Passion's Mistress (8 page)

registered his physical presence she felt akin to a disembodied spectator.

Except that this was no nightmarish dream. Stefano Alessi represented

reality, and she issued a greeting, aware that he had exchanged the formal

business suit worn a few hours earlier for casual dark trousers and an

open-necked shirt.

Carly barely hid a gasp of surprise as he reached out and threaded his fingers

through hers, tightening them imperceptibly as she attempted to pull away

from his grasp.

She registered a silent protest by digging the tips of her nails into hard bone

and sinew. Not that it did any good, for he didn't even blink, and she watched

in silence as his mouth curved into a warm smile.

Supremely conscious of Ann-Marie's intent gaze, she managed to return it,

and she glimpsed the faint narrowing of his eyes, the silent warning evident

an instant before they swept down to encompass his daughter.

'Hello, Ann-Marie.'

He made no attempt to touch her, and Ann-Marie looked at him solemnly for

several long seconds, her eyes round and unwavering before they shifted to

her mother, then back again to the man at her side.

'Hello,' she answered politely.

Carly felt as if her heart would tear in two, and she held her breath,

supremely conscious of the man and the child, one so much a part of the

other, both aware of their connection, yet each unsure quite how to proceed.

In a strange way, it allowed her to see a different side of the man, a hint of

vulnerability evident that she doubted anyone else had ever witnessed. It

surprised her, and made her wonder for one very brief minute how different

things might have been if she'd stayed in the marriage, and if he would have

given up Angelica Agnelli and assumed the role of devoted father.

A knife twisted deep within her, and the pain became intense at the thought

of Stefano taking delight in all the changing facets of her pregnancy, the

miracle of the birth itself, and the shared joy of their new-born child.

She'd denied him that, had felt justified in doing so, and if it hadn't been for

Ann-Marie's illness she doubted that she'd ever have allowed him to become

aware of his daughter's existence.

His fingers tightened around her own, almost as if he could read her

thoughts, and she summoned the effort to move into the lounge, indicating

one of two chairs.

'Please, take a seat.' Her voice sounded strange, not her own at all, and she

extricated her hand from his, aware that it was only because he allowed her

to do so.

'I hope you like chicken,' Stefano said, holding out a large carrier bag

suitably emblazoned with an exclusive delicatessen logo. 'There's a variety

of salads, some fresh bread rolls, cheese. And a bottle of wine.'

'Thank you,' Carly acknowledged with contrived warmth, and preceded him

into the kitchen.

They ate at six, and Carly was aware of an inner tension that almost totally

destroyed her appetite. There was no lull in conversation, and although

Ann-Marie displayed initial reservation it wasn't long before she was

chatting happily about school, her friends, Sarah, and how much she'd love

to own a dog.

'I have a dog,' Stefano revealed, and Carly stifled a mental groan in the

knowledge that he had just won a massive slice of Ann-Marie's interest, for

the 'no animals allowed' rule enforced by the apartment managers ensured

that tenants couldn't have pets. Ann-Marie could barely hide her excitement.

'What sort of dog?'

Carly waited with bated breath, and had her worst fears confirmed with

Stefano enlightened her. 'A Dobermann pinscher.'

'Mummy said that one day when we live in a house we can have a poodle.'

Stefano cast Carly a musing glance at her choice before turning his attention

back to his daughter. 'In that case, we'll have to see about getting you one.'

It was bribery, pure and simple, and Carly hated him for it.

By the time Ann-Marie was settled happily in bed and asleep, it was clear

that Stefano had succeeded in winning a place in his daughter's affections.

'I have to congratulate you,' Carly said quietly as she handed him some

freshly made coffee. Then she crossed the small lounge and selected a chair

as far distant from his as possible.

His gaze was startlingly level. 'On developing an empathy with my

daughter?'

She met his eyes and held their gaze with all the force of her maternal

instincts. 'If you do anything to hurt her—ever,' she emphasised softly, 'I'll

kill you.'

He didn't speak for several long seconds, and Carly felt close to screaming

point. 'You wanted for her to hate me?'

'No. No,' she repeated shakily, knowing that it wasn't true.

'Yet you decry the speed with which she has gifted me a measure of her

affection,' Stefano pursued.

She refused to admit it, and stirred her coffee instead, wanting only for the

evening to end so that she could be free of his disturbing presence.

'Gaining her trust won't be achieved overnight,' he discounted drily, adding,

'And love has to be earned.'

'Why agree to gift her a poodle?'

'I said
we
would have to see about getting her one,' he responded evenly, and

she instantly flared, 'A Dobermann and a poodle both on the same property?'

'Prince is a well-trained guard dog who is exceptionally obedient. I doubt

there will be a problem.'

'And it matters little to you that I might have a problem moving into your

home?'

His eyes were hard, with no hint of any softness. 'I'm sure you'll manage to

overcome it.'

Suddenly she'd had enough, and she replaced her cup down on the

coffee-table, then rose to her feet. 'I'm tired and I'd like you to leave.'

He followed her movements with a lithe indolence, then covered the

distance to the front door. 'Be packed and ready at midday. I'll collect you.'

She wanted to hit him, and she lifted her hand, only to have it caught in a

merciless grip.

'Don't even think about it,' Stefano warned silkily. 'This time I won't be so

generous.'

There could be little doubt about the veiled threat, and she looked at him in

helpless anger, wanting so much to strike out in temper, yet forced to contain

it out of consideration to a sleeping child who, should she wake and

perchance witness such a scene, would be both puzzled and frightened, and

unable to comprehend the cause.

