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Authors: Helen Bianchin

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able to control her surprise as Ann-Marie allowed Stefano to transfer her

into his arms without protest.

Ann-Marie fought against encroaching lassitude as they made their way

indoors, and by the time Stefano deposited her gently down on to the bed she

was asleep.

His eyes were dark and slightly hooded as he watched Carly deftly remove

the little girl's shoes then draw up a light cover before crossing to the

window to close the curtains.

'She just needs to rest,' she said quietly. 'She'll be all right in an hour or two.'

Carly turned and walked from the room, supremely conscious of a distinct

prickling sensation feathering her spine as he followed close behind.

It was damnable to be so aware of him, and in the hallway she quickened her

step towards the main suite. 'I'll begin unpacking.' Her voice sounded

incredibly stilted and polite, almost dismissing, for he had the power to

ruffle her composure more than she was prepared to admit.

Their combined luggage was stacked neatly on the floor, and her eyes swept

the room, hating the invidious position in which she'd been placed and the

man who deliberately sought to put her there.

'Afraid, Carly?' a deep voice drawled from behind, and she turned slowly to

face him, her eyes steady.

'You intend me to be,' she said with hesitation, aware of an inner resentment.

'This is part of a diabolical game, isn't it?' she flared, on a verbal

rollercoaster. 'Separate beds, but having to share the same room. An
en suite

with no lock, ensuring you can invade my privacy any time you choose.' A

degree of bitterness made itself apparent. 'And you will choose, won't you,

Stefano? Just for the hell of it.' Her eyes darkened measurably, the gold

flecks appearing like chips of topaz against brown velvet. 'Don't ever

mistake your bed for mine,' she warned with deadly softness. 'I'd mark you

for life.'

His gaze raked hers, harsh and unrelenting. 'Be grateful I've allowed you a

separate bed,' he drawled smoothly. 'It wasn't my original intention.'

Her heart lurched, then missed a beat as sensation unfurled deep within her,

the pain so acute that she almost gasped at its intensity. For one horrifying

moment she held a clear vision of their bodies locked in lovemaking, aware

that if he chose to take her now it would be a violation motivated by revenge.

Her eyes grew large, expressing a mixture of shock and anger, yet she

refused to be subjugated to him in any way. 'Rape, even between husband

and wife,' she reminded stiltedly, 'is a criminal offence.'

Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, then it was successfully

masked. 'You know me well enough to understand that rape would never be

a consideration.'

No, she thought shakily. He was too skilled a lover to harm his partner with

any form of physical pain. His revenge would be infinitely more subtle.

As it had been on one previous occasion, when she'd driven him to anger

with a heated accusation she'd refused to retract or explain, and he had

simply hauled her unceremoniously over his shoulder and carried her into

the bedroom where he had conducted a deliberate leisurely assault on her

senses until she was on fire with a desire so intense that she had possessed no

reason, no sanity, only base animal need and a wild driven hunger for the

release that only he could give. Except that he had taken pleasure in making

her wait until she was reduced to begging unashamedly like a craven wanton

caught in the throes of some primeval force, and then, only then, had he

taken her with a merciless mastery that knew no bounds in a totally erotic

plundering of her senses. With no energy left to move, she'd drifted into

sleep, only to waken in the early morning hours, where self-loathing had

surfaced, and a degree of shame. It had been the catalyst that had motivated

her to leave.

Carly shivered suddenly, hating him more than she thought it was possible

to hate anyone, and she watched in silence as he crossed to a concealed wall-

safe, activated the mechanism, then removed a small jeweller's box before

covering the distance between with calm, leisurely steps.

'Your rings,' Stefano declared, extracting the exquisite square-cut diamond

with its baguette-cut diamond mounting, and its matching band.

Surprise momentarily widened her eyes as she recalled tearing both from her

finger in a fit of angry rage. 'You kept them?'

His gaze was remarkably steady. 'What did you expect me to do with them?'

She was lost for words, her mobile features hauntingly expressive for a few

seconds before she schooled them into restrained reserve, unable in the few

ensuing seconds to make any protest as he took hold of her left hand and slid

both rings in place.

Of their own volition her fingers sought the large stone, twisting it back and

forth in a gesture that betrayed an inner nervousness.

His proximity disturbed her more than she was prepared to admit, and she

was aware of a watchful quality in his stance, an intentness so overpowering

that she felt almost afraid.

Her whole body stirred, caught up in a web of sensuality so acute that it

seemed as if every vein, every nerve cell in her body flamed in electrifying

recognition of
his,
which was totally opposite to the dictates of her brain.

To continue standing here like this was madness, and without a further word

she turned away from him, crossing to her luggage to begin the chore of

unpacking.

Carly's movements were steady and unhurried as she placed clothes on

hangers in a capacious walk-in wardrobe, and she was aware of the instant

he turned and left the room.

Dinner was a simple meal comprising minestrone followed by pasta, and

afterwards Sylvana served coffee in the informal lounge.

Settling Ann-Marie to bed was achieved without fuss, and Stefano willingly

agreed to his daughter's request to listen to a bedtime story.

A novelty, Carly assured herself as she chose the opposite side of

Ann-Marie's bed, conscious that she was the focus of two pair of eyes—one

pair loving and direct, the other musing and faintly speculative.

Forget he's there, a tiny voice prompted as she picked up the book and began

to read. Who do you think you're kidding? another derided.

Somehow Carly managed to inject her voice with its customary warmth and

enthusiasm, and she had almost finished when Ann-Marie's eyes fluttered

down.

