Passion's Mistress (13 page)

toys, and feeding bowls.

Ann-Marie looked as if she'd been given the world, and Carly experienced

reluctant gratitude for Stefano's timing.

'Thank you,' she said quietly as they emerged from their daughter's bedroom,

having settled an ecstatically happy little girl to sleep. Françoise was equally

settled in her sleeping-box beside Ann- Marie's bed.

His smile was warm, genuine, she perceived with a slight start of surprise,

for there was no evidence of his usual mockery.

'She has waited long enough to enjoy the company of a much wanted pet.'

Carly felt a pang of remorse for the years spent living in rented

accommodation which had excluded the ownership of animals. It seemed

another peg in the victory stakes for Stefano—a silent comparison of

provision. His against hers.

'We have fifteen minutes before Charles is due to arrive,' Stefano intimated

as they reached their suite. 'Can you be ready in time?'

She was, with a few seconds to spare, looking attractive in a slim-fitting

dress in vivid tones of peacock-green and -blue. Her hair was confined in a

simple knot, her make-up understated with practised emphasis on her eyes...

Eyes which met his and held them unflinchingly as she preceded him from

the room.

CHARLES WINSLOW THE THIRD was a friendly, gregarious gentleman whose

daughter was of a similar age to his second wife.

If appearances were anything to go by, each young woman had worked hard

to outdo the other in the fashion stakes, for each wore a designer label that

resembled creations by Dior and Ungaro.

Carly felt her own dress paled by comparison, for although the classic style

was elegant it was hardly new.

Within seconds of entering the lounge Charles took hold of Carly's hand and

raised it, Southern- style, to his lips.

'I'm delighted the two of you are together again,' he intoned solemnly.

'You're too beautiful to remain unattached, and Stefano was a fool to let you

escape.'

Carly caught Stefano's faintly lifted eyebrow and was unable to prevent the

slight quiver at the edge of her mouth. Without blinking an eyelid, she sent

Charles her most dazzling smile. 'Charles,' she greeted with equal solemnity.

'You haven't changed.'

His faintly wolfish smile was no mean complement to his sparkling brown

eyes. 'My wife tells me I become more irascible with every year, and

Georgeanne only tags along because I pay her bills.'

'Ignore him,' Kathy-Lee advised with a light smile.

'Stefano,' Georgeanne purred, offering Carly a sharp assessing glance before

focusing her attention on her father's business associate. 'It's wonderful to

see you again.'

'Wonderful' was a pretty fine superlative to describe Charles's daughter,

Carly mused, for the young woman was all grown up and pure feline.

Kathy-Lee, at least, opted to observe the conventions and set out to charm

superficially while choosing to ignore the machinations of her stepdaughter.

Which, Carly noted circumspectly, grew more bold with every passing hour.

Perhaps it was merely a game, she perceived as they leisurely dispensed

with one delectable course after another.

Whatever the reason, Carly refused to rise to the bait, and instead drew

Charles into a lengthy and highly technical discourse on the intricacies of

computer programming. As he owed much of his fortune to creating

specialised programs, his knowledge was unequalled.

Stefano, to give him his due, did nothing to encourage Georgeanne's

attention, but Carly detected an implied intimacy that hurt unbearably. It

clouded her beautiful eyes, leaving them faintly pensive,"' and, although her

smile flashed with necessary brilliance throughout the evening, her hands

betrayed their nervousness on one occasion, incurring Stefano's narrowed

glance as she swiftly averted spilling the contents of her wine glass.

Carly told herself she couldn't care less about her husband's past

indiscretions, but deep within her resentment flared, and mingled with a

certain degree of pain.

Outwardly, Stefano was the perfect host, his attention faultless, and only she

knew that the implied intimacy of his smile merely depicted a contrived

image for the benefit of their guests.

It was almost eleven when Charles indicated that they must leave.

'It's so early,' Georgeanne protested with a pretty pout. 'I thought we might

go on to a nightclub.'

'Honey,' Charles chided with a slow sloping smile before directing Carly a

wicked wink, 'I have no doubt Stefano and Carly have a different kind of

socialising in mind.'

His daughter effected a faint moue, then sent Stefano a luscious smile. 'Don't

be crude, Daddy. I'm sure Stefano has the stamina for both.'

Charles gave Kathy-Lee the sort of look that made Carly's toes curl before

switching his attention to his daughter. 'It's no contest, darlin',' he drawled.

Georgeanne evinced her disappointment, then effected a light shrugging

gesture. 'If you say so.' She moved a step closer to Stefano and placed

scarlet-tipped nails against his jacket-encased arm.
'Ciao, caro
.' She reached

up and brushed her lips against his cheek—only because he turned his head

and she missed his mouth. Her smile was pure celluloid, and there was a

faint malicious gleam as she turned towards Carly. 'You look—tired,

sweetie.'

Without blinking, Carly met the other girl's sultry stare, and issued softly,

'Stefano doesn't allow me much time to sleep.'

Charles's eyes danced with ill-concealed humour. 'Give it up, Georgeanne.'

With old-fashioned charm he took told of Carly's hand and squeezed it

gently. 'You must be our guests for dinner before we fly back to the States.'

Carly simply smiled, and walked at Stefano's side to the foyer. Minutes later

Charles, Kathy-Lee and Georgeanne were seated in their hired car, and

almost as soon as the rear lights disappeared through the gates Carly moved

upstairs to check on Ann-Marie and Fran§oise.

A tiny black head lifted from the sleeping-box to regard her solemnly, then

nestled back against the blanket.

'I'll take her outside for a few minutes, then she should be all right until

morning.'

