Tempted by Desire

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Tempted by Desire Page 3

by Carole Mortimer


  ‘If the job is available,’ he put it mildly. ‘There seems to be an abundance of unemployed teachers in this country at the moment. I can sympathise with you.’

  ‘Mm, it could all be wasted effort when I’ve finished.’

  ‘And do you live on your own?’ He offered her a cigarette, lighting one for himself at her refusal.

  ‘In a bed-sitter? I certainly hope so, there’s hardly room for me, let alone anyone else.’

  ‘And you have a boy-friend?’

  She looked at him sharply, but could see only mild curiosity in his clear brown eyes. ‘I have male friends,’ she said carefully. ‘But none that I feel serious about.’

  ‘But one who feels that way about you,’ he guessed shrewdly. ‘If he feels this way why has he allowed you to come to London without him?’

  ‘I don’t feel that way about him, it’s as simple as that.’

  ‘It is a good enough reason—and I for one am glad of it. I would not like to think I was—cutting in is, I believe, the right expression.’

  Suzanne laughed. ‘Mmm, but you aren’t—or at least, you wouldn’t be if you intended—’ she broke off confusedly.

  His dark brows lowered with concern. ‘My age worries you, perhaps?’

  She looked startled. It certainly wasn’t his age she was worried about, it was Celeste, beautiful Celeste with her lethal charm. She shook her head wordlessly.

  ‘I am thirty-two. Is that much older than you?’

  Suzanne had to laugh at his earnestness. As if a little thing like age mattered where someone of his looks and charm was involved. ‘You shouldn’t ask a lady her age, Vidal,’ she rebuked him teasingly.

  His dark eyes twinkled back at her. ‘I know, but you are not a lady—I mean, you aren’t—Oh, dear, I am wording this badly. My English is not as fluent as I would wish it to be. What I meant was that you are a beautiful young girl and have no reason to hide your age.’

  ‘You had me worried for a moment.’ She couldn’t hold back a grin. Wow! When he smiled at her like that…! ‘I’m nineteen—just,’ she supplied.

  ‘You have been on your own since you were sixteen?’

  ‘Just about. But I was on my own long before that really. Daddy and my stepmother lived out of the country most of the time, and so I was left in boarding school.’

  ‘At least I cannot say that. Cesare always cared for me when I was a child. I was fifteen when our father died and Cesare was forced to take up the responsibilities of being the head of the family. I am afraid I was not always a well-behaved child, far from it in fact.’

  ‘I can believe it.’ And she could too. He still had the look of an impish child when he teased her and she felt sure the Conte Cesare Martino must have had his patience sorely tried. ‘And how did his wife feel about that.’

  This question seemed to cause him a certain amount of amusement, and Suzanne could only wonder why. Until he told her. ‘Cesare is not married. Many have tried and many have failed, but as I have told you, it is hard to love a rock, and believe me, Cesare is pure granite. One day I think a woman will come along and knock him completely off balance. It must be so, I am sure of it. He is a Venetian, and we are a warm passionate race. Cesare cannot be so different,’ he smiled with relish. ‘I hope I am around when it happens, I think I would like to see him bowed by love for a woman.’

  ‘That isn’t a very nice thing to say,’ she scolded.

  ‘You are right, but I find I have many of these thoughts about my austere brother. You would know why if you were ever to meet him.’

  Suzanne gave a little laugh, a soft gentle sound that riveted her companion’s eyes on her glowing face. ‘I don’t think there’s any chance of that!’

  The smile faded from her face as she saw the scowl on Vidal Martino’s face, and following his gaze she saw the reason why. A man had just entered the lounge, a tall aristocratic man with a dark look of disapproval in his rigidly held features. Suzanne was instantly aware of his air of arrogance and she wasn’t surprised when the manager of the hotel began bowing subserviently to him, only to be waved imperiously away again. Icy grey eyes settled on the two of them sitting in the corner of the room and Suzanne felt herself stiffen as the newcomer strode towards them with long easy strides.

  ‘You are about to be proved wrong,’ muttered Vidal, rising slowly to his feet.

