Passion's Mistress (15 page)

and he'd still manage to project a devastating raw virility that had little to do

with the physical look of him.

If his relationship with Angelica Agnelli continued to extend beyond that of

friends, then anything Carly said would only fuel her own anger and lead

inevitably to another confrontation.

Besides, she was twenty-seven, and no longer the naive, trusting young girl

who had believed in one true love. Reality was the knowledge that love

didn't conquer all, nor did it always last forever.

'How was Ann-Marie this afternoon?'

Carly met his dark gaze with equanimity. 'Improving,' she informed him

steadily. 'The specialist is confident she'll make a full recovery.'

His features relaxed into an expression of immense relief. '
Grazie a Dio,'
he

breathed with immense gratitude.

'Obviously it would have been better if I'd phoned with the news.'

One eyebrow slanted above a pair of eyes that had become strangely

watchful. 'Why
obviously?'

'Business, pleasure and personal affairs are an incompatible mix,' she hinted

with unaccustomed cynicism, and saw his eyes narrow.

'Angelica--'

'Don't even consider proffering the rather hackneyed-explanation that she's

merely an associate.' She lifted her chin, and her eyes were remarkably clear

as they held his. 'I've heard it all before.'

'Angelica is a valued family friend,' he continued with hard inflexibility, and

the gold flecks in her eyes flared with brilliant topaz as she refused to be

intimidated in any way.

' Valued
is a very tame description, Stefano,' Carly responded, wondering

what devilish imp was pushing her in a direction she'd sworn not to tread.

'Perhaps you'd care to offer a more lucid alternative,' he drawled with

dangerous silkiness, and she was powerless to prevent the surge of anger

coursing through her body.

'She wants you,' she declared with quiet conviction. 'She always has. For a

while I stood in her way. Now that I'm back...' She trailed off deliberately,

then effected a slight shrug. 'If she can hurt me emotionally, she will.' The

need to be free of him was paramount, and she turned to leave, only to have

a detaining hand catch hold of her arm and pull her back to face him.

Any escape could only be temporary. It was there in his eyes, the latent

anger a silent threat should she continue to thwart him.

'Let me go.' The words left her throat as his head lowered, and she turned

slightly so that his lips grazed her cheek. Then she cried out as he slid his

fingers through the thickness of her hair, and his mouth captured hers in a

kiss that was nothing less than a total possession of her senses.

A muffled groan of entreaty choked in her throat as he brought her even

closer against his hard, muscular frame, and when he finally lifted his head

she stood quite still, bearing his silent scrutiny until every nerve stretched to

its furthest limit.

His hands slid with seductive slowness to her waist, then cradled her

ribcage, the pads of each thumb beginning an evocative circle over the

hardening peaks of her breasts in a movement that was intensely erotic.

She had to stop him
now
, before she lost the will to move away. 'Sex in the

office, Stefano? Whatever will Renate think?' she taunted softly. 'Or maybe

she's accustomed to her boss's... discreet diversions?'

His eyes narrowed, and a muscle hardened at the edge of his jaw. 'Watch

your foolish tongue.'

Carly laughed, a soft mocking sound that was the antithesis of anything

related to humour. Gathering courage, she added with unaccustomed

cynicism, 'I imagine many women shared your table as well as your bed in

the last seven years.'

His eyes stilled for a second, then assumed a brooding mockery. 'You want

me to supply a list,
cara?'

For one heart-stopping moment she looked stricken. The thought of that

long, superbly muscled body giving even one other woman the sort of sexual

pleasure he gave her was sickening. To consider there had probably been

several
made her feel positively ill. Suddenly she'd had enough, and was in

dire need of some breathing space—preferably as far away from her

inimical husband as possible.

If she didn't leave soon, the ache behind her eyes would result in silent futile

tears, and without a further word she turned and left the room.

Within minutes of reaching home she crossed to the phone and dialled

Sarah's number. At the sound of her friend's voice she clutched hold of the

receiver and sank down into a nearby chair for a long conversation that

encompassed an exchange of news as well as providing a link to normality.

'You must bring James to dinner,' Carly insisted as Sarah exclaimed at the

time. 'I'll check with Stefano and give you a call.'

'Lovely,' the other girl declared with enthusiasm. 'Give Ann-Marie a big hug

from me, and tell her I'll visit tomorrow.'

Dinner was a strained meal, for Carly found it difficult to contribute much

by way of conversation that didn't come out sounding horribly banal. In the

end, she simply gave up, and pushed her food around the plate before

discarding her cutlery to sip iced water from her glass.

Stefano, damn him, didn't appear a whit disturbed, and he did justice to the

dishes Sylvana provided before finishing with fresh grapes, biscuits and

cheese.

Carly sat in silence during the drive to hospital, unwilling to offer so much

as a word in case it ended in a slanging match—or worse.

There was such a wealth of resentment at having witnessed the touching

little departure scene between Angelica and Stefano that afternoon—and

unabating anger. It almost eclipsed the joy of witnessing Ann-Marie's

pleasure in their visit, and the expressive smile when Stefano presented her

with yet another gift.

'I'm getting spoilt,' Ann-Marie concluded, hugging the beautifully dressed

doll close to her small chest, and her eyes gleamed when her father leaned

down to brush his lips against her cheek. 'Thank you, Daddy.'

The words held such poignancy that Carly had to blink fast against the threat

of tears.

'My pleasure,
piccina.'

'What's a
piccina?'

'A special endearment for a special little girl,' he responded gently.

