Seduced by Innocence (8 page)

“If you were a brave man—what would you do?” Terri asked curiously.

“What’s the point of talking about it?” Bruno said with a sigh. “I’m not brave and I’m getting old. I like to sleep soft and know where my next meal’s coming from. When I was younger, it was different.”

“Bruno, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Terri said, half laughing, half worried. There was an edge on his voice that puzzled her because it sounded like self-loathing.

“Of course you don’t,” he said, smiling again. “No matter. Here, take these.” He pushed the bag of masks toward her. “I bought them for you.”

“For me? That was sweet of you.”

“A young woman always needs masks. At your age, you’re making the great decisions of your life—who will be your lover, perhaps your husband? Who will father your children? Who can tell who you may need to be while you’re making your choice?”

“Thank you. I’m going to enjoy playing with them.”

“It’s not a game, Teresa. Remember, you won’t be the only one in disguise. The other masks are more dangerous for being invisible.” He drained his glass and refilled it. “A man pursuing a vendetta always hides his true face,” he observed to nobody in particular.

“Bruno,” she said, laughing, “you’re tipsy.”

“So I am. So I am. Well, well.”

“In any case, who’d pursue a vendetta against me? I’ve done nobody any harm.”

He regarded her gravely. “I think you’ve never harmed anyone in your entire life, or ever would. You are generous, gentle and honest, and I pray God that life treats you in such a way that you can stay like that.”

“You’re
very
tipsy.”

“How do you know? How do you know it isn’t simply another mask? A tipsy man is forgiven much that would get a sober one a kick in the rear.” His manner was so droll that Terri collapsed in laughter. “Let’s have something to eat,” he said.

“I should be going.”

Bruno had leaned back so that his face was half in shadow, and for a moment Terri almost thought he really was wearing a mask. His mouth grinned blandly, but his eyes were no more than dark sockets, revealing nothing. “What’s the hurry?” he asked casually. “Are you and Maurizio spending the evening together?”

“No, he’s entertaining important business clients.”

“Then we can have a little supper. Giorgio, your best pizza and another bottle.”

An hour later, replete with pizza and red wine, they strolled out together and through the dark streets toward the Midas. Bruno had an inexhaustible fund of funny stories and he regaled Terri with them until her sides ached. They were laughing together, arms entwined, as they turned the last corner before the Midas. Then their laughter died abruptly.

Maurizio stood there, murder in his eyes.

“Good evening,” Bruno sang out.

Maurizio ignored him. His eyes pierced Terri. “Where the devil have you been?” he demanded. He was paler than she’d ever seen him.

“I’ve been walking home.”

“Until this hour? I know how long it takes to walk from the Palazzo Calvani.”

“So I took a bit longer,” Terri said, getting annoyed at his manner. “So what? I’m not answerable to you for the time I take, am I?”

“I went to meet you and missed you by a few minutes. I came back to wait for you, and when you didn’t arrive on time, I thought you’d got lost. I thought of all the things that could have happened to you in the dark byways of this city.”

“Nothing happened. I met Bruno, we had a pizza and then walked home.”

“How are your business guests?” Bruno asked with a glance at Maurizio’s elegant attire. “Surely you’re not neglecting them?”

Maurizio threw him a sulphurous glance. “I was about to send out a search party,” he said through gritted teeth.

Bruno smiled seraphically. “In that case, my dear boy, it’s as well that we arrived before you made yourself look so foolish,” he said. “Signorina Teresa, let me thank you for a most charming evening. I’ll say good-night now. Don’t forget to take these.” He handed her the bagful of masks. “You’ll need them sooner than you think.”

He floated past them into the hotel. Terri tried to follow him but Maurizio stopped her with a hand on her arm. “I don’t like being made to look foolish, Teresa,” he said quietly.

She was still cross. “In that case, it’s a pity you got upset about nothing. Who do you think you are to talk to me like this in a public place, or any place? Now I want to go inside, so kindly get out of my way this minute.”

“Are you giving me orders?” Maurizio demanded, his eyes kindling.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”

“And what do you think gives you the right?”

