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Authors: Margaret Bingley

BOOK: Betrayal
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Finally he moved, his mouth traveling the length of her body until

his tongue moved expertly between her parted legs. Lisa moved up the bed, her hands trying to push him away, but he ignored her. He thought that once he'd begun she would relax, become moist and receptive so that he felt less like an unwelcome intruder into her body. Her eyes now shut, Lisa felt the rough dampness of his tongue as it began its invasion. Once she had enjoyed it when Toby did this for her. Once she had been totally abandoned to such pleasure. Once. A long time ago.

Then she felt a slight tingle beginning deep inside her, an increasing tightness, a sense of something building within her, and her husband—sensing it too—circled his tongue carefully around her clitoris before drawing the swollen bud into his mouth.

She had never been so wet for him before and to his dismay he realised that her arousal could prove his undoing. Just as Lisa's hips began to twitch of their own volition, he slid reluctantly up her body and entered her. Her eyes were widening in shock but then she realised that it was nearly over and closed them so that she couldn't see her husband's face when he finally spilled his seed into her. She couldn't bear to see the triumph in his eyes, nor face the knowledge that for a moment he had almost brought her to her first climax since…

With a groan, he covered her mouth with his and it was over. She was glad, she told herself fiercely. She didn't want physical passion any more. Especially not from this strange, decidedly business-like marriage where the list of advantages she could expect had never been intended to include sexual satisfaction.

She continued to lie there, her thoughts drifting away to the past and all the events that had led up to this moment. As Neal swung himself out of bed and began dressing again, she sighed softly. She was loved, protected and rich yet she sighed, and Neal—who understood everyone better than they understood themselves—committed it to memory.

At last Lisa sat up. 'I'm starving!' she laughed, shaking off the melancholy mood that had threatened moments before. 'If I go down and devour everything in sight, will they guess what we've been doing?'

'Possibly.'

'Does it matter?' It was a purely rhetorical question.

'Not really,' he said slowly, watching as she stepped into the tiny satin briefs that were the only kind it was possible for her to wear at present.

'Don't look, I know I'm huge!' she protested.

Her movements were languid, her skin pale yet glowing, and he could have taken her again if there'd been time but consoled himself with the thought that from now on she was his whenever he wanted. Lisa finished doing up her cream silk dress, cleverly designed by Carol to conceal her condition, and stared blindly out of the window, suddenly remembering her daughter. Poor little Jessica, trapped eternally in her nightmare world, surrounded by excellent nurses, lacking for nothing except acceptance. Acceptance and unlimited, undiscriminating love. At the moment. But soon, if fate was kind, all that would be changed. 'Lisa?'

She turned to face him, her eyes shadowed.

'It 's time to go down,' he said kindly. Together they walked along the heavily carpeted corridor, her arm linked through his. They paused in the doorway and immediately Lisa's eye was caught by Renato Bellini, standing alone at the bar.

She looked at his mass of wavy greying hair, the surprisingly sensitive mouth and wide-apart soft brown eyes that might have weakened his face were it not for the heavy lids that added to the overall impression of an intelligent and determined sensualist. She felt a terrible desire to weep.

He murmured a greeting as they approached, taking her hand, raising it to his lips before brushing his tongue against the sensitive skin. Blushing, she withdrew it. Fortunately Neal hadn't noticed and the two men began conversing in rapid Italian.

Suddenly weary, Lisa sat on a stool and glanced around the room. She saw her two eldest step-daughters standing talking to Bishop, and gave a shudder. There was danger there. Her eyes moved on. So many men and women. Laughing; talking of nothing; flirting; quarreling—they filled the air with the sound of their voices. And Toby! Unbelievably, she noticed him, standing with a new wife but watching her steadily, with an almost desperate message in his eyes that she couldn't begin to understand.

Suddenly Bellini spoke directly to her, his expression unfathomable. Neal laughed and started to lead her away from the bar. The Italian repeated his remark and despite the pressure of her husband's hand, Lisa turned back to him. 'I'm afraid I don't speak Italian.' She hoped she sounded sufficiently remote .

He smiled, but not pleasantly, his eyes glittering. 'I wished you a son.'

She laughed nervously. 'Thank you. I wish for one as well.'

An elderly woman began speaking to Neal and Renato moved surprisingly quickly to her side. 'Should it be a girl, I wish you luck,' he continued, the smile never wavering, his eyes holding hers. 'A girl would after all make everything a very expensive mistake, and your husband cannot afford more mistakes.'

'Stop it!' she hissed. 'You were the one who told me I was doing the right thing.'

'Maybe I made a mistake,' he murmured, and she shivered. 'Darling, it's time to cut the cake,' said Neal, unaware of the small interlude that had just taken place. She went smiling to his side, hoping that it would soon be over and they could leave the crowded room that was already making her feel queasy and faint. Neal, noticing her pallor, made sure that they left as soon as was acceptable. Until the child was born, he intended to take very good care of her.