Minutes later Stefano rose quietly to his feet and waited at the door for Carly

to precede him from the room.

'Does she usually wake in the night?' he queried as they neared the head of

the stairs, and Carly shook her head.

'Very rarely.' She was a nervous wreck, she had a headache, and all she

wanted to do was have a long leisurely shower, then slip into bed. She said

as much, adding, 'I'll drop Ann-Marie at school in the morning, then go into

the office for a few hours.'

'Clive Mathorpe isn't expecting you,' Stefano drawled, and she felt a
frisson

of alarm at his longhard glance. 'I've already enlightened him that his highly

regarded Carly Taylor is Carly Taylor
Alessi!

Anger surged to the surface at his highhandedness. 'How dare you?' she

vented in softly voiced fury. 'I am quite capable of telling him myself!'

'As my wife, there's no necessity for you to work. Your first priority lies with

Ann-Marie.' The velvet smoothness in his voice should have been sufficient

warning, but she was too stubborn to take any heed.

'I agree,' she conceded, determined to win points against him. 'However, as

she'll be at school from eight forty-five until two-thirty, I don't see why I

shouldn't spend those hours delegating work to whoever will take my place

over the next few weeks.'

'I'll allow you tomorrow,' Stefano agreed hardly. 'But that's all.'

'Don't begin dictating what I can and can't do!' Carly said fiercely. She felt

defensive, and very, very angry. 'And don't you
dare
imply that I'm an

irresponsible mother! What sort of father will
you
be?' she demanded. 'It

isn't nearly enough to provide a child with a beautiful home and numerous

possessions. The novelty soon wears off when you can't be present at the

school fete, or attend the end-of- year play.' Her eyes flashed with fiery

topaz as her anger deepened. 'What happens next week, the week after that,

and all the long months ahead?' she queried fiercely. 'You'll be too busy

jetting off to God knows where, cementing yet another multimillion-dollar

deal. When you
are
home, you'll probably leave in the morning before she

wakes, and return long after she's given up any hope of catching a glimpse of

you. How am I going to explain that your liaison with fatherhood will be

conducted by remote control?'

His eyes were dark and unfathomable, and she was aware of a degree of

anger apparent. 'Why are you so sure it will be?'

'Because you lead such a high-profile existence,' she flung in cautiously. 'It

can't be any other way, damn you!'

He looked at her in silence for what seemed an age, and it was all she could

do to hold his gaze. Yet she wouldn't subvert her own beliefs in deference to

a man whose credo was different from her own.

'Tell me, are you staging a fight as a matter of principle, or merely as an

attempt to vent some of your rage?'

'Both!'

'With any clear thought to the consequences?' Stefano pursued, his eyes

never leaving hers for a second.

'Don't you dare threaten me!'

One dark eyebrow rose in cynical query. 'If you imagine I'll take any

invective you choose to throw in my direction without retaliation, you're

mistaken,' he warned silkily.

Carly felt as if she was on a rollercoaster leading all the way down to hell.

'I'm damned if I'll play happy families at a flick of your fingers!'

'I doubt you'll do or say anything to upset Ann- Marie.'

He was right. She wouldn't. Yet she desperately wanted to hit out at him for

invading her life and turning it upside-down.

'Do you enjoy the power it gives you to use my daughter as an excuse to

blackmail me?'

'Are you making an allegation?' Stefano countered in a voice that would

have quelled an adversary.

For a few fateful seconds they seemed* locked in silent battle, and she felt as

if she was shattering into a thousand pieces. 'It's the truth!'

He stood regarding her in silence, his eyes darkly inscrutable, yet there was

an air of leashed anger apparent, a sense of control that was almost

frightening.

'Quit while you're ahead, Carly.'

She felt the need to be free of him, and preferably alone. For a few hours at

least. 'I'm going to take a shower and watch television for a while.'

One eyebrow rose fractionally. 'A desire for solitude?'

'I'm off duty,' she declared, uncaring of his reaction.

'Careful with your claws, my little cat,' Stefano warned softly. 'Or I may

choose to unsheathe my own.'

There was nothing she could add, so she didn't even try. Instead, she turned

and walked towards their suite, and once inside she carefully closed the

door.

He didn't follow, and she moved into the
en suite
and shed her clothes, then

took a long shower, and, towelled dry, she pulled on a thin cotton shift and

emerged into the bedroom, to stand hesitantly, unsure which of the two beds

she should occupy.

Dammit, she swore softly. With her luck, she'd choose the wrong one, and

then Stefano would be cynically amused by her mistake.

There was only one solution, and she caught up a towelling robe and slid it

on, then walked through to the sitting-room, activated the television, and

sank into a comfortable chair.

If necessary, she determined vengefully, she'd sleep here, rather than slip

into the wrong bed!

Sunday evening television offered the choice of three movies, an intellectual

book review, or a play spoken entirely in Hungarian. A karate-kickboxer

epic wasn't her preferred viewing, nor was a terminator blockbuster, and she

wasn't in the mood for a chilling thriller. After switching channels several

times, she simply selected one for the sake of it and allowed her attention to

wander.

At some stage she must have dozed, for she was aware of a strange sense of

weightlessness, a desire to sink more comfortably into arms that seemed

terribly familiar.

A small sigh escaped her lips, and she burrowed her face into the curve of a

hard, muscular shoulder, then lifted her hands to encircle a male neck.

It felt so good, so
right
, and she murmured her appreciation. Her lips

touched against warm skin, moving involuntarily as they savoured a texture

BOOK: Passion's Mistress
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