'So it is,' Jake drawled softly, and, tightening his hold on her shoulder, his lips caught and captured hers in a long, drugging kiss. He raised his head, his black eyes gleaming devilishly. 'But I have a much more urgent need of my own,' he murmured the words against her cheek. 'And in my grandmother's house it will be separate rooms and celibacy.' He kissed her again.
"Then why?' Why had he bothered bringing her? she pondered. It didn't make sense.
'Katy, stop with the questions. We have arrived.'
She looked around and saw the landing stage. She began to rise, but Jake pulled her back. 'No, there are people around,' she remonstrated, believing he was going to kiss her again. Instead he took her hand and slid a ring on the third finger of her left hand. She looked down: diamonds and emeralds glittered back at her; it looked very old and very valuable. 'Why do... ?' She never finished the question as he kept a tight hold on her hand and led her on to dry land.
'Jake, wait a minute! Why the ring? It looks very expensive. I don't want-----'
'Katy, shut up. It is for appearances' sake only. I am well known in Venice and I would not insult my grandmother by introducing her to my mistress. For the duration of our visit you will be my fiancee. As for the expense, it's a second-hand ring for a second-hand woman—very appropriate,' he said curtly.
In her modelling career Katy had stayed in some of the great hotels in the world, but the Cipriani must rank among the best, she thought wonderingly. Situated on Giudecca Island and set in beautiful gardens, it had everything.
Jake, with his hand at her elbow, kept up a running commentary on the delights of the place, a swimming pool and tennis court—the only ones in central Venice— a health studio and sauna, and situated only a brief boat ride from St Mark's Square.
The receptionist treated Jake as an honoured and obviously well-known guest. Katy felt a swift stab of—could it be jealousy? He must have entertained plenty of other women here, she thought balefully, to be so instantly recognised.
The suite the porter, showed them to was stunning. Katy, her curiosity aroused, wandered around as Jake dealt with the porter and their luggage. A sitting-room, a bedroom with an enormous bed centred on a raised dais, and a positively decadent bathroom. She had an impression of polished marble, rich fabrics and subtle colours blended to give an ambience of exclusive grandeur.
'Do you want to dine here or down in the restaurant?'
Jake's voice startled her. She swung around on her heel to find him standing only inches away, his dark eyes watching her with a brooding intensity that sent & frisson of awareness tingling down her spine.
'The restaurant.' It would be safer, was her first thought.
'Now how did I know-you would say that?' Jake drawled mockingly.
'Well, it is a lovely hotel, and I'm sure the dining-room must be marvellous, and I like the idea of getting dressed up..." She was babbling, but could not seem to stop.
Jake took a step towards her, and she looked somewhere over his left shoulder, determined to retain her control. Unfortunately her vision was filled with the very large bed. The bed she would very soon share with Jake, and the thought did nothing to help her poise at all...
'You must allow me to help you get "dressed up".' Jake strung the words out as his long fingers deftly unbuttoned the jacket of her suit while his lips softly pressed to her brow, the tip of her nose, and softly, very softly, down to her generous mouth.
She stood stock-still, her heart pounding in her chest as he dealt in the same fashion with her blouse. Katy told herself to move; she lifted her foot to take a step back but unfortunately her body had other ideas and instead she stepped forward.
'I love this outfit, but I much prefer what it's hiding,' Jake mouthed huskily against her lips as his hands eased the jacket and blouse off her shoulders.
'Mmm,' she said dreamily, her slender arms winding around his strong neck. 'It was one of Claude's favourites.'
'I should have guessed.' The harshness of his words pierced the sensual haze that surrounded her. She stared up at him, her senses registering the thick sound of his anger, and stiffened slightly. His hand covered her breasts, and his mouth found hers with a savage bruising passion that within seconds had swamped her slight resistance.
A primitive hunger, a want, a powerful need swept away any lingering inhibitions in Katy's mind.
Jake, with speed and expertise, stripped them both naked, and in a tangle of arms and legs, touching, tasting, they sank to the floor in a wild passionate coupling.
'Jake!'
'Katy!'
Their cries mingled as their bodies fused and ignited in a mutual explosive release.