Chapter Nineteen

'How did the wedding go?' asked Gemma Kingston. Renato Bellini shrugged elegantly. 'Well enough. He's married and he believes that he has an heir on the way. He was naturally at his most charming.'

She slid naked from the bed and knelt down in front of her lover, deftly releasing him from his clothing and closing her small, skilful mouth round his rapidly hardening organ.

'She is unusual—his wife,' he added, seemingly oblivious of her dexterity. Gemma swirled her tongue round the sensitive ridge at the top and his hands reached down and caught hold of her auburn hair. 'Very beautiful, but not what I would call particularly sophisticated. She intrigues me.'

Gemma wished he'd stop talking. She felt rather ridiculous. Like a professional masseuse or worse. Yet this was one of the few times when she could normally count on having his full attention. She moved her mouth more rapidly, applying suction. Renato caught his breath, closed his eyes and gave himself over to the pleasure.

When he'd finished he glanced down into the adoring eyes of his latest conquest and raised an eyebrow, silently querying such selfless behaviour. 'I think,' he told her warmly, 'that I would very much like to find out what she is like in bed!'

It was in this way that Gemma Kingston discovered, as countless other women had discovered before her, that for Renato Bellini she barely existed except to give him pleasure.

'Now she's finally made it, I hope she's satisfied!' said Louise spitefully.

Ruth shook her head. 'Don't be stupid. She's only just begun.' 'What else can she do? Thanks to her, Mother's dead, you and I are off to boarding school in Paris, and Father no longer listens to anyone, not even Bishop. Isn't that true, Bishop?'

Bishop's grey eyes glinted but his expression was bland. 'I've only ever advised your father.'

'You're the one person he's always taken notice of, except her.'

Ruth frowned. She found her sister's attempts at ingratiating herself with a man so patently disinterested as Bishop quite grotesque. It was strange that so many young men fell in love with Louise yet it was remote, emotionless Bishop whom she wanted.

'You don't care, Ruth!' shouted Louise. 'I think you actually like Lisa.'

That was true but she was saved from replying by the arrival of Rebekah. Small, unwanted Rebekah who'd loathed her mother, hated her sisters, worshiped her father and now feared Bishop without knowing why. Bishop—who guessed why—watched her constantly, terrified that she might bring about his downfall. 'Enjoy the wedding?' he asked sardonically.

'What's a honeymoon?' she demanded, having discovered that countering one question with another was the best way out of awkward moments.

'A period of time spent in the land of milk and honey!' 'Where's that?'

'Anywhere you choose. Egypt; Greece; Italy; even America, if your taste is so inclined.' Louise gave a gurgle of laughter and he wondered if he could ever bring himself to marry her, however advantageous such a marriage would be. He tried to picture her at his cottage in Norfolk, tearful and pleading as Annabelle had been last night. She'd probably try and laugh even then, he thought coldly.

She was pathetically eager to please. Not like her step-mother. Lisa didn't seem to care whether she pleased or not. He still had difficulty in believing she was now the second Mrs Gueras, despite having been there himself and watched the marriage ceremony.

'Have you ever been on a honeymoon, Bishop?' persisted Rebekah. 'No.'

'Is that because no one's ever wanted to marry you?' 'Yes.'

'Louise will, won't you, Lou?' she jeered.

'Bugger off , you horrid toad!' snapped Louise. Rebekah ran out of the room, well pleased with what she'd said. She hated Louise almost as much as she hated Bishop and knew that her shot about marriage had gone home.

'She didn't look all that special to me!' commented Toby Walker's second wife. 'She's very thin—apart from the obvious bulge, that is!'

'She was always slim.'

'I said thin. Neal Gueras is rather old for her.' 'She's thirty years younger than him.'

'Didn't you mind her leaving you for a geriatric? Or did your perpetual virility wear her out?'

'She went off me, all right? End of subject.'

'What very poor taste she must have. Imagine trading you in for such an old model. Mind you, he is disgustingly rich!' Toby nodded, remembering very well that it hadn't been like that at all, and wondering if he'd ever manage to lose his permanent burden of guilt.

On the day that Lisa and Neal returned to Beckett Lodge from their honeymoon on the beautiful, tiny Caribbean island of Aruba, Louise took to her bed with a cough, Ruth went out to look at a neighbour's horses and Rebekah locked herself in the schoolroom and refused to come out. Feeling thoroughly rested and extremely content, Lisa entered her new home in excellent spirits. Within two hours she knew that for everyone's sake the girls must leave earlier than had been planned.

Neal, similarly relaxed and elated, had no patience with them. Lisa suggested allowing them a couple more days to settle down but he refused. Louise and Ruth were to go to their uncle in Dover while Rebekah's nanny was sacked.

'She simply needs to mix more with children her own age,' explained Lisa, worried that Rebekah too might be banished if she didn't speak up in her defense. 'I'll look at local private schools.'

'Very well, but any more trouble from her and she's going away. I will not have you upset.'

