Unguarded Moment (14 page)

Bianca gave a little silvery laugh. 'I don't quite follow. Who is Paola?'

Carlo shrugged. 'A cousin of mine,
cam
. And here she is.'

In its way it was an even better entrance because it appeared to be totally unstudied. Paola wore white, a slip of a dress reaching to her ankles, which fastened on one shoulder in a broad mother-of-pearl strap, leaving the other bare. Alix thought that apart from her shoes, the dress was almost certainly all that Paola was wearing.

She glanced at Bianca to see how she was taking the new arrival and saw something she could not name flicker for a moment in her face before the smiling mask descended again.

She said gaily, 'A cousin, did you say, darling? How enchanting! How fortunate we both are in having such attractive relations.'

'I think so too,' Carlo said blandly. 'And now shall we go in to dinner?'

It was in several ways a memorable meal. The food was delicious—ice-cold melon and Parma ham, followed by veal with mushrooms and herbs cooked in a delicate white wine sauce, but Alix found her appetite had deserted her.

She was seated next to Paola at the big circular table in the dining room. Across the expanse of dark, shining wood she could see Liam, leaning back in his chair, his fingers idly playing with the stem of his wine glass, his face shadowed and enigmatic. Bianca was in the chair next to him, talking and laughing with an almost feverish vivacity, although Alix noticed she wasn't eating much either. She was too busy being the life and soul of a singularly lifeless and soulless party.

There were undercurrents around that table which Alix couldn't even begin to fathom, but she guessed somehow that they were centred in the girl who sat beside her, barely speaking, as golden and serene as a Botticelli goddess.

One explanation could be that Bianca now knew that Paola was involved with Liam, and was jealous, but Alix could not believe it. Bianca never allowed such a mundane emotion to stand in her way. She brooked no interference from other women in her relationships, and her methods were ruthless.

Paola was a beautiful and sexy girl, but there was a basic docility about her, Alix thought, which did not augur well for her in any battles of will with Bianca over Liam or anything else.

She wanted to ask Leon what he thought, but although he was sitting next to her, any private conversation was out of the question. He was still drinking, she realised, and looking more morose with every minute that passed. By the time dinner was finished, she doubted whether he would be capable of telling her anything coherent.

Only Carlo seemed to be behaving normally, eating and drinking with gusto, roaring with laughter at Bianca's anecdotes, and capping them with some of his own, spicing the conversation with scandalous snippets about well-known figures in the film world.

A marvellous performance, Alix thought detachedly. If he hadn't been a famous director, he could have made a good living as an actor. Because she had no doubt it was all an act. He wasn't an insensitive man. He must be attuned to the inner tensions and vibrations around the table,, but he was choosing to ignore, them, perhaps in the hope that they would go away.

Some hope, Alix reflected bitterly. Almost involuntarily she found she was looking at Liam. It was safe to do so. He was mostly watching Bianca, although his gaze sometimes flickered to Paola.

Judging his options? she surmised painfully. She knew she ought to hate him—despise him for being a womaniser, for not being able to resist the temptation of practising his all too potent sexuality on any female who strayed within his orbit. He doesn't need me, she thought miserably, he probably doesn't even want me as a person. It's the chase and the conquest that matters to him. He challenged me to look him in the face and say I didn't want him. That's all it was to him, a challenger He wanted me to admit that he'd won.

At least she'd been spared that, but the victory was his all the same, and he knew it.

Even as the thought formed in her mind, Liam turned his head, and across the table their gazes caught and held. Alix felt as if she was turned to stone. She wanted to look away, to look down, to look anywhere except into the watchful dark eyes of the man opposite her. But it was useless. She could not tear herself away, and deep within her that hungry little spiral of excitement was beginning slowly to uncoil until she felt as if every nerve ending in her body was being stretched to screaming point.

She was beginning dazedly to think she would have to scream to break the spell he was winding round her, when Giovanni came in to clear the plates and bring in the dessert.

Alix leaned back in her chair, almost sagging with relief. If had been a prosaic diversion, but effective.

She became aware that Paola was speaking to her.