Jake lay on top of her, his skin hot and damp against her own, his breath rattling deeply in his throat. Katy, eyes closed, trailed her hands lovingly down his shoulders, his broad back. He might never love her, but he had shown her he wanted her with a fierce passion he could not deny after tonight.
'Did I hurt you, Katy?' Jake rasped throatily. He eased his large frame to one side and, leaning over her, with one hand he gently stroked a few strands of hair from her flushed cheek. 'I didn't mean to.'
Her lips parted in a slow wide smile. 'I'm fine; more than fine,' she sighed, her sea-green eyes lazily lingering on his darkly flushed face.
'God, Katy, we never even made it to the bed.' He shook his head as if to dispel some unpleasant thought. 'I'll make it up to you tomorrow—I'll buy you a whole new wardrobe as a present.'
'That's not necessary.' A present reminded her of her position as his mistress and her quick visit that morning to the family planning clinic; she could only pray the Pill acted immediately. It was some consolation that the first time they had made love four years ago there had been no unfortunate repercussions.
Restlessly she moved. 'This floor is rather hard; do you think we could move?' she queried. Keep it light, she told herself and teasingly ran a slender hand down his chest, his stomach.
Immediately Jake stood up and swept her up in his strong arms. 'Sorry, Katy; I promise you I'm not usually so impetuous.' And for the rest of the night he proved it to their mutual satisfaction.
They never made it to dinner; instead at midnight they rang room-service for champagne and sandwiches.
Venice. Katy stared around her in keen fascination as the motor launch sped through the water. Jake laughed at her wide-eyed wonder while pointing out the more famous monuments. He reluctantly refused to allow her to stop at St Mark's Square—there was not time—but promised they would return later.
The private launch sped on. The Grand Canal, lined with magnificent buildings, meandered its way through the unique city on the water. Katy's head flew from side to side as she tried to assimilate the beauty and variety of the buildings. Imposing palaces, dating back to the time of the Venetian Empire, jostled side by side with colourful houses.
The breath caught in her throat as the launch stopped at a private landing stage in front of a genuine pink-washed Venetian palace. The long windows were perfectly arched and intricately decorated in handsomely sculptured plaster and frail lattice woodwork. The delightful romantic balconies reminded her of Romeo and Juliet, although it was the wrong city.
'What is this place?' she asked Jake softly as he helped her off the launch and up a few steps to the massive entrance doors.
'My grandmother's house. The Palace Luzzini.' The door swung open and, hanging on to Jake's arm, Katy walked inside.
She smiled shyly at the old gentleman Jake greeted in Italian, then her eyes widened in amazement as she looked around the enormous hall.
The morning sunlight streamed through lofty windows sparkling like diamonds, and on to a huge, delicate cobweb of a chandelier, the superb glass reflecting every colour of the rainbow. A grand marble staircase curved upwards to the next floor, the stair-rail a masterpiece of the wood-carver's skill.
At the top stood a tall, exquisite-looking lady dressed in an elegant navy wool gown, the colour broken by a fine hand-pr
inted silk scarf in reds and blues draped casually around her neck and over one shoulder. Impossible to tell her age—anything from forty to eighty, Katy thought.
'Nonna’
This was Jake's grandmother! Katy watched Jake rush up the stairs and kiss the older woman on both cheeks. They were both talking at once in rapid Italian. Finally Jake took his grandmother's arm and led her down the stairs. Katy felt a swift stab of envy as she saw the look of love and respect in Jake's eyes. Would he ever look at her like that? Not very likely...
The change in him astounded her. Somehow, although she knew he was half-Italian, she'd always thought of Jake as very British, but in this setting he was transformed into an emotional, thoroughly Latin male.
She smiled warily at the two of them, feeling a bit like a spare wheel, but Jake flung his arm around her shoulders, and, turning a beaming smile on her bemused face, he said, 'Katy, darling, my grandmother. Nonna, my fiancee Kathleen.'
Katy responded formally, 'How do you do?' and held out her hand, only to find herself swept against the other woman and soundly kissed on both cheeks.