That night, in the privacy of their king-size bed he reached for her yet again as he had done every night of their honeymoon. Lisa understood he was trying to prove to himself that he could give her as much satisfaction as she gave him but wished he wouldn't try so hard. Now that the baby was larger lovemaking was awkward, and the more her husband tried the more she tensed up.

When it was over he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. 'I don't understand it,' he complained. 'I've never had this trouble with other women.'

'You know why it is, and I honestly don't mind. I enjoy our love-making. I don't feel frustrated or deprived, so can't you just accept that?'

'I regard it as a personal insult. I am your husband now. Surely it's about time you started to relax and take a more active part? I'm not asking you to swing from chandeliers, just make a little bit of effort.'

'I think junior is taking too active a part for my liking!'

Neal put an arm round her. 'I suppose that is a bit off-putting for you. Let's hope things pick up once he's born.'

Lisa was disconcerted by the speed with which he was willing to vocalise his discontent. After all, he'd known what she was like in bed before and sworn it didn't matter. Apparently that wasn't true. She only hoped this didn't apply to everything else he'd said. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered. 'I'm going to try and be the best wife in the world for you.'

'So I should hope!' he joked, turning over to go to sleep. 'After all, that's why I chose you.'

When Lisa went down to breakfast next morning, the two older girls' cases were in the hall. They themselves were sitting silently round the long mahogany dining-table, their plates of kedgeree virtually untouched.

'What's your uncle like, Ruth?' Lisa asked.

'Like Daddy only more interested in us. We'll probably have quite a good time, although they haven't got their own horses.'

'Who cares about bloody horses!' snapped Louise, glaring sullenly at her stepmother. 'It's not an animal I'm going to miss.'

'Yes it is, it's Bishop!' teased Ruth.

'You can shut up too. What's it like, Lisa, coming home and turning your stepchildren straight out? Does it make you feel good? I 'd have thought our going to boarding school in Paris next term was early enough to have the place to yourself, but apparently not. To be fair, you were just as quick to get rid of your own brat. What's wrong with her anyway, she looks weird!'

'She's autistic, and as soon as this baby's born I'm having her brought back here.'

'Only if it's a boy.'

'How do you know that?'

'Bishop told me. He said we were lucky to be going away. Apparently your daughter's utterly revolting. She and Rebekah should get on well together.'

'Shut up, Lou,' remonstrated Ruth. 'It isn't kind to talk about Lisa's daughter like that.'

'It isn't very kind to send us away from home either.'

'Daddy did that. You know full well nothing happens unless he wants it.'

Lisa pushed aside her scrambled eggs, wishing that she was back in her cottage. Although Jessica had been noisy and tiring, she'd been totally without malice. The hatred emanating from Louise made her feel physically sick.

'There's the car!' shouted Ruth, spilling her coffee all over the damask tablecloth. 'Come on, you know what Steve's like about being kept waiting.'

'Tough, he's only a servant. Not that I want to hang around here,' Louise added pointedly. Neither girl said goodbye before they left.

When a pale and subdued Rebekah slid into her place a little later, Lisa hardly noticed. She was wondering if the girls had been right and she should have stood up for them more, but they were Neal's children and she was afraid to interfere too much in case he started interfering in Jessica's upbringing. Life, she realised, was going to be a tricky balancing act for a time.

She didn't see Neal until mid-morning, and even then he was preoccupied. Murmuring something about work and needing to spend time with Bishop, he drank a cup of coffee with her and then went off to the annexe, leaving her to familiarise herself with the, house and servants.

By the end of the day she knew that the household ran impeccably. Wakefield, the cook and the housekeeper had their set routine and were loath to make changes. She'd cast an eye over the accounts and found them to be in order, and studied the menus for the next week, including a dinner party on the Friday evening.

'I'm allergic to venison,' she told Cook, pointing to the planned dinner menu.

'What would you prefer as an alternative?' 'Perhaps pheasant?'

'Certainly. The first Mrs Gueras left everything to me but if you wish to discuss the meals… ?'

'I definitely do wish to discuss them. Every morning when I'm here, and at least a week in advance when we have guests coming. The first Mrs Gueras wasn't a fit woman. I am, and I intend to have a great deal more say in the running of things than she did.'

Cook didn't show any sign of resentment, but Lisa suspected she was merely too well-trained to show it. 'About the annexe,' she continued. 'There seems to be a tremendous amount of food and drink sent there. Why's that?'

'Your husband often has people staying there. I take my instructions from him.'

'I thought it was only Bishop and security men who stayed there?' 'I really couldn't say, madam.'

'I'll discuss it with my husband. One more thing,' she added. 'I'd prefer coffee to tea on my morning tray.'

'I'll instruct Ann.'

Lisa then wandered round the grounds and noticed Rebekah swinging listlessly on a rope ladder, near the start of the parkland. 'Why don't you show me round the park?' she called, and was pleased to see how her step-daughter's face brightened.

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