His eyes deepened with mockery. "That will not be easy. I am, after all, a guest of your family."
"Of my stepmother," she-corrected. "Don't expect anything but contempt from me." She swung away from him, her room seeming even more of a haven now.
"Sophie? Sophie, where are you going?"
She inwardly groaned as she recognized- Nicholas's voice. She had forgotten his-very existence the last few minutes. She fixed a smile on her face before turning to face him.
"How are you enjoying yourself, Nicholas?" she asked politely.
"Well, I— It's all right, I suppose. But I came here to see you. You haven't said yet whether you'll come over for tea tomorrow."
She was even more determined not to leave the house -tomorrow now. She wanted to keep her eye on her stepmother and Luke Vittorio. "Not tomorrow, Nicholas. Perhaps next weekend," she added at the disappointment on his face. "You promise?" He clutched at her hand.
"I can't promise that, Nicholas," she answered lightly, doing her best to release her hand without appearing too obvious. "Ask me later in the week."
"Oh, but—"
"Please, Nicholas." She put up a hand to her throbbing temple. "Don't go on about it now. I—I can't think straight."
He frowned his concern. “Aren't you feeling well?"
She gave a strained smile. "It's just a sick headache. I was going to lie down when you stopped me."
"Without saying good-night to me?"
She sighed. "I just want to lie down, Nicholas. Good manners don't come into it when you feel like this."
"No, of course not. How thoughtless of me. I—"
"Are you all right, Sophie?" Her father had come to stand at her side. Her pale face must have answered for her. "Come on." He put an arm about her shoulders. "Let's get you up to your room."
She smiled at him gratefully. "Call me in the week, Nicholas," she called, hoping he would do no such thing.
Her father guided her up to her room before helping her to undress and get into bed. He bathed her hot forehead for her. "Now, what happened to you?" he asked gently. "Too much wine?"
She grinned ruefully, knowing she could never tell him the real reason for her sudden sickness. "Probably," she agreed.
"I don't suppose young Sedgwick-Jones helped." He smoothed back her hair. "He really is a pushy young man."
She smiled at the understatement. She looked at her father, noting bow, handsome he was even now at fifty-five. He was a tall man, not running to fat as many of his contemporaries were, with only faint touches of gray in his thick brown hair. A handsome, distinguished man in his own right, and yet for some reason he and her stepmother had lost that vital spark between them.
Seeing her stepmother's obvious interest in Luke Vittorio had opened her eyes to so many things. It wasn't just her parents' apparent differences in life-style that held them apart; there was something else, too. She had only noticed this coldness between them the last couple of years, and her stepmother's more arid more frequent visits up to London. Or perhaps it had always been there and she hadn’t noticed it. She had been away at boarding school until she was seventeen and hadn't had much chance to observe them together.
But she was sure her father was still deeply in love with Rosemary, and knew that he could be deeply hurt by Luke Vittorio. But she wouldn't let it happen. She would stop it somehow.
She smiled shakily at her father as he tucked the covers in around her. "I love you, daddy," she said huskily.
He gave her a strange look, a slight frown on his face. "I know you do, poppet. And I love you. Rest now—try to get some-sleep. And no wine for you next time."
She kept up her smile until he had left the room. She didn't know how she was going to do it, but she was going to stop this affair between her, stepmother and Luke Vittorio. After all, there couldn't be anything serious between them, certainly not on Luke Vittorio's part anyway, as his many affairs were well-known.
And he had brought Eve Jeffers with him, although she could just be a smoke screen. The model seemed to know something was going on, but perhaps she didn't know enough. Or perhaps she didn't care. There was no chance, of the affair becoming a serious one, so perhaps the model was just biding her time. That seemed the most logical explanation, and it would explain her bitchiness-toward
Rosemary.
Sophie looked up with a start as her stepmother came into the room .She couldn't remember the last time Rosemary had been in here.
Her stepmother looked down at hen "Your father tell's me you aren't feeling well."
"No," she agreed huskily, kneading the sheet between thumb and finger.
"What's wrong with you?"
" Just a-sick headache."
Rosemary frowned. "Your father seemed to think it was the wine."
"Yes."
"I suppose this is your excuse for your rudeness earlier on," Rosemary snapped.
Sophie had known this was coming, had known since her outburst to Luke Vittorio at the dinner table that her stepmother would not let the incident pass. And in the light of her discovery about the two of them Rosemary's anger was all the more understandable. She wouldn't want to lose the handsome Italian because of the rudeness of her stepdaughter.
"Yes," she nodded.
Her stepmother's blue eyes were coldly angry. "What sort of an answer is that?"
"I, well, I just don't like Mr. Vittorio." Was it her imagination or did she see a faint glimmer of relief in her stepmother's face. If she had it didn't show now.
"Don't be ridiculous—everyone likes Luke."
"Well, I don't," Sophie said sulkily.
"It isn't that important, anyway. He'll only be painting you, nothing else."
Oh, yes, he would, he would be providing a perfectly respectable reason for her stepmother and himself to keep in contact, to occasionally be seen together. Well, not if she could help it!
"I don't want to be painted by him."
