Passion's Mistress (19 page)

cool sage-green silk shift, wound her hair up into a casually contrived knot,

then went downstairs to check on dinner with Sylvana.

The portable television was on in the kitchen, and highlighted on the screen

was an area of dense bush- covered gorge and a hovering rescue helicopter.

The presenter's modulated voice was relaying information regarding a light

plane crash just south of the Central Coast. There were no survivors, and

names had not yet been released of the pilot and two passengers.

Carly went cold. It was as if her limbs were frozen, for she couldn't move,

and she gazed sightlessly at the flashing screen without comprehending a

single thing.

Then she began to shake, and she clutched her arms together in an effort to

contain her trembling limbs.

It couldn't be the plane carrying Stefano and Angelica—
could it
? A silent

agonised scream rose in her throat. Dear God
—no.

The thought of his strong body lying broken and burned in dense

undergrowth almost destroyed her. His image was a vivid entity, and she

saw his strongly etched features, the dark gleaming eyes, almost as if he

were in the same room.

The phone rang, but the sound barely registered, nor did Sylvana's voice as

she answered the call, until it seemed to change in tone and Carly realised

that Sylvana was attempting to gain her attention.

'Stefano rang to say he'll be home in twenty minutes.'

The words penetrated her brain, barely registering in those initial few

seconds, then she turned slowly, her eyes impossibly large. 'What did you

say?'

Sylvana repeated the message, then added in puzzlement, 'Are you all right?'

Carly inclined her head, then murmured something indistinguishable as her

stomach began to churn, and she only just made it upstairs to the main suite

before she was violently ill.

Afterwards she clenched her teeth, then she sluiced warm water over her

face in an effort to dispel the chilled feeling that seemed to invade her bones.

Attempting to repair the ravages with make-up moved her to despair, for she

looked incredibly vulnerable—
haunted,
she amended silently as she

examined her mirrored image with critical deliberation.

How could you
love
someone you professed to hate? Yet an inner voice

taunted that love and hate were intense emotions and closely entwined.

Legend had it that they were inseparable.

Stefano's arrival home was afforded a restrained greeting. If she'd listened to

her heart she would have flown into his arms and expressed a profound relief

that he was alive. Yet then he couldn't fail to be aware of her true feelings,

and that would never do.

Consequently dinner was strained, and Carly failed to do any justice to

Sylvana's beautifully prepared food, and throughout the meal she was

conscious of his veiled scrutiny, so much so that she felt close to screaming

with angry vexation.

'Did it bother you that it might have been my body lying lifeless in some

rocky gorge?'

The blood drained from her face at his drawled query, and she got to her feet,

wanting only to get away from his ill-disguised mockery.She hadn't moved

more than two paces when hard hands closed over her shoulders, and she

struggled in vain, hot, angry tears clouding her eyes as she fought to be free

of him.

One hand slid to hold her nape fast, tilting her head, and her lashes swept

down to form a protective veil, only to fly open as his mouth closed over

hers in a hard open-mouthed kiss that was impossibly, erotically demanding.

It seemed to go on forever, and when it was over she lifted shaking fingers to

her lips.

His eyes were dark with brooding savagery, their depths filled with latent

passion and an emotion she didn't even attempt to define. Carly glanced past

him and fixed her eyes on a distant wall in an attempt to regain her

composure. If she looked at him she knew she'd disgrace herself with stupid

ignominious tears.

'I rang through the instant we touched base,' he enlightened quietly. 'Our

helicopter pilot sighted the crash, radioed for help, then circled the area until

a rescue unit arrived.' He raised a hand and trailed gentle fingers along the

edge of her cheek.

She lifted her shoulders in a faint shrugging gesture. Somehow she had to

inject an element of normality, otherwise she was doomed. 'Would you like

some coffee?'

A forefinger probed the softness of her swollen lower lip, then conducted a

leisurely tracery of its outline. 'I'd
like you,'
Stefano drawled in mocking

tones, and watched the expressive play of emotions chase each other across

her mobile features.

'It's early,' she stalled, hating the way her body was reacting to the proximity

of his.

'Since when did time have anything to do with making love?' His head

lowered and he touched his mouth to the thudding pulse at the edge of her

neck, then traced a path to her temple. His lips pressed closed one eyelid,

then the other, and his hands shifted as he caught her up in his arms.

'What are you doing?' The cry was torn from her lips as he calmly strode

from the room, and headed for the stairs.

'Taking you to bed,' Stefano declared in a husky undertone, 'in an attempt to

remove the look of shadowed anguish lurking in your beautiful eyes.'

She struggled in helplessness against him, aware of an elemental quality that

was infinitely awesome. No one man deserved so much power, or quite such

a degree of latent sensuality.

'Must you be so—physical?' she protested as he entered their suite and

closed the door.

He lowered her down to stand within the circle of his arms, and her limbs

seemed weightless as he caught her close. Then he kissed her, slowly and

with such evocative mastery that she didn't have the energy to voice any

further protest as he carefully removed her clothes, then released the pins

holding her hair before beginning on his own.

'Tell me to stop,' he murmured seconds before his mouth closed over hers,

and the flame that burned deep within them flared into vibrant life,

consuming them both in a passionate storm that lasted far into the night.

The following days settled into a relatively normal routine. The nights were

something else as Carly fought a silent battle with herself and invariably

lost;

Their lovemaking scaled hitherto unreached heights, transcending mere

pleasure, and it was almost as if some inner song were demanding to be

heard, yet the music was indistinct, the words just beyond her reach.