'Your English formality!' she grinned. 'Please call me Maria, and I will call you Kathleen. I have waited such a long time to meet you that I feel as if I know you already.'
What did the woman mean, 'a long time'? Katy was puzzled, but before she could form a question Jake once more flung his arm around her. She felt like a spinning-top.
'I have to leave now, sweetheart; I will be back this evening, but, don't worry, Nonna has strict instructions on how to entertain you.' And, with a brief, hard kiss on her open mouth, he murmured so only she could hear, 'And behave yourself, I will not have Nonna upset,' and left.
Three hours later Katy, hot and exhausted, ruefully recognised where Jake got his arrogant autocratic manner from. It was twelve-thirty, lunchtime, and the two women were being ushered out of the door of an exclusive boutique on the Merceria, the expensive shopping street running from St Mark's to the Rialto.
Jake, in his usual devious manner, had got what he wanted. His instructions to his grandmother had been to take Katy shopping. Maria thought it was for a trousseau; Katy knew different, but did not dare say anything, Consequently she had spent all morning getting in and out of clothes. She shuddered to think what the final bill had come to. Casual co-ordinates, day dresses, lingerie, evening wear, shoes, bags, the lot... Maria had insisted.
Thankfully Katy followed Maria into the palace, and to a small dining-room, where the table was laid for two. The older woman was inexhaustible, Katy concluded, as over lunch she barely paused for breath.
'You know, of course, Katy, when the tragedy happened Jake was a tower of strength. I don't think I could have survived without him.'
'Tragedy?' Katy queried.
'You do not know? I lost my daughter—Jake's mother—my son and my brother all at once. They were skiing in the Dolomites... an avalanche. It was terrible, but Jake stepped in to look after the family firm. He need not have done; he is more English than Italian, but he has great heart. Carlo, my other grandson, will eventually take over the running of Luzzini's when he is twenty-five in two years' time. So you need not worry that I will be forever calling for Jake when you are married. But now enough of tragedy. You must have a siesta. Tonight we have a grand engagement party. You will wear the green ballgown; I think that was the most beautiful.'
Katy choked on her coffee and stumblingly agreed. An engagement party. God, what a mess... Jake would have a fit.
By eight o'clock that evening Katy was a nervous wreck. She was pacing the corridor outside her bedroom, and had been for the past half-hour. She needed to speak to Jake; fury and fear in equal proportions shadowed her lovely eyes. She looked down at the ring glittering on her finger. An engagement party! The guests were due to arrive any minute. What the hell was Jake playing at?
'Waiting for me, Katy, darling? I'm flattered.'
Her head shot up at the sound of his voice. 'At last,' she sighed with relief.
His dark eyes gleamed appreciatively at the beautiful girl before him. She was a vision of loveliness, her blonde hair piled on top of her head in an intricate twist, a few small tendrils escaping to frame her flushed face. Her gown was mint-green chiffon, the strapless bodice moulding her full breasts like the hands of a lover. The skirt fell in soft folds to float around her dainty feet.
'Where the h... ?' Katy stopped, struck dumb by the expression on Jake's face. His brown eyes caressed her and his sensuous mouth parted in the broadest, most beautiful smile she had ever seen. She swallowed hard on the lump that rose in her throat.
'Where have you been?' she breathed softly. 'Have you any idea what is going on? In a few minutes we are supposed to be greeting a horde of guests. An engagement party, for God's sake!' Her voice rose in her agitation. 'Maria has arranged it. What are you going to do?'
'Slow down, Katy. I know. Everything is under control. Give me ten minutes and I will be back to escort you downstairs.'
'But-----'
Jake bent and placed a swift, hard kiss on her parted lips. 'Don't panic...' And he strode on down the hall.
At three in the morning Katy, content in the curve of Jake's arm, said goodnight to the last guest.
'A very successful evening, I think we can all agree,' Maria remarked, a satisfied smile on her face. 'If you two young things don't mind I will say goodnight. At my age late nights are reflected on my face for days afterwards.'
'Nonna, you love them and you know it.' Jake grinned at his grandmother. 'Thanks for a marvellous party.' And without releasing Katy he bent and kissed the older woman's cheek.