  Suzanne’s startled gaze swung to the man now standing beside their table, her eyes widening with shock. Surely this couldn’t be the Conte Cesare Martino! This man was too young and he didn’t fit her picture of him at all. That over-long blond almost silver-coloured hair, and those steel grey eyes couldn’t possibly belong to a Venetian. And yet his skin was a dark swarthy colour. The whole effect was very startling and very attractive, much too attractive for any woman’s peace of mind.

  ‘Cesare,’ Vidal Martino said firmly, confirming Suzanne’s suspicions. ‘I did not expect to see you tonight.’

  The Conte’s eyes flickered momentarily over Suzanne as she remained seated, and if anything his look became even more contemptuous. ‘So it would appear,’ he said coldly, his voice only slightly accented, much less so than his brother’s, a deep slightly husky sound that commanded attention.

  ‘And what do you mean by that?’ Vidal’s face became flushed with anger.

  Suzanne compared the two men and could find little resemblance, except perhaps in their physique. Both looked powerful men, although she would hazard a guess that any battle these two entered opposed to each other, be it verbal or physical, the Conte would always emerge the winner. As brothers, half-brothers, they bore no resemblance to each other. One was so dark in colouring, and the other so fair and yet with that dark contrasting skin. There couldn’t be more than six or seven years difference in their ages and yet the Conte had such a distinguished air that he appeared older. And no wonder, if he had had to take over his duties as the Conte Martino at such an early age.

  ‘I merely meant that as you are already occupied then of course you could hot have been expecting me,’ the Conte answered his brother’s rather heated question. ‘Are you not going to introduce us, Vidal?’ As he said this the Conte lowered his tall frame to sit on the other side of Suzanne, and Vidal had perforce to join them.

  ‘Suzanne, my brother the Conte Cesare Martino,’ he gave in sulkily. Suzanne was again reminded of a little boy and her resentment towards his brother grew for interrupting what should have been a perfect evening spent with Vidal. ‘Cesare, this is Signorina Hammond, Signorina Suzanne Hammond.’

  She felt her hand taken into a firm grip and at last looked up as the Conte’s silver-blond head neared her hand, kissing her suddenly warm flesh with those cold firm impassioned lips. Grey eyes widened slightly as they met the sparkle in her green ones and Suzanne felt strangely unreal for a moment before he calmly broke that gaze.

  ‘Signorina Hammond?’ he queried softly.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied breathlessly, feeling curiously as if she had run for miles and miles and now felt winded.

  ‘I only ask because I was informed that a Signora Hammond was staying here.’

  ‘That would be Suzanne’s stepmother,’ Vidal put in resentfully. ‘And what, may I ask, have you been doing this evening, Cesare?’

  ‘The same as you, no doubt, visiting my stubborn and wilful grandmother. When she informed me of your visit to her I thought it only polite to see you before I retired. As you only arrived this afternoon I thought perhaps you would be alone. I can see I have wasted my time.’ Again those grey eyes flickered over Suzanne’s still form.

  Usually rudeness didn’t bother her, but she was perfectly well aware that coming from this arrogant man it was a gross insult. He certainly wouldn’t talk about one of his own countrywomen with such ill-disguised contempt, and definitely not in front of them. ‘If you are referring to me, signore, then you are quite wrong. I’m not detaining your brother,’ she said icily.

  ‘Whether you are or whether you are not is not Cesare�
�s concern,’ Vidal cut in. ‘I am no longer a child, Cesare, but a grown man. You would do well to remember it.’

  The Conte stood up in unhurried movements. ‘And you would have done well to remember, Vidal, that the Grant contract was an important part of my plan for greater expansion into America,’ the words rang out with contempt. ‘And if you had contacted me immediately on your arrival this afternoon instead of—instead of flirting with this child—we may have still been able to salvage something from the mess. As it is, Leroy Grant has cancelled any further business with us.’ He bowed stiffly to Suzanne. ‘Miss Hammond. I will see you in your office tomorrow, Vidal.’

  There was no mistaking the anger in his voice and Suzanne watched him nervously as he walked out of the lounge. The hand that lifted her glass shook with delayed reaction and she sipped the fiery liquid gratefully. So that was the Conte Martino! Vidal was right, that man was pure granite. She looked at Vidal and was shocked by his appearance. His face was paled somewhat and he was glaring after the Conte with undisguised dislike.

