The Italian's Passionate Revenge
When she spoke she could hear her voice shaking.
‘I’ll be all right when I’ve calmed down. Perhaps you should go now.’
‘No, I won’t leave you like this. You shouldn’t be alone. Sit down.’
He guided her to a chair and left her for a moment, returning with a glass which he held out.
‘Drink this.’
Another choke of laughter burst from her. ‘It’s champagne.’
‘It’s all I could find. They seem to have cleared everything else away.’
‘I can’t drink champagne at my husband’s funeral.’
‘Why not? You didn’t give a damn for him, did you?’
She looked up and found him watching her with an inscrutable expression.
‘No,’ she said after a moment. ‘I didn’t.’
Elise took the glass, drained it and held it out for a refill.
He obliged and watched her drink the second glass before saying, ‘Then I wonder why you’ve been crying so much.’
‘What do you mean? You haven’t seen me shed a tear today.’
‘Not today, no. But when you’re alone.’
It was true. In the depths of the night she’d wept her heart out, not for Ben, but for her desolate life, her ruined hopes, above all for the laughing young man who’d come and gone so many years ago. There was nothing of him now but aching memories.
It could all have been so different. If only—
Desperately she shut that idea off, as she’d done so often before.
But how had this man known?
‘It’s in your face,’ he said, answering her unspoken question.
‘You tried hard to conceal the truth, but make-up can only do so much.’
‘It fooled the others.’
‘But not me,’ he said softly.
At any other time she might have thought she heard a warning. Now there was only relief that he seemed to understand so much.
‘Drink up,’ Vincente said suddenly, ‘and I’ll take you out for a meal.’
His lordly assurance that she would follow his lead irritated her.
‘Thank you, but I’d rather stay here.’
‘No, you wouldn’t. You don’t want to be on your own in this empty place that’s much too big for you.’
‘Ben insisted on a huge suite,’ she said instinctively.
‘So I’d have expected. He had to show off, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, but—I won’t discuss him with you. He’s dead. Let that be an end.’
‘But death is never really the end,’ he pointed out. ‘Not for those left behind. Don’t stay here alone. Come out with me and say all the things you couldn’t say to anyone else. You’ll feel better for it.’
Suddenly she longed to do as he suggested. After today she need never see him again, and in that was a kind of freedom.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘Why not? Yes, I’ll come,’ she repeated, as though trying to convince herself.
‘You’d better change out of that black first.’
She’d been going to do just that, but again his cool way of dictating to her made her rebellious.
‘Don’t give me orders.’
‘I’m not. I’m only suggesting what you want to do anyway,’ he said, assuming a reasonable air that was almost as amusing as it was annoying.
It was an act. Nothing about this man was reasonable.
‘Indeed? And have you any “suggestions” for what I should wear?’
‘Something outrageous.’
‘I don’t do “outrageous”.’
‘You should. A woman with your face and figure can be as outrageous as she likes, and it’s her duty to make use of her gifts. Because I’m sure Ben would have preferred that. I’ll bet money that somewhere in your wardrobe there’s a “flaunt” dress that he wanted people to see you in, with him,’ Vincente said with confidence.
‘But Ben isn’t here. And if I go out with you people will say, “She’s wearing that when she’s just buried him?’’’
‘So let them call you scandalous. What do you care?’
‘I ought to care,’ she said, trying to conceal how shockingly tempting was the picture.
‘But you don’t. Perhaps you never did. This is no time to start.’
‘You’ve got it all worked out.’
‘I always plan ahead. It’s a great help in covering every angle.’
‘You should be careful, covering too many angles. It looks suspicious,’ Elise replied.
That checked him, she was glad to notice, and made him regard her uncertainly.
‘What do you mean by that?’ he asked.
‘In another age they’d have called you a wizard and burnt you at the stake.’
‘Whereas now they call me a wizard and buy my shares. No more talking. Time to be outrageous. Hurry. Don’t keep me waiting.’
Elise went into the bedroom, thinking that it was simply indecent that he should have known about her ‘flaunt’ dress.
It hung in the far corner of her wardrobe, low-cut, whispering honey-coloured silk that sparkled with every movement. Ben had chosen it.
