrating your visit.’

‘But I wasn’t there.’

‘Don’t fret. We’ll celebrate again tonight,’ Barton said, adding, by way of explanation, ‘this is Texas.’

‘So I see,’ Leo said, grinning. ‘I’m already beginning to wonder if I can take the pace. I’d offer to drive, but after that flight I’m in a worse state than you.’

‘Well, it’s not much further,’ Barton grunted. ‘Which is lucky because whoever’s driving that horse trailer can’t be doing more than fifty. Let’s step on it.’

‘Better not,’ Leo advised quickly. ‘If you’re tired—’

‘The sooner we’re there the better. Here we go.’

He pulled out behind the horse trailer and speeded up to pass it. Glancing out of his window Leo saw the trailer slide back past them, then the van in front. He had a glimpse of the driver, a young woman with short, bristly red hair. She glanced up briefly and saw him looking at her.

What happened next became a bone of contention between them. She always said he winked at her. He swore she’d winked at him first. She said no way! It was a trick of the light and he had windmills in his head. They never did settle it.

Then Barton put his foot down, and they left her behind.

‘Did you see that?’ Leo asked. ‘She winked at me. Barton? Barton!’

‘OK, OK, I was just resting my eyes for a moment. But maybe you’d better talk to me—you know, just—sort of—’

‘Just sort of keep you awake. Well, I’m not sure that overtaking has left us any better off.’ Leo said, observing the pick-up truck that was now just ahead of them, and which was being driven erratically, swerving from lane to lane. Barton swung right, meaning to overtake again, but the truck swung at the same moment, blocking him so that he had to fall back. He tried once more and the truck swung out a second time, and then slowed abruptly.

‘Barton!’ Leo said urgently, for his friend hadn’t reacted.

At last Barton’s reflexes seemed to kick in. It was too late to slow down. Only a halt would avoid a collision now and he slammed on the brakes, stopping just in time.

The van behind them wasn’t so lucky. From out of sight came a squeal of brakes, then a thump, a shudder that went right through the car, and finally a howl of rage and anguish.

The truck that had caused the trouble sped on its way, the driver oblivious. The two men leapt out and ran behind to inspect the damage. The sight that met their eyes appalled them.

There was an ugly dent in the back of Barton’s pride and joy, which exactly mirrored one in the front of the van. At the rear of the van things were even worse. The sudden braking had caused the horse trailer to slew sideways and crash against the vehicle with a force that had dented them both. The trailer had half overturned and was leaning drunkenly against the van, while inside, the terrified animal was lashing out, completing the demolition. Leo could see flying hooves appearing through the widening holes, then retreating for more kicks.

The young woman with red hair was struggling to get the trailer upright, an impossible task, but she went at it with frantic strength.

‘Don’t do that,’ Leo yelled. ‘You’ll get hurt.’

She turned on him. ‘Stay out of it!’ Her forehead was bleeding.

‘You’re hurt,’ he said. ‘Let me help—’

‘I said stay out of it. Haven’t you done enough?’

‘Hey, I wasn’t driving, and anyway it wasn’t our—’

‘What do I care which of you was driving? You’re all the same. You rush around in your flash cars as though you owned the road, and you could have killed Elliot.’

‘Elliot?’

Another crash from inside the trailer answered his question. The next moment the door had given way and the horse, hooves flailing, leapt out and into the road. Leo and the young woman raced for his head, but he evaded them both and galloped away, straight across the highway. Without a second’s hesitation she tore after him, dodging the oncoming traffic.

‘Crazy woman!’ Leo said violently, and took off after her.

More squeals, braking, curses, frustrated drivers bawling graphic descriptions of how they would like to alter Leo’s personal attributes. He ignored them and sprinted madly after her.

Barton scratched his head, muttered, ‘Crazy as each other,’ and got out his mobile phone.

Luckily for his two pursuers Elliot was slightly hurt and unable to go fast. Unluckily for them he was determined not to be caught. What he couldn’t manage in speed he made up for in cunning, turning this way and that until he vanished into a clump of trees.

‘You go that way,’ Leo roared, ‘I’ll go this way, and between us we’ll head him off.’

But their best efforts were unable to persuade the horse. Selena nearly succeeded, calling his name so that he paused and looked back. But then he was off again, managing to dart between them and heading back the way he’d come.

‘Oh, no!’ Leo breathed. ‘Not the highway.’

In a frighteningly short space of time the traffic was in sight again. Appalled at what he could imagine happening, Leo put on a burst of speed, commanding his long legs to do their stuff. They obliged and he just made it, seizing the bridle with two yards to spare.

Elliot eyed him warily, but with Leo’s first soothing words something seemed to come over him. He’d never heard the words before, for they were Italian, but Leo had the voice of a man who loved horses, speaking a universal language of affection. Elliot’s shivering abated and he stood still, nervous and confused, but willing to trust.

Selena noticed all this subconsciously while she covered the last few yards, and the easy conquering of her beloved Elliot did nothing to improve her temper. Nor did the expert way this man was examining the animal’s fetlocks, running gentle hands over them and finally saying, ‘I don’t think it’s more serious than a slight strain, but a vet will confirm it.’

A vet’s bill, when she was already scraping the bottom of her financial barrel. Lest he suspect that she was verging on despair she turned away, brushing a hand fiercely across her eyes. When she turned back anger and accusation were in place like a visor.

‘More than a slight strain,’ she echoed bitterly. ‘There needn’t have been any strain if you hadn’t braked so suddenly.’