Introspection became an increasing trap in which she found herself caught,

in the insidious recognition that
love
was inextricably interwoven with

physical desire—which inevitably led to the agonising question of Angelica,

and the degree of Stefano's personal involvement. Were they still on

intimate terms?
Had they ever been
? Dear God, could she have been wrong

all these years?

One day in particular she couldn't bear the tension any more, and she moved

restlessly through the house, unsure how to fill the few hours until it was

time to visit Ann-Marie.

Making a split-second decision, she changed clothes, stroked a clear gloss

over her lips, then caught up her sunglasses and bag, and made her way

down to the car, intent on spending a few more hours in the city looking for

suitable Christmas gifts. She might even do lunch.

Two hours later Carly wasn't sure shopping was sucb a good idea. It was hot,

there were crowds of people all intent on doing the same thing, and it took

ages to be served. All she'd achieved was a bottle of Sarah's favourite French

perfume, a book and an educational game for Ann-Marie, and nothing for

Stefano. What did you buy a man who had everything? she queried with

scepticism. Another silk tie? A silk shirt? Something as mundane as

aftershave
, when she didn't even recognise what brand he preferred?

A glance at her watch revealed that it was after one. Something to eat and a

cool drink would provide a welcome break, and ten minutes later she was

seated in a pleasant air-conditioned restaurant eating a succulent chicken

salad.

'Mind if I join you?'

Carly glanced up and endeavoured to contain her surprise. Coincidence was

a fine thing, and the chance of choosing the same restaurant as Angelica

Agnelli had to run at a thousand to one. 'If you must,' she responded with

bare civility. The restaurant
was
crowded, after all, and short of being rude

there wasn't much she could do except accept the situation with as much

grace as possible.

'Shopping?' Angelica queried, arching an elegantly shaped eyebrow as she

caught sight of the brightly designed bags.

'Yes.' As if an explanation was needed, she added, 'Christmas.'

'Stefano is caught up in a conference, so I came on ahead.' She allowed the

information to sink in, then added with deadly timing, 'This is a charmingly

secluded place, don't you agree?' For furtive assignations. The implication

was there for anyone but the most obtuse, but just in case there was any

doubt she added smoothly, 'You don't normally lunch here, do you?'

'No. I preferred to eat a packed lunch at my desk,' Carly explained with

considerable calm, and tempered the words with a seemingly sweet smile.

Angelica deliberately allowed her eyes to widen. 'Rather clever of you to

present Stefano with a child conveniently the right age to be his own.' Her

mouth curled fractionally. 'I almost advised him to insist on a DNA test.' She

lifted a hand and appeared to study her immaculately manicured nails. 'But

of course, I wouldn't presume to interfere in his...' She trailed off

deliberately, then added with barbed innuendo, 'Private affairs.'

'You've obviously changed your strategy,' Carly returned with considerable

fortitude, when inside she felt like screaming.

'Whatever do you mean?'

Carly had quite suddenly had enough. 'You had no such compunction about

interfering in his private life seven years ago. You deliberately set out to

destroy me. Like a fool, I ran.' Her eyes sparked gold-flecked fire that

caused the other woman's expression to narrow. 'I realise your association

with Stefano goes back a long time, but perhaps you should understand it

was
he
who did the chasing in our relationship, and he who insisted on a

reconciliation.' She drew in a deep breath, then released it slowly. 'Stefano

has had seven years to instigate divorce proceedings.' Her voice assumed a

quietly fierce intensity. 'I would suggest you ask yourself why he never did.'

'Brava
,' a deep voice drawled quietly from behind, and Carly closed her eyes

in vexation, only to open them again.

Stefano stood indolently at ease, his expression strangely watchful as he

took in Carly's pale features. All of her pent-up emotion was visible in the

expressive brilliance of her eyes, their gold-flecked depths ringed in black.

'Stefano.' Angelica's tone held a conciliatory purr, yet his eyes never moved

from Carly's features.

'If you'll excuse me?' She had to get out of here before she erupted with

volatile rage—with Angelica for being a bitch, and Stefano simply because

he was
here.

Rising to her feet, she collected her bag and assorted carriers. 'Enjoy your

lunch.'

His hand closed on her arm, bringing her to a halt, and she just looked at

him, then her lashes swept down in a bid to hide the pain that gnawed deep

inside.

'Please. Let me go.' Her voice was softly pitched, yet filled with aching

intensity, and there was nothing she could do to prevent the descent of his

mouth or the brief, hard open-mouthed kiss he bestowed.

Then he released her, and it took all her reserve of strength to walk calmly

from the restaurant.

By the time she reached the street her lips were quivering with pent-up

emotion, and she fumbled for her sunglasses, glad of their protective lenses

as they hid the well of tears that blurred her vision.

Tonight there would be no respite, for Sarah and James were coming to

dinner. To present anything approaching a normal facade would take every

ounce of acting ability, and Carly wished fervently for the day to be done,

and the night.

Only a matter of weeks ago everything had seemed so uncomplicated.

Ann-Marie and work had been the total focus of her life. Now she was in

turmoil, her emotions as wild and uncontrollable as a storm-tossed sea.

At the hospital, Ann-Marie's exuberant greeting, the loving hug and

beautiful smile acted to diffuse Carly's inner tension, and she listened to her