“The fact that I’m paying to stay here,” she snapped. “You’re the hotelier, I’m a guest in your establishment and I don’t like the way you’re behaving. In fact, I’ll probably make a complaint to the management.”

She took advantage of his surprise to slip past him and into the hotel. Maurizio drew a long breath to get his temper under control but he knew he was angry with himself more than her. He’d spent the last few hours in hell, terrified lest something had happened to her. His reason had told him that she was probably exploring, but it was hard to listen to reason when his heart was hammering with dread. The last time he’d felt such overwhelming fear was when Rufio had gone missing, and he’d started the search that had led to his young brother’s dead body. And then she’d strolled into view, arm in arm with his roguish uncle, and laughed at him.

With a muttered oath, he went swiftly into the Midas and headed for his office, where Bruno was pouring himself a large brandy. “I thought I’d find you here,” Maurizio said grimly.

“And I knew you’d be looking for me, nephew, so I made myself easy to find. But let’s be quick. You shouldn’t neglect your clients.”

“I put my clients off,” Maurizio said grimly.

“But I thought a lucrative deal hung on tonight?”

“It did.”

“And you risked losing it? My dear boy, welcome to the human race.”

Maurizio’s eyes glittered. “I’m warning you, don’t push me too far. You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

“I bumped into Teresa by accident....”

“And keeping her out so late—was that an accident?”

“You’re not her father or her keeper.”

“I have reasons for wanting her kept safe—”

“But are they the reasons you think they are?”

“What do you mean?”

“When did you last disappoint business clients?”

“I’m not bandying words about,” Maurizio said furiously. “Just tell me—do I have a single secret left?”

“You mean, did I tell her what you’re really up to? No, I didn’t. I should have, but I didn’t. I wasn’t brave enough.”

Some of the tension went out of Maurizio’s face. “That was very wise of you. I strongly advise you to go on not being brave.”

He walked out. Bruno poured himself another brandy and regarded it thoughtfully. “But showing you your own heart is another matter, nephew,” he murmured. “I’m brave enough for
that.
”

* * *

Playing with masks, Terri discovered, was as exciting as being a child opening a present. She tried them on one by one, the silver tinsel one, the black and gold one, the scarlet satin, the white mask with the huge nose.

She returned to the silver half mask with a glittering fringe, and fixed it into place. Suddenly, the door opened and Maurizio came quietly into her room. He approached her without speaking and Terri stayed quite still. His eyes were fixed on the mask. “Columbine,” he said in a strange voice. “A cunning minx to tempt a man’s soul away. Or just another coquette, teasing him to perdition. Which are you?”

“Which do you think?” she whispered.

“I think you’re playing games with me, Teresa—mocking me—and that makes me angry.”

“Is it forbidden to mock you, Maurizio?” she asked from behind the safety of the silver tinsel. “Is there a law about it?”

“No, but it’s—dangerous.”

Suddenly, she knew that there really was something in the old superstition Bruno had told her about. A mask altered the wearer deep down, not merely on the surface. She’d changed into a woman who wasn’t afraid of danger, not this kind. “You
terrify
me,” she said theatrically.

“That’s enough,” he said harshly.

“No, it isn’t. Not until Columbine says so.” She whirled away from him and went to regard her new self in the mirror. A stranger looked back at her, a brilliant, confident stranger who could take this man on, and win. “Bruno was right,” she murmured.

Maurizio came up behind her. “What did Bruno say?”

“Oh, lots of things. Very few of them made sense.”

“But some of them must have. What did he say, Teresa?”

She shrugged. The tension in Maurizio had communicated itself to her. This controlled man was on the rack and she felt a heady exhilaration in keeping him there. Prim, proper Terri had become a coquette and the pleasure was exquisite.

Maurizio laid his hands on her shoulders and spoke in a quiet voice that held a faint echo of menace. “What did Bruno say?”

“A million things. I can’t remember them all.”

“But you remember one well enough to think he was right about it. What was Bruno right about?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Teresa, don’t do this....”

“Why shouldn’t I if I want to?”

He dropped his head and laid his lips against her neck. “Don’t do this,” he murmured. “Tell me what I want to know.”

