Stephanie's Castle (15 page)

As she pulled
the dark blue evening dress over the teddy Colette walked back into
the room. The transformation from the sweaty labourer toiling in
the vineyards to a beautiful and sophisticated creature was
complete. Making no concessions to her height she had selected
high-heeled shoes to match the dress. She had pinned her hair up to
leave her long neck and shoulders completely bare, making the
strapless dress seem even more revealing. Her firm breasts were
clearly outlined by the clinging scarlet fabric, as was the curve
of her arse.

'Well?' she
said, turning a full circle in front of Stephanie.

'Stunning,'
Stephanie replied, and meant it.

Stephanie
smoothed down her own dress and went to stand by Colette. They
gazed into the full-length mirror. The skirt of Stephanie's dress
was longer than Colette's but the split, cleverly designed to be
hidden until movement of the thigh caused it to open, made it no
less attractive. The dress was tight to the waist following the
line of her breasts but styled to cover one shoulder while leaving
the other exposed. They were the perfect combination: blonde in
red, brunette in blue, two stunningly attractive women dressed to
the nines.

But something
was missing, Stephanie decided as she looked at Colette in the
mirror. Going through the small amount of jewellery she had brought
with her, she found a gold necklace and clipped it into place
around Colette's neck. The effect accentuated the graceful hollows
above her collarbone. Stephanie chose only earrings for
herself.

'Let's go
then,' she said.

'What happens
if this doesn't work?'

'Your guess is
as good as mine,' Stephanie said, knowing it to be true. Stephanie
would have preferred to be going down to dinner with Devlin alone.
Gianni's presence was intrusive, but, she had to admit, it also
added an extra dimension of excitement and interest. There was
definitely no way to predict how this evening was going to end.

The clack of
high heels on the marble staircase must I have alerted Devlin and
Gianni. By the time the two women were halfway down the stairs,
both men were standing at the foot of the staircase waiting to
greet them. From this position there was no doubt they were getting
a worm's eye view of two pairs of unrivalled legs expensively clad
in nylon and leather. In Colette's case they could probably see a
great deal more.

'Bravo!
Bravo!' Gianni shouted, beginning to clap his hands. Devlin rather
self-consciously joined in.

'Magnificent,'
Devlin said quietly to Stephanie as she reached the bottom of the
stairs and he took her hand.

'Thank you,'
she replied. She turned to Gianni.

'This is
Colette, a friend of mine from England,' she lied.

'Charmed, Colette,' Gianni said, taking her hand and kissing
it lasciviously, no doubt using the same technique he had used on
Stephanie on the jetty. 'I love English. Did Stephanie tell you?
All things English. I'm English-craz
ee
.'

He was looking
hard at Stephanie as he said this, looking at her, it seemed, as
though he saw straight through her little plot.

'And there's
something about Italian men makes me feel funny in all sorts of
places,' Colette was saying, her Cockney accent suddenly more
pronounced.

Gianni turned
to Stephanie and took her hand. He kissed it perfunctorily, letting
it go as soon as his lips had grazed the skin of her fingers.

'To you I must
owe an apology. I behave very badly indeed. Please I want that you
forgive me.'

'Forgiven and
forgotten,' Stephanie said catching Devlin's eye. Whether this
change of mind was genuine or not she did not know. But at least
he'd said it. And it was possible that he meant it.

'Good. Then we
can be friends,' he said.

Gianni wrapped
his arm around Colette's waist and led her into the dining room,
his hand quickly slipping down from the small of her back to the
cheeks of her arse, feeling them move as she walked.

'Well, that's
a good sign,' Stephanie whispered to Devlin. 'So far, so good. She
looks stunning.'

'Do you want
her?'

'My dear, I
want only you. This business has spoilt all my plans. I didn't want
to have to share you this evening. I wanted you to myself. Will you
ever forgive me?'

'I might.' She
tried to look stern but then broke into a smile. Two pleas for
forgiveness in as many minutes. 'Incidentally, I had to promise
her...'

'Anything. If
she can get Gianni out of our hair, anything.'

'I have
something special for our aperitif,' Devlin announced when they
were installed in chairs around the roaring fire in the dining
room. 'A bottle of 1952 Dom Perignon.'