‘Excuse me, I didn’t do anything because I wasn’t driving,’ Leo said, breathing hard after his exertions. ‘That was my friend, and it wasn’t his fault either. Try blaming the guy who slowed in front of us. Not that you can do that because he’s long gone, but if there’s any fairness in the world—hell, what would you know about fairness?’

‘I know about my injured horse and my damaged van. I know they got that way because I had to slam on my brakes at the last minute—’

‘Ah, yes, your brakes. I’d be very interested to see your brakes. I’ll bet they’d really prove interesting.’

‘So now you’re trying to put the blame on me!’

‘I’m just—’

‘That’s the oldest scam in the book and you should be ashamed to try it.’

‘I—’

‘I know your sort. You think “woman alone”, must be helpless. Let’s try it on, see if she scares easy.’

‘It never crossed my mind that you scared easy,’ Leo retorted with perfect truth. ‘As for helpless, I’ve seen man-eating tigers who were more helpless.’

Barton had crossed the road and caught up with them.

‘Hold on a minute, Leo—’

Leo was normally the most easygoing of men, but he had a Latin temper that could flare impressively when it got going. It was going now.

‘We’re here aren’t we? So blame us. We’re just convenient scapegoats and—and—’ As always when his English failed him he fell back on his native language and for the next minute words poured out of him in an unstoppable stream.

‘Darn it, Leo!’ Barton roared at last. ‘Will you stop being so excitable and—and Italian?’

‘I just wanted to say what I feel,’ Leo said.

‘Well, you did that. So why don’t we all calm down and get acquainted?’

He turned to the young woman and introduced himself in his easygoing way.

‘Barton Hanworth, Four-Ten Ranch, just outside Stephenville, about five miles ahead.’

‘Selena Gates. On my way to Stephenville.’

‘Fine. We can get your—er—vehicle seen to when we’re there, and a vet for your horse.’

Selena tore her hair. ‘But how are we going to get there? Fly?’

‘Nope. I just made a call and help is on its way now. While we’re waiting for things to get sorted out you’ll stay with us a day or so.’

‘I will?’

‘Where else?’ he asked genially. ‘If I landed you in this fix, it’s for me to get you out.’

Selena shot a suspicious look at Leo. ‘But he says it wasn’t your fault.’

‘Well, I may have reacted just a little too late,’ Barton conceded, unable to meet Leo’s eye. ‘Fact is, if I’d slowed sooner—well anyway, you don’t want to take any notice of what my friend here says.’ He leaned towards her conspiratorially. ‘He’s a foreigner—talks funny.’

‘Thanks Barton,’ Leo grinned.

He was still giving most of his attention to Elliot, stroking the horse’s nose and murmuring in a way that the animal seemed to find calming. Selena watched him, saying nothing, seeing everything.

Whatever orders Barton had given must have been to the point, because in a short time things started happening. A truck appeared, drawing a slant-load gooseneck trailer, bearing the logo of the Four-Ten Ranch, and large enough for three horses.

Gently Selena led Elliot up the ramp. He was clearly limping now.

‘There’ll be a vet and a doctor waiting when we get home,’ Barton said. ‘Now, you get in the car with us, and we’ll be off.’

‘Thanks but I’ll stay with Elliot,’ she said.

Barton frowned. ‘It’s against the law for you to do that. Oh, what the hell?’ he retreated, seeing her stubborn expression. ‘It’s only five miles.’

‘I have to stay with Elliot,’ Selena explained. ‘He’ll be nervous in a new place without me. What about my van?’

‘Don’t you worry, that’s being attached now,’ Barton assured her.

‘Elliot doesn’t like going too fast,’ she said quickly.

‘I’ll make sure the driver knows that. Leo, you coming?’

‘No, I think I’ll stay here,’ he said.

‘I don’t need any help with Elliot,’ Selena said quickly.

‘It’s not Elliot I’m thinking of. You took a nasty bump on the head, and you shouldn’t be on your own.’

‘I’m all right.’

Leo climbed into the trailer and stood, arms folded, looking stubborn.

‘We can start the journey and get Elliot to a vet, or we can stand here talking until you give in. It’s up to you.’

He pulled the door closed as he spoke. Selena glared but didn’t argue further. She even allowed him to help her settle Elliot in one of the stalls.

She was angry with him, without being quite sure why. She knew he hadn’t been driving, and Barton Hanworth, who had been driving, was making handsome amends. But her nerves were jangled, she’d had the fright of her life, and all her agitation seemed to be homing in on this man who had the nerve to order her about, and was now talking to her in much the same soothing voice he’d used to calm Elliot. Crime of crimes!

‘We’ll be there soon,’ he said. ‘You can get some proper treatment.’

‘I don’t need mollycoddling,’ she said through gritted teeth.

‘Well, I would if I’d had a crash like you did.’

‘I guess some of us are just tougher than others,’ she said grumpily.

He left it there. She looked ill and he reckoned she was entitled to her bad temper. When she turned away to Elliot he watched, observing with wonder how she’d switched from bawling him out to being gentle and tender with the animal.

He was a quarter horse, not beautiful but solid and showing signs of a hard life. From the way she rested her cheek against his nose it was clear that he was perfect in her eyes.

At first glance she too wasn’t beautiful, except for her eyes which were large and green. Her skin had the peachy glow of health and outdoor living, and her face looked as though it might be engagingly mischievous at a better time. Also Leo’s observant eyes had noticed her movements with pleasure. She was as slim as a lathe, not elegant but tough and wiry, yet she moved with the instinctive grace of a dancer.

He tried to see her marvellous eyes again, without being obvious about it. With eyes like that a woman didn’t need anything else. They did it all for her.

‘My name’s Leo Calvani,’ he said, offering his hand.

