Part 8 (1/2)

'Oh, but-' Grace caught her lower lip between her teeth.

'Ought you to be taking shop-bought medication?'

'Why not?'

'Well-' Grace hesitated. 'Because of-because of your condition.'

'Oh, I see.' Julia bent forward, resting her head in her 85 hands. 'Well, I've got to take something. This pain is driv ing me mad.'

Grace sighed. 'I suppose paracetamol can't do any harm.'

'No, that's right.' Julia lifted her head again in evident relief.

'Do you have some?'

Grace nodded and, going into the bedroom, she found the tape of tablets in her make-up case. Taking them back to her friend, she asked, 'Do you want some water?'

'I suppose so.' Julia was squeezing two of the tablets out of their foil packet. 'G.o.d, I'll never drink red wine again.'

Grace came back with a gla.s.s of water and stared at her. 'How much did you drink?'

'I don't know.' Julia was offhand now. 'Too much.' She shrugged. 'I suppose that's bad for the baby, too.'

'You know it is.'

'Yes, well, I didn't want Matt wondering why I'd sud denly become a teetotaller, did I?' exclaimed Julia defi antly. 'G.o.d, I feel sick!'

'I'm not surprised.'

Grace was finding it difficult to feel any sympathy for her, and her hands balled into fists when Julia suddenly jumped to her feet and sprinted into the bathroom. That she was being sick was evident from the painful retching sounds she was making, and, pus.h.i.+ng her own feelings of impatience aside, Grace walked through the bedroom and into the bathroom to offer her help.

Julia was now slumped beside the toilet basin, and Grace couldn't help being moved by her obvious misery. 'You need to go back to bed,' she said gently, wetting one of the hand towels and using it to wipe Julia's damp forehead. 'Come on. You'll feel better soon. My sisters always used to say that mornings were the worst.'

Julia allowed herself to be led back to her own bedroom and helped into bed. She was only wearing a silk robe over her nightdress so it was a simple matter to help her remove it before she sprawled on the sheets.

'You won't tell Matt, will you?' she demanded weakly as Grace covered her with the sheet. 'As far as he's con cerned, it's just a migraine, okay? I'll be all right by this afternoon.'

Grace pressed her lips together. 'Can I get you anything else?

Some dry toast, perhaps?'

'No. Nothing.' Julia rolled her head from side to side. 'Just keep everyone else out of my way, right? I'm sorry about this, but I can a.s.sure you it's not my choice.'

'I know.' Grace decided there was no point in being irritated.

'I'll make your excuses.'

'Thanks.'

Julia nodded, but her eyes were closing, and, realising there was nothing more she could do here, Grace went out and closed the door behind her.

In her own apartments again, she spent a few minutes tidying the bathroom. The last thing she wanted was for the maid to think she had been sick, but she could feel the perspiration already beading between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with the extra exertion.

Opening a window, she misted the sour smell would soon dissipate, and then checked her appear ance in the full-length mirror.

Wisps of hair were stuck to her forehead in places, so she used a towel to dry the silvery strands. The friction made them curl against her cheeks instead, and she stared at her reflection with some frustration. With her sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks, she looked little like the serious- minded woman she was used to seeing when she looked in a mirror. But the heat made the idea of wearing trousers totally unfeasible, and she decided that the shorts and black tee s.h.i.+rt would have to do.

Despite her inhibitions, she found her way to the dining room they had used the night before without too much ef fort. It was easier to get her bearings in daylight, and through the long arched windows that opened onto a sunlit verandah she could see the whole sweep of the valley, and hear the distinctive tolling of a church bell. It was a familiar sound, yet unfamiliar in these surroundings, and once again Grace was struck by the natural beauty of the place.

The dining room was deserted, however, and, glancing at her watch, she saw that it was barely eight o'clock. Somehow, she'd thought it was much later, and she won dered if she should have waited in her apartments until her breakfast was brought to her.

Frowning, she wandered out onto the loggia, and then came up short when she saw Matteo di Falco seated at the table where they'd had drinks the night before, reading a newspaper. Now the table was spread with a crisp white cloth, and the jug of orange juice, basket of croissants and half-empty pot of coffee bore witness to the fact that their host did not breakfast in bed. The mingled smells of coffee and warm rolls were mouth-watering, but Grace had the distinct feeling that she should not be here.

She glanced behind her, estimating her chances of leav ing again without him noticing her, and then started when he said, 'Don't go.' He folded his newspaper, laid it on the table beside him, and got to his feet. 'Join me.'

'Oh, no-' After what had just happened upstairs, Grace was in no mood to be civil to the man who was responsible for it all.

'I-er-I was just looking around, that's all.'

Matteo hooked his thumbs into the back of his belt and strolled towards her. He was wearing a black tee s.h.i.+rt, too, this morning, and his arms were brown and muscular be neath the short sleeves. Black jeans hugged his powerful thighs, and Grace despised herself for the s.h.i.+ver of aware ness that feathered her spine at his approach.

'Have you had breakfast?' he asked, arching his dark brows, and Grace expelled a resigned breath.

'No-'

'I thought not.'

'Well, you would, wouldn't you?' she muttered, pus.h.i.+ng past him and going to stand by the floor-length windows that overlooked the sunlit gardens. 'You probably know everything that goes on in the villa,' she added, barely au dibly.

'Not everything,' he amended mildly, coming to join her.

'What's the matter? What did I do wrong now?'

Grace snorted. 'Do you have to ask?'

'What?' He was annoyingly tolerant. 'I didn't embarra.s.s you last night, did I?' He blew on her ear. 'I thought I was amazingly restrained in the circ.u.mstances.'

Grace jerked her neck away. '1 don't want to be here.'

'No, you told me.'. His voice lost a little of its patience. That's why I suggest you let me take you somewhere else.'

'Somewhere else?' Grace cast him a disbelieving look. 'Are you crazy?'

'Perhaps.' He stroked a finger along the curve of her chin. 'I'm not suggesting we run away together. I just thought it would be easier for both of us if we were not constantly in the company of other people.'

Grace gaped at him. 'I wouldn't go anywhere with you,' she cried scornfully. 'You have to be out of your mind if you think I'd do that to Julia. Even if I wanted to,' she appended hastily.

'Which I don't.'

Matteo swore then, and although it wasn't a word she'd heard before its meaning was evident. 'Will you stop using Julia's name like some kind of amulet between us?' he demanded. 'Surely you didn't think I encouraged her last night? The way she behaved-that was for your benefit. I have never, at any time, given Julia any reason to think that our a.s.sociation was anything more than a casual-'