The Forced Bride (3 page)

and buried it deep in a drawer, then went slowly and reluctantly down to the drawing room.

‘Well’ Simon breathed into her ear. ‘Are you wearing them’

Emily looked down at herself—at the demure white silk shirt with its deep Puritan-style collar, and the ankle-length velvet

skirt in shades of dark blue and turquoise.

‘Er—no.’ She made her tone placatory. ‘They didn’t seem quite right—not under this.’

‘Well, maybe,’ he conceded moodily. ‘Tell me something, Em. Don’t you ever get tired of playing Daddy’s little girl

You’re past the age of consent, so isn’t it time you grew up and started being a woman My woman, in fact’

She gasped. ‘I thought we’d agreed to wait.’

‘And I’ve been waiting, for God’s sake. Have a heart, honey. I’m only human and I’m getting sick of walking away from

you with just an ache in my guts.’

Her cheeks warmed and she looked round in embarrassment. ‘Simon—keep your voice down. People will hear you.’

‘What are they going to hear That I want you That’ll come as no surprise to anyone in the neighbourhood—except

your father, maybe.’ He moved fractionally closer. ‘Isn’t there some way we can be together, sweetheart’

‘You mean this evening’ Emily was incredulous. ‘But I’m my father’s hostess. I can’t just—disappear. Besides, I’m

under orders to make sure that our house guest meets everyone,’ she added with a touch of bitterness.

‘You mean the tall Mediterranean job who’s been roaming round the village lately’ Simon snorted. ‘I wouldn’t worry

abouthim .’

‘But I have to worry. I was in trouble yesterday for spending time in my room when I should have been dancing

attendance on him. Daddy actually ticked me off about it, when I was on my way up to bed.’

She sighed. ‘So now I’m supposed to compensate for yesterday’s rudeness by looking after him tonight. Making sure

he’s not bored—keeping his drink freshened and all that stuff.’

‘You could have a problem there,’ Simon informed her. ‘Because all the women in the room are clustered round him,

drooling. You’d probably have to kill to reach him.’ His voice sank to a persuasive whisper. ‘Sweetheart, this is a big

house. There must be somewhere we can go—just for a while’

Emily bit her lip. Was that how he wanted their first time together she asked herself, troubled. A snatched encounter in

some empty bedroom with the threat of discovery hanging over them

She said quietly, ‘Simon, I can’t. My father’s bound to miss me and we can’t take the risk.’

‘Later, then. When the party’s over and everyone’s gone.’ His voice was urgent. ‘I’ll give it a couple of hours, then I’ll

come back across the garden, so leave the conservatory unlocked for me, hmm’

He paused. ‘Please, darling. It would mean so much to know you’re ready to trust yourself to me.’

Emily hesitated miserably, then nodded. ‘If—that’s what you want.’

His grin was triumphant. ‘Oh, you’ll want it too, my pet, I promise you that. And wear my present, eh’

Emily moved away, aware that her mouth was dry and her heart thudding uncomfortably. Some instinct made her look

across the room and she realised that, hemmed in as he was, Rafaele Di Salis was watching her, his dark face

expressionless.

And she’d already turned away before she remembered she’d intended to stare back.

She was on edge for the rest of the evening. Someone—some stranger outside herself—moved through the groups of

people, smiling and talking, but was unable to recollect a single word that had been said.

However there was nothing wrong with her eyesight. And it seemed that Simon had been perfectly correct about Rafaele

Di Salis’s ability to attract the women in the room. In particular, Jilly Aubrey seemed so attached to his side that it would

probably need a surgical operation to remove her. Which proved, Emily told herself waspishly, that there was no

accounting for taste.

It seemed to have been a good party, however. Everyone was saying so as they reluctantly departed. In the hallway,

someone produced a sprig of mistletoe and kisses were freely exchanged amid laughter and cheering. Emily had to submit

to her fair share, smiling with spurious brightness as she did so. But Simon was not among the claimants.

