Love Play by Rosemary Rogers

SWEET ENCHANTRESS!

There was a depth to the greenness of her eyes in which lay a fine
shower of gold, barely escaping from making her eyes appear hazel. Sun-flushed
cheekbones high enough to shadow her face, especially in the leaping orange and
gold candle flame. And a mouth … Dio! he swore at himself in his mind. Why must
he always look at her mouth and want to capture it and crush it with his
again...

With love and thanks to all those people without whose support and
understanding I might never have finished it - and particularly to my son Adam
who guarded my long nights, my friend Martha who made sure I got enough sleep,
and my own particular 'Duca' who taught me the Italian love words.

Love Play by Rosemary Rogers

Chapter1

The singer's voice, husky and accented, breathed through the headphones
that Sara had stubbornly worn from the beginning of the flight. Besume, besame
mucho . . .

With her eyes closed, she grimaced slightly. Love songs! All she needed.
And especially in Spanish, reminding her too vividly of Eduardo, his mournful
dark eyes fixed on her, pleading with her. 'But, tesoro, I want to marry you!
How can your father object to that? Also, you know that I have enough money, so
that is no object, si? We can live anywhere you want to live ..."

No, no, Eduardol Poor Eduardo! She should have been honest with him,
instead of hiding behind excuses. Her father. Her education. But how to tell a
man that she simply couldn't stand to have him touch her because his hands
always felt so clammy?

The captain's voice cut through the music, reminding everyone that they
would be landing at Kennedy Airport in fifteen minutes. And anyone who wished
to listen to the pilots' communication with the traffic controllers could
switch to channel —

Sara got rid of the headphones and smoothed her hair by running her
fingers through it. Scanning her face in the small mirror she had produced from
her purse, she grimaced again. Bad habit she'd have to stop.

'Darling child, you simply have got to stop making facesl You don't want
to have lines and wrinkles later on, do you? Look at me . . .'

Well, Mama was easy to look at anyhow! Especially if one judged by the
millions of filmgoers all over the world who adored Mona Charles.

Everyone said that Sara took after her mother. But people never
recognised her — or thought they did — in spite of the fact that she and Mona
had the same colouring.

The tiny mirror gave back an uncompromising image of a face that was too
pale except for spots of colour on the cheekbones. Dark mahogany-coloured hair
swinging straight and smooth to her shoulders, lashes just as dark and just as
long as Mona's, over the same emerald-green eyes. But nobody asked her if she
was Mona Charles -- and maybe it had to do with the slim, almost girlish figure
and her height. Mama-Mona had breasts, and she wasn't over five three. She was
still gorgeous — five children and four husbands later.

'And I,' Sara told herself severely, snapping the compact shut, 'will
probably have all the lines and wrinkles Mona warned me about before I'm
thirty.'

Thanks to Daddy, she was the daughter that hardly anyone knew about.
Mona had been married for a short time to Sir Eric Colville —one of her
'settling down' periods when she had decided, publicly, to give everything up
for love and an English title. When she'd left Sir Eric for a Shakespearean
actor, their daughter Sara had been left behind too, along with Nanny Staggs
and an Afghan called Goldie.

But that hadn't meant that Mona didn't love her daughter Sara. There
were always The Visits -- perfumed embraces and afternoons at the zoo.
Expensive toys and intro¬ductions to new people. It was almost like being part
of strangely parallel worlds until Daddy had insisted on the private schools
and no publicity. But that was after Sara had been introduced to her half
sister, Delight, who was, as Mona always said on a sigh, a love child.

Delight was only eighteen months younger than Sara, and yet, after the
few summers they had spent together, Sara always felt younger. Delight had been
everywhere and knew everyone. And Delight had done practically every¬thing. She
was physical, where Sara was cerebral. Above all, Delight was excitement, and a
whole different world. A world Daddy didn't necessarily approve of, but Sara
was over twenty-one now and could do as she pleased.

The runway lights winked below her, and she took a deep breath as she
settled back for the landing. New York! And Delight would be there to meet her.
A whole week in New York before she had to fly to Los Angeles to settle down to
studying. But with her sharing a Brentwood apartment with Delight, postgraduate
classes at UCLA could never be boring, to say the least!

'Darling! Sara, darling!'

She had not recognised her sister until she waved and burst through the
clustering crowd that waited for disembarking passengers. Delight was wearing
an Afro and enormous sunglasses that shaded her eyes and most of her face as
well. The last time they had met, Delight's hair had been worn long and
straight and almost down to her waist, and she had worn no make-up at all, but
tonight she had on shiny red lip gloss and faint colour along her cheekbones.
She was slimmer and had acquired a glorious tan.

'Hey, Sis!' They hugged, both talking almost at once as they began to
catch up on the past three years.

'I'd never have known you if you hadn't called out!'

'You need to soak up lots and lots of sun — haven't you been playing any
tennis recently?'

'Only indoors, I'm afraid! And you . . .?'

'Wait till I tell you! Oh, wow! And I've got a part in a movie - only a
small one this time but in a straight film, you know?'

 
Her sister's giggle reminded Sara
of the time that Delight, to Mama's horror, had appeared in a couple of very
sexually explicit X-rated movies. 'What one might do in private is one thing,
but for all the world to see . . .!' Poor Mona! It wasn't often that she came
over 'all proper', as Nanny Staggs would have put it.

'Do you have a lot of luggage? For God's sake, let's get out of this
madhouse!'

People looked curiously at the two young women who were such a contrast
— Sara Colville in her smart Givenchy suit and Delight Adams in tight-fitting
Levis tucked into boots - a tiny cotton tank top that clung almost too tightly
to her firm young curves. They didn't even look like sisters now, with Delight's
green eyes hidden; and yet when they had dressed alike and worn their hair the
same way people used to take them for twins.

'Do you remember the confusion we used to cause? Poor Pietro - he was
always my favourite of Mona's husbands because I felt he really liked kids.'

'Oh, yes, I liked Pietro too, but I hated Virgil! All that hair on the
back of his hands and those smelly cigars - I used to wonder how she could let
him near her!'

'He was a monster in bed! He used to make her do the most outrageous things
- and love doing them!' Delight giggled at the look on her sister's face. 'I
watched them! You never knew that, did you? I was afraid you'd tell on me, and
besides it was my secret. I used to hide in the closet. It sure taught me a
lot!'

'I'm sure it did!' Sara said dryly, but she was still horrified,
although Delight would only laugh if she knew that. Delight would probably
laugh even harder if she knew that Sara, who was older, had not yet slept with
a man.

A bloody virgin at twenty-one! I ought to find a man —. any man, and get
it over with! She'd tell herself that over and over - and not do anything about
it. Few of the men she had met had really turned her on, and of those, none of
them had passed what she, called to herself Test Number Two, which was meeting
— and resisting — the still-gorgeous Mona.

An hour and fifteen minutes later as they sat on floor cushions in
Delight's little studio apartment, Sara watched her sister's animated face and
hands and wondered how it
 
must feel to
be Delight who'd done everything - or practically everything - before she was
eighteen! Life never stood still for long enough to become dull around Delight.
'More wine?' Without waiting for Sara's reply Delight was already pouring it.
'You still need to loosen up a little, big Sis!' she said, only half kidding,
and then, sitting back on her haunches she lifted her wine-glass in a toast.
'Here's to me and the one thing I haven't tried yet - marriage!'

'Marriage!' That was a shocker, and Sara sat up straight, her winged dark
brows questioning. 'Why didn't you tell me before? And who is he - or are you
teasing again?'

Delight shook her head vigorously, her eyes shining with mischief and
the big gold hoops she wore in her ears flying.

'Nope! I'm not teasing this time. But you know me - I always save the
best news until the last. We've been living together, but he's had to go back
to California to meet his big brother, who's flying in from Rome. He's Italian,
and . . .' Delight paused long enough to take a deep breath before kissing her
fingers in a very Italian gesture. 'He's a fantastic lover, and he's - God,
wait until you see him, he's beautiful! He's even old-fashioned enough to want
kids -can you imagine that? We're going to honeymoon in India -I've always
wanted to see the Taj Mahal by moonlight! So what do you think?'

'Well, I must say I'm surprised The last time we met I remember your
telling me you'd never get married! You said - '

Delight waved her hand impatiently, silver bangles jangling. 'Oh, yes, I
remember very well! I said I believed in variety, and that I wanted to try
everything ... and I have -or almost everything, you don't have to look so
shocked! But - people change, you know that yourself, look at you! Who would
have thought, three years ago, that you'd actually run away from home and come
to UCLA instead of some stuffy old school like Oxford or Cambridge? I'll bet
that's what your daddy wanted you to do, wasn't it?'

The slight flush that rose in Sara's pale English complexion gave
Delight her answer, making her add quickly and contritely, 'Darling, I didn't
really mean to sound like a snot! All I meant was . . . was, well, you know
what I mean! Three years ago I was a different girl, I really was. I was wild -
well, I still am, a little bit - and I enjoyed every minute of living and
experiencing life. And after Mama-Mona - wouldn't that turn you off marriage?
Remember when we'd both swear that we'd never, ever get married? I didn't even
believe in love, just making love, or ... or screwing, as the case may have
been, depending on
 
the circumstances and
who I was with. And then I met Carlo, and suddenly ... I don't quite know how
it happened or exactly when it happened, but I was in love! And the magical
part of it was that he was too! Oh, Sara! Haven't you been in love? Or had a
crush on somebody?'

'Oh, lots of crushes, but I think I'd much rather avoid falling in love,
thank you! Look how many times Mama-Mona's been in and out!' Sara's voice was
light, and she hoped her eyes didn't show her slight uneasiness. Delight
sounded happy, and Sara was happy for her, but her sister was such a volatile,
changeable creature, it was hard to conceive of her actually settling down - if
that was what she planned.

Tactfully, Sara said: 'Do tell me more about this Carlo of yours,
though. Is he kind to you? What does he do for a living? And what will you two
do after the moonlight and the Taj Mahal?'

For the first time she saw Delight frown slightly before turning away
with a muttered: 'Do you mind if I light up a joint first? It's a long story,
and you - well, if I didn't explain it all, give you the background, you really
wouldn't understand. And I do want you to understand, Sara! You're the
level-headed one of us two, and you were always getting me out of scrapes,
remember? Anyway...'She turned back, offering Sara a thick, expertly rolled
joint; grinning when Sara shook her head. 'Don't tell me you've never tried one
yet? Oh, come on, everyone has in this day and age! Look, this is all you have
to do . . .' Sucking acrid-smelling smoke deeply into her lungs, she held it
there with her eyes closed, seeming, under Sara's fascinated eyes, to swallow
it deeper and deeper inside until there was no smoke left to be exhaled. The
strange thing was that Delight seemed quite unaffected by it— Sara had almost
expected her to keel over immediately!

'Come on, try it! Just one toke, it'll relax you, I guarantee it! And
you might as well practise some under my expert supervision before you get to
UCLA and try it there. And you will, Sis, you will. Don't look at me like that!
Because if you don't they'll think you're some kind of weirdo!'

'I could say I'm allergic?' Sara said hopefully, wrinkling her nose at
the bittersweet odour.

'Then they'd expect you to be into something else, like coke. Ever
snorted?'

'No! And I don't intend to either!'

'Oh, Jesus Christ, Sara, you've got to stop being so... so damned
straight! Why don't you learn to relax and have some fun for a change? I don't
mean like me, I know my type of fun isn't yours, but you don't want to stay on
the outside looking in forever, do you? You've got to try a few things, ' take
a few risks, live a little, you know?'

Other words floated into Sara's mind as she returned her sister's
teasing, slightly mocking gaze. 'Such a good child, Miss Sara. Never a moment's
trouble, she gives me. Always no well behaved . . .' Nanny Staggs, dear old
Nanny!

And her father, after one of Delight's rare visits, saying approvingly,
'I'm glad you're such an obedient, quiet child, Sara. Never let others influence
you or change you.'

But now, looking back, she saw with sudden clarity that what he'd really
meant was that she mustn't deviate from the rules and regulations he'd hedged
her about with. Not that Daddy hadn't meant well, but. . . damn it, she was an
adult
 
now, and she had to learn to
coexist with other young adults. She didn't want to be an outsider, looking in,
as Delight had pointed out.