‘You can wear it to do me proud,’ he’d declared.
‘I’d wear it if I wanted to be taken for a certain kind of woman,’ she’d protested.
‘Nonsense! If you’ve got it, flaunt it.’
He’d actually said that.
She’d worn it once and felt self-conscious at the way it hugged her so tightly that it was impossible to wear anything underneath, and emphasised every movement of her hips.
It was cut on the slant, clinging lovingly to her, the neckline so low as to be barely decent, the extra length at the back making a slight train. It was impossible to walk normally in such a dress. Only sashaying would do.
Elise tried it, watching her own provocative movements before the mirror, and was shocked at herself for enjoying it. But tonight she was a different person.
Taking a deep breath, she flung open the door and walked out.
The room was empty.
CHAPTER TWO
LOOKING round in strong indignation, Elise realised that Vincente Farnese had made a fool of her—teasing her expectations, then leaving her stranded. But the next moment there was a knock on the door and she opened it to find him there.
‘I went upstairs to my own room to change for the evening,’ he explained.
‘You’re staying here?’
‘Certainly. I don’t have a base in London. This seemed the best idea. May I say that you look magnificent? Each man there will envy me.’
‘Don’t talk like that,’ she said sharply.
‘Why not? Isn’t it what every woman likes to hear?’
‘I’m not every woman. I’m me. Ben used to say things like that, as though all that mattered was how he seemed to other people. It was horrible, and if you’re the same the whole thing’s off. In fact—’
‘Forgive me,’ he said, interrupting her quickly. ‘You’re right, of course. I shall say no more about your beauty. My car is waiting.’
Vincente took the velvet wrap that she’d brought out, placing it delicately around her shoulders.
The limousine stood by the entrance, the chauffeur holding open the rear door. Elise slid gracefully into place in the back seat and he followed her.
It was a short journey to a street in Mayfair, and a door that seemed to fade unobtrusively into the wall. Set into it was a small plaque that said ‘Babylon’.
Elise raised her eyebrows at one of the most exclusive nightclubs in London. Only members were admitted and membership was almost impossible to obtain. Ben’s application had been refused, much to his fury.
But Vincente Farnese, despite having no base in London, was a member who received an immediate respectful greeting.
‘We’re a little early,’ he said as they descended the long stairway, ‘so we can eat in peace and talk quietly before the music starts.’
He was a skilled host, with a connoisseur’s knowledge of exquisite food and wine. Elise had thought she wasn’t hungry, but when she tried the miniature crab cakes with sauce rémoulade she discovered otherwise.
For a few minutes they paid the food the tribute of silence, but she smiled and nodded in recognition of his choice. She was beginning to relax. Somehow it no longer seemed bizarre to be here on such a day, as though these hours existed in a cocoon, away from real life. Tomorrow the problems would be there, but tonight she could float free of them.
‘Why did you tell that woman I had a heart of stone?’ she asked. ‘You know nothing about me.’
‘We needed to convince her that you were formidable.’ After a moment he added, ‘And every woman can turn her heart to stone when she needs to. I think you’ve sometimes needed to.’
‘True. She wasn’t the only one.’
‘Was he ever faithful to you?’
‘I doubt it. He must have taken up with her pretty soon after our marriage.’
‘Does that surprise you?’
‘Nothing I discover about Ben surprises me any more.’ She shrugged. ‘Even the way he died.’
‘I heard some strange rumours about that.’
‘You mean the woman he was with when he had the heart attack? She vanished so nobody knows who she was.’
‘A ship that passed in the night.’
She gave a wry smile. ‘There was a whole flotilla of those.’
‘That must have been very hard for you.’
‘I feel sorry for him more than anything, being left alone like that. I may not have been a very good wife, but I’d have stayed with him when he was ill.’
‘Weren’t you a good wife?’
‘No,’ she said shortly. ‘I wasn’t.’
‘Surely you must have loved him at some point?’
‘I never loved him,’ she said simply, wondering why she was telling so much to this man.
‘That’s very interesting.’
‘I see. You’re another who thinks I married Ben for what I took to be his vast wealth. Give me patience!’
