The Fall Of Jacob Del Garda (6 page)

"What's happened?"

Sophie bit down hard on her bottom lip to stop it trembling. Articulating her deepest fear closed her throat and she swallowed a burning rock the size of a tennis ball.

"She's found a lump in her armpit and she's having initial blood work results, plus having a scan and biopsy on Wednesday. She's very tired, unwell, night sweats..." she couldn't continue.

"We... I'm here now, Soph,” he said in a voice that was deep and rich and so sincere it made her stupid heart melt.

When he used the shortened version of her name he sounded like Lucifer tempting a woman to the dark side. And she could hear a little voice in her head whispering to her heart.
Be afraid, be very afraid.

And although she knew Tobin would be there for Gabriella, Sophie wasn't going to let him back into her life. No way. She'd barely survived the shock and the bitter aftermath of his betrayal the last time. For her, love was a one-time deal. Forever. Tobin Gillespie was nothing but a tom-cat who loved the thrill of the chase, the toying with quarry, before leaving his prey shell-shocked and broken.

She was staring so hard at his lips, one part of her stupid brain thinking that they were just made for kissing, that there was no mistaking it when those lips twitched. Sophie's eyes cut to his to find a lazy knowing look lighting his eyes, creating a flame of heated arousal low in her belly. He never missed a trick. Bastard.

"You're looking good, Legs," the Devil said.

And Sophie simply stared at him through narrowed eyes.

Get thee behind me, Satan.

In silence, they walked through the cabin and Tobin braced himself for what was to come.

He still couldn’t believe it.

At twenty-four, surely Gabriella was too young to have cancer?

The twins had been an integral part of his life for years. They were family, not bound by blood, but they were the only family he’d ever known.

Gabriella Dolman had been one of his first big successes in public relations and now his company spanned the globe. His relationship with her was close, never sexual, but in many ways much more intimate. They’d been best friends, until she’d pulled her disappearing act, and he’d be having a little chat with her about that. They’d relied on each other through good times and bad. Even his disastrous affair with Sophie hadn’t affected their friendship.

Gabriella had been devastated at the failure of his relationship with her sister, but she’d never taken sides or interfered. Of course, once she’d met Jacob, her relationship with Tobin had undergone a transition, which was only to be expected. Jacob was perfect for her.

But what really concerned him was the way she’d kept everything to herself for months, had even undergone surgery, before phoning him last week to ask him to negotiate contract terms, for her as the photographer, with Charles Monroe for his daughter’s engagement party.

This behaviour was so not like the Gabriella he knew.

The break-up with Jacob had floored him, too.

He’d heard about it through a journalist friend, and that had stung.

He was her agent for God’s sake, and her friend.

But when he’d heard her voice on the phone Tobin just couldn’t be angry with her. Not once had she asked him to forgive her. She'd said that she'd explain everything when she saw him.

Sophie was here, and now he knew the awful truth, he wouldn't expect anything less. Even though they lived in different parts of the world, the twins were close. Sophie had never been comfortable with her sister’s success. Not that she was jealous, but she’d loathed what she regarded as the shallow world of celebrity and the type of people, the predators and hangers-on, that inhabited that world. With Tobin Gillespie himself right up there as the worst possible example of the breed.

Sophie was the intellectual one. After their break-up, she’d returned to London to complete her masters, and had been snapped up by the World Health Organisation. And since he'd quietly kept tabs on her, he couldn't help the feeling of pride in her achievements. She’d had papers published in scientific journals. And was sponsored by a multi-national pharmaceutical company to do on-the-ground research into malaria. Things she’d never have done if she’d stayed with him.

He also knew she was in a serious relationship.

The realisation that she was ready to settle down with another man had been like a slice of a switch-blade as it opened up the old wound in his heart.

And the memory of how he'd lost her, the ache of it, uncoiled in Tobin's chest.

He’d arrived home one day and she’d gone.

Sophie had told Gabriella that she’d decided a,
‘Decadent, useless life.’
was not for her. Apparently,
‘It had been fun while it lasted. But it was time to return to the real world.’

He’d called her, written to her, then finally Tobin had swallowed his pride and gone to London to see her face-to-face.

He’d never forget how she’d made it clear their relationship was over and she’d moved on.

Her voice had been so cold, so hard, as she’d told him it was over.

And the woman who had spoken those words had been nothing like the Sophie he’d lived with for nine months.

The change in her had stunned him.

Hell, it still stunned him.

They’d met a couple of times since, and she always gave him the contemptuous ice-queen act. And he told himself there was no point in trying to work out, yet again, what had happened. Now was not the time to dwell on the past. Now was the time to support Gabriella.

