'I am at a loss to know why you should be so furious,' Luke drawled sardonically. 'As I recall, you enjoy my—er—lustiness——' He moved fractionally to one side as her hand swung up towards his face. 'Oh no, my little wildcat. I do not fight with women, and unless severely provoked, I rarely strike one. However, I am sorely tempted to make of you an exception,' he concluded, catching hold of her hands.
'If you so much as touch me, I'll never forgive you.' The last few words choked in her throat, and to her utter consternation angry tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. She could only look at him wordlessly as she tried to wrench her hands out of his grasp. 'You're hurting me,' she whispered as his fingers tightened over the delicate bones of both wrists, and at once the pressure lessened.
'There are times when I could shake you until every bone rattles, such is the degree of anger you arouse,' he declared hardily, then he swore softy. 'Dio! Your tears confound me! I have a girl-child on my hands who continually fights against becoming a woman. Why, cara? You are not averse to my lovemaking, so why create such a storm?'
Still he didn't free her hands, and she tentatively licked away a tear as it came to rest at the edge of her mouth. 'Our entire existence together, even your possession of me, has been stormy,' she said shakily.
'A stormy possession?' Luke drawled sardonically.
'Yes, it has been that. Shall we declare a truce?'
'Do you think we could get through a day without an argument?'
'When we rarely last more than an hour in each other's company without one?' he queried musingly. 'In thirty-six hours we leave to visit my sister. It means a great deal to me that Angelina be convinced of our happiness. Shall we agree not to differ for eight days?'
Sally swallowed painfully. 'As long as you don't become insufferably overbearing, it shouldn't be too difficult.'
Luke's smile became faintly cynical. 'Is that how you see me? You married a Latin, mia sposa. Despite many years in this country, I still retain many of the old ways.'
'A wife should be dutiful, subservient, and,' she declared broodingly, 'never argue with her husband. Unfortunately, I wasn't brought up in those ideals.' She looked up at him in all seriousness. 'We're bound to clash—I guess it's inevitable.'
'Perhaps,' he conceded thoughtfully. 'You can be dismaying self-willed at times—this evening, for example.'
'Can't you understand?' she flashed quickly. 'It will be the first Christmas Daddy and I have spent apart, and besides, I've been preparing his dinner parties for years.'
'But he can no longer lay claim to your services in that direction.' Luke's eyes darkened fractionally. 'You cannot continue playing the role of his social hostess.'
'You expect it of me.'
'You are my wife.'
'Oh, there you go again!' she flung desperately. 'You assume a mantle of arrogance that commands blind obedience, and if I should dare to disobey, you think you have the right to mete out some form of punishment! Well, I refuse to be treated like some recalcitrant child!'
'And I, cara, will not tolerate——' 'You won't tolerate!' she exploded. 'On almost every occasion we've dined out I've come face to face with one of your—conquests. They seem to regard you as some prize I've snatched from beneath their very noses! How do you think it feels to know that they've known you——' she trailed off expressively.
'I pale into insignificance compared with their sophistication. I'm sure they are convinced you've fallen prey to some temporary form of amnesia by marrying me, and they're hanging in there like leeches for the moment you'll tire of your—innocent, boring little wife!'
'My dear Sally,' he murmured musingly, 'you are the antithesis of boring, and for someone who recently assured me she did not care if I took out a hundred different women you are showing quite remarkable jealousy.' He drew her close to look down at her with quizzical amusement. 'Would liking me—even loving me, be such a terrible cross to bear?'
'Yes! And I won't—ever!'
There was a sudden flaring of terrible anger in his eyes that frightened her. 'Madonna mia,' he swore savagely, 'I begin to think there is only one way to silence you!'
The indignity of being flung face down across his powerful thigh was mortifying to say the least, and the slaps he rendered had a stinging quality that hurt abominably long after he'd stood her to her feet.
'Now you have reason to hate me. And be warned,' he threatened with ominous quietness. 'If you dare to provoke me again, I will not hesitate to repeat the spanking.'