She took it, and he immediately sensed the strength he’d guessed was there. He tightened his fingers a little, seeking to know more, but she withdrew her hand at once, having left it in his for no more than the minimum that courtesy demanded.

They started to move, slowly as Selena had insisted. After a few minutes he realised that she was studying him with curiosity. Not erotic curiosity, as he was used to. Or romantic fascination, which also came his way satisfyingly often.

Just curiosity. As though maybe he wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought, and she was prepared to make allowances.

But no more than that.

CHAPTER TWO

THE Four-Ten Ranch was ten thousand acres of prime land, populated by five thousand head of cattle, two hundred horses, fifty employees and a family of six.

Selena knew she was in the presence of very serious money when she climbed stiffly out of the horse trailer and saw the stables where Barton kept his prize horse-flesh. She knew humans who lived worse.

Everything moved like clockwork. As she walked in, leading Elliot, a man was pulling open the door of a large, comfortable stall. A vet was already there. So was a doctor, who would have drawn her aside, but Leo Calvani forestalled him with the quiet words, ‘Let her attend the horse first. She won’t settle down until she’s seen him OK.’

She gave him a brief look of gratitude for his understanding, and watched jealously as the vet passed expert hands over Elliot and gave a diagnosis that was roughly the same as Leo’s, with a little elaboration to justify his fee. An anti-inflammatory injection, some bandaging, and it was over.

‘Will he be fit for the rodeo next week?’ Selena asked anxiously.

‘We’ll see. He’s not a young horse any more.’

‘How about letting the doctor look at you now?’ Leo asked her.

She nodded and sat while the doctor examined her head. Beneath her apparent calm she was fighting despair. Her head was aching, her heart was aching and she was aching all over.

‘How are those animals I sold you two years back?’ Leo asked Barton. ‘Shaping up?’

‘Come and see for yourself.’

Together the two men walked along the stalls, and long, intelligent faces turned to watch them go by.

The five horses Barton had bought from Leo were in beautiful condition. They were large beasts with powerful hocks, and they’d been worked hard but treated like royalty.

‘I’ll swear they remember you,’ Barton said as they nuzzled Leo.

‘They don’t forget a sucker.’ Leo grinned.

While admiring the horses he contrived to glance at Selena, who was having a dressing fixed to her forehead.

‘Take it easy for a day or two,’ the doctor was saying. ‘Plenty of rest.’

‘It was just a little bump,’ she insisted.

‘Just a little bump on your head.’

‘I’ll make sure she rests,’ Barton said. ‘My wife’s getting a room ready right now.’

‘That’s nice of her,’ Selena said awkwardly, ‘but I’d rather stay here with Elliot.’

She indicated the piles of hay as though wondering why anyone could want more.

‘Well, you’ve gotta come in to eat,’ Barton exclaimed. ‘We’re just having a snack because we’ll be starting the barbecue in a couple of hours.’

‘You’re very kind but I can’t come in the house,’ Selena said, horribly conscious of her shabby, dishevelled appearance.

Barton scratched his head. ‘Mrs Hanworth will be offended if you don’t.’

‘Then I’ll come in and say thank you.’

She wouldn’t need to stay long, she reckoned: just enough to be polite.

Reluctantly she followed them across to the house, which was a huge white mansion, the very sight of which made her feel awkward. She wondered how Leo would cope. In his shabby jeans and scuffed trainers he looked as out of place as she felt, although it didn’t seem to bother him.

The sound of eager shrieks made Leo look up, and the next moment he was engulfed by the Hanworth family.

Delia, Barton’s wife, was colourful, exuberant, and looked ten years younger than her true age. She and Barton had three children, two daughters, Carrie and Billie, younger versions of their mother, plus Jack, a studious son who seemed to live in a dream world, semi-detached from the rest of the family.

The household was completed by Paul, or Paulie as Delia insisted on calling him. He was her son by an earlier marriage, and the apple of her eye. She spoiled him absurdly, to the groaning exasperation of everyone else.

Paulie greeted Leo as a kindred spirit, slapping him on the back and predicting ‘great times’ together, which made Leo feel like groaning too. Paulie was in his late twenties, good-looking in a fleshy, superficial way, but self-indulgence was already blurring his features. He was a businessman in his own estimation, but his ‘business’ consisted of an internet company, his fifth, which was rapidly failing, as the other four had failed.

Barton had bailed him out, time and again, always swearing that this time was the last, and always yielding to Delia’s entreaties for ‘just one more’.

But just now the atmosphere was genial. Paulie, on his best behaviour, had recognised Selena.

‘I’ve seen you riding in the rodeo at—’ he rattled off a list of names. ‘Seen you win, too.’

Selena relaxed, managing a smile.

‘I don’t win much,’ she admitted. ‘But enough to keep going.’

‘You’re a star,’ Paulie said, taking her hand and pumping it up and down between his two. ‘It surely is an honour to meet you.’

If Selena felt the same she disguised it successfully. There was something about Paulie that laid a disagreeable sheen even over his attempts to flatter. She thanked him and withdrew her hand, fighting the temptation to rub it on her jeans. Paulie had a clammy palm.

‘Your room is ready now,’ Delia said kindly. ‘The girls will show you upstairs.’

Carrie and Billie immediately took charge of Selena, drawing her up the huge staircase before she had time to protest. Paulie followed, impossible to shake off, and by the time they reached the best guest bedroom he’d contrived to get in front and throw open the door.

‘Only the best for our famous guest,’ he carolled facetiously.

Since Selena wasn’t famous, and knew it, this only made her look at him askance. Already she could see a neon sign over Paulie’s head, reading ‘Trouble’. She was glad when Carrie eased her brother out of the room.