However, Tobin chewed on his bottom lip as he unpacked, and wondered if he’d acted with too much haste in calling Jacob? At the time he didn’t have all the facts. The sting of guilt for what he’d done burned in his throat. He'd betrayed her trust. And now he was going against Gabriella’s explicit wish to deal with what life had thrown her in her own way.

But Jacob had the right to know.

The man had been left devastated by his fiancée's Houdini act. And Tobin empathised completely. He knew exactly how it felt to be kept in the dark.

Plus, whether she accepted it or not, Gabriella needed Jacob. Tobin guessed she’d been trying to protect the man, that was so like her, but she’d only hurt him more. The anxiety that curled uneasily in his stomach told him Gabriella may never forgive him for what she'd consider a betrayal of her trust.

Well, that was too bad, Tobin decided, because sometimes a man needed to do what was right.

In the magnificent open plan kitchen of The Dower House, tucked away in the grounds of Ludlow Hall, Bronte Ferranti used the back of her wrist to smooth ash blonde hair from her forehead.

Then she finished spooning macaroni cheese into small pots.

She'd use a couple for the twin's lunch tomorrow and freeze the rest. And couldn't help but smile when the baby lying deep in her belly gave a little flutter of movement. There were times she pinched herself that the life she was leading these days was real.

When she'd managed to become pregnant with the twins after a reckless few days in Rome with confirmed bachelor and playboy, Nico Ferranti, no way could she have looked three short years into the future to find herself blissfully married to the man, and the mother of his children. Who'd have thought Nico would have embraced fatherhood and marriage and enjoyed every moment of it? And Bronte didn't take a single second of it for granted. When a person had lost everything, she knew how to make the most of second chances.

Then she smiled wider as the man himself strolled into the vast kitchen living space and perched his very fine ass on a tall stool.

Bronte's brows rose.

He'd shaved and smelled wickedly sexy. Jet black hair was slicked back and still damp from the shower, and he looking stunning in a black tuxedo. His crisp white shirt had an emerald stud in each cuff. He'd bought them because, he said, they matched her eyes.

The big softy.

"What are you all dressed up for?" She gave him a cheeky grin. "Gotta hot date?" she teased, and offered him the last spoonful of macaroni cheese from the pan.

He leaned forward and opened his sinfully sexy mouth to accept her offering. Her husband was just like a big kid.

"Hmm, very good.
Si
, I have a hot date... with my wife." Then his dark eyes danced as her brow creased. "You have forgotten? Coco and Rafe will be offended."

Totally confused, her eyes searched his.

"But today's Thurs..." She blew out a breath. "Friday!" Her voice went too high.

Omigod.

How had she lost a day?

Her hair.

Her dress.

She needed to shower.

Laughing, Nico moved into her, started to unbutton her shirt as his mouth found hers and the usual jolt slid through her system.

"It is baby brain. Let me help you get ready," he said as he nibbled the delicate skin of her earlobe.

"You just want me naked," she gasped as his mouth followed the path of his clever fingers smoothing her breast.

"
Si
. I am doing my duty as your husband to get you naked as often as I can."

"You're insat..." Her breath caught as his fingertips whispered over a too sensitive nipple.

"Hmm, so fragile," he breathed against her lips. "I love the way your body responds to my touch when you are carrying my child." And he grinned as he unfastened her jeans, slipped them down over her hips.

God, he was so good at that. "We'll be late if you..."

Nico slid his hand between her bare legs, watched her head fall back on a low moan.

Yes, they would be late. But he didn't care. Their friends could wait.

She was amazing. His wife. The mother of his children, and miraculously carrying another. It was such a heady feeling to have it all. The small boy who lurked deep inside him, who had lived on streets reeking of the stench of human garbage, still wondered if this life he had now was real. He had lived in squalor, escaped into education, and eventually found freedom from the hell of his past. Through hard work, blood, sweat and tears he was now successful and powerful. Nico Ferranti had shaped a special place for himself in the world. He'd needed no one, and then Bronte had come into that world. Beautiful, brave, aristocratic and as straight as a broad lance. And she had redefined the way he saw his world again.

Only three years ago, he'd watched her walk barefoot in the sand toward him wearing a sweeping gown of ivory silk, a single flower in her hand. He'd never forget the look in those big emerald-coloured eyes that showed so much. He'd seen the love, the laughter, for him.

The moment they exchanged rings he knew she was his, and he was hers.

Now as he stroked her carefully over the peak of climax, he picked up the hand that wore his ring and kissed the finger. Her eyes stayed tightly shut. He studied the flushed cheekbones, the full trembling mouth, the silvery fall of her hair tied back from her face.

"I love you, Bronte."