As soon as the bathroom door closed behind him Sally gave in to the luxury of silent tears, and spent considerable time mulling vengefully on ways she could get back at him. Without qualification, he was the most tyrannical man she'd ever met! She sat down on the edge of the bed with care. Brute, she accused wrathfully, hating him with every nerve in her body. She'd never been so humiliated in her entire life! He was nothing but an arrogant, domineering—— Oh ! For two pins she'd move into one of the spare bedrooms.
Even as the thought occurred, she was on her feet and slipping out of her clothes with speed, and in less than two minutes she was pulling on a robe over her nightgown.
In the hallway she took down sheets and a pillowcase from the linen closet
'What do you think you are doing?'
Sally spun round and glared at Luke as he covered the distance between them. Her chin lifted defiantly. 'I'm going to sleep in one of the spare rooms.'
'The hell you are,' he said succinctly, and at once her eyes grew stormy, their blue becoming intensified as she vented her anger at him.
'If you think for one minute I'll submit to your love- making after—that——' she spluttered, and became totally infuriated when he took the linen from her hands and tossed it down on to the carpet 'You're nothing but a sadistic brute, Luke Andretti!' she cried, flying at him to flail her fists against his chest until he forced her to stop.
'You are behaving like a spoilt child. Now, stop it, and come to bed.'
'I don't want to come to bed—at least, not with you.' 'You are not a very good liar, piccina,' he drawled, his eyes gleaming sardonically as they rested on her heaving bosom. They travelled with deliberate indolence to her mouth, and it was almost as if she could feel the tangible pressure of his lips on hers. Bending his head, he brushed his lips against her temple, then trailed them down to rest at the side of her throat where a rapidly-beating pulse revealed the true state of her emotions. Gently he nuzzled an earlobe, then his lips found hers in a kiss that rocked her very being.
Coherent thought became lost as she began drowning in the incredible ecstasy his touch evoked, and she was scarcely aware that he lifted her into his arms and carried her towards the bedroom.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MOST of the passengers on the flight from Sydney to Brisbane appeared to be bursting with bonhomie, and doubtless the festive season was responsible.
Sally felt distinctly nervous as the jet touched down at Brisbane airport, and she followed Luke's broad frame across the tarmac with some trepidation. The thought of meeting his sister was daunting, although the children would provide plenty of distraction. Three under five years, and one a baby! Her lips curved into a winsome smile.
'There is Frank,' Luke declared, and Sally's eyes followed the direction of his outstretched arm.
It appeared that Angelina had elected to wait for them at home, rather than bring the children and thus strain the station-wagon to capacity, and during the hour-long drive from the airport to Surfers' Paradise Sally was able to discern that Luke fully approved of his brother-in-law, and what was more, they were firm friends.
Surfers' Paradise was essentially geared for the tourist industry, and high-rise hotels abounded along the shoreline. Scenically, it was idyllic. The ocean looked cool and inviting, the sea a deep translucent green that merged into blue, and breakers rolled inshore to crash softly, thrusting up white foamy spray. A colourful" array of beach umbrellas lined the soft white sand, and throngs of m
inimally-clothed sun-loving tourists lay prone soaking up the warmth of the semi-tropical sun, which at the height of summer was particularly intense.
The station-wagon drew to a halt in the driveway outside a modern brick bungalow, and no sooner had they alighted than two small bundles of boyishly-clad humanity flung themselves helter-skelter at their uncle.
With a laugh Luke gathered them up together and buried his head between each of theirs. It was quite something to witness, and Sally felt the prick of emotional tears at the back of her eyes.
'So—you are Sally.'
She turned swiftly and met the dark eyes in the olive-complexioned features of the girl standing before her. In her late twenties, Angelina Forresto was startlingly attractive.
'Yes—and you have to be Angelina,' Sally returned, smiling at the baby perched on Luke's sister's hip. She was gorgeous, with huge dimples and a positively beauteous smile.