She looked around her, made even more uneasy by the magnificence. The large room had been decorated in pink, mauve and white, Delia’s favourite colours. The carpet was a delicate pink that made Selena check her boots for mud. The curtains were pink and mauve brocade and the huge four-poster bed was hung with fine white net curtains. It could have slept four, she thought, testing the mattress gingerly. It was so soft and springy that she took a step back. How did anyone sleep on that without bouncing off?

She took a tour of the room, wondering if they’d put her in the wrong place. Perhaps the Queen of England would step out of the wardrobe and say this was really her room.

The bathroom was equally alarming, being frilly and feminine, with a tub shaped like a huge seashell. If there was one thing Selena knew she wasn’t, it was frilly and feminine. She would have preferred a shower, but the cap wasn’t quite big enough to protect the dressing on her forehead, so she ran a bath.

When it was just right she climbed in gingerly, relishing the comfort of sinking into the hot water and feeling it soothe her bruises. She sorted her way through the profusion of soaps until she found the least heavily perfumed and began to lather herself with it. Gradually the turmoil of the day slipped away from her. Maybe there was something to be said for soft living after all. Not much, but something.

A row of glass jars stood along a shelf just above the bath, each filled with crystals of a different colour. Curious, she took one down, unscrewed the top and gagged at the aroma, which was even more overpowering than the soap. Gasping, she hastened to replace the top, but her fingers were too slippery to grip properly and the jar slipped straight through them, down into the water and crashed against the bath with an ominous splintering sound. The shock, coming on top of everything else, surprised a yell from her.

Leo, settling into his own room across the hall, was undressing for a shower and had just stripped off his shirt when he heard the yell and paused. Stepping out into the corridor, he stopped again, listening. Silence. Then, from behind Selena’s door came a despairing voice.

‘Oh no! What am I going to do?’

He knocked on her door. ‘Hello? Are you all right?’

Her voice reached him faintly. ‘Not really.’

He pushed open the door, but could see nobody inside.

‘Hello?’

‘In here.’ Now he could tell that she was in the bathroom, and he approached the open door gingerly, trying not to gasp from the sweet, powerful aroma that surged out and surrounded his head like a cloud.

‘Is it all right for me to come in?’ he asked.

‘I’m stuck here forever if you don’t.’

Moving cautiously he looked around the door to the great pink shell. Selena was in the middle of it, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him with frantic eyes.

‘I smashed a jar of crystals,’ she said desperately.

He looked around. ‘Where?’

‘In the bath. There’s broken glass everywhere under the water, but I can’t see where it is. I daren’t move.’

‘OK, don’t panic.’ He found a white towel and handed it to her, averting his eyes as she reached for it.

When she’d covered her top she said, ‘You can look. I’m decent—ish.’

‘Can you reach the plug?’

‘Not without stretching.’

‘Then I’ll do it. Don’t move. Just tell me where it is.’

‘Between my feet.’

Gingerly he slid his fingers down the inner surface of the bath, trying to find the plug without touching her, an almost impossible task. At last he found it and managed to ease it open so that the bath could start draining.

‘When the water’s gone right down I can start to remove the glass,’ he said.

At last it came into view, ugly, sharp pieces, dangerously close to her body. He began to pick them out one by one. It was a long process because the jar had smashed into dozens of fragments, and the movement of the water meant that as he cleared one place of tiny, threatening shards, it filled up again with others. Gradually the level dropped, and more of her came into view, which gave him another problem…

‘I’m trying not to look, but I really do need to see what I’m doing,’ he said desperately.

‘Do what you have to,’ she agreed.

He took a deep breath. The towel could only cover so much of her, and the water was vanishing fast.

‘I’ve shifted all I can,’ Leo said at last. ‘You’ve got to get out by only moving upward, not sideways.’

‘But how can I? I shall have to shift around to get my balance, and hold onto something.’

‘You hold onto me.’ He leaned down. ‘Put your arms around my neck.’

She did so, and the towel immediately slithered away.

‘Forget it,’ Leo said. ‘I’m trying to be a gentleman, but would you rather be safe or modest?’

‘Safe,’ she said at once. ‘Let’s go.’

She gripped her hands behind his neck and felt his hands on her waist. They were big hands, and they almost encompassed her tiny span. Slowly he straightened up, drawing her with him. She was pressed right against him now, trying not to be too conscious of her bare breasts against his chest, and the way the light covering of hair tickled her.

A bit more, a bit more. Inch by inch they were managing it. The last of the water vanished, revealing a very nasty piece of glass that he’d missed. Selena looked down, horrified, then tried to kick it away.

It was a fatal error. The next moment her foot had slithered from under her and she was falling. But Leo tightened one arm about her, and with the other he reached down, grabbed her behind, and stepped away so fast that he was caught off balance. He staggered back out of the bathroom and for several wild steps he fought to stay upright. But it was no good. The next moment he was on his back on the plush pink carpet, with Selena sprawled naked on top of him.

‘Oh God!’ she shivered, clinging onto him and forgetting about modesty, about everything except that wicked looking spike.

He held on to her, breathing hard, trying to regain his equilibrium which was whirling away into space, among the stars and planets, wild, glorious, dizzying. The feel of her on top of him was both scary and wonderful, and he knew he had to put a stop to it, fast.

Then his blood froze at an ominous sound.

A female giggle. Two female giggles. Right outside the door.

‘Selena,’ came Carrie’s voice. ‘Can we come in?’

‘No!’ Selena’s voice rose to a yelp and she jumped up. She just made it to the door in time, reaching out to turn the key.

