Riccardo's Secret Child by Cathy Williams Page B

anyoneelse,’ he finished smoothly, dipping his eyes so that his long lashes drooped against his cheek. ‘Is it?’
    â€˜That’s not the point,’ Julia said stubbornly.
    â€˜No, but it makes things a lot easier. It’s a nice house,’ he said, looking around the kitchen. ‘Nothing at all like the house we shared.’
    Julia followed his eyes but said nothing. The house he had shared with Caroline had been, according to her descriptions of it, a show home. A place designed for the sumptuous entertaining of important people.
    â€˜It’s very comfortable and homely,’ he mused. ‘A family home.’
    â€˜Are you surprised?’
    â€˜Surprised because Caroline never seemed interested in homeliness. She always preferred the trappings of wealth.’
    Julia laughed and he looked at her narrowly.
    â€˜Care to share the joke?’
    â€˜The joke is,’ Julia said sardonically, ‘that Caroline hated the trappings of wealth.’
    A dull flush crept into his face. He felt like someone on the edge of some impossibly big secret, a secret that everyone knew about but had managed to keep from him. ‘According to you,’ he said coolly, and Julia raised her eyebrows.
    â€˜According to Caroline, actually. She loathed the army of interior designers who spent weeks swarming through your mansion. When she and Martin bought this house she chose everything herself. From the colours of the paint on the walls to the shade of every tie-back in every room. How on earth could you have lived with someone, been married to them, and not have realised that what they truly wanted was a cottage in the country, and if not the cottage in the country then at least an unpretentious family house in the city?’
    â€˜I don’t appreciate being patronised, Julia . You’ll have to be aware of that if this relationship of ours is to stay the course.’
    â€˜We don’t have a relationship, as I’ve already told you. And I’ll be as patronising as I like. You might be able to give orders to all your minions, but I’m afraid I’m not open to being ordered about.’
    Riccardo carefully placed his empty wine glass in front of him and proceeded to relax in the chair, hands behind his head. He looked at Julia with interest. Funny, but when she was still she gave the appearance of someone serene, something in the calm set of her features and the way she seemed to observe without comment would lead anyone to assume that she was as placid as a lake. But there were times when she spoke and her face was alive with animation. Like now. Like earlier on, when she had stormed into the kitchen, all fire and brimstone.
    His eyes dropped from their interested inspection of her face to the swell of her breasts, just visible under the sexless shirt. His interest became somewhat less dispassionate and he straightened up to conceal an inappropriate stirring in his loins.
    â€˜Is it any wonder your mother is tearing her hair out at the prospect of you finding a man?’ Riccardo drawled, pulling the tiger’s tail. He felt a sudden thrill of excitement when she stood up and came across to where he was sitting. She leaned towards him, quivering with aggression, her face pink with anger, hands firmly placed on her boyish hips.
    â€˜My mother is not tearing her hair out at the prospect of me finding a man ,’ Julia hissed. ‘And I utterly resent you voicing opinions on my private life , about which you know absolutely nothing ! You met me for the first time yesterday and don’t you dare think that you are somehow entitled to shoot your mouth off as though you know me. You don’t know me and you never will!’
    â€˜Never say never,’ Riccardo informed her silkily. He knew that he was pushing her to the limits of her patience. After what he had been through, that in itself should have been a source of immense satisfaction, but there was something