Stefano released her hand, then he opened the door and moved out into the

foyer without so much as a backward glance.

CARLY experienced a sense of acute nervousness as she caught sight of

Stefano's imposing double-storeyed French-chateau-style home. Situated in

the exclusive suburb of Clontarf and constructed of grey stone, it sat well

back from the road in beautifully kept grounds.

A spreading jacaranda tree in full bloom with its carpet of lilac flowers

provided a fitting backdrop to an assortment of precision-clipped shrubs,

and symmetrical borders filled with a variety of colourful flowers that were

predominantly red, pink, white and yellow.

Dear lord, what had she
done
? The enormity of it all settled like a

tremendous weight on her slim shoulders. In the space of fifteen hours she

had packed, cleaned the apartment, notified the leasing agent, and confided

in Sarah.
And
tossed and turned for the short time she'd permitted herself to

sleep. Now she had to face reality.

The car drew to a halt adjacent to the main entrance, and no sooner had

Stefano slid out from behind the wheel than a short, well-built man of

middle years emerged from the house to retrieve several suitcases from the

capacious boot.

'Joe Bardini,' Stefano told them as Carly and Ann-Marie slid from the car.

'Joe and his wife Sylvana look after the house and grounds.'The man's smile

was warm, and his voice when he spoke held the barest trace of an Italian

accent. 'Sylvana is in the kitchen preparing lunch. I will tell her you have

arrived.'

Some of Carly's tension transmitted itself to her daughter, for Ann-Marie's

fingers tightened measurably within her own as Stefano led the way indoors.

The foyer was spacious, with cream-streaked marble tiles and delicate

archways either side of a magnificent double staircase leading to the upper

floor. The focal point was a beautiful crystal chandelier, spectacular in

design by day. Carly could only wonder at its luminescence by night.

'Would you prefer to explore the house before or after lunch?'

'Can we now?' Ann-Marie begged before Carly had a chance to utter so

much as a word, and Stefano cast his daughter a musing glance.

'Why not? Shall we begin upstairs?'

'Yes, please.'

They ascended one side of the curving staircase, and on reaching the upper

floor he directed them left to two guest rooms and a delightful bedroom suite

with a connecting bathroom.

'Is tljis where I'm going to sleep?' Ann-Marie asked as she looked at the

softly toned bedcovers.

'Do you like it?' Stefano asked gently, and she nodded.

'It's very pretty. Can Sarah come visit sometimes?'

'Of course,' he answered solemnly.

'Sarah lives in the apartment next door,' Ann- Marie explained carefully.

'She is our very best friend.'

To the right of the central staircase Stefano opened a door leading into the

main suite, and Carly's eyes flew to two queensize beds separated by a

double pedestal. A spacious
en suite
was visible, and there was an adjoining

sitting-room complete with soft leather chairs, a television console, and

escritoire.

'We'll use this suite,' Stefano indicated, and Carly refrained from comment,

choosing instead to shoot him a telling glance as she preceded him to the

head of the stairs.

If he thought she'd share the same bedroom with him, he had another think

coming!

Once downstairs he led them into a formal lounge containing items of

delicate antique furniture, deep- seated sofas and single chairs, employing a

visually pleasing mix of cream, beige and soft sage-green. Oil-paintings

graced the walls, a sparkling crystal chandelier hung suspended from a

beautiful filigree-plastered ceiling, and wide floor-to-ceiling sliding glass

doors opened out on to a covered terrace.

Even at a glance it was possible to see the blue- tiled swimming-pool beyond

the terrace, and catch a glimpse of the magnificent view out over the

harbour.

The formal dining-room was equally impressive, and his study held an

awesome arsenal of high-tech equipment as well as a large mahogany desk,

and wall-to-wall bookshelves.

The southern wing comprised an informal family room, dming-room and an

enormous kitchen any chef would kill for.

A pleasantly plump middle-aged woman turned as they entered, and her

kindly face creased into a warm welcoming smile as Stefano effected

introductions.

'Lunch will be ready in ten minutes,' Sylvana declared.

'Is Prince outside? Can I see him?' Ann-Marie asked, and she made no

objection when Stefano reached forward and caught hold of her hand.

'Come and be properly introduced.'

The dog was huge, and looked incredibly fearsome, yet beneath Stefano's

guidance he became a docile lamb, his eyes large and soulful, his

whimpering enthusiasm as close to canine communication as it was possible

to get.

'After lunch we'll take him for a walk round the grounds, and you can watch

him go through his paces.'

Lunch was served in the informal dining-room, and Ann-Marie did justice to

the tender roast chicken with accompanying vegetables, as well as the

delicious creme caramel dessert.

The excellent glass of white wine Carly sipped through lunch helped soothe

her fractured nerves, and
afterwards she walked quietly with Ann-Marie as

Stefano led the Dobermann through a series of commands.

It was very warm outdoors, and Carly glimpsed a few tell-tale signs of her

daughter's tiredness. The symptoms
of her condition could descend with

little warning, and it was essential that her reserves of strength were not

overtaxed.

'Shall we go upstairs?' Carly suggested, catching hold of Ann-Marie's hand.

'You can lie down while I unpack your clothes.'

Stefano shot her a quick glance, his expression pensive as Ann-Marie

stumbled slightly.

'Can I see Prince again before dinner?'

'Of course. You can watch Joe feed him.'

Carly lifted her into her arms, and Ann-Marie nestled her head into the curve

of her mother's shoulder, her small hands lifting to link together around

Carly's neck.

'Let me take her,' Stefano bade quietly, and Carly made to demure, barely