Desire Has No Mercy (19 page)

'Miss Julia,' Lucie looked really shocked, 'how can you even think such a thing?'

'Easily. While reading the letter he laughed like a man with memories.' Julia turned and hastened into the bathroom. She wanted the shower pounding her skin, numbing her nerve ends, removing the feel of his lips and the touch of his hands. She flung off her clothes and stepped into the shower stall, taking with her a sponge and a large bar of Pears soap. She soaped and sponged all over, but there was one place she couldn't reach, and that was her mind.

It mocked her and unrolled each scene on its mini-screen, adding sound and broken scraps of dialogue.

Julia gave a choked little cry and pressed her hands to her ears. Rome had said such things to others and she couldn't bear it. Such endearments should be private, between two people, not shared with another woman who wrote to remind him of the occasions when he had held her in his arms. Had it been on a beach, a sky above filled with trembling stars, the sea in constant motion upon the rocks, moments torn out of time when the world stopped and heaven took its place?

Suddenly the shower was turned off and Lucie was wrapping a large towel around Julia and urging her out of the bathroom. She was rubbed dry like a child and a nightdress was slipped over her head. 'I'm putting you to bed, miss. You've had a little too much sun and sea air and you're overwrought. I'll ask Mr Rome if he'd like his supper up here with you.'

'I don't want him,' Julia said stubbornly. 'I was perfectly all right until he came home. He's the one who gets me all churned up a-and scared about everything. He unsettles me—you know he does.'

Lucie stroked a brush through Julia's damp hair. 'You fight him, miss, when it's much easier to give in.'

'But I didn't—' Julia bit her lip. 'We didn't exactly fight.'

'Then what's upsetting you?'

'That he—those other women. Like so much candy!'

'How do you know? How can you be sure? Why not give him the benefit of the doubt?'

'Scented letters!' Julia looked scornful. 'She's someone he knows—intimately.'

'An old flame, I daresay.' The long gliding brush strokes were making Julia's hair glisten in the lamplight. 'The
signore
is a mighty good-looking man and there would have been—flames.'

'They're still burning, Lucie. They aren't forgotten ashes.'

'If you didn't care for him, my lovey, you wouldn't be so churned up.'

'It's a matter of pride.'

'Pooh, pride.' Lucie waved it away with the brush. 'When you get to my age you realise there are more important things in life than letting your pride be a killjoy. Mr Rome wouldn't have come home feeling so lively if he'd been playing around with candy. D'you think I was born yesterday, miss?'

Julia flushed and twisted the rings on her hand. 'He's bigger than me, and with the baby hampering me I could hardly run away.'

'Yes, he's a fine figure of a man,' Lucie smiled. 'There, your hair looks very nice against that peach colour, and you've got quite a bit of colour in your cheeks. I'll go and fetch the
signore
.'

'You'll do no such thing,' Julia protested. 'I told you I didn't want him—let him stay downstairs and drool over his scented letter.'

'You know what he should do, miss.' Lucie smoothed the bedcovers. 'He should give your bottom a few spanks.'

'That would be good for the precious son and heir,' Julia scoffed.

'He's tucked away too nice and cosy to take harm from Mr Rome, whether he spanks you or canoodles with you. What you refuse to admit is that the
signore
has in his bones the marrow of kindness. I'm twice your age and I've worked as a maid since I was a bit of a girl, and you get to learn about people when you're in and out of their bedrooms. It isn't always the born rich who are the ladies and gentlemen. More often than not they're wilful and arrogant and about as generous as Scrooge. I've found out from Cosenza how good Mr Rome has been to the people hereabouts. Everyone likes him, and if you aren't careful, Miss Julia, he'll find someone else to console him—he's a big fine man and he has the needs of his nature, so you be warned in time.'

'And what is my wife being warned about?' Rome had strolled into the bedroom from the adjoining
salone
, and since coming up from the beach he had obviously taken a sauna and was clad in a white jacket, wine silk shirt and tie, and black trousers perfectly tailored to his lean hips and long legs. 'And what is more,
cara
, what are you doing in bed?'