There wasn’t one. The door didn’t lock.

Disaster!

‘Don’t come in, I’m not decent,’ she called, putting her back against the door and pushing. ‘I’ll be down in a minute. Please tell your mom thank you, for me.’

To their relief the voices faded away.

Leo pulled himself together, wondering how much more he could stand. If holding her against him on the floor hadn’t destroyed his nervous system, watching her streak across the room like a gazelle had nearly finished him off.

But it had been useful in ascertaining one thing.

His rescue had been successful. There wasn’t a scratch on her anywhere.

She dashed into the bathroom and returned in a towelling robe, which mercifully enveloped her.

‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘You saved me from something very nasty.’

He’d gotten to his feet. ‘I’d better go before both our reputations are ruined.’

‘What am I going to say to Mrs Hanworth?’

‘Leave that to me. I don’t think you should go downstairs at all. Go to bed. That’s an order.’

He checked the corridor and was relieved to find it empty. But no sooner had he stepped out than Carrie and Billie appeared, almost as though they’d been hiding around the corner.

‘Hi Leo! Everything OK?’

‘Not quite,’ he said, horribly conscious that he was only half dressed, and trying not to go red. ‘Selena dropped one of the glass jars into the bath, while she was in it, and it smashed.’

‘Poor Selena! Is she still trapped in there?’

‘No, I got her out, and she’s safe,’ he said, wishing the earth would swallow him up. ‘I promised her I’d tell your mom about the jar. I’ll do that—er—just as soon as I’ve put on a shirt.’

He got into his room as fast as he could, trying not to hear two teenage girls snickering significantly. It was a sound calculated to freeze a man’s blood.

Delia reacted just as Leo had known she would, with sympathy and kindness.

‘What’s a jar?’ she said. ‘I’ll go and make sure she’s all right.’

She was back in a few minutes, sweeping into the kitchen to order food to be taken upstairs to Selena. She seemed to have spoken to her daughters in the meantime, for her attitude to Leo had developed a tinge of roguishness.

‘I gather you played knight in shining armour. And who could blame you? She’s a very nice-looking girl.’

‘Delia, I swear I never met her before today.’

Fatal mistake. Delia smiled knowingly. ‘You Italians are so dashing and romantic, never missing a chance with the ladies.’

‘What are those wonderful smells coming from the kitchen?’ he asked desperately, ‘because you are looking at a starving man.’

Mercifully food was allowed to drive out all other topics of conversation, and the only other person who raised the matter was Paulie, who nudged Leo aside and said much the same as his mother, except that he made it sound vulgar and offensive. When Leo had smilingly explained to Paulie all the unpleasant things he would do to his person if he ever mentioned it again, the matter was allowed to drop.

While he dressed for the barbecue Leo tried to get his own reactions in perspective. Despite her prickly defensiveness, for which he reckoned nobody could blame her, Selena was oddly appealing. But there wasn’t, at first glance, anything special about her. Even holding her naked body shouldn’t have been a big deal, since she lacked the buxomness he preferred in women.

Yet, mysteriously, something about her had got to him. He still couldn’t figure out what, but the sight of Paulie smacking his fat lips over what he thought had gone on in her room had filled him with rage. Leo, the most amiable of men, had only been restrained from violence by recalling that this was his hostess’s son.

Guests were starting to arrive, heading for the field where the big party was taking place, the same field where last night’s big party had taken place, and where there would be another one just as soon as someone could think of an excuse. Leo watched it from his window, grinning, anticipating the evening.

‘Ready for a great time?’ Barton hollered as Leo came down the stairs.

‘I’m always ready for that,’ Leo said, truthfully. ‘But can we call in at the stables first?’

‘Sure, if you want. But Leo, you don’t have to worry. She’s going to be all right.’

‘Elliot’s a he.’

‘It wasn’t Elliot I was meaning,’ Barton said, seeming to speak to nobody in particular.

The anti-inflammatory drug was evidently taking effect, and Elliot seemed contented. The way to the barbecue field led past Barton’s garage, and through the open door Leo could see Selena’s van, and the remains of the horse trailer.

‘That’s had its day,’ Barton mused. ‘The wonder is, how it lasted so long.’

Leo climbed into the van. What he saw there made him grow very still.

He thought of himself as a man who could cope with tough living, but the inside of her home shocked him. Everything was the barest and meanest possible. There was a couch just long enough for her to sleep, a tiny stove, a minute washing area. The best that could be said for the place was that it was spotlessly clean.

His own experiences of living rough, he realised, had been those of a rich man, playing with a kind of toy. However harsh the conditions, he could always return to a comfortable life when he got bored with playing. But for her there was no escape. This was her reality.

What could have made her choose the life of a wanderer, which seemed to offer her so little?

One thing was becoming horribly clear. The accident had robbed her of almost everything she had.

After that he had no chance to think gloomy thoughts. Texas hospitality opened its arms to him, and he rushed into them, enjoying every moment, and telling himself he’d have time to be exhausted later. What with plentiful food and drink, music and pretty girls to dance with, several hours slipped happily away.

When he could pause for breath he wondered how Selena was fixed? Had she eaten the supper Delia sent up, and was she hungry again?

He piled a plate high with steak and potatoes, tucked some cans of beer under his arm and headed for the house. But some instinct made him check the stables—just in case. As he’d half expected, Selena was there, leaning on the door of Elliot’s stall, just watching him contentedly.

‘How is he?’ Leo asked, looking in.

She jumped up. ‘He’s better. He’s calmed down a lot.’

She was better too, he could see that. Her cheeks had colour and her eyes were bright. He raised the plate to show her and she eyed the steak hungrily.