Her cheeks burned again. She was so easily moved when it came to his declarations of love.

"You make me so happy, Nico." She opened her eyes. And he couldn't help but grin at the glazed look.

"I know," he said. "I will call Jacob and tell him we will be delayed."

Later that evening Nico stood in a dark corner of the ballroom of Ludlow Hall keeping a close eye on the waiting service.

And he was delighted to see his staff were professionally slick, inconspicuous, and doing a fantastic job of anticipating the needs of his guests.

The Monroe engagement party was in full swing.

Lord Raphael Cavendish was burning up the dance floor with his fiancée, Coco Monroe.

The way they were putting the dirty into dancing made Nico grin.

Coco's billionaire father, Charles Monroe, was holding court at a big circular table surrounded by his daughter's school friends, including Bronte. Another roar of hilarity rose from the table.

"They seem to be having fun," Jacob's deep voice muttered in his ear.

"
Si
, tonight is a happy night. After the way Coco and Rafe's visit to Ludlow Hall ended, I never thought I would see this day."

Nico’s eyes narrowed on the slight photographer who was sliding like a ghost through the guests. Holding a camera that looked as if it meant business, she moved fast, unobtrusively capturing key moments. Her hair was drawn back in a long strawberry blonde braid. She wore a black sleeveless shirt showcasing lean arms, and black capris, which hit just above her slim ankles. On her feet were lightweight running shoes in black leather. Two digital cameras were strapped across her back. And around her tiny waist were soft black leather packs.

Her satisfied grin as she caught the moment Rafael tipped Coco back over his arm and she got the shot, made Nico's lips twitch in appreciation. Gabriella Dolman knew what she was doing, he had to give her that.

He turned to Jacob.

The look on his face made Nico roll his teeth over his top lip. The man’s dark eyes tracked the photographer like a big black panther lazily surveying a fat juicy fawn. Tobin should have mentioned to him that Gabriella was Jacob’s ex-fiancée. By the look in his general manager’s eyes Nico saw there was unfinished business here. A lot of unfinished business.

Ah well, who was he to interfere in Jacob’s personal life?

"It is interesting that no one has recognised Gabriella," Nico drawled.

"I hardly recognise her myself.
Gracias
, for doing the meet and greet and settling her into the cabin. I will not forget it," Jacob growled deep in his chest, his Spanish accent more pronounced.

A sure sign of emotional turmoil.

Easy sympathy for his friend rose up in Nico's chest.

Poor bastard.

"
Prego
. Gabriella is delightful girl with a sweet nature. She is very beautiful."

"
Sí.
" Jacob's growl rumbled again. The jaw went tight.

Frowning at the tone Nico turned to him. "I do not want trouble," he said in a cool voice that held a warning.

But the Spaniard’s eyes narrowed into dark slits as they followed the slim photographer who was now shaking hands with Charles Monroe.

"No trouble. But there will be closure."

The ice in that deep voice tickled Nico’s gut.

And Nico Ferranti always trusted his gut.

"Alexander and Rosie return in a few days, Jacob. The exchange of ideas, the way the Ortiz group has worked with mine, has been an unparalleled success. I would hate for something to happen to Gabriella that might change that. I will not accept intimidation against a woman, any woman, in my hotel. Do I make myself clear?"

Jacob’s dark head swung around.

And Nico read the shock, the dismay, and he was very relieved to see it.

Perhaps he’d overreacted?

The Spaniard’s dark eyes stayed on his.

"I will take nothing that she is not more than willing to give. You have my word on that."

Gabriella was moving away.

Together, they watched her leave the party and head for the main staircase.

Jacob went to follow the girl.

But Nico stopped him by placing his hand on his arm.

"You are wound too tight, my friend. Do not do anything you might regret," Nico warned in a voice that would put a mafia Don to shame.

The big Spaniard simply nodded once and strode through the room and up the stairs.

Nico liked Jacob.

They’d worked well together.

However, as far as Nico was concerned, Jacob Del Garda took life far too seriously.

When he lightened up the guy was funny, and he was brilliant with Nico’s children, Luca and Sophia. A big plus was that Bronte liked Jacob, a lot. And Nico always trusted his wife’s instincts about a man.

His eyes turned to watch his wife laughing with her friends.

It wasn't often she got the chance to catch-up with her school pals.

But he thought she looked pale, a little... weary.

These days Bronte was too busy running
Sweet Sensations
. Running a magnificent home. Being a wonderful mother to their twins. And being a loving wife to him, as well as carrying their baby. So it was no wonder she looked a little bit tired.

Nico decided that he really should cut the night short and take her home.

But then again, perhaps he would hang around, just to make sure his general manager didn’t create a drama.