'Lucie says I'm overwrought.' Julia felt his eyes skim the neckline of her nightdress and the contrast of her hair against the silk. Tiny nerves trembled under her skin, reacting to his vital darkness and boldly sculpted lips… those lips which only a short while ago had been so intimate with her.

A frown drew his brows together and he glanced at Lucie. 'There isn't anything amiss? I demand to know.'

Lucie smiled at him and shook her head. 'Miss Julia gets herself a little worked up—she was always a nervy one as a child and would sometimes cry over silly things and yet go to the dentist or put up with a bad cold as good as gold. I thought it would be nice,
signore
, if the two of you had supper up here.'

Still he frowned and gave Julia a searching look. 'That stitch in your side went away, didn't it?'

Julia gazed up at him and suddenly she knew a way to hurt him… to keep him from touching her ever again. 'I do have a pain,' she said. 'I've had it ever since we came up from the beach.'

Rome caught his breath and Julia was almost startled to see how ashen he went around the nostrils, while the cleft seemed to sharpen at the centre of his chin. 'A pain?' he exclaimed, coming at once to the bedside, 'What is it— what's causing it?'

Her eyes met his and she saw from the lock in them that each moment of their encounter on the beach was going through his mind. He had made love to her, therefore he had caused the pain which she claimed to be feeling!

'I must send for the doctor,' he said anxiously. 'We can't take any chances.'

Lucie had come to the bedside and was giving Julia a suspicious look. 'You said nothing to me about a pain, Miss Julia. Are you sure you have one?'

'Of course I'm sure.' Julia was looking at Rome and enjoying his discomfiture. 'As my husband says, we can't take any chances. He'd be so upset if I lost the baby—'

'Let me feel your forehead.' Lucie leaned over her and pressed a hand to her brow. 'Umm, you do feel a little feverish. Whereabouts is the pain?'

Julia indicated her pelvis, and as she did so she saw Rome's hands clench at his sides.

'I want the doctor to come and take a look at you, Julia. Is it very severe?'

'Bearable,' she said quietly. For the first time she had him at a disadvantage and she told herself she liked the feeling. Even so she turned her gaze away from his strained face. 'There's no need to send for the doctor, I expect it will go away. Perhaps I need something to eat.'

'Miss,' Lucie took her by the chin and looked into her eyes, 'has there been any bleeding?'

Julia heard Rome catch his breath and suddenly what had started as a game had taken a serious turn. 'No,' she said hastily. 'I—I think it's a hunger pain—I really do—'

'I'm fetching the doctor.' Rome strode to the door. 'I'll drive down myself, it will be quicker that way—'

'Rome, no!' Julia knelt up on the bed. 'I don't need him, really. You don't have to go driving down to the village at some breakneck speed—please! I'll be perfectly all right as soon as I've eaten my supper—I do get this gnawing feeling—it's because I'm eating for two. Please, don't go!'

He stood gripping the door handle, and then he swung round to face her. 'Are you playing a game with me?' His jaw was grimly set and there was a dangerous glitter in his eyes.

Julia huddled down into the bedclothes, feeling her mouth go dry. 'I—I expect I have indigestion—'

'Yes, something to gripe about.' His narrowed eyes raked over her, then he glanced at Lucie. 'Please leave us,' he said. 'I think I have to get to the bottom of this—infliction.'

'Yes,
signore
.' Lucie gave Julia a quick look, half-shaking her head as if to say that she was in for it, and deservedly so. Rome withdrew from the door as Lucie approached and he gave her a brief smile as she went out of the room, but as soon as he closed the door behind her, his smile was gone. He slid his hands into his jacket pockets as he came back to Julia, as if he didn't trust their inclination to give her a good shaking.