‘I didn’t see the Aubreys leave.’ She tried to speak casually as the door closed behind their last guests.

‘They went nearly an hour ago,’ Sir Travers returned. ‘Apart from the girl Jillian,’ he added disapprovingly. ‘She stayed

on, having persuaded to Rafaele to drive her home later.’

Now why does that not surprise me Emily thought ironically.

The clearing up after the party was accomplished swiftly and efficiently by Mrs Penistone and the extra staff hired for the

evening, and eventually Emily was able to go up to her room, but not before she’d slipped unobtrusively through the

dining room to the conservatory beyond and unlocked the door.

She could only hope that the housekeeper would not decide to carry out a last-minute double-check.

Or was that really what she was hoping for Because, if she was honest, she felt almost sick with apprehension as she

undressed and took a quick shower.

Reluctantly, she put on the bra and thong and took a wincing look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look or feel in the

least sexy, she thought wretchedly. Just uncomfortable and—in-credibly stupid. But if this was how Simon wanted her…

All the same, she was glad to cover up by zipping herself into her dark green velour robe.

Why was she hesitating she wondered, as she brushed her hair into a silken cloud on her shoulders. Tonight was a

turning point in her life—the magic time when she would belong at last to Simon—the man she loved—and it would be

beautiful—wonderful, because he would make it so for her.

And, drawing a deep breath, she slipped out of her room, closing the door behind her with immense care, and went

silently down the shadowed stairs to keep her rendezvous.

CHAPTER TWO

EVENnow, three years later, Emily could remember every detail of that short journey. Could recall the brush of the stair

carpet under her bare feet, the way the shadows had seemed to distort even the most familiar objects and the soft

creaking and groaning as the old house settled for the night.

With every step she’d expected lights to blaze on and her father’s voice demanding to know what she was doing.

She supposed she’d have to say that she couldn’t sleep and was going to the kitchen to heat some milk. He’d believe her,

because she’d never given him cause to do otherwise. Or not until now, she’d thought, her throat closing.

More than once she’d been tempted to turn back. To take refuge in her room and find some excuse that would placate

Simon for her failure to show.

But I love him, she’d reminded herself almost feverishly. I should be wanting to make him happy, not pacify him.

When she was in his arms, she would feel differently. She was sure of it. Convinced that this little knot of coldness in the

pit of her stomach would dissolve into something altogether warmer and more receptive.

And yet…

She’d have been lying to herself if she hadn’t hoped that her first time with Simon would have been moremeaningful in

some way. More romantic than these hasty and covert moments ahead of her.

Although, as she’d gathered from the conversation of her more sophisticated school friends, usually the first time was no

big deal. Merely something that needed to be got out of the way, so that more pleasurable experiences could follow.

There was also the vexed question of birth control. Emily reckoned uneasily that she was the only girl in the sixth form not

to be on the pill. But would Simon have guessed this and made his own arrangements, or would she have to pretend

everything was all right—and risk the consequences

She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. Her father would be angry and disappointed with her, of course, but as

she and Simon were planning to be married anyway, would it really be so awful if the wedding date had to be moved

forward because she was pregnant

Well, the short answer to that was yes. Because it was the last thing she wanted to happen.

The situation would be much easier to handle if Simon’s career wasn’t currently on hold, she thought forlornly. How

could he cope with a wife and baby without a regular salary or a home of his own

Her father might offer him something, she supposed, but she wouldn’t count on it. Not if he had Simon foisted on him as a

son-in-law before they’d even had a chance to become properly acquainted, let alone friends.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to the conservatory and slipped inside like a small, quiet ghost.

It was one of her favourite places in the house, its warmth like a blanket, enveloping her in comfort. She stood still for a

moment, eyes closed, breathing the raw earthy smells and listening to the familiar muted hum of the heating system.

There was no other sound. No movement either. And Emily realised with something very like relief that Simon wasn’t

there.

