Mistress Arrangements. Helen Bianchin

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 long hard glance. ‘I’ve already enlightened him that his highly regarded Carly Taylor is Carly Taylor Alessi.’

      Anger surged to the surface at his high-handedness. ‘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 fête, 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 multi-million-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 СКАЧАТЬ