‘I don’t—’
‘Listen, you said yourself, I don’t care what people say about me. You’re right, and “people” includes you. Think what you like.’
Silence.
‘I apologise,’ he said quietly.
‘No, I suppose I should apologise,’ she said wryly.
‘Don’t spoil it. I’m impressed—almost as impressed as I was when you dealt with Mary. I made a note then not to get on your wrong side. Can’t you tell that I’m shaking in my shoes?’
‘Oh, stop it,’ she said, laughing unwillingly.
‘It’s natural that your nerves should be on edge after what you’ve been through.’
‘And stop being sympathetic and understanding. It doesn’t suit you.’
‘How shrewd of you to have spotted that!’
Another silence, until Vincente said in a voice full of relief, ‘Ah, here’s our main course.’
It was roast tenderloin of beef with sauce Béarnaise, served with red wine, which he poured for her.
Suddenly he spoke in Italian. ‘Ben told me you’d be valuable to him in Rome. He said you’d been there and spoke Italian pretty well.’
She replied in the same language. ‘I studied fashion in Rome before I married him. My Italian really isn’t that good. I haven’t spoken it for a while.’
‘It’s not bad,’ he said, reverting to English. ‘You’d soon become fluent again. How long were you there?’
‘Three months.’
‘And in that time you must have had many admirers.’
He spoke in a mischievous voice and she laughed in return.
‘I had flirtations. After all, you know—Italian men…’ She shrugged, keeping it light.
‘I know that no true Italian man could look at you without wanting to become your lover,’ he said in the same tone.
‘Maybe it wasn’t just what they wanted. Perhaps my own wishes came into it as well,’ she said with a touch of irony.
‘And you’re telling me that not one young man managed to make himself agreeable to you? Ai-ai-ai! The men of my race are losing their touch. Not a single one?’
‘I forget,’ she riposted. ‘There was such a crowd.’
He laughed aloud, his eyes gleaming with appreciation, and raised his wineglass in salute.
‘Truly you are a cold-hearted goddess. All that youthful ardour at your feet and not one young man stands out in your mind?’
‘Not one,’ she lied.
‘How long after returning from Rome did you marry Ben?’
‘Almost at once.’
‘Then the mystery is solved. You were in love with him all the time and abandoned your design course to marry him.’
‘I’ve already told you I didn’t love him.’
‘Just why did you marry him?’ Vincente demanded abruptly. The humour had gone from his voice.
‘Why, for his money, of course,’ Elise said with a shrug. ‘I thought we settled that earlier.’
‘Somehow that doesn’t convince me. There must have been another reason.’
Suddenly the air seemed to shiver.
‘Signor Farnese,’ Elise said coolly, ‘please stop interrogating me. None of this is your business, and I will not discuss my private affairs with you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said quickly. ‘I was only making small talk.’
‘Really? It was almost like being interviewed for a job.’
‘Then I blame myself. I assess many people for jobs and I’m afraid it creeps into my manner in the rest of life. Forgive me.’
It was said charmingly and she let it go at that. She still sensed that there was something else going on, but it wasn’t worth pursuing. After tonight she would never meet him again.
‘What do you plan to do now?’ he asked.
‘I’m not really sure. Ben’s death was so sudden, and there’s been so much to do that I haven’t had time to think.’
‘Come back to Rome with me.’
‘What for? Ben won’t be working for you now.’
‘But you own an apartment there.’
‘An agent can sell it for me. I don’t need to be there.’
‘Can’t you simply treat yourself to a holiday?’ When she hesitated he said urgently, ‘When you were there as a young girl, did you ever visit the Trevi Fountain?’
‘Of course,’ she murmured.
Elise had been to the great fountain in the company of a young man with a bright face and a merry laugh.
‘You must toss a coin in and make a wish,’ he told her.
She’d taken out a coin, musing, ‘What shall I wish for?’
‘There’s only one wish—that you will return to Rome.’
‘All right.’ She tossed her coin into the water and cried aloud to the sky, ‘Bring me back.’
‘Come back for ever,’ he urged.
‘For ever and ever!’ she cried ecstatically.
‘Never leave me, carissima.’
‘Never in life,’ she vowed.
‘Love me always.’