"You'll do as you're told." Rosemary had obviously run out of patience with her. "And I don't want any more rudeness to him. Your father would be very shocked if he knew of your behavior."
Not if he knew the real reason behind it! "Yes, mommy."
Rosemary gave her a sharp look, suspecting sarcasm arid finding none. "I'll see you in the morning." She slammed out of the room.
Sophie kept a watchful eye on her stepmother and Luke Vittorio all the next day, although there was really nothing to witness today. Perhaps Luke Vittorio had learned by his folly of the previous night, but he seemed to keep a polite distance between himself and the other guests, and Eve Jeffers appeared to be the only person he talked to.
Helen duly arrived for tea, blushing profusely after
Sophie had introduced her to the artist. "Gosh, he's lovely. "She couldn't take her eyes off him.
Sophie gave her a disgusted look. "He's arrogant and conceited."
Helen's eyes widened before her gaze wandered back to Luke Vittorio as he stood talking to Sophie's father on the bother side of the room. She couldn't seem to see anything but the handsome Luke Vittorio, loving the way the cream trousers and shirt clung to his muscular body and accentuated his swarthy coloring.
"Surely not," she said breathlessly.
"Believe me, he is." And he had no right to be talking so casually to her father, not when he was having an affair with his wife. But a man like that wouldn't give a damn.
"Oh, look," squealed Helen. "They're coming over."
And they were, too, the two men talking amicably together. Her poor father. It wouldn't occur to him to suspect this man of being interested in his wife. Her father smiled at the two girls. "Mr. Vittorio—Luke—has just been telling me that he would very much like to paint you, Sophie," he told her triumphantly.
She raised shocked eyes to that dark satanic face, flinching at the cold disdain for her in his eyes, "I don't—"
"Of course I will not be able to travel down here for your sittings," Luke Vittorio spoke for the first time. "Yo
u will have to visit me at my apartment in London for that."
CHAPTER THREE
"OH, BUT—"
Her father frowned. "Surely that isn't necessary, Luke. A couple of sittings down here would be enough."
Luke shook his head. “I am afraid not. I do not work , that way. I cannot work from sketches, and as I said, I do not have the time to travel down here for the necessary sittings."
Sophie was speechless after her first words of protest. She didn't want to travel up to London to see this man, visit his apartment, spend any more time in his> company than she needed to. The glittering satisfaction in his deep brown eyes told her that he was enjoying her discomfort; and she knew with sudden clarity that this was his revenge on her for her rudeness of yesterday. Well, his satisfaction would be short-lived.
"Mr. Vittorio's right, daddy," she said with a smile, looking for some sign of surprise on the artist's face and finding none. An expert at hiding his true feelings was this man. That just made her all the more determined to thwart him. If he expected her to protest at his proposed plan he was going to be disappointed. "I can travel up to London on the weekends. I could stay at the apartment with mommy." And so make it awkward for the couple to meet!
Her father looked undecided. "I suppose it is a solution, I must admit that when your mother first suggested this I didn't realize I would have to lose my daughter's company on the weekends, too."
"Perhaps mommy will come home and keep you company," Sophie suggested, although she doubted it very much.
As if on cue her stepmother joined their little group, smiling her pleasure when told of the proposed portrait. She put her hand in the crook of Luke's arm, smiling up at him, looking very petite against his superior height.
"That's marvelous, Luke," she said huskily. "It means we'll see a little more of you."
Not if Sophie could help it! Perhaps this was a good idea after all; perhaps this was a way to stop this affair before it became too important. "Not really, mommy," she put in quietly. "It just means I’ll see more of Mr. Vittorio."
China-blue eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" The seductive purr was gone from her voice.
"I'll be staying at the apartment and visiting Mr. Vittorio at his home;" The way she put it, it sounded like an intimate arrangement.
A fact Luke Vittorio was quick to notice. "For professional reasons only," he said softly.
"But, of course." She glared at him. The remark hadn't been meant for him.
"Yes, of course," her stepmother echoed sharply. "And when is all this to start?"
"I will call Sophie when I am free," Luke replied. "It will not be for a few weeks yet, as I am engaged in other work at the moment."
Sophie, didn't speak ,to him again until after dinner, deliberately seeking him out before he left. "I'll look forward to seeing you again, Mr. Vittorio," she said tauntingly.
"I am sure you will," he returned mockingly.
"Just tell me this, why did you agree to paint me?" Her curiosity had got the better of her.
He raised a dark eyebrow as he slowly studied her from head to foot. "Why should I not? You will make an interesting study. There is a coolness outside belied by the heated passion inside. I will enjoy trying to capture this elusiveness of yours."
Sophie's face was fiery red by this time. "I'm sure you're reading things into my character that simply aren't there."
"I do not think so." He crossed one well-shod foot over the other.
They were seated together on one of the sofas, Sophie slightly unnerved by his closeness. He was clothed in a cream suit and brown shirt open at the neck to reveal the thick mat of hair that she felt sure covered most of his body, and if anything he looked even more attractive than he had the previous evening. He would be leaving shortly, which probably accounted for his less formal attire.
