everything she can to achieve just that. And, since the

whole purpose of this marriage is to meet those terms,

it is necessary that we both conform to society’s expectations.

If it will make you feel any better, I shall

undertake to donate an equal amount to charity as you

spend on clothes."

"that’s bribery," Jodie told him, but Lorenzo was

already walking away from her, leaving her no choice

but to follow him.

To her surprise the gallery opened out into a second,

even longer single-storey rectangular space, this

one housing more modern paintings and sculptures.

"Like my ancestors, I substitute my own lack of

artistic skill by taking an interest in and supporting

those who do have it," Lorenzo was explaining dryly.

But Jodie wasn’t fully listening to him. Instead her

attention had been caught by the large wall space in

the middle of the gallery, which was filled with what

seemed to be unsophisticated, childlike drawings.

"Ah, my most valued commissions," Lorenzo told

her quietly.

Jodie looked at him uncertainly. "They look like

children’s drawings."

"That is exactly what they are. These drawings

were all produced by children who have lost limbs—

sometimes but not always a dominant hand — as victims

of a variety of wars. These drawings were done

after they had been fitted with their new limbs, as part

of their ongoing therapy. The very special paintings

in the middle of the wall are painted with those new

limbs."

Jodie discovered that emotional tears had suddenly

rushed to fill her eyes. Blinking them away, she told

Lorenzo huskily, "No wonder you value them so

much."

He turned away. "I shall introduce you to Assunta,

who is my housekeeper here, and she will show you

over the rest of the apartment while I make some

telephone calls."

In other words, he was bored with her company

and wanted to be free of it. Well, that certainly did

not bother her, Jodie assured herself ten minutes later,

as she was handed over into the care of a shrewd-

eyed middle-aged woman who subjected her to open

scrutiny and then inclined her head. In excellent

English, she said calmly, "If you will come this way,

please…"

Half an hour later Jodie had seen every room in

the apartment, which covered not one but two floors

of the Palazzo and included an astonishingly luxuriant

roof garden.

It was plain that Lorenzo favoured modern design

and furnishings over antiques, but she had to admit

that the strong lines of the furniture complemented

the large rooms with their high ceilings.

Her bedroom was across the corridor from

Lorenzo’s, and had its own dressing room and bathroom.

To Jodie’s relief, Assunta unbent enough to

explain that she had worked in London for a time at

a restaurant owned by a cousin of her father, which

was where she had learned her English. Now a

widow, who prized her independence, she added that

working for Lorenzo had up until now suited her very

nicely.

"I shan’t be wanting to interfere in the way you

manage things," Jodie assured her, picking up her cue.

Indeed, she would not! She doubted that Lorenzo

would thank her if she were to be the cause of his

housekeeper handing in her notice.

"It is my cousin Theresa who is housekeeper at the

Duce’s villa near Sienna. It is a very good place for

bambini there, with much space and fresh air."

Another hint? Jodie wondered as she stood beneath

the welcome spray of the shower, mentally revising

their conversation. Well, she certainly wouldn’t be

providing Lorenzo with his bambini. The shower continued

to pound her skin with its needle-sharp spray

whilst Jodie stood perfectly still and let images of

small dark haired children stampede over her defences

and trample them into nothing.

There was a sharp rap on her bathroom door and

she heard Lorenzo calling out briskly, "It is time for

us to leave."

"I’m nearly ready," she fibbed, and then gave a

small gasp as he took her at her word and walked into

the bathroom.

Was it possible to be caught at any worse disadvantage

than naked and dripping wet? Jodie wondered,

pink-cheeked, as Lorenzo folded his arms and

leaned against the now closed door.

"That is nearly ready?" he demanded pithily.

"It won’t take me long to dry myself and get

dressed…" And it would take her even less time if he

wasn’t standing between her and the thick warm towels

on the towel rail on the other side of the bathroom.

Why didn’t he leave? Did he really expect her to walk

past him stark naked while he subjected her to more

of that steely scrutiny with which he was already

openly studying her legs? Out of habit she turned to

one side, trying to tuck her injured leg out of sight,

more anxious to conceal that from him than either her

breasts or the neat soft triangle of damp curls covering

her sex.

"Do you want to have a closer look at my leg?" she

demanded tartly. "I know the scars aren’t a pretty

sight, but Don’t worry — I can cover them up."

Lorenzo took his time about lifting his gaze from

her legs to her face, and when he eventually did so

her heart thumped heavily against her ribs.

"Perhaps I should have you painted like this," he

told her softly. "A fair-haired Northern water nymph,

with legs long enough to encourage a man to imagine

how it would feel to have them wrapped around him.

Or maybe spread on a silk-covered bed, with them

wantonly open, begging for the touch of your lover’s

lips against their tender flesh. There are sexual positions

that require… No! Do not look at me with that

hungry virgin look in your eyes," he told her sharply.

"Otherwise I might be tempted to satisfy that hunger

for you."

"You were the one who came in here," Jodie reminded

him. "I didn’t invite you."

"Liar. You invite me every time you look at me,

with those virginal half-glances that say how curious

you are to know what it is like to lie with a man."

"That is not true!" Jodie said hotly. "If I wanted to

have sex with a man, which I do not, then you are

the last man I would choose."

She realised immediately that she had gone too

far — Lorenzo was so arrogantly male that there was

no way he would allow her to get away with that kind

of challenge to his masculinity. But it was too late.

He was striding towards her, ignoring both her

shocked cry of protest and the effect her wet body

was having on his clothes as he hauled her out of the

shower and picked her up in his arms.

"Put me down," Jodi demanded, but Lorenzo wasn’t

listening to her. Instead he was carrying her through

her bedroom and towards the bed, where he put her

down against the pale green silk coverlet and held her

there.

He knelt over her and demanded softly, "So, what

is it you want to know most? How it feels to have a

man caress you here, like this?" Still holding her

shoulder with his left hand, he trailed the fingers of

his right hand down the whole length of her body to

her knee, and then slowly stroked up the inside of her

clenched thigh.

Helplessly, Jodie closed her eyes as her flesh absorbed

the intimacy of his touch and then reacted with

a series of sensual shudders that ricocheted relentlessly

through her.

"Ah, so you like that? And this?" His lips were