‘Until my last moment.’
A month later she’d left Rome, had left the young man, had never seen either of them again.
‘And like all visitors you tossed a coin in and wished to return to Rome?’ Vincente said now. ‘It is now the time to make that wish come true. Come with me and see if it’s still the city of your memories.’
She shook her head. ‘Memories are never the same. You can’t go back.’
‘Are the memories so terrible that you’re afraid to confront them?’
‘Perhaps they are.’
‘Maybe the truth will be better than your fears?’
She shook her head. ‘That never happens,’ she said with soft violence. ‘Never!’
‘So you’ve discovered that, have you?’ he asked sombrely.
‘Doesn’t everyone, sooner or later?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
The heaviness in his voice made her look up quickly and for a moment she caught an unguarded expression in his eyes. It vanished at once, but it showed her something he was trying to keep hidden. Her interest grew.
‘Why are you here?’ she murmured.
‘I came to a funeral.’
‘But why? You’re here for a purpose.’
‘To pay my respects.’
‘I don’t believe you. I don’t think you “do” sweetness and light. You wouldn’t head that corporation if you did.’
‘Even in business some of us manage to behave like civilized human beings,’ Vincente observed with a slight edge to his voice.
‘But why?’ she asked, apparently wide-eyed with wonder. ‘There’s no money in it.’
‘There can be,’ he said incautiously and was startled by the glint of mischief in her eyes.
‘Now there’s an admission!’ she said with wicked delight.
‘No admission at all. We’ve already agreed that I don’t “do” sweetness and light; we should add—unless it suits me.’
‘One should always add that,’ she agreed solemnly.
‘You think you’ve got me sussed,’ he asked, amused.
‘You and all men. I go by a simple rule. Just think the worst. I’m never wrong.’
‘You might be wrong about me,’ he suggested.
Elise leaned back in her chair and considered him. The lights in the clubs were low, constantly changing from green to blue to red. By chance it was red that bathed him now, giving him the look of a handsome devil.
Elise shook her head. ‘No, I’m not wrong. What brought you here? Revenge?’
It was a word she ventured to choose and it made him eye her sharply.
‘What did you say?’
‘Revenge. Did Ben put one over on you in a deal? Was that why you wanted him in Rome?’
‘Him?’ Vincente gave a bark of harsh laughter. ‘He never put one over on anyone. The man was a fool. Didn’t you know that?’
‘I’m surprised you knew it since you hired him. What use could a fool be to you? This gets curiouser and curiouser.’
‘Not at all.’ He gave a sardonic grin. ‘For “fool” read “donkey”. I can always find a use for a donkey.’
‘There must be plenty of donkeys in Rome. Why Ben?’
The sound of music gave him an excuse not to answer. The musicians were in place, a young woman glided on to the stage and began to sing in a soft, throaty voice. Suddenly the floor was alive with gently swaying dancers.
‘Haven’t we talked enough?’ he asked.
Elise nodded and dismissed the argument, which didn’t really interest her anyway. She took the hand he held out to her, letting him lead her on to the floor. It would have been wiser to stay in her seat, but she was beyond wisdom. She wanted to dance with him because she wanted to be held by him, held against him. That was the plain truth. And tonight she was going to please herself for the first time in years.
She braced herself for the feel of his hand in the small of her back, but it was still a shock through the thin material. He drew her close so that she could feel his body, his legs moving powerfully against hers, and there was no protection against that.
Had she been crazy to agree to this? Four years ago she’d thrown Ben out of her bed, and even before that her body had slept. She’d thought it was the sleep of the dead, forgetting that the dead could awaken. Now every part of her was becoming alive and the pleasure was almost painful.
She resisted it, knowing that this was one man she had to confront on equal terms. But she also sensed that she had the power to catch him off guard, which could be the best way to face him down.
The singer was crooning smoochy words of passion and pleasure.
‘Remembering—all the things we’ve done together—wanting you—wanting everything—’
She felt his arm tighten, silently insisting that she look up, and when she did so she found his mouth so dangerously close that for a moment they were exchanging breath. The hot whisper across her lips strained her control so that she almost reached up and kissed him.
