Passion's Mistress (20 page)

daughter's excited chatter about a new patient who had been admitted that

morning.

As Carly left the hospital and drove home she couldn't help wishing her life

were clear-cut, and there were no tensions, no subtle game-playing that ate

at the heartstrings and destroyed one's self- esteem.

Perhaps she should stop fighting this conflict within herself and just accept

the status quo, be content with her existence as Stefano's wife, and condone

the pleasure they shared each night. To hunger for anything more was

madness.

After garaging the car, Carly consulted with Sylvana, made suitably

appreciative comments, then opted to cool off with a leisurely swim in the

pool.

Stefano arrived home as Carly was putting the finishing touches to her

make-up, and she turned as he entered their suite, her expression

deliberately bland as she registered his tall, dark-suited frame before lifting

her head to meet his gaze.

His eyes were dark, probing hers, and after a fleeting glance her own

skittered towards the vicinity of his left shoulder. The last thing she needed

was a confrontation. Not with Sarah and James due within minutes.

'I'll go down and check with Sylvana,' Carly said evenly. 'I'll wait for you in

the lounge.'

It was a relief to escape his presence, and she was grateful for Sarah's

punctuality, immensely glad of her friend's warm personality.

The meal was a gourmet's delight, and although conversation flowed with

ease Carly merely operated on automatic pilot as she forked food

intermittently into her mouth, then toyed with the remainder on her plate.

She laughed, genuinely enjoying Sarah's anecdotes intermingled with those

of James, but all the while she felt like a disembodied spectator.

It was almost ten when they rose from the table.

'I'll make the coffee,' Carly declared, and smiled when Sarah rose to her feet.

'I'll help you.'

Sylvana had set everything ready in the kitchen, so that all Carly had to do

was percolate the coffee.

'How are things going--?' Carly broke off with a laugh in the realisation that

Sarah was asking the same question simultaneously with her own. 'You go

first,' she bade her, shooting her friend a smiling glance.

'Where shall I start?' Sarah returned with a grin as she crossed to the servery,

and cast the stylish kitchen an appreciative glance. 'Lucky you,' she smiled

without a trace of envy. 'All this, and Stefano, too.'

'Sarah...' Carly warned with a low growl, and Sarah grinned unrepentantly.

'James and Stefano seem to have a lot in common,' Sarah offered

innocuously, her eyes sparkling as Carly shot her a speaking glance. 'James

is nice,' she admitted quietly. 'I like him.'

'And?'
Carly prompted.

'Sometimes I think I could get used to the idea of a relationship with him,

then I'm not sure I want to make that sort of change to my life.' Her eyes

sought Carly's, and her voice softened. 'How about you?'

'Ann-Marie is improving daily.'

'That wasn't what I asked,' Sarah admonished teasingly, and Carly's

expression became faintly pensive.

'I seem to swing like a pendulum between resentment and acceptance.'

'You look...' Sarah paused, her eyes narrowing with thoughtful speculation.

'Pregnant. Are you?'

Carly opened her mouth to deny it, then closed it again as her mind rapidly

calculated dates. Her eyes became an expressive host to a number of varying

fleeting emotions.

'You have that certain look a woman possesses in the initial few weeks,'

Sarah observed gently. 'A subtle tiredness as the body refocuses its energy.

You had the same look the day we met moving into neighbouring

apartments,' she added softly.

'It could be stress from juggling twice-daily hospital visits, marriage,' Carly

offered in strangled tones as the implications of a possible pregnancy began

to sink in. She
couldn't
be, surely? Yet the symptoms were all there, added to

facts she'd been too busy to notice.

She lifted a shaking hand, then let it fall again, and for one heartfelt second

her eyes filled with naked pain before she successfully masked their

expression.

'The coffee is perking,' Sarah reminded gently, and Carly crossed to turn

down the heat, then when it was ready she placed it on the tray.

The men were deep in conversation when Carly and Sarah re-entered the

lounge, and if either detected that the girls' smiles were a little too bright

they gave no sign.

It was almost eleven when Sarah indicated the need to leave, explaining, 'I'm

due to go on duty tomorrow morning at seven.' She rose to her feet, thanked

both Stefano and Carly for a delightful evening, and at the door she gave

Carly a quick hug in farewell. 'Ring me when you can.'

Carly turned back towards the lobby the instant the car headlights

disappeared down the drive, moving into the lounge to collect coffee-cups

together prior to carrying them through to the kitchen.

'Leave them,' Stefano instructed as he saw what she was doing. 'Sylvana can

take care of it in the morning.'

'It will only take a minute.' In the kitchen, she rinsed and stacked them in the

dishwasher, then turned to find him leaning against the edge of the table,

watching her with narrowed scrutiny.

She stood perfectly still, despite every nerve-end screaming at fever pitch,

and her chin lifted fractionally as he took the necessary steps towards her.

'What now, Stefano?' Carly queried with a touch of defiance. 'A

post-mortem on lunch?'

One eyebrow slanted in mocking query. 'What part of lunch would you

particularly like to refer to?'

'I disliked being publicly labelled as your possession,' she insisted, stung by

his cynicism.

'Yet you are,' he declared silkily. 'My feelings where you're concerned verge

on the primitive.'

A tiny pulse quickened at the base of her throat, then began to hammer in

palpable confusion as she absorbed the essence of his words. 'Is that meant

to frighten me?'

Tension filled the air, lending a highly volatile quality that was impossible to

ignore. 'Only if you choose to allow it,' he mocked, and she stood perfectly

still as he conducted a slow, all-encompassing appraisal, lingering on the

deepness of her eyes, and her soft, trembling mouth.