'Don't you want your food? It's very good.' Her eyes sharpened as she studied Alix. 'Are you feeling well? You look flushed.'

'That has to be an improvement,' Alix muttered. 'Before dinner I looked pale and wan.' She saw Paola's surprised look and made a placatory gesture with her hand. 'I'm sorry, I'm talking nonsense. You're right— the food is delicious. I adore black cherries, especially hot.'

Paola went on watching her, clearly puzzled, as Alix spooned some of the cherries into her mouth, washing them past the tightness in her throat with surreptitious sips of wine.

At last she said, 'Carlo tells me that you are related to Miss Layton as well as her secretary. That you know her well. What is she like?'

On the surface it seemed an artless enough question, but the fact that it was being asked at all made Alix wary, and she stiffened slightly.

Paola laughed. '
Dio
, but Liam was right! He said that she had two dragons to guard her, and that of the two of them you were the most formidable.'

'Oh, did he? Alix murmured, putting down her spoon. Then I'm sure he will also have had something to say about Bianca.'

Paola gave a slight shrug. 'You mean—because he is writing a book about her? But that has hardly begun. He is not pleased with the progress he is making. He thinks she is a mass of contradictions.'

'She's that all right,' Alix made herself speak lightly. 'But if that's all he's managed to find out, it won't make much of a book.'

'Oh, he will find more,' Paola said positively. 'He is a very persistent man—very determined, don't you think?'

'I hardly know him,' said Alix on a little snap which she instantly regretted. She tried to cover it up with a question of her own. 'How did you meet him?'

Paola's eyes slid away. 'We were introduced—by a mutual friend.'

Consider myself snubbed, Alix thought wryly. Aloud she said, 'You speak very good English.'

'
Grazie
,' Paola said demurely, looking amused. 'For most of my life, I have spoken little else. My mother and father lived in the U.S.A. and later in Britain, and I went to school there.'

She mentioned the name of the school, and Alix was duly impressed. She began to suspect that there might be more to Paola than the considerable amount which met the eye, and that the apparent docility could be just good manners instead.

Life with Bianca made one forget that such things existed, Alix thought drily.

'I am glad that you are here, Alix,' Paola was saying, as she finished the last of her cherries. 'I'd expected to be quite bored, but we can swim together—and play tennis.'

Bored—with Liam around? Alix wondered.

Aloud, she said, 'I'm not very good at tennis, I'm afraid.'

Paola laughed. 'Nor am I. But it was better than playing netball—and lacrosse,' she added with a slight grimace.

Alix laughed too. 'In my case, hockey,' she confessed. They smiled at each other, tentatively but genuinely, and Alix was left with the feeling that perhaps the dinner hadn't been a total disaster after all.

They went back to the
salotto
for coffee. The room was full of lamplight, and the long cream curtains had been drawn across the windows to deter the moths and other flying creatures. The curtains stirred faintly in the night breeze, revealing that the terrace door still stood open.

Maria Battista handed round tiny cups full of the rich dark brew and Giovanni served brandy and liqueurs. Paola went over to a large antique chest that stood against one wall and lifted the lid. After a second or two, music, dreamy and sensuous, came drifting out of concealed speakers. Paola began to dance to it, her body fluid and graceful under the clinging dress, her eyes half closed, and a little secret smile playing around her lips.

A minute or two later Carlo invited Bianca -to dance with him and they joined Paola. And the next thing, Alix supposed, would be that Liam would join in too, and that was something she would prefer not to watch.

She swallowed the remainder of her coffee, and picking up her brandy goblet, slipped through the curtains and out on to the terrace. There was no moon, but the stars looked like diamonds sprinkled across velvet. The air was warm and full of scents and silence. She leaned on the stone balustrade, letting the peace and beauty of the evening soothe some of the ache inside her.

From just behind her, Liam said, 'If you're considering wandering farther afield tonight, then think again. Carlo takes all this security very seriously, and he has men with dogs patrolling the grounds.'

She started. The sound of his voice was the first hint she had had of his approach.

Without turning, she said, 'Thank you for the warning.'