‘That for me?’

‘Well, it sure as hell isn’t for Elliot. Come on out.’

He found a solid bale of hay and they sat down together. He handed her a beer and she tipped her head back to take most of it in one go.

‘Oh, that was good!’ she sighed.

‘Well, there’s plenty more out there,’ he said, indicating the door with his head. ‘In fact there’s plenty of steaks too. Why not come out and join the party?’

‘Thanks, but I won’t.’

‘Still not feeling up to partying?’

‘No, I’m better. I slept well. It’s just—all those people, looking at me and thinking my voice isn’t right, and—everything isn’t right.’

‘Who says you’re not right?’

‘I do. This house—everything—it gives me the heebie-jeebies.’

‘You’ve never been in a house like that before?’

‘Oh, sure, plenty of times. Just not through the front door. I’ve worked in places like this, mopping floors, cleaning up in the kitchen, anything that was going. Mind you, I preferred a job in the stable.’

‘When was this? You talk like you were ancient, but you can’t be more than forty.’

‘More than—?’ She saw the wicked gleam in his eyes, and laughed. ‘I’d thump you if you weren’t sitting between me and the beer.’

‘That’s what I like,’ he said, handing her another can. ‘A woman with a sense of priorities. So, not forty then?’

‘I’m twenty-six.’

‘And when was all this ancient history?’

‘I’ve been looking after myself since I was fourteen.’

‘Shouldn’t you have been at school?’

Another shrug. ‘I suppose.’

‘What happened to your parents?’

After a few moment’s silence she said, ‘I was raised in a home, several actually.’

‘You mean you’re an orphan?’

‘Probably not. Nobody knew who my father was. Not sure even my mom knew that. All I really knew about her was that she was just a kid herself when she had me, couldn’t cope, put me in a home. I expect she meant to come back for me, but things got too much for her.’ Selena took another swig.

‘And what then?’ Leo asked, in the grip of an appalled fascination.

‘Foster homes.’

‘Homes? Plural?’

‘The first one was OK. That’s where I found out about horses. After that I knew whatever I did it had to be with horses. But the old man died and the stock got sold off and I was sent somewhere else. That was bad. The food was rotten and I was cheap labour, kept off from school because they were too mean to pay an extra hand. I told them where they could stick it and they sent me packing. Said I was “out of control”. Which was true. In a pig’s ear I was going to let them control me.’

‘But aren’t there laws to protect kids in this situation?’

She looked at him as if he was crazy.

‘Of course there are laws,’ she said patiently. ‘And inspectors to see that the laws are followed.’

‘So?’

‘So bad things happen anyway. Some of the inspectors are decent people, but they get swamped. There’s just too much to do. And some of them just see what they want to see because that way they finish work early.’

She spoke lightly, without bitterness, like someone describing life on another planet. Leo was aghast. His own existence in Italy, a country where family ties were still stronger than almost anywhere else, seemed like paradise in comparison.

‘What happened after that?’ he asked, in a daze.

She shrugged again and he realised how eloquent her shrugs were, each one seeming to contain a whole speech.

‘A new foster home, no different. I ran away, got caught and sent back to the institution, and after a while there was another foster home. That lasted three weeks.’

‘What then?’ he asked, for she’d fallen silent again.

‘This time I made sure they didn’t catch me. I was fourteen and could pass for sixteen. I don’t suppose they looked for me long. You know, this steak is really good.’

He accepted her change of subject without protest. Why should she want to discuss her life if it had been like that?

CHAPTER THREE

NOW that her fear for Elliot had been eased Selena was growing more relaxed, exuding an air of taking life as it came that Leo guessed was more normal with her.

‘Have you and Elliot been together long?’ he asked.

‘Five years. I got some work doing odd jobs about the rodeos, and bought him cheap from a guy who owed me money. He reckoned Elliot’s career was over, but I thought he still had good things in him if he was treated right. And I do treat him right.’

‘I guess he appreciates that,’ Leo said as she rose and went to fondle Elliot’s nose. The horse pressed forward to her.

He rose too and began to stroll along the stalls, looking in at the animals, who gazed back, peaceful, beautiful, almost seeming to glow in the dim light.

‘You know about horses,’ Selena asked, joining him. ‘I could tell.’

‘I breed a few, back home.’

‘Where’s home?’

‘Italy.’

‘Then you really are a foreigner.’

He grinned. ‘Couldn’t you tell by my “funny accent”?’

She gave a sudden blazing grin. ‘It’s not as funny as some I’ve heard.’

It was as though the sun had come up with her smile. Wanting to make her laugh, Leo went into a clowning version of Italian. Seizing her hand he kissed the back and crooned theatrically,

‘Bella signorina, letta me tell you abouta my country. In Eeetaly we know ’ow to appreciate a beautiful lai-ee-dy.’

She stared, more flabbergasted than impressed.

‘You talk like that in Italy?’

‘No, of course not,’ he said, reverting to his normal voice. ‘But when we’re abroad it’s how we’re expected to talk.’

‘Only by folk who need their heads examined.’

‘Well, I meet a lot of them. Most people’s ideas about Italians come straight out of cliché. We’re not all bottom pinchers.’

‘No, you just wink at women on the highway.’

‘Who does?’

‘You do. Did. When Mr Hanworth’s car passed me, I saw you looking at me, and you winked.’

‘Only because you winked first.’

‘I did not,’ she said, up in arms.

‘You did.’

‘I did not.’

‘I saw you.’

‘It was a trick of the light. I do not wink at strange men.’

‘And I don’t wink at strange women—unless they wink at me first.’