The excitement of his touch was so fierce that it almost drove everything else from her head. But a small, obstinate part of her refused to relinquish the fun of teasing him. “What do you want to know?” she murmured.

“What did Bruno say?”

She shrugged, laughing at him. “I’ve forgotten.”

“Teresa...”

“Why does it matter, anyway?”

Maurizio knew it was madness to reveal that he was troubled, but he couldn’t help himself. She was bewitching, tempting, tormenting, and it was suddenly vital to bring her under his control. “Tell me,” he repeated.

“Why, Maurizio?” With a flash of inspiration, she added, “What are you
afraid
he said to me?”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked tensely.

“I think you must have some dark secret. What is it? Won’t you tell Columbine?”

“Is that who you are?”

“It’s who I am at this moment, but in a few minutes I may be someone else.” Quick as a flash, she whirled away from him, snatched off the silver mask and donned another, covered in black sequins and edged with gold. “Who am I now, Maurizio?”

“Someone I don’t know,” he growled.

“Well, perhaps that’s as it should be. Why should you always know who I am? Do you let me know who you are? Right now, for instance. Are you in my room as the proprietor of this hotel, or someone else? What’s
your
mask?”

He drew in his breath at how close she’d come to his dangerous secret. “Someone else,” he said. “Someone who was concerned for your safety and who’s getting precious little thanks for it.”

She laughed and it was like the glitter of clear water. “I don’t need watching over. I’m perfectly safe.”

He had a mad instinct to shout that she wasn’t safe at all. She was the victim of a man who was using her to exact revenge, and she should escape him while she could. Then he remembered that he
was
that man, and he rubbed his eyes in total, enraged confusion.

When he lifted his head again, the black mask had been replaced by a half mask of scarlet satin, from behind which she studied him in enchanting mockery. “All right, I’ll tell you,” she said. “Bruno said it was an old Venetian superstition that a mask didn’t just help you pretend to be someone else. It actually made you that person. And he was right.”

“Was he?” Relief made it difficult to speak.

“Well, at this moment I feel I’ve turned into another woman—one who’s got you in a spin.” It had to be true, she thought. There was no other way to explain the intoxicating courage that enabled her to provoke this man and enjoy it. “Haven’t I, Maurizio?”

He took her by the shoulders. “Do you think I’d admit it if you had?” he demanded thickly.

She laughed up into his face from behind the red satin. “I think you
are
admitting it.”

His answer was to pull her against him, looking into her face for a moment before he covered her lips with his own. “Is this what you wanted to know?” he growled against her mouth.

“Yes,” she murmured. “This is exactly what I wanted to know.”

There was anger and a kind of desperation in his kiss, but they only added to her exhilaration. The scarlet mask was doing its work, making her a woman of shameless appetites, who was willing to reach out to the man she wanted and return his kiss with interest. She wove her fingers through his hair and drew him closer. He trembled as though he was taken aback. But not for long. Suddenly, his tongue was in her mouth, exploring her desperately and wreaking havoc with her senses.

He urged her toward the bed and she went with him naturally. She lay back in his arms, her breathing coming deeper, her breasts rising and falling as he began to open the buttons of her shirt. When he slipped his hand inside, a long sigh escaped her. It was unbelievably good. His fingers contained magic. They could set off sparks that flashed all over her body, to her fingers and toes, to her loins. It felt almost wicked to experience such pleasure.

The touch of his tongue on her peaked nipple made another sigh escape her, and she arched instinctively. No man had ever touched her breasts before. Shame had always made her fend them off before this point. But with Maurizio, her shame seemed to vanish, leaving only desire behind. She was possessed by feelings that were completely new to her, and she wanted more.

He raised his head, leaving his hand there to caress her subtly. It wasn’t enough. She wanted the feeling of his purposeful tongue, curling around her nipple, teasing it back and forth, driving her wild with pleasure. “Why have you stopped?” she gasped.

“I wasn’t sure it was what you wanted,” he murmured.

“Oh yes! Yes, Maurizio.
Yes—
”

He bent his head again and she groaned with shameless pleasure. She trembled at the physical delight he could give her and which took her to the edge of a new world.