'It isn't the only one I have for you.' He paused. 'I wouldn't become too friendly with Paola Minozza, if I were you.'

There was a brief hectic silence, then she said chokingly, 'Why? Because you might find it inconvenient.'

His brows lifted slightly. 'I'm not sure exactly how I feature in all this, but let it pass. I'm only warning you, because you could be heading for a major clash with Bianca. But perhaps that's what you want.'

'It's not what I want.' She got that little flare of temper back under control again, but he had come to lean on the balustrade beside her, his sleeve almost brushing hers, and her senses were jumping again at his proximity. 'And Bianca doesn't interfere in my friendships.'

'I had the definite impression that she interfered at almost every level in your life,' he said coolly. 'When I saw you his afternoon, I thought you'd begun to fight back—begun to live as a woman in your own right, instead of a cipher in her shadow, but you soon disabused me of that notion. But believe me, Alix, if you start aligning yourself with Paola, then even dressing in a sack and putting a bag over your head won't save you from Bianca's wrath.'

She said, 'I don't understand one word of all this. Why should she object? Carlo wants us to be friends, after all…'

'Carlo isn't only a great director, he also has an inbuilt sense of mischief which sometimes gets the better of him.' Liam's voice was crisp. 'If you haven't worked out for yourself what's going on, then I suggest you ask Leon Farnaby. By the look of him, realisation has just dawned, and he's trying to come to terms with it through a haze of alcohol.'

That was something she could not deny. Leon's behaviour had been worrying her all evening.

'I'll go and find him,' she began, half turning, but Liam's hand descended on her arm.

'It will have to wait until tomorrow. He's gone to bed,' he said with dry amusement, and Alix guessed that Leon had probably been dismissed like a naughty child.

'I'd better go in anyway,' she muttered, trying un-availingly to free herself from his grasp.

'Why?' he enquired mockingly. 'Surely you can't be cold?'

'Hardly,' she said shortly, glad that the darkness masked the sudden colour which had invaded her face at this deliberately ambiguous question.

'Then what are you afraid of?' he asked softly.

'Do I have to be afraid?' she said tautly. 'Is it so impossible that I might just not want to be alone with you?'

'I'd say possible, but unlikely.' He still sounded amused. 'Stop fluttering, secretary bird. You'll only hurt yourself.'

But I could cope with that, she thought Self-inflicted wounds would heal, but the hurt you could do me might make me bleed slowly for the rest of my life.

She took a breath. 'You warned me just now about making Bianca angry,' she said levelly. 'Perhaps I ought to extend the same warning to you.'

'It isn't necessary,' he said. 'She doesn't own me. No one does.'

'I'm sure of that,' she said. 'Nevertheless she does have—let's say, a short-term lease, and she'll expect her money's worth.'

The silence between them almost crackled, then he said tightly, 'You little bitch.'

The anger in his voice made her flinch, but at least he was no longer holding her. She was free—yet she had never felt more captive. She was filled with an overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms, to feel the hard pressure of his body against hers, and the movement of his mouth against her skin.

But the time for that was past, she thought. There was a barrier between them now which she had built quite deliberately of her own free will. She had flicked Liam on the raw, and even if she went into his arms, he wouldn't want her there. Not now. Not ever again, she thought.

There was an ache in her throat, and a stinging behind her eyelids. She was close to tears, she recognised with panic. Her only wish was to sink down on the flags of the terrace, lean her forehead against the cold stone of the balustrade and weep her heartache away. But that was impossible.

Moving like an automaton, she moved back across the terrace to the lighted windows of the
salotto
. Inside the room, the music still played, and now Carlo was dancing with Paola. Alix's eyes flickered apprehensively to where Bianca was standing, her hand clasped so rigidly round the glass she was holding that her knuckles showed white.

She was watching Paola, watching her dance round Carlo like some fragile white moth in her flimsy dress, and because she thought she was unobserved there was a look in her eyes which made Alix feel she had intruded upon a nightmare.

She felt herself recoil and gasped as she collided with Liam, who had entered the room just behind her.