The Sicilian's Mistress by Lynne Graham Page B

single shard of grief. But then, she acknowledged dully, she wasn’t really feeling anything…
    Â 
    â€˜Where the hell is she?’ Gianni raked into the phone.
    â€˜We’ve found her. She’s OK. She’s sitting on a bench bythe lake in that park.’
    â€˜Madre di Dio!’ Gianni launched, paling at that information. ‘I want two of you within six feet of her until I get there!’
    After telling his driver to go as fast as the speed limit would allow, Gianni threw back a brandy to steady himself. He was furious with himself. He had known he had to go slowly with Milly. The psychologist had warned him to be careful. But from the first moment he had wildly overplayed his hand.
    He should have kept quiet about Benson and the partnership. He had planned to hold that in reserve for a few days. Yet he, who had the reputation for being a brilliant tactician with a superb sense of timing, had ploughed in like a bull in a china shop. The prospect of reaping his own just deserts didn’t bother him. But he went into a cold sweat at the threat of Milly reaping them for him…
    Milly knew she was being watched at the lake. The instant she recognised the dark-suited men trying not to draw attention to themselves and failing abysmally in their efforts to lurk behind winter-bare trees she almost smiled. Gianni’s employees. He must have had her followed. As long as they left her alone, it was almost comforting to think that somebody was looking out for her.
    That sound of brisk footsteps made her lift her head. Gianni was bearing down on her, his hard, bronzed features set in grim lines which detracted not one iota from his devastating good looks, she conceded absently. A light grey cashmere overcoat protected him from the chilly breeze ruffling his luxuriant black hair.
    â€˜This is a very dreary place.’ Both disapproval and impatience rang from every syllable. Gianni slung a deeply unappreciative glance over his surroundings. ‘ And it’s freezing. Why haven’t you got a coat on?’
    Even before he peeled off his overcoat and dropped it round her with the pronounced casualness of a male whodidn’t want to make a production out of doing it, Milly’s sense of isolation lessened. Gianni was exasperated and he was letting her see the fact.
    â€˜What the hell are you smiling at?’ Gianni demanded, thrown by that slight undeniable tilt to her formerly tense mouth.
    Almost drowning in the heavy, enveloping folds of his overcoat, and curiously soothed by the warm scent of him that still clung to the silk-lined garment, Milly gazed up at him with rueful blue eyes. ‘I don’t know.’
    â€˜Why did you leave your car behind at the engineering plant? Did it break down?’
    â€˜It’s not my car. The Jenningses bought it when they still thought I was their daughter. I guess I’m not in a very practical mood,’ Milly conceded.
    As she lifted her hand to prevent his overcoat lurching off her shoulder, Gianni muttered something raw in his own language and caught her fingers in his. Milly stiffened as he scrutinised the blue-black bruising encircling her wrist.
    â€˜You damned well didn’t do that to yourself!’ Gianni bit out wrathfully.
    Milly tugged her hand free and hurriedly curved it out of sight again.
    â€˜ Per meraviglia! The cowardly little bastard,’ he growled, well-nigh incredulous, it seemed, that anybody should have dared to lay a rough hand on her. ‘I’ll make him pay for hurting you!’
    â€˜No, you won’t,’ Milly whispered flatly. ‘Those bruises came cheap at the price of what they taught me. Maybe I’m wronging Edward, but I suspect he would have lashed out in temper again once we were married. He really did feel that he was marrying beneath himself. He could never have accepted me as I am.’
    Gianni glanced at her other hand, only now noticing the absence of the diamond