But perhaps she should allow him a few minutes’ grace, she thought reluctantly. After all, she couldn’t go to bed leaving

the outside door unsecured, yet she certainly didn’t want him arriving late either, rattling at the lock and wakening the

entire household in a frustrated attempt to gain access.

Oh God, I should never—never—have agreed to any of this, she groaned inwardly, sinking down on a bench next to the

miniature palms and peering at the face of her watch in the gloom. I’m not the stuff conspirators are made of.

She sat tensely, hands clasped in her lap, willing the moments to pass more quickly.

When she saw Simon next, she would pretend it had never happened, she told herself. She’d tell him her father had been

on the prowl, and she hadn’t dared leave her room. Hope that he hadn’t had a wasted journey.

She was just getting to her feet when she realised that the door to the garden was opening silently to admit the dark figure

of a man.

For a brief second she froze in the realisation that it was too late to slip away.

This is Simon, she reminded herself urgently. This is the man you love and want. And it’s time to commit yourself to that

love, once and for always.

She drew a breath, then went to him, running, flinging herself into the arms that instantly closed about her as she lifted her

face for his kiss.

But, instead of the passionate demand she’d expected, he was almost restrained, keeping his ardour well in check, and

Emily was grateful for it.

Eyes shut, she gave herself up to the pleasure of the cool, gentle brush of his lips against hers, his exploration of the soft

contours of her mouth as if this was strange, uncharted territory to him.

As if…

And in that same moment, she knew with total clarity that this was wrong—all wrong. That the hard male body she’d

pressed herself against so ardently was taller, leaner than Simon’s, and altogether more muscular. That she was not being

held and kissed as Simon held and kissed her. And that this man even smelled differently, Simon’s familiar brand of

aftershave having been replaced by something infinitely more subtle and expensive.

But only too recognisable, just the same…

Oh, God, she whimpered in silent horror, as realisation dawned. Oh, God, it’s—him.

Gasping, she tore her lips from his and pushed at him violently.

‘Let go of me.’ Her voice was shaking. ‘Let go of me at once, damn you.’

‘You mean this entrancing welcome is not intended for me, after all’ Rafaele Di Salis asked mockingly. ‘I am desolate.’

But he relaxed his clasp sufficiently for Emily to take an uneven step backwards, out of range. At the same time, he

clicked the switch by the door and the overhead light went on, catching her in the act of scrubbing violently at her mouth

with her hand in an attempt to remove any lingering traces of his kiss.

To cover her confusion, Emily went into attack mode. ‘What do you think you’re doing—creeping into the place like a

burglar’

His brows lifted sardonically. ‘Are you saying that you mistook me for a thief—and not Simon Aubrey’

‘Simon,’ she said curtly, ‘need not concern you.’

‘Ah, but he does, Emilia. Because I fear that he will not be able to keep his appointment with you tonight, after all.’

She stiffened. ‘He told—you that’

‘No.’ Rafaele Di Salis shrugged. ‘I told him so, when I encountered him in the garden a short while ago.’

She gasped. ‘You were spying on us’

‘I had just returned from driving Signorina Aubrey home and heard him crashing through the shrubbery as I walked back

to the house. He is fortunate there are no dogs on the premises, or he would have woken the whole household—including

your father.’ He allowed a significant pause. ‘I persuaded him that his visit was—inappropriate and he left.’

She said chokingly, ‘And what gives you the right to interfere in my affairs’

‘You mean there have been others’ He tutted. ‘And I would have sworn that Simon Aubrey was the first.’ He glanced

round. ‘And I must tell you,cara , that this is hardly the most comfortable setting for so momentous an event as losing your

virginity.’

For a long moment Emily was incapable of speech, aware that every inch of her skin was burning with embarrassment.

At last she said hoarsely, ‘You are—disgusting.’

He laughed. ‘No, merely practical. Besides, your would-be lover seemed in no mood for a tender seduction when I met

him just now. Frankly, he appeared ill-tempered. And, when I arrived at his uncle’s house earlier, it was clear there had