Katy added her thanks to Jake's. It had been a glittering evening. Her earlier panic had quickly vanished as Jake, looking magnificent in a black evening suit, had proudly introduced her to a hundred people. He had been the perfect partner, keeping her by his side all night; he had played the part of doting fiance to perfection. So much so that after a couple of glasses of champagne Katy had found herself swept up in the make-believe.
'My pleasure, children, my pleasure. Don't be long in going to your rooms. This is not the Cipriani but my home.' The last was said as Maria ascended the stairs.
Katy flushed fiery red. 'My God, Jake, she knows'.'
Jake burst out laughing. 'I'm sure she does. That woman knows everything that goes on in Venice. I swear she has a better spy system than the CIA.'
Katy's laughter joined his—she couldn't help herself; the euphoria of the evening was still with her; and, arm in arm, they walked upstairs.
At the door of her bedroom she went willingly into Jake's arms, and the kiss they shared was like none other. It was tender and passionate, speaking, without words, of happiness shared, friendship, and need. Was it love?
'I told you it would be all right, Katy,' Jake murmured, breaking the kiss. His dark eyes gleamed down into hers. 'Trust me. I know what I'm doing.' And Katy, at that moment, believed him.
'Two more nights before we leave,' Jake groaned, the invitation in her sea-green eyes testing his control to the limit. 'I can't bear the frustration.'
Katy's lips parted in a sensuous, purely feminine smile. 'Poor Jake,' she teased.
'Get going, witch.' And with one more brief kiss Jake opened the door to her room, his large hand on her back guiding her in.
Katy heard the door close and the sound of Jake's footsteps retreating along the hall. She hugged herself with pleasure, and in a dreamy state undressed, washed and fell into bed.
Later she was to wonder if Venice had bewitched her. There was no other explanation for her behaviour.
On Saturday Jake set out to show her Venice. It was a whirlwind tour. They travelled along the Grand Canal and Jake pointed out the Campanile, and the Basilica di San Marco, plus the Palace of the Doges from the lagoon. Then they landed and set off walking. Katy marvelled at the beauty of the buildings, and the Bridge of Sighs brought a lump to her throat as Jake explained it originally linked the Palace of the Doge
s with the prisons and was named apparently from the sighs of the prisoners as they saw the San Marco basin for the last time through the enclosed bridge's small windows.
Hand in hand, they wandered along small alleys and broader walkways. Katy stood in front of the Basilica di San Marco, the very symbol of Venice, and was struck dumb by the sheer beauty of it, the Byzantine facade covered in precious marble, the intricate and exquisite carving of the saints looking as if they would take flight any second.
Jake, completely in tune with her mood, stood silently by her side. Later they had dinner at a small restaurant just off St Mark's Square. They talked and laughed and drank a rich red wine with their huge plates of pasta, and finally they cruised the Grand Canal in a gondola.
Katy had never experienced anything so romantic in her life, and when they finally returned home in the early hours of the morning she told Jake so.
Once more they parted at her bedroom door, and Katy carried the memory of his kiss and the most perfect day of her life on into her dreams.
On Sunday they left Venice. On arrival at London City Airport Jake dashed off to hand in his flight papers, and Katy returned to reality with a jolt...
It had been a wonderful weekend, but a dream. Jake's parting comment echoed in her head.
'God, I can't wait to get you home and out of that suit. Wait here.'
Slowly she removed the diamond and emerald ring from her finger and dropped it in her handbag. The reason for wearing it no longer applied. She was Jake's mistress, nothing more, and for her own peace of mind she would do well to remember that fact. He had dashed them back a day earlier simply to get her into bed. She straightened her shoulders, and when Jake approached she responded to his wide grin with a brief, cool smile.
She was silent on the ride across London. Jake stopped the car outside the apartment, and shot her a quizzical glance.
'Something wrong, Katy?'
'No, of course not. I've had a wonderful trip to Venice, a whole load of new clothes, and I've lied to a nice old lady. What could possibly be wrong?' she queried sarcastically, and reached for the door-handle. Suddenly Jake leant over her and grabbed her wrist.
Dishonourable Proposal Page 12