"I do," she disagreed. "It isn't heated passion you can detect, it's burning anger."
''We shall see."
"We most certainly will not!" She sat forward hi her agitation.
He laughed softly. "How you delight in jumping to conclusions. You seem to do it often where I am concerned. One of these days you will realize how foolish your thoughts are concerning myself." He stood up.
"But not yet. That will come with time."
"Time is something I don't intend to give you too much of. "She glared up at him.
"You will give me all the time I want," he told her haughtily. "It could lead to some awkward questions from your father if you do not—and I am sure you would not want that. Would you?"
"No, I wouldn't, damn you! Is this portrait so important to yon that you'll go to these lengths?" she demanded disgustedly.
He shrugged. "I will not know that until I actually begin. I look forward to seeing you again soon." He bowed arrogantly.
"I'll make sure it's a memorable meeting."
His teeth flashed whitely in his swarthy face. "I am sure you will."
SHE DIDN'T FEEL QUITE SO CONFIDENT as she traveled up to London for her first sitting four weeks later. She wasn't looking forward to seeing Luke Vittorio again for all of her bravado at their last meeting. As it had turned out, she hadn't been the one to talk to him on the telephone when he finally called to arrange this sitting, for she had been at Nicholas's having at last given in to his persuasion to visit his house for tea.
As she had expected, Mrs. Sedgwick-Jones hadn't, stopped listing her son's virtues all the time she was there, virtues that to Sophie seemed to make him even more unsuitable as a husband for her. She was disappointed therefore when she returned home to find Luke Vittorio had telephoned in her absence—disappointed because she would have enjoyed another of their verbal clashes.
But now she was going to London and would see him face-to-face, and she found the prospect a little daunting. Today she would be meeting him on his home ground, and she was very aware of the fact that she would be at a disadvantage. As a guest in her parents' home he had not been as forthright as she suspected he could have been, but any rudeness from her here would not go unpunished.
But first she ha& to face her stepmother. The two of them had seen little of each other the last four weeks, and Sophie could feel herself tensing for their meeting as she traveled in the taxi from the station.
As it turned out she needn't have worried, as Rosemary was out when she reached the apartment. A solitary lunch was served to her by Bernard, the butler. He was a silent individual, revealing only that her stepmother had gone shopping and was meeting Mends for lunch. She hadn't
?
expected Rosemary to be overjoyed to see her, but she hadn't expected her to be out, either.
She had no idea what she was supposed to wear for this painting. Luke Vittorio hadn't said and she hadn't thought to ask., Her stepmother could probably have advised her, but she hadn't been very approachable lately; in fact she had rarely been home. Consequently Sophie had brought a couple of dresses with her, hoping to consult her stepmother when she reached London. She had traveled down in jeans and a purple sun top, having decided to have a refreshing shower before changing for her meeting with Luke Vittorio.
Her stepmother came into her bedroom just as she was coming out of the bathroom, her hair secured on top of her head, her only cover a luxurious bath towel. She looked uncertainly at Rosemary, not sure of her welcome.
"So you've arrived," her stepmother snapped.
So she had been right to feel unsure—her stepmother definitely wasn't pleased to see her. "Yes," she answered quietly, unpacking fresh underwear so that Rosemary wouldn't see her nervousness. "
Rosemary was looking beautiful in an emerald-colored silk dress that clung to her curves before flaring out from her narrow waist. Her shoulder-length hair curled pro vocatively around her beautiful face.
She picked up the jeans and sun top with obvious distaste. "You surely aren't thinking of wearing these?"
"Well, I—"
"How you love to disgrace your father and me. Didn't you brin
g anything more suitable to wear? I'm sure Luke didn't intend for you to look like a street urchin."
"I couldn't give a damn what Luke wants me to look like."
Her stepmother's eyebrows rose tauntingly. "Of course,-you don't like Luke, do you?"
"I can't stand the man!"
'Perhaps that's as well," Rosemary said throatily. "I’m sure he wouldn't care to be bothered with a teenage crush."
Sophie gave a hard laugh. "He has no need to fear that."
"No, that's what I told him."
"Wh—what you told Mm:…"
"Oh, yes. That was the only reason he agreed to do the painting."
"You mean he actually had the nerve to think that I— The nerve of the man!"
"Not really. He's rather handsome, fascinating actually. Women are always making fools of themselves over him.� He just wanted to be sure you weren't in that category.''
�"Well, I'm not," Sophie said angrily, putting the jeans and sun top back on over her briefs and bra in a gesture of defiance. Luke Vittorio could make what he wanted of her clothing. .
"Oh, I assured him of that." Rosemary went to the door. "But please behave yourself this afternoon. Luke is a…friend of mine." :
Sophie hadn't missed the slight hesitation before the word "friend."
"I'll be very polite to your…friend." she retorted.
Her stepmother gave a sweet smile. "I was going to come with you, at Luke's request, but I would" find it boring watching him work all afternoon."
"I see." Sophie looked at her wristwatch. "I had better be leaving. I wouldn't want to be late."
"No, Luke dislikes unpunctuality." .
Damn Luke and what he liked or