'I suppose you think you're clever?' he said, leaning over her and giving her the full benefit of the anger in his eyes. 'Well, I get the message, my dear, and you have my full assurance that what occurred down on the beach won't happen again. I have no inclination to touch a woman who stoops to petty spite in order to get even with a man, but for what it's worth, Julia, you weren't unwilling in my arms. You were as much a part of
it
as I was, and I wonder if that's why you had to pretend I'd hurt you in some way.
Santo Dio
, I felt as if me blood left my heart! But you'll never do that to me again—I wouldn't touch you now if you begged me to do so!'

Julia gazed up at him, her heart thudding so hard beneath the silk of her nightdress that she thought she might faint The stiletto she had turned on him had now been reversed and it was as if a fine thread of pure steel was sliding in somewhere in the region of her ribs. She caught her breath at both the pain and the lean dark intensity of Rome's face in the lamplight His eyes held that diamond brilliance, the pupils so enlarged they were like mirrors reflecting her white face. There wasn't a vestige of triumph left in her now… she was feeling the backlash that spitefulness brought with it.

'Well, now we're even.' She turned her head away from him, her nerves shrinking when something landed on the bed with a thump.

'You can regard that as payment for all your recent suffering at my hands.' Never had he sounded more sarcastic. 'Take a look—I was told by the dealer that it's genuine Victorian, so it should suit your attitude very well, my dear.'

Julia didn't want to look at what he'd thrown on the bed, but she knew he was in a smouldering rage that would intensify if she didn't show some interest in his gift. She felt the tremor in her hands when she opened the package and discovered a vanity-case of gold patterned with filigree and adorned by a glimmering pearl and a lustrous ruby set side by side.

'Purity and passion,' he mocked. 'I intended to buy you a trinket, but when I saw the box I couldn't resist it. The perfect gift for my pearl of a bride, eh? Does it appeal to you?'

'Yes, thank you.' She spoke tonelessly. 'The vanity-case is very nice.'

'And doubtless the woman who last used it was just as good at playing the shrinking violet.'

'Wouldn't it have suited your tempestuous
se
ň
orita
?' Julia flashed.

'I wouldn't dream of giving anything like that to Ramona Albaňez.' He gave that soft laugh Julia had heard before in connection with the woman, and his casual mention of her name in their bedroom was a little too much for Julia's temper. One moment the vanity-case was in her hand and the next it was flying towards Rome and she saw it strike his cheek, making him flinch and step backwards, a livid mark showing against his skin. He gazed silently at her for about half a minute, then as if he no longer trusted himself he swung on his heel and strode out of the room, flinging the door shut behind him.

The gold box lay where it had fallen, half buried in the deep wool of the carpet. Julia crouched on the bed, appalled by what she had done. It could have struck his eye, and her stomach heaved as she pictured the blood and the agony. Suddenly she pressed a hand over her mouth and made urgently for the bathroom where she leaned over the toilet bowl and was wrenchingly sick. After several minutes she fell back against the tiled wall. Her body felt cold and yet there was a fine film of perspiration clinging to her skin.

Julia had never behaved in such a temperamental way in her life; such a wilful action could so easily have damaged one of Rome's eyes.

A sob caught in her throat and she sank down in the matting of the bathroom floor and buried her face in her hands. She could feel the tears seeping between her fingers and she felt almost as wretched as when she had found she was going to have a baby and the future had felt so frightening. She rocked back and forth in a kind of emotional agony, the tears running down her face and salting her lips. Tonight she had satisfied the urge to hurt Rome, but in the process she had hurt herself as well, in a way so bewildering she hardly knew how to cope with it.

Rome had come to her from the beach, a seeking light in his eyes which she had quenched… she had seen it flicker and die when he turned on his heel and left her, bearing on his face the bruise she had inflicted.

Lucie found her huddled on the floor and after bathing her eyes for her, helped her back into bed. 'I warned you, my lamb.' She stroked the tousled hair out of Julia's swollen eyes. 'When a man holds out the olive branch you don't knock it out of his hand. When you do that, it's a poor broken thing that you try to pick up again.'

Prophetic words, as Julia discovered in the days that followed and turned gradually into weeks.