'Those two little terrors temporarily being models of good behaviour in Luke's arms are named Gianni and Luigi,' Angelina indicated with maternal pride. 'And this little angel is Lisa.'
Sally smiled as the two little boys' voices rose to an excited crescendo, and Angelina laughed.
'Let us go inside. Frank will bring the luggage.'
They entered a spacious lounge furnished with cane chairs and settees, on which brightly-patterned cushions lent colour that tastefully blended with cool green walls and polished wood floors. The house appeared quite large, Sally perceived as she followed Luke's sister down a wide hallway. There were four bedrooms, the last of which she was to share with Luke during their stay. There were rugs on the floor, colourful covers on both beds, and ample space for their clothes in the wardrobe.
'Hey, amici, down you go, hmm? As yet, I have not had a chance to say a word to your mamma.' Luke let them slide to the floor, then plucking the baby from his sister's arms he handed the little tot to Sally and greeted Angelina.
'Marriage suits you,' Angelina teased as she stood back to survey him critically, then she turned to Sally. 'I was beginning to despair that he would ever marry and become a papa to his own children. He is rather special, this brother of mine—you are a lucky girl.'
Sally's eyes twinkled wickedly as she looked across at Luke. 'I think he's special, too,' she affirmed with just the right amount of dreaminess in her voice.
'I could develop a swelled head from all this flattery,' Luke declared with a chuckle, and his sister laughed.
'I will leave you to change and unpack your things. Come into the lounge afterwards and we will have a drink before lunch.'
Sally eyed Luke a trifle warily as soon as the door shut. 'Your nephews quite obviously idolise you.'
'You find it difficult to comprehend that anyone could idolise me, mia sposa?'
'Oh, stop being so cynical,' she accused wryly, and cast a glance towards the two beds. 'Which bed will you have?'
His smile was infinitely mocking as he shrugged the jacket from his shoulders. 'My dear Sally, does it matter ? I imagine we will use only one of them.'
'Oh, stop it!' she whispered angrily. 'I thought we were going to observe a truce.'
'I was merely teasing, piccina,' he drawled. 'In which suitcase have you hidden the children's presents? They are splendid, do you not think?'
'The presents or the children?' she queried, deliberately misunderstanding him, and as his eyes darkened fractionally she held up her hands in a gesture of defeat. 'All right, I'm sorry. I think the children are lovely—especially Lisa.' She coúldn't resist a tiny smile. 'Those dimples! She's going to knock the boys for six when she's older.'
Luke clicked open one of the suitcases and began unfolding trousers, then shirts.
'I'll do that,' Sally remonstrated, crossing to his side. 'They'll crease if they're not hung up properly.'
'You sound like a wife,' he murmured, laughing gently, and she tossed him a wry look, tempering it by wrinkling her nose at him.
'I seem to be yours, for better or worse.'
'And I am little better than a monsterish brute—so it must be for worse, hmm?'
Sally couldn't answer him, at least not right then, for a lump had risen in her throat. Seeing him with the two little boys had revealed a side of him she had hitherto not known, and it unsettled her equilibrium more than she wanted to admit. 'At times you're a complete enigma,' she ventured slowly as she hung die last shirt into the wardrobe. 'I'd like to change. Will you—turn your back—please?'
His soft laugh was one of genuine amusement, and his eyes lit with a devilish gleam. 'I am familiar with every inch of you, piccina. Why pretend otherwise?'
A delicate pink tinged her cheeks as she turned away, and she began unpacking her suitcase with determined dedication. He seemed to delight in baiting her, and it simply wasn't fair!
'I shall freshen up in the bathroom,' Luke drawled from across the room. 'You have above five minutes before I return.'
Sally glanced round and saw that he had already changed his suit for casual trousers and a shirt left unbuttoned at the neck. She nodded, not deigning to speak, and as soon as the door closed behind him she stripped down to her underwear, then donned a floral- patterned skirt and a loose muslin top. Her hair needed a quick brush, her lips a touch of colour, and she was ready when Luke re-entered the room.