Suddenly she began to laugh, just as he’d wanted her to, and the sun came out again. He took her hand and led her back to the bale where they’d been sitting, and they clinked beer cans.

‘Tell me about your home,’ she said. ‘Where in Italy?’

‘Tuscany, the northern part, near the coast. I have a farm, breed some horses, grow some grapes. Ride in the rodeo.’

‘Rodeo? In Italy? You’re kidding me.’

‘No way! We have a little town called Grosseto, which has a rodeo every year, complete with a parade through the town. There’s a building there with walls covered with photos of the local “cowboys”. Until I was six I thought all cowboys were Italian. When my cousin Marco told me they came from the States I called him a liar. We had to be separated by our parents.’

He paused, for she was choking with laughter.

‘In the end,’ he said, ‘I had to come and see the real thing.’

‘Got any family, apart from your cousin?’

‘Some. Not a wife. I live alone except for Gina.’

‘She’s a live-in girlfriend?’

‘No, she’s over fifty. She cooks and cleans and makes dire predictions about how I’ll never find a wife because no younger woman will put up with that draughty building.’

‘Are the draughts really bad?’

‘They are in winter. Thick stone walls and flagstones to walk on.’

‘Sounds really primitive.’

‘I guess it is. It was built eight hundred years ago and as soon as I finish one repair it seems I have to start another. But in summer it’s beautiful. That’s when you appreciate the stone keeping you cool. And when you go out in the early morning and look down the valley, there’s a soft light that you see at no other time. But you have to be there at exactly the right moment, because it only lasts a few minutes. Then the light changes, becomes harsher, and if you want to see the magic again you have to go back next morning.’

He stopped, slightly surprised at himself for using so many words, and for the almost poetic strain of feeling that had come through them. He realised that she was looking at him with gentle interest.

‘Tell me more,’ she said. ‘I like listening to people talk about what they love.’

‘Yes, I suppose I do love it,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I love the whole life, even though it’s demanding, and sometimes rough and uncomfortable. At harvest you get up at dawn and go to bed when you’re in a state of collapse, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

‘You got brothers, sisters?’

‘I’ve got a younger brother—’ Leo grinned ‘—although technically Guido is the elder. In fact, legally I barely exist because it turned out my parents weren’t married, only nobody knew at the time.’

She made a quick, alert movement. ‘You mean you’re a bastard too?’

‘Yes, I guess I am.’

‘Do you care?’

‘Not in the slightest.’

‘Me neither,’ she said contentedly. ‘It sort of leaves you free. You can go where you want and do what you want, be who you want. Do you find it’s like that?’

Receiving no answer she turned to look at Leo and found him leaned right back, his eyes closed, his body stretched out in an attitude of abandon. Jet lag wouldn’t be fought off any longer.

Selena reached out to nudge him awake, but stopped with her hand an inch away, and watched him. The day’s turbulent events had left her no chance to consider him at leisure. He’d been the rescuer who’d caught up with Elliot, when she herself might not have done so in time, and whose gentle hands and voice had calmed the animal. If her beloved Elliot accepted him then she must too.

In the bathroom he’d saved her from nasty injury. Beyond that she hadn’t allowed herself to think. But she could think about it now, how it had felt to be held tightly against him, the soft scratching of the hairs on his chest against her bare breasts. She could remember, too, the bold way he’d grasped her behind with his big hand, hauling her to safety and removing his hand at once.

A gentleman, she thought. Even at that moment.

Everything about him pleased her, starting with the broad sweep of his forehead, half hidden now by a lock of hair that had fallen over it, and the heavy brows, and the dark-brown eyes beneath them. She liked the straight nose and the slightly heavy curved mouth that could smile in a way that hinted at delight to come for a woman with a brave spirit.

She wondered just how brave her own spirit was. In the ring she would take any risk, dare any fall, chance any unfamiliar horse, and laugh. But folk were different, harder to understand than horses. They were awkward and they could hurt you more than any tumble.

And yet she wanted to see Leo’s smile again, and follow the tempting hints to their conclusion.

She liked his foreignness, his faint Italian accent, his way of pronouncing certain words in a way that was strange to her, but delightful. She wanted to know him better, to discover more about the big, generously proportioned body, and to realise the promise implicit in those broad shoulders and lean, hard torso. As if drawn by a magnet her eyes fell on his hands, and memories sprang alive in her flesh. Those long fingers, touching her nakedness as he lifted her out of the bath. They seemed to be touching her now, this minute. She could feel them….

Hell, who did she think she was kidding? Everyone knew that Italians liked curvy females, with hour-glass figures.

And I don’t have any in-and-out, she reminded herself sorrowfully. Just ‘in.’ And he’s seen me now, so there’s no way to fool him.

Life was very hard!

Elliot whinnied softly, and the sound was enough to awaken Leo. He opened his eyes while her face was still close to his, and smiled.

‘I’ve died and gone to heaven,’ he said. ‘And you’re an angel.’

‘I don’t think they’ll be sending me to heaven. Not unless someone’s changed the rules.’

They both laughed, and she went to Elliot, who had whinnied again.

‘He’s just jealous because you’re giving me so much attention,’ Leo said.

‘He’s got nothing to be jealous about, and he knows it,’ Selena said. ‘He’s my family.’

‘Where do you live?’

‘Wherever Elliot and I happen to be.’

‘But you must have some sort of home base, where you stay when you’re not travelling?’

‘Nope.’

‘You mean, you’re travelling all the time?’

‘Yup.’

‘With no home to go to?’ he asked, aghast.

‘I’ve got a place where I’m registered for paying taxes. But I don’t live there. I live with Elliot. He’s my home as well as my family. And he always will be.’