  She put out her hand and touched his arm tentatively. ‘Vidal?’ she said questioningly. ‘You mustn’t let his anger bother you so much. I’m sure he’ll have forgotten it by tomorrow.’

  Vidal seemed to visibly drag his attention back to her, smiling slightly at her concerned face. He patted her hand reassuringly. ‘Cesare forgets nothing. But I am unconcerned with his anger. Grant had already decided not to sell to us before we even made our offer. It was his rudeness to you that I find unforgivable. And do not say it does not matter, because I can see it did. He annoyed and upset you.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Suzanne admitted. ‘At the time. But it isn’t important, at least, not important enough to ruin our evening.’

  ‘To me it is. He would not have spoken to one of our own nationality in that way. Cesare dislikes the freedom of your countrywomen.’

  ‘I had already guessed as much,’ she said with a light laugh. ‘But it doesn’t matter. He wasn’t half as old as I imagined him to be.’

  Vidal Martino studied her suspiciously. ‘You do not find him attractive, do you?’ he demanded haughtily, looking curiously like his brother at that moment.

  ‘Why, I—! No, of course not. What a strange thing to say!’

  ‘Not so strange when you consider what he has—money, harsh good looks, and most important of all, a title. I am not so foolish that I do not realise how attractive these things can be to a woman. Cesare is thirty-seven, only five years my senior, and yet at times he reduces me to a mere schoolboy. Imagine what havoc he could evoke in a babe like yourself.’

  ‘I don’t need to imagine anything, I’ve seen him with my own eyes, and as you’ve already said, he only annoyed and upset me. What do you take me for, Vidal? A gold-digger?’ Her green eyes sparkled angrily.

  Vidal gave a throaty chuckle. ‘Forgive me, Suzanne. Of course I think no such thing. You must try to understand.

  Cesare has always taken everything he wanted, and occasionally it has been women whom I thought I had prior claim to.’

  These words gave Suzanne a warm glowing feeling and yet she still felt angry. ‘Now you’re being silly. You heard what your brother called me, a child. He obviously disliked me.’

  ‘Perhaps, perhaps not. It does not matter, as long as you disliked him.’

  ‘Well, I did,’ she said impatiently. ‘And I think this conversation is all rather pointless. You will be going to your apartment tomorrow and I’ll probably never see you again.’ She badly wanted to see him again, but in the last few minutes she had learnt that you could not go on looks alone. Vidal Martino might be perfect to look at, but his jealousy of his brother over even the little things certainly wasn’t an endearing quality. But perhaps he had good reason to feel that way—who was she to judge?

  ‘You will most certainly see me again, Suzanne,’ he said softly, caressingly, and Suzanne felt her bones melt at the warmth in his eyes. ‘We will meet often. You are staying long in London?’

  Suzanne shrugged. ‘Until Celeste says we leave.’

  ‘I see. Then I could perhaps call on you some time during the next few days? I am unsure of when it will be,’ he grimaced. ‘Cesare will make sure I make reparation for losing the Grant contract, so I will probably be kept busy.’

  ‘I wouldn’t like to cause any more trouble between the Conte and yourself,’ Suzanne said stiffly.

  Deep brown eyes looked at her imploringly. ‘Please do not be angry, cara. I would like very much to see you again. Answer truthfully, would you like to see me also?’

  ‘Well, yes, but I—’

  ‘Then it is settled.’

  Suzanne would have liked to point out that he might find it quite difficult meeting Celeste and herself without Celeste actually finding out about it, because it was a sure fact that her stepmother didn’t intend sharing Vidal with anyone. But the temptation to see this fascinating man again was too much for her. Why should she care about the Conte’s disapproval if Vidal didn’t? And it was only when reminded of his brother that Vidal became not quite the man of her dreams, and she doubted very much if she would ever meet the Conte again. She nodded her head wordlessly.

  Vidal grinned. ‘Good. Would you care for a short walk in the garden? It is still quite warm and the perfume delightful.’