It was almost eight when the Mercedes pulled into the driveway leading to

Stefano's elegant home, and once indoors Carly made her way through to the

kitchen.

'Coffee?' It was a perfunctory query that incurred his narrowed gaze.

'Please.'

Her movements were automatic as she filled the percolator, selected a fresh

filter, then spooned in a blend of ground coffee-beans.

'Would you prefer yours here, or in the lounge?'

'The lounge.'

Damn, that meant she'd have to share it with him, yet if she opted out he'd

only be amused, and she refused to give him the satisfaction.

Five minutes later she placed cups and saucers, sugar and milk on to a tray

and carried it through to the informal lounge. Placing his within easy reach,

she selected a chair several feet distant from where he was seated.

'We've been invited out to dinner tomorrow evening,' Stefano informed her

with indolent ease as he spooned in sugar and stirred the thick black liquid in

his cup. 'Charles Winslow will be there with Kathy-Lee.' His eyes seared

hers, darkly analytical in a manner that raised all her fine body hairs in a

gesture of self-defence.

'And Georgeanne?' She arched a brow in deliberate query. 'I'm not sure I

want to go.' The thought of standing at his side for several hours playing a

part didn't figure very high in her order of preferred entertainment.

'Most of the men present will have their wives or partners in attendance,' he

drawled, and she said sweetly, 'Why not invite Angelica? I'm sure she'd

delight in the opportunity. Then you could have two women vying for your

attention.'

One eyebrow slanted in quizzical mockery, although anything approaching

humour was sadly lacking in his expression. 'I'll ignore that remark.'

A crazy imp prompted her to query, 'Good heavens,
why
? It's nothing less

than the truth.'

His expression didn't alter. 'Watch your unwary tongue,
mi moglie
,' he

cautioned in a deadly soft voice.

'Don't threaten me,' she responded swiftly, feeling the deep-rooted anger

begin to surge to the surface.

'Warn,' he amended with quiet emphasis.

'There's a difference?'

His eyes lanced hers, silent and deadly in their intent. 'Give it up, Carly.'

'And concede defeat?'

'If you want to fight,' Stefano drawled with dangerous silkiness, 'I'm willing

to oblige.' He paused deliberately, then continued, 'I doubt you'll enjoy the

consequences.'

A shaft of exquisite pain arrowed through her body, although defiance was

responsible for the angry tilt of her chin as she berated, 'I seem to remember

you preferred your women warm and willing.'

'What makes you think you won't be,
cara?'
Stefano drawled, his expression

veiled as pain clouded her beautiful eyes, rendering her features hauntingly

vulnerable for a few heart-stopping seconds before the mask slipped into

place.

She was treading dangerous waters, yet she was too incensed to desist. 'Did

it never occur to you that my taste in men may have changed?'

'Have there been that many?' His voice sounded like finely tempered steel

grazing satin, and she had the incredible desire to shock.

'Oh
—several!'

Something leapt in the depth of his eyes, and she wanted to cry out a denial,

yet the words remained locked in her throat.

What on earth was the matter with her in taunting him? Playing any kind of

game with a man of Stefano's calibre was akin to prodding a sleeping jungle

animal.

'I had a life during the past seven years, Stefano,' she flung, more angry than

she'd care to admit. 'Didn't you?'

'Do you really want to pursue this topic?'

'Why?'

'Because it will have only one ending,' he warned with incredible silkiness,

although his eyes were hard and obdurate, and there could be no doubt as to

his meaning.

'Go to hell,' she whispered, hating him more at that precise moment than

she'd thought it possible to hate anyone.

The need to get away from him was paramount, and, uncaring of his

reaction, she turned and walked out of the room, out of the house, moving

with a quick measured pace along the driveway to the electronically locked

steel gates.

For the first time she damned Stefano's security measures as logic and sanity

temporarily vanished in the face of a fierce, unbating anger.

The house, the grounds, were like an impenetrable fortress, necessary in

today's age among the exceedingly wealthy in a bid to protect themselves,

their family and their possessions.

She could return indoors, collect her keys and the necessary remote module

to release the main gates, but even in anger sufficient common sense exerted

itself to warn silently against walking the suburban streets alone after dark.

And if she took her car, where would she go? It was too late for visiting, and

Sarah, if she wasn't working, would probably be out with James.

Carly turned back towards the house and slowly retraced her steps. The air

was warm, with the faintest breeze teasing a few stray tendrils of her hair,

and she lifted her face slightly, looking deep into the indigo sky with its

nebulous moon and sprinkling of stars.

Drawing in a deep breath, she released it slowly. A strange restlessness

besieged her, and she felt the need for some form of exercise to help expel

her pent-up emotions.

There was a pool in the rear of the grounds, and she instinctively took the

path that skirted the southern side of the house.

Reflected light from several electric lamps strategically placed in the

adjacent rockery garden lent the pool a shimmering translucence, and,

without giving too much thought to her actions, Carly stripped off her outer

clothes and executed a neat dive into the pool's clear depths. Within seconds

she was cleaving clean strokes through the cool water, silently counting as

she completed each length. After twenty-five she rested for a few minutes,

clearing the excess water from her face, her hair.

'Had enough?'

Carly lifted her head and looked at the tall figure standing close to the pool's

edge. In the subdued light he loomed large, his height and breadth magnified

by reflected shadows.

'Is there some reason why I shouldn't take advantage of the pool?'

'None whatsoever,' Stefano declared mockingly. 'Shall I help you out?' At

his drawled query she raised a hand, then when he grasped it she tugged