In the event, he made the first move. Or did he? His lips brushed hers so lightly that she couldn’t be sure what was dream and what was reality.
Wanting everything. It was almost indecent to want everything with this stranger, but it was happening, despite her denials. His mouth was on hers, pressing lightly, then more urgently. She closed her eyes, yielding to the pure sensation, wanting more and more of it, shutting out the world.
His hand moved slowly—upwards to caress the bare skin of her back, sideways to feel the flare of her hips, lower to enjoy the soft swell of her behind moving in the dance.
For too long she’d lived like a nun, knowing there was no place in her life for desire. But now it came dancing out of the darkness, dazzling and overwhelming her with the lure of the strange and almost unknown. Inside, she was aching to be returned to life after the long sleep that had been more like a coma.
Why now? she wondered. With him?
Because he was made for seduction, her senses replied. His body was designed for sex—long, lean, hard, pared down, subtly powerful. With every touch it whispered what it could do for her, what they could do together. His movements blended with hers so that they seemed to be making love right there on the dance floor.
‘What are you doing?’ she whispered.
‘Surely you mean what are we doing?’ Vincente murmured almost against her lips. ‘There’s no mystery about it.’
‘But—no—we ought to stop this now.’
‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’ He spoke softly and his warm breath whispered against her face.
‘Yes…yes, it’s…what I want.’
She was lying and they both knew it. She didn’t want him to stop. She wanted him.
Elise didn’t even like Vincente Farnese particularly. What little she knew of his mind stimulated her and they had formed an alliance of convenience, but she’d also sensed a watchfulness in him, a carefully preserved distance that precluded any warmth. There was no tenderness, no meeting of the emotions.
Despite this, or perhaps because of it, she felt a desire that was liberated from all feelings—raw, basic, uncomplicated. She ached to be in his arms, in his bed. She wanted to undress before his hungry gaze, making a delicious performance of it. But she also wanted him to remove her clothes slowly—so slowly—heightening her excitement with every leisurely movement.
She longed to join her nakedness to his, feeling his fingers explore her gently, then urgently, with passionate desire ever mounting until at last his control was destroyed and he claimed her with fierce abandon.
Yes, she thought with sudden understanding, that was what she wanted most: to see this man, so sure of himself and his powers of command, lose all control because of her. That would be satisfying as nothing else would be.
Everything was there in her head, tingling along her nerves, the anticipation of what he would do and what she would do. She tried to shut off the thought, fearful lest he sense it. But, of course, he’d already sensed it. That was what made him dangerous.
‘Why deny us what we both want?’ he asked, reading her thoughts again in the way he did with such terrifying ease.
‘I don’t always take what I want,’ she said slowly.
‘That’s a mistake. You haven’t had enough pleasure and satisfaction in your life. You should take it now that you’re free.’
‘Free,’ she echoed longingly. ‘Will I ever be free?’
‘What should stop you?’
‘So much…so much…’
He drew her closer and laid his lips against the tender skin of her neck.
‘Take what you want,’ he whispered. ‘Take it, pay the price, but don’t waste time on regrets.’
‘Is that how you live?’
‘Always,’ he said, turning to guide her off the dance floor. ‘Let’s go.’
On the journey they didn’t speak, but sat together in the back of the car, watching the light and darkness flicker over each other’s faces.
Conscious of eyes upon them, they walked sedately through the hotel lobby and up to her suite. Only when the door had closed behind them did he toss aside the velvet wrap and take her into his arms, raining kisses all over her neck and shoulders.
Elise threw back her head, yielding herself up to the sweet sensation, welcoming it. Each touch of his lips sparked off tremors that flowed down over her skin, between her breasts, creating life where there had been only desolation before. A deep, shuddering breath escaped her and she reached for him.
She didn’t know how they got into the bedroom, but she was lying down and he was beside her, casting his jacket aside, then reaching for her dress, pulling it down to uncover her breasts.
For a moment his face, suffused with passion, loomed over her. She reached up, meaning to pull him down to her, but her hand seemed to have a will of its own. Instead of drawing him closer, it tensed to fend him off.
‘Wait,’ she whispered.
He became still, frowning as though not sure he’d heard her properly.