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Authors: Helen Bianchin

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BOOK: Passion's Mistress
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His expression was impossible to read, and as the seconds dragged silently

by she felt like screaming— anything to get some reaction.

'Tell me,' Stefano began in a voice that was satin- smooth and dangerous,

'was I to be forever kept in ignorance of her existence?'

Oh, dear lord, how could she answer that? Should she even dare, when she

wasn't sure of the answer herself? 'Maybe when she was older I would have

offered her the opportunity to get in touch with you,' she admitted with

hesitant honesty.

'Grazie
.' His voice was as chilling as an ice floe in an arctic wasteland. 'And

how, precisely, did you intend to achieve that? By having her turn up on my

doorstep, ten, fifteen years from now, with a briefly penned note of

explanation in her hand?'

He was furiously angry; the whiplash of his words tore at her defences,

ripping them to shreds. 'Damn you,' he swore softly. 'Damn you to hell.'

He looked capable of anything, and she took an involuntary step backwards

from the sheer force- field of his rage. 'Right at this moment, it would give

me the utmost pleasure to wring your slender neck.' He appeared to rein in

his temper with visible effort. 'What surgical procedure?' he demanded

grimly. 'What's wrong with her?'

With a voice that shook slightly she relayed the details, watching with

detached fascination as he scrawled a series of letters and numbers with

firm, swift strokes on to a notepad.

'Your
address and telephone number.' The underlying threat of anger was

almost a palpable force. She could sense it, almost
feel
its intensity, and she

felt impossibly afraid.

It took considerable effort to maintain an aura of calm, but she managed it.

'Your assurance that Ann-Marie's medical expenses will be met is all that's

necessary.'

His eyes caught hers and held them captive, and she shivered at the

ruthlessness apparent in their depths. 'You can't believe I'll hand over a

cheque and let you walk out of here?' he said with deadly softness, and a

cold hand suddenly clutched at her heart and squeezed hard.

'I'll make every attempt to pay you back,' Carly ventured stiffly, and saw his

eyes harden.

'I intend that you shall.' His voice was velvet- encased steel, and caused the

blood in her veins to chill.

A knock at the door provided an unexpected intrusion, and Carly cast him a

startled glance as his secretary entered the room and placed a laden tray

down on to the coffee-table. It said much for the secretary's demeanour that

she gave no visible indication of having seen the deposed picture frame or

the glass that lay scattered on the carpet.

Carly watched the woman's movements as she poured aromatic coffee from

a steaming pot into two cups and removed clear plastic film from a plate of

delectable sandwiches.

'Contact Bryan Thorpe, Renate,' Stefano instructed smoothly. 'Extend my

apologies and reschedule our meeting for Monday.'

Renate didn't blink. 'Yes, of course.' She straightened from her task, her

smile practised and' polite as she turned and left the room.

Carly eyed the sandwiches with longing, aware that the last meal she'd eaten

was breakfast. The coffee was tempting, and she lifted the cup to her lips

with both hands, took a savouring sip, then shakily replaced it down on to

the saucer.

The need to escape this room was almost as imperative as her desire to

escape the man who occupied it, for despite her resolve his presence had an

alarming effect on her equilibrium, stirring alive an entire gamut of

emotions, the foremost of which was fear. The feeling was so intense that all

her senses seemed elevated, heightened to a degree where she felt her entire

body was a finely tuned instrument awaiting the maestro's touch. Which was

crazy—insane.

'There's no need to cancel your appointment,' she told him with more

courage than she felt, and she collected her bag and slid the strap over one

shoulder in a silent indication of her intention to leave.

'Where do you think you're going?' Stefano said in a deadly soft voice, and

she looked at him carefully, aware of the aura of strength, the indomitable

power apparent, and experienced a stirring of alarm.

'Home.'

'I intend to see her.'

The words threw her off balance, and she went suddenly still. 'No,' she

denied, stricken by the image of father and daughter meeting for the first

time, the effect it would have on Ann-Marie. 'I don't want the disruption

your presence will have on her life,' she offered shakily.

'Or yours,' he declared with uncanny perception. His eyes were hard, his

expression inexorable. 'Yet you must have known that once I was aware of

the facts there could be no way I'd allow you to escape unscathed?'

A shiver shook her slim frame; she was all too aware that she was dealing

with a man whose power was both extensive and far-reaching. Only a fool

would underestimate him, and right now he looked as if he'd like to shake

her until she begged for mercy.

'There is nothing you can do to prevent me from walking out of here,' she

said stiltedly.

'I want my daughter, Carly,' he declared in a voice that was implacable,

emotionless, and totally without pity. 'Either we effect a reconciliation and

resume our marriage, or I'll seek legal custody through court action. The

decision is yours.'

A well of anger rose to the surface at his temerity. 'You have no right,' Carly

retaliated fiercely. 'No--'

'You have until tomorrow to make up your mind.' He stroked a series of

digits on to paper, tore it from its block, and handed it to her. 'You can reach

me on this number.'

'Blackmail is a criminal offence!'

'I have stated my intention and given you a choice,' he said hardly, and her

eyes glittered with rage.

'I refuse to consider a mockery of a marriage, with a husband who divides

his time between a wife and a mistress!'

His eyes narrowed, and Carly met his gaze with fearless disregard. 'Don't

bother attempting to deny it,' she advised with deep-seated bitterness. 'There

was a succession of so-called friends and social acquaintances who took

delight in ensuring I heard the latest gossip. One, in particular, had access to

a Press-clipping service, and never failed to ensure that I received

conclusive proof of your infidelity.'