Together they walked towards the lounge in the front of the house, and as they entered the boys scrambled over each other to reach Luke, who laughingly scooped them up into his arms.
Angelina was openly friendly, and Sally found no difficulty in reciprocating. Her offer to help in the kitchen and with the children was accepted, and although they were slightly cautious, the boys soon forgot their shyness and included her in their conversa-tion.
Lunch was a lighthearted affair, and it was while Sally and Angelina were attending to the dishes that she learnt something which surprised her somewhat.
'Does Luke always spend Christmas with you?' Sally asked idly as she applied the tea-towel to several plates, and Angelina gave her a quick smile.
'We spend it together—not always here. Sometimes Frank and I take the children down to Sydney. Have you known my brother for very long?'
The question was one of genuine curiosity, and Sally gave her answer careful thought- 'About three weeks—give or take a few days. It—it was pretty much a whirlwind courtship.'
Angelina laughed, then cast Sally a wicked grin. 'Luke always did have the knack of making split- second decisions; And knowing him as I do, he would not have given you any chance to change your mind.'
Sally swallowed convulsively and managed a sheepish smile. 'No, not really.'
'You must have both been instantly attracted to one another,' the other girl declared, and Sally made a monosyllabic reply.
This was fast becoming an inquisition of which she wanted little part, and with what she hoped was an adroit change of subject she switched the topic of conversation towards cooking, querying various Italian- style recipes and the assorted herbs and spices used. By the time they'd exhausted that subject the dishes had been disposed of.
However, later that afternoon when both girls were once again in the kitchen, this time to prepare dinner, Sally was given a subtle explanation regarding Luke's association with various women. It was almost as if Angelina wanted to discount them as being of no consequence, Sally thought ruefully, endeavouring to look the radiant newly-married wife who was confident of a mutual love to which no harm could possibly come.
With what she hoped was an understanding shrug, Sally ventured, 'I was aware that Luke had a rakish reputation. He's a very attractive man, and it would be stupid to expect him to have led a blameless existence.'
'He has had his choice of many women, but I doubt he has given a tinker's cuss for any one of them.' Angelina looked suddenly anxious. 'You do love him? I could not bear it if you married him solely for his money.'
Oh dear God! How much worse could this get? Carefully Sally said with considerable constraint, 'ï didn
't marry Luke for any material gain.'
'I am so glad.'
Angelina looked as if she was about to weep with relief, Sally decided wryly, wondering how she was going to stay the distance for eight days. It made her seek Luke's company with undisguised pleasure—so much so that he raised a quizzical eyebrow and bent his head down low to hers.
'Cara, you are very convincing—almost too convincing,' he mocked softly, and Sally gazed at him with as much fondness as she could muster. Anyone looking at them could be forgiven for thinking they were murmuring sweet nothings to each other.
'Darling Luke—the Spanish Inquisition has nothing on Angelina! I'm beginning to run out of evasive replies.'
His eyes gleamed darkly as he smiled, and his face was so close she could feel his breath stir the hair at her temples.
'I am the only family she has,' he explained. 'Consequently her concern is understandable.'
'If this goes on for much longer, I shall need rescuing,' she advised sweetly. 'It might be as well if you do some reassuring of your own.' The words were scarcely out of her mouth before he moved fractionally closer and bestowed a gentle lingering kiss on her parted lips. It shook her composure and tore it to shreds. There was a poignancy about his action she found difficult to assimilate, and his tenderness was almost her undoing. Shakily, she whispered, 'That wasn't quite fair.'
'But all is fair in love and war, is it not, piccina?' Luke mocked gently. 'Besides, you asked for reassurance.'
'I didn't mean a public display of affection,' she murmured fiercely, and was mortified by the devilish gleam that lit his dark eyes. Oh, he was the absolute limit!
Dinner that evening was strictly an informal affair, and later when the children were all asleep and secure for the night there was much laughter as gaily-wrapped gifts were hung on the Christmas tree, and those too big or too heavy were placed on the floor.
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