A white-coated
waiter poured the wine into the flutes, handling the bottle as
though it contained nitro-glycerine. The wine had lost most of its
bubbles but had matured to a deep golden colour.

'To our mutual
health,' Devlin toasted.

Stephanie
could not remember tasting anything so delicious. She savoured the
subtle taste, sipping the wine from the flute and watching Devlin
do the same. 'Delicious.'

'It's the last
bottle, and I've been saving it for a special occasion,' he said,
looking only at Stephanie.

Gianni and
Colette were less judicious, gulping back the wine as if it were
Coca-Cola.

'How long have
you been friends?' Gianni asked in a tone Stephanie thought was
edged with suspicion.

'Oh, years...'
Stephanie lied.

'But you talk
differently.'

'I'm a
Cockney, see,' Colette volunteered.

'But you are
both beautiful. It is very unusual to have two beautiful women as
friends. Usually it is one beautiful and one very ugly. The horse
and the donkey. No?'

'Doesn't he
say the nicest things?' Colette said, leaning over to kiss Gianni's
cheek while her hand pawed his thigh.

'Well,' Devlin
said, trying to change the subject, 'dinner is served.'

Devlin led
Stephanie to the dining table. It was now set for four. A huge
display of fresh flowers - obviously from the kitchen garden -
decorated the centre of the table. Gianni sat next to Colette,
facing Stephanie; Devlin next to Stephanie facing Colette. Before
them a vast array of crystal glasses and Georg Jensen silver
arranged neatly in place settings. Stephanie realised that she was
ravenously hungry, having eaten nothing since the light lunch on
the terrace. She accepted the proffered bread - there was a choice
of three and Stephanie chose the rough country bread Devlin
recommended - with alacrity, while another waiter offered mineral
water which she also accepted.

'In Gianni's honour tonight we have Italian specialities,'
Devlin said of the meal he had planned so carefully for Stephanie.
'
Pasta nero
with
white truffles from Alba. Our local fish from the lake
deep-fried
misto fritto
. And local veal roasted in wild rosemary with polenta. There
is a dolcelatta from Bologna and a special pudding. All guaranteed
to have no calories whatsoever.'

No wonder
there were so many knives and forks on the table, Stephanie
thought. It was not until her first taste of white truffle, thinly
pared on to the black pasta and accompanied by a fine Frascati,
that she realised her intimations of trouble were well founded. The
first sign was a shoe, rubbing gently against the top of her ankle.
Looking down through the glass tabletop it was not difficult to see
to whom the shoe belonged. It was one of Gianni's Gucci loafers.
Gianni himself was talking to Devlin, apparently oblivious to what
his foot was up to. Colette had seen what was going on too. The
women looked at each other over the table. Colette shrugged. She
was doing her best. Stephanie withdrew her foot to a point where it
was out of Gianni's reach. She watched as his foot searched around,
probing like the antenna of an ant, trying to re-establish contact.
Finally he gave up, though not without giving Stephanie a quick
glance and a knowing smile.

Course
followed course, each perfectly cooked, each accompanied by a
different classic Italian wine. Gianni ate greedily, stuffing the
food into his mouth as though he hadn't eaten for weeks and using
the wine, rather than the water, to wash it all down. Gianni's wine
glass seemed to be perpetually empty, despite being refilled by a
succession of conscientious waiters. And the alcohol was clearly
affecting him. The veneer of politeness he had adopted to Stephanie
at the beginning of the evening and the apparent interest in
Colette was wearing thin. He was staring at Stephanie all the time
now, no matter who he was talking to. He winked at her. He put his
hand across the table to touch hers. His foot snaked out to touch
hers the moment she inadvertently brought it back into range.
Whatever Colette had, Gianni did not want it; that was becoming
patently obvious. As the meal progressed the frown on Devlin's
forehead deepened. There was seemingly nothing that could be done
to drag Gianni's attention away from Stephanie and on to Colette.
The plan was not working.

The special
pudding was an amazing concoction of chocolate and cream and almond
biscuits, but it went largely uneaten except by Gianni, who cleaned
his plate of every morsel and then looked over at the amount left
on Stephanie's plate.