'Your obsession with innuendo and supposition hasn't diminished,' Stefano

dismissed with deadly softness.

'Nor has my hatred of you!'

His smile was a mere facsimile, and she was held immobile by the

dangerous glitter in his eyes, the peculiar stillness of his stance. 'It says

something for your maternal devotion that you managed to overcome it

sufficiently to confront me.'

Angry, futile tears diminished her vision, and she blinked furiously to dispel

them. 'Only because there was no other option!'

Without a word she turned and walked to the door, uncaring whether he

attempted to stop her or not.

He didn't move, and she walked down the carpeted hallway to Reception,

her head held high, pride forcing a faint smile as she inclined a slight nod to

the girl manning the switchboard before sweeping out to the foyer.

A lift arrived within seconds of being summoned, and it wasn't until she

reached ground level that reaction began to set in.

CHAPTER THREE

IT TOOK an hour for Carly to reach Manly, and she uttered a silent prayer of

thanks to whoever watched over her as she traversed the car-choked arterial

roads leading north from the city. Concentration was essential, and her own

was in such a state of serious disarray that it was a minor miracle her sedan

survived the drive intact.

Sarah answered the door at once, and Carly cast her a grateful glance as she

entered her friend's apartment.

'Thanks for collecting Ann-Marie. I got held up, and the traffic slowed to a

complete halt in places.'

'Sarah read me a story, and we watched television. I've already had my bath,'

Ann-Marie informed her as she ran into her mother's outstretched arms.

Carly hugged the small body close, and felt the onset of emotion-packed

tears. For more than six years she'd fought tooth and nail to support them

both without any outside financial assistance. Soon that would change, and

she wasn't sure she'd ever be ready for the upheaval Stefano Alessi would

cause in their lives.

'Would you like some coffee?' Sarah queried. Til put the kettle on.'

Carly shot her friend a distracted smile. 'Why not come over and share our

meal?' It was the least she could do, and besides, it would be lovely tohave

company. Then she would have less time alone in whiqh to think.

Sarah looked suitably regretful. 'I'd love to, but I'm going out tonight.'

Carly glimpsed the indecision apparent, the pensive brooding evident in

Sarah's lovely blue eyes.

'I take it this isn't the usual casual meal shared with a female friend?' she

queried slowly. 'Who's the lucky man?'

'A doctor who performed emergency surgery several months ago while I

was on night duty. He's recently moved south from Cairns. We ran into each

other a few days later, in the supermarket of all places, and we chatted. Then

I saw him again at the hospital.' She paused, and effected a faint shrugging

gesture. 'He's...' She paused, searching for the right words. 'Easy to talk to, I

guess. Last week he asked me out to dinner.' Her eyes clouded, then

deepened to cerulean blue. 'I said yes at the time, but now I'm not so sure.'

Aware that Sarah's disastrous first marriage and subsequent messy divorce

had left her with a strong dislike and distrust of men, almost to the point

where she refused to have anything to do with them other than in a

professional capacity, Carly could only wonder at the man who had

managed to break through her friend's defences.

'I'm delighted for you,' she declared with genuine sincerity.

'I'm terrified for me,' Sarah acknowledged wryly as she filled both mugs

with boiling water.

The aroma of instant coffee was no substitute for the real thing, but the hot,

sweet brew had a necessary reviving effect and Carly sipped the contents of

her mug with appreciative satisfaction.

'What time is he picking you up?'

'Seven.' An entire gamut of emotions chased fleetingly across Sarah's

attractive features. 'I'm going to ring him and cancel.'

If he was at all intuitive, he would have deliberately left his answering

machine off with just this possibility in mind, Carly reflected as Sarah

crossed to the telephone and punched out the requisite digits, only to listen

and replace the receiver.

'Damn. Now what am I going to do?'

Carly viewed her with twinkling solemnity. 'Go out with him.'

'I can't. I'm nuts,' Sarah wailed.
'Nuts'
Her expression assumed a sudden

fierceness. 'If the situation were reversed, would
you
go out with another

man?'

Her heart lurched, then settled into an accelerated beat in the knowledge that

she would soon be inextricably involved with someone she'd sworn never to

have anything to do with again, coerced by a set of circumstances that

denied any freedom of choice. Yet her academic mind demanded

independent legal verification of Stefano's threat of custody, even as logic

reasoned that in a court of law the odds would be heavily stacked against

Stefano being denied access to his daughter. Tomorrow was Saturday, but

there was a friend she could contact outside office hours who would relay

the vital information she needed.

'Carly?'

She proffered a faint smile in silent apology and shook her head. 'Not all

men are made from the same mould as our respective first husbands,' she

managed, evading Sarah's close scrutiny as she lifted the mug to her lips and

sipped from it.

'When he arrives, I'll tell him I've changed my mind,' Sarah declared, and,

placing a light hand on Carly's arm, she queried softly, 'Are you OK?'

There was no time for confidences, and Carly wasn't sure she was ready to

share Stefano's ultimatum with anyone. 'I'm fine,' she assured quietly as she

deliberately forced a slight smile. 'Let me give Ann-Marie dinner, then I'll

come and help with your hair.'

Sarah shot her a dark musing glance. 'He's seen me in denim shorts, a

T-shirt, trainers, and no make-up.' Her expression became faintly

speculative as she took in the paleness of Carly's features, the edge of

tension apparent. 'Give me twenty minutes to shower and change.'

Once in her own apartment, it took only a few minutes to heat the casserole

she'd prepared the previous evening, and although Ann-Marie ate well Carly

BOOK: Passion's Mistress
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