He lifted a hand to brush gentle fingers across her cheek, and she reared back

as if from a lick of flame.

'Don't touch me.'

'Why ever not,
cara?'

'Because that's where it starts and ends,' she asserted with a mixture of

despair and wretchedness.

'You find my lovemaking so distasteful?'

His musing indulgence was the living end, and she lashed out at him with

expressive anger.'
Lust,
damn you!' she corrected heatedly, so incensed that

she balled both hands into fists and punched him, uncaring that she

connected with the hard, muscular wall of his chest.

'Lust is a bartered commodity. What would you like me to give you?' His

voice was a low-pitched drawl that cut right through to the heart. 'An item of

jewellery, perhaps?'

For several long seconds she just looked at him, filled with an aching pain so

acute that it took all her effort to breathe evenly. What was the use, she

agonised silently, of aiming for something that didn't exist?

'In return for which I reward you in bed?' The words were out before she had

time to give them much thought, and afterwards it was too late to retract

them.

His dark brooding glance narrowed fractionally, then his mouth curved in

mocking amusement. 'Ah,
cam
,' he taunted softly. 'You reward me so well.'

The need to get away from him, even temporarily, was paramount, and she

turned towards the door, only to be brought to a halt as hard hands caught

hold of each shoulder and spun her round.

Her eyes blazed with anger through a mist of tears as she tilted her head in

silent apathy, hating him more at that precise moment than she thought it

possible to hate anyone.

'Stop making fun of me! I won't have it, do you hear?' Angry, frustrated tears

filled her eyes as he restrained her with galling ease, and she shook her head

helplessly as he drew her inextricably close.

'Don't--' Carly begged, feeling the familiar pull of her senses. It would be so

easy to succumb, simply to close her eyes and become transported by the

special magic of their shared sexual alchemy.

'When have I ever made fun of you?' he teased gently, and she shivered

slightly as one hand slid down over the soft roundness of her bottom,

pressing her close against the unmistakable force of his arousal, while the

other slid up to cup her nape.

'Every time I oppose you,' she began shakily, then, gathering the scattered

threads of her courage, she continued with strengthened resolve. 'You

resolve it by sweeping me off to bed.' Lifting her hands, she attempted to put

some distance between them, only to fail miserably.

'Am I to be damned forever for finding you desirable?'

The thread of amusement in his voice hurt unbearably. Tm not a sex object

you can use merely to satisfy a need for revenge.'

His eyes searched hers, dark and unfathomable as he held her immobile.

'Let me go, damn you!'

He looked at her in silence for what seemed an age, his eyes darkening until

they resembled the deepest slate—hard and equally obdurate.

'Does it feel like revenge every time I take you in my arms?' he queried with

dangerous silkiness.

It was heaven and the entire universe rolled into one, ecstasy at its zenith.

She looked at him for what seemed an age, unable to utter so much as a

word.

Dared she take the chance? All the pent-up anger, her so-called resentment,

dissipated as if it had never existed.

'No,' Carly voiced quietly, and he shook her gently, sliding his hands from

her shoulders up to cup her face.

'From the moment I first met you I wanted to lock you in a gilded prison and

throw away the key. Except such a primitive action wouldn't have been

condoned in this day and age.' His eyes were level, and she was unable to

drag her own away from the darkness or the pain evident. 'You were a prime

target... young, and incredibly susceptible,' he enlightened her softly.

'If I had been able to get my hands on you during those first few weeks after

you left Perth I think I would have strangled you,' he continued slowly.

'Your mother disavowed any knowledge of your whereabouts, and I soon

realised you had no intention of contacting me.' His voice hardened

measurably, and assumed a degree of cynicism. 'The letter dispatched from

your solicitor merely confirmed it.'

He was silent for so long that she wondered if he intended to continue.

'A marriage has no foundation without trust, and as you professed to have

lost your trust in me I let you go. Fully expecting,' he added with a trace of

mockery, 'to be officially notified of an impending divorce.'

He
hadn't been able to instigate such proceedings any more than she had.

Her heart set up a quickened beat.

'Not long after shifting base to Sydney I attended an accounting seminar

with a fellow associate at which Clive Mathorpe was a guest speaker. I was

impressed. Sufficiently so to utilise his services.' He proffered a faint smile.

'Coincidence,
fate
perhaps, that Carly Taylor
Alessi
should be a respected

member of his firm. The night I met you at Clive's home I was intrigued by

your maturity and self-determination. And very much aware that the intense

sexual magic we once shared was still in evidence.' His eyes held hers, and

his voice was deliberate as he continued, 'For both of us.'

Carly looked at him carefully, seeing his innate strength, the power in

evidence, and knew that she would never willingly want to be apart from

him. It was always easy, with hindsight, to rationalise- to indulge in a series

of 'what if's, and 'if only's. Maturity had taught her there could only be
now.

'Angelica's ammunition was pretty powerful,' she offered quietly. 'I found it

emotionally damaging at the time.'

There was a mesmeric silence, intensifying until she became conscious of

every breath she took.

'I have known Angelica from birth,-' Stefano revealed with deceptive

mildness, and a muscle tensed along the edge of his jaw. 'Our affiliation

owes itself to two sets of parents who immigrated to Australia more than

forty years ago. They prospered in one business venture after another,

achieving phenomenal success. So much so that hope was fostered that the

only Alessi son might marry an Agnelli daughter and thus form a dynasty.'

He paused fractionally, and searched her pale features, seeing the faint

shadows evident beneath her eyes. 'It was a game I chose not to play,' he