‘It can’t be “always”,’ he pointed out. ‘I don’t know how old he is, but—’

‘He’s not old,’ Selena said quickly. ‘He looks older than he is because he’s a bit battered, but that’s all.’

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ Leo said gently. ‘But just how old is he?’

She sighed. ‘I’m not sure. But he’s not finished yet.’ She laid her cheek against Elliot’s nose. ‘They don’t know you like I do,’ she whispered, and turned her head away so that he couldn’t see the anguish that swamped her.

But he did see it, and his heart ached for her. That raw-boned animal, past his best, was all she had in the world to love.

Suddenly her strength seemed to drain away. Leo quickly took hold of her.

‘That’s it, you’re going to bed. Don’t argue because I won’t take no for an answer.’

He kept his arm firmly fixed about her waist in case she had any other ideas, but she was too weary to argue, and let him lead her away to the house and up the stairs to her room.

‘Goodnight,’ he said at her door. ‘Sleep well.’

‘Leo, you don’t understand,’ she confided in a low voice. ‘I can’t sleep in that bed. It’s too soft. Every time I move it bounces.’

His lips twitched. ‘They’re supposed to. Still, I know what you mean. If it’s not what you’re used to it can be worse than stones. You’ll just have to try to put up with all this comfort. You’ll get used to it.’

‘Not me,’ she said with conviction, and slipped into her room.

He stood looking at the closed door, a prey to unfamiliar feelings that confused him. He wanted to follow her into her bedroom, not to have his evil way, but to ask her to lay her problems on him, and promise to make everything right for her.

Having his evil way could come later. When he’d earned the right.

It was almost dawn when the last guest drove away, waving an arm out of the window and yodelling, ‘See ya!’ Bleary eyed and cheerful, the household drifted off to bed.

Leo sat down on his bed with a feeling of pleasant vagueness. The evening had contained much bourbon and rye, especially the last part, after he’d said goodnight to Selena and returned to the festivities. Now he was at peace with the world.

But he didn’t miss the sound of footsteps that stopped outside Selena’s bedroom door. A pause, then a soft creak as the door was opened. That was enough to make Leo’s tipsy haze pass, and send him out into the corridor in time to catch Paulie halfway through Selena’s door.

‘Why, isn’t this nice?’ he said in a voice that made Paulie jump. ‘Both of us so concerned about Selena that we couldn’t sleep until we knew she was fine.’

Paulie gave him a glassy smile. ‘Can’t neglect a guest.’

‘Paulie, you’re an example to us all.’

Leo was moving into the room as he spoke, switching on the light. Then both men stopped, taken aback by the sight of the empty bed.

‘That tomfool female has gone back to the stables,’ Leo muttered.

‘No I haven’t,’ came from a heap on the floor.

Leo switched on the bedside light and saw the heap separate itself into its various parts, which included a blanket, a pillow, and one tomfool female whose red hair stood up on her head in a shock.

‘What is it?’ she asked, sitting up. ‘Has something happened?’

‘No, Paulie and I were concerned for you, so we came to see how you were.’

‘That’s very kind,’ she said, guessing the truth at once. ‘I’m fine.’

‘She’s fine, Paulie. You can go to bed now, and sleep tight.’ Leo sat down on the floor beside Selena with the air of a man taking root.

‘Er—well, I just—’

‘Goodnight, Paulie.’ They spoke as one.

Forced to accept defeat, Paulie backed himself out of the door. The last thing they saw was his scowl.

‘I could have coped, you know,’ Selena said.

‘When you’re well, I’m sure you could,’ Leo said tactfully. ‘But let’s wait until then. Underneath Paulie’s flabby exterior there’s a very ugly customer waiting to get out.’

‘I reckoned that. But that’s three times in one day you’ve come galloping to my rescue. I just don’t want you to think I’m a wimp.’

‘After the day you’ve had, aren’t you entitled to be just a bit of a wimp?’

‘Nobody is entitled to be a wimp.’

‘Sorry!’

‘No, I’m sorry,’ she said contritely. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude. I know you were trying to be kind, but all this rescuing is getting to be a bad habit.’

‘I promise not to do it again. Next time I’ll abandon you to your fate, I swear.’

‘Do that.’

‘Are you all right on the floor?’

‘I put up with the bed as long as I could,’ she complained, ‘but it’s insane. Every time I turned over I went six feet in the air. This is much better.’

‘I’d better leave before I fall asleep.’ Suddenly he found himself vague. ‘Where am I? Is the party over?’

‘Must be.’ She smiled, fully understanding. ‘Was the whisky very good?’

‘Barton’s whisky is always good. And I should know. I had plenty of it.’

‘Shall I help you back to your room?’

‘I think I can make it. Lock your door when I’m gone. I wouldn’t put it past Delia’s little boy to try again.’

But then he remembered that the door it didn’t lock. He sighed. There was only one thing for it.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked as he returned to the bed and scooped up a blanket and pillow.

‘What does it look as if I’m doing?’ he said, dropping to the floor and stretching out across the door. ‘If he can open this door now he’s a better man than I take him for.’

‘You promised to leave me to my fate next time,’ she reminded him indignantly.

‘I know, but you can’t trust a word I say.’

Blessed sleep was overtaking him. His last coherent thought was that he’d be made to suffer for this in the morning.

But at least she would be safe.

He awoke feeling better than he had any right to after what he recalled of the barbecue. Already he could sense the house stirring about him, and reckoned it was safe to leave her.

It was better to be gone before she awoke. He wouldn’t have known what to say to her. Inside him he was jeering at himself for going into what he ironically called ‘chivalrous mode’.

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