'You are
leaving this?' he asked, sounding astonished.

'Yes.'

'Do you mind?
It's too good for wasting.' His fork flashed out over the table and
scooped up most of the pudding from Stephanie's plate leaving a
trail of cream and chocolate, dropped from his ambitiously filled
spoon, between her plate and his.

'Colette has
some left,' Devlin said hopefully, but Gianni was not interested in
what Colette had on her plate.

'I want only
Stephanie's,' he said, flamboyantly throwing her a kiss across the
table.

'I'm hurt,'
Colette said, pouting her bottom lip in a manner that most men in
her life had found irresistible.

'No, no, my
dear.' Gianni put his arm around her bare shoulder and patted her
arm. 'You must excuse. I have eaten that much enough.'

'No,' Colette
continued trying her best. 'I'm hurt. What are you going to do to
make it up to me?'

'What can I
do?'

'Well, I can
think of a little something...' She leant forward and whispered in
his ear. But whatever she said did not produce the desired
effect.

'No, no!'
Gianni said like a petulant child whose toy was being taken away
from him for bad behaviour. 'I want to stay with my friends.'

Colette caught
Stephanie's eye and gave her a resigned look. What, more could she
do?

They took
coffee out on the terrace. The full moon had come out and was
perfectly reflected in the still black water of the lake. The
temperature was perfect, a balmy evening after a burningly hot day.
Stephanie stood alone looking over the silent water. In daylight it
was probably the most beautiful view she had ever seen. Now, at
night, with the great white moon, it seemed a more emotional
experience, as though the view signified something she should know
and understand. As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness she
could see faint lights in the far distance from the houses dotted
around the edge of the lake. Moths and fireflies flew into the
light from the lamps on the terrace. Apart from their frenzied
suicidal fluttering the night was completely still.

Colette had
taken Gianni's arm and forcefully steered him to a small outdoor
couch. His interest in her seemed to have been rekindled.

'You're the
sort of man that makes me feel... well, hot. I mean turned on.
There's something about you. Something like an animal... do you
know what I mean?' Her hand pressed into his lap, her fingers
actively searching for his cock. 'I don't usually feel like this.
Men are all over me usually and I don't want to know. But with
you... do you know what I mean?'

'You are a
beautiful creature.' Gianni meant it, too. She was exquisite.

'I'm glad you
think so.' Her fingers had found their objective. 'I hope you don't
think I do this all the time. It's just something you do to me.
Maybe it's your Eyetie accent...'

'Maybe. You
have a beautiful body too, I think.'

'I just have
this feeling, see. Makes me all funny inside. I just know what it
would be like with you. I don't think I'd be able to control
myself. You'd make me wild, Gianni.'

Tentatively
Gianni put his hand on her knee. The sheer nylon felt soft and warm
to his touch and he felt Colette shudder slightly and let out the
faintest of moans. He ran his hand higher up her leg. Her legs
parted.

'Oh, that's so
nice. You don't know how good that feels.'

'Your legs are
so long.'

He ran his
fingertips down between her thighs and then higher until he could
have sworn he felt the brush of hair against the side of his hand.
He investigated further, turning his fingertips inward and
discovering that the nylon did not extend over her thick bushy
pubic hair. Colette meantime was squeezing his cock which was
beginning to grow.

'Clever
design, isn't it?' she whispered. 'Nothing to get in the way. It's
making you hard, isn't it? Tell me what you want, darling...'
Colette was increasingly pleased with herself. At last her charms
were working. 'Anything. As long as you fuck me first. I'll do
anything. Tell me your fantasy, Gianni.'

Gianni was
more than tempted. She was a beautiful creature. He looked down at
the red dress, the material moulded to her breasts, and at her
sculpted, slender thighs. He knew he could ask her anything and she
would do it. He wished he didn't care, didn't care that Devlin was
treating him like a fool, taking him for a complete idiot. But he
did care and he knew himself too well to be tempted for long. In
the end where would he be, how would he feel, how could he look at
himself in the mirror in the morning if he took this girl to his
bed, a girl like any whore he could buy on the streets of Rome?
More beautiful perhaps, more skilled even, but no more than a
common whore nevertheless.