  She knew that if she went out into the garden with him he was bound to kiss her goodnight, and her senses jumped in anticipation. Why not? This was London, sin city some people called it, so why not accept a kiss from a romantic Venetian? She smiled at him shyly. ‘I would love to.’

  The garden seemed more than usually beautiful and Suzanne walked with this tall Venetian as if in a hazy dream. Everywhere appeared to have a special look and the flowers a strong heady perfume, and she knew this was entirely due to the presence of Vidal Martino. Never before had she felt so breathlessly nervous, as if she were floating on a silver cloud. This had to be love, this wild beating of her heart and the excitement of her senses by just being with him. What on earth would happen to her when he kissed her! She felt as if she would faint from pure delight at being in his arms.

  ‘You have beautiful hair, Suzanne,’ Vidal said close against her ear, making her aware of just how close to her he was. A slight movement and his hard thighs came close against the back of her legs and she knew he was standing directly behind her. Her breath caught and held in her throat and she felt afraid to turn around in case she broke the spell. She could feel his soft warm breath on the nape of her neck and she waited expectantly for his next move.

  Strong hands closed firmly around the top of her arms and she was turned slowly to face him. His dark head bent and his lips lightly caressed the hollow visible at the base of her throat. Suzanne quivered with pleasure and sighed her disappointment as those firm passionate lips were reluctantly removed. She could see his handsome features in the moonlight and her heart turned over just at the sight of him.

  ‘You are trembling, Suzanne,’ he said, huskily soft. ‘Do I frighten you?’

  She shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘Ah,’ he smiled gently. ‘Then dare I hope that I—excite you?’

  Suzanne blushed a fiery red. ‘Vidal!’ she said reprovingly.

  ‘Now I have shocked you. It is not shameful to admit to physical pleasure. With you I feel this pleasure. There, you see, I am not ashamed to admit such feelings.’

  ‘But you’re a man!’

  ‘And it is only men who are permitted to feel like this? Come, Suzanne, your studies must have told you differently.’

  ‘I’m not such an innocent, it’s just that it isn’t something one usually discusses.’

  ‘But why not? Sometimes the discussion can be almost as pleasurable as the action. But I will not tease you any more, no matter how delightful you look when you blush. Don’t ever lose that innocence,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘It is a fascinating part of your charm.’

  ‘I have to become a woman some time, Vidal,’ she pointed out, her chee
ks still aflame with colour. No Englishman would ever talk in this way—well, not on such short acquaintance anyway.

  ‘To become a woman does not necessarily mean you lose your innocent approach to life. You are youthful and refreshing and it would be a great loss for you to become hardened and sophisticated.’

  Suzanne could quite well believe this was the type of woman he usually entertained; wasn’t Celeste such a woman? ‘Thank you,’ she smiled shyly. ‘I think that’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever had.’

  Dark velvet eyes held her mesmerised and she waited expectantly while his dark head bent slowly for his lips to claim her own. Strong arms held her against the lean length of him and her own arms slowly slid up his shoulders and around the back of his neck to lengthen and deepen the kiss. At first his lips played gently with hers until finally he parted the softness of her mouth to greater explore her sweetness.

  Never before had Suzanne experienced such a caress. It was beautifully sweet while being temptingly serious. And yet she felt disappointment too. No flashing lights and sounds of thunder to tell her this was the man she could love, and yet his kiss gave her more pleasure than she had felt before with any man. But no flashing lights and sounds of thunder! This knowledge spoilt everything. Was she to believe Celeste and admit that these things just didn’t happen? It would appear so, because she felt sure she was falling in love with Vidal Martino.

  She felt bereft when at last those lips were removed but sighed with pleasure as he moved to continue his exploration of her creamy throat and shoulders. ‘Vidal!’ She couldn’t suppress her groan of pleasure at his touch.

  ‘You are beautiful, Suzanne, so beautiful.’ He drew back regretfully. ‘But for now we must part. I will call you and arrange a meeting. You will come?’

  Her eyes glowed and her lips throbbed and it was all she could do to nod her agreement. A fleeting touch of lips and Vidal was leading her back into the hotel. They parted at the lift doors with a formal goodnight and at Suzanne’s surprised expression Vidal looked pointedly at the hotel receptionist, who was watching them with unconcealed curiosity.

 

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