Carly turned slowly at the sound of Stefano's voice, and she nodded in silent

acquiescence. Ann- Marie was lost in sleep, her features relaxed and

cherubic in the dull reflected glow of her night-light, the covers in place, and

her favourite doll and teddy bear vying for affection on either side of her

small frame.

Carly felt the sudden prick of tears, and blinked rapidly to dispel them. Her

daughter was so small, so dependent—so damned vulnerable.

She was hardly aware of Stefano's return, and it took only seconds to settle

the poodle comfortably among its blankets.

Once inside their own suite, Carly stepped directly through to the bathroom

and removed her make-up with slightly shaking fingers. Her nerves felt as if

they were shredding into a thousand pieces, and she needed a second attempt

at replacing the lid on the jar of cleanser.

When she re-entered the bedroom Stefano was propped up in bed, stroking

notes into a leather- bound book, and her stomach executed a series of' flips

at his breadth of shoulder, the hard-muscled chest with its liberal whorls of

dark hair tapering down to a firm waist.

The pale-coloured sheet merely highlighted the natural olive colour of his

skin, and as if sensing her appraisal he looked up and pinned her gaze, only

to chuckle softly as she quickly averted her eyes.

'Shy, Carly?' he drawled, and she hated the faint flood of pink that warmed

her cheeks as she moved towards her bed.

He possessed all the attributes of a superb jungle animal, resplendent,

resting, yet totally focused on his prey.

An arrow of pain arched up from the centre of her being in the knowledge

that seven years ago she would have laughed with him, tantalisingly slid the

nightgown from her shoulders—if she'd even opted to wear one—and

walked towards him, sure of his waiting arms, the rapture that would take

them far into the night.

Now, she fingered the decorative frill on the pillowslip, and made a play of

plumping the pillow, feeling oddly reluctant to skip into bed, yet longing for

the relaxing effect of several hours' sleep.

'How delightful,
cara
,' Stefano teased mercilessly. 'You can still blush.'

Carly lifted her head and her eyes sparked with latent fire. 'If you wanted a

playmate for the evening, you should have gone nightclubbing with

Georgeanne.'

One eyebrow slanted in silent mockery. 'Why— when I have my very own

playmate at home?'

Anger mingled with the fire, and produced a golden-flecked flame within

the brilliant darkness of her gaze. 'Because I don't like playing games, and I

particularly don't want to play them with
you!'

'Georgeanne is--'

'I know perfectly well what Georgeanne is!' she vented quietly, hating his

level gaze. She was angry, without any clear reason
why.

'—the daughter of a very good friend of mine,' he continued as if she hadn't

spoken, 'who delights in practising her feminine witchery.' His eyes

hardened fractionally. 'Charles should have disciplined her precociousness

at a young age.'

'Oh—fiddlesticks,'
Carly responded, unwilling to agree with him.

'Georgeanne suffers from acute boredom, and views any attractive man as a

contest. If he's married, that presents even more of a challenge.'

Stefano's eyes speared hers, and his expression assumed a lazy indolence.

'Jealous,
cara?'

'Stop calling me that!'

'You're expending so much nervous energy,' he drawled imperturbably.

'You'll never be able to relax sufficiently to sleep.'

Without thinking she picked up the pillow and threw it at him, then gasped

as he fielded it with one hand and moved with lightning speed to trap her

before she had the chance to move. She wrenched her arm in an effort to be

free of him, then she cried out as he tightened his grip and pulled her down

on to the bed.

There wasn't a chance she could escape, yet to lie quiescent was impossible,

and she flailed at him with her free arm, then groaned with despair as he

caught it and held her immobile.

His mouth was inches above her own, and she just looked at him, unable to

focus her gaze on anything except his strong, chiselled features and the

darkness of his eyes.

Time became suspended as she lay still, mesmerised by the look of him,

imprisoned in a spellbinding thrall of all her senses. This close, the warmth

of his breath skimmed her mouth, and she could smell the faint musky tones

of his aftershave, the clean body smell emanating from his skin, and the

essential maleness that was his alone. An answering awareness unfurled

deep within her, flaring into vibrant life as it coursed through her body with

the intensity of flame.

She could see the knowledge of it reflected in his eyes, the waiting

expectancy evident as every cell, every nerve-end flowered into a sexual

bloom so vivid, so hauntingly warm that she caught his faint intake of breath

an instant before his head slowly lowered to claim her mouth in a teasingly

gentle kiss that was so incredibly evocative that she was powerless to still

the faint prick of tears.

His lips trailed to the sensitive cord at the edge of her neck, nuzzling the

sweet hollows, before continuing a slow descent to a highly sensitised nub

peaking at her breast.

The anticipation was almost more than she could bear, and she murmured

indistinctly, craving the exquisite pleasure of his touch, exulting when he

took the tender peak into his mouth and began teasing it with the edge of his

teeth.

A deep shooting pain arrowed through her body, and she slid her hands up

over his shoulders in a tactile voyage of discovery until her fingers reached

the dark curling hair at his nape.

An ache began at the junction of her thighs, and she arched her body against

his in unbidden invitation, then she gave a pleasurable sigh as his fingers slid

to caress the aroused orifice to a peak of exquisite pleasure, his movements

deftly skilled, until nothing less than total possession was enough.

She became mindless, caught in the thrall of a passion so intense that she

began to beg, pleading with him in wanton abandon, until with sure

movements he plunged deep inside, stilling as she gasped at his level of

penetration.

Then slowly he began to withdraw, only to repeat the initial thrust again and

again, increasing in rapidity until her body caught hold of his rhythm and

then paced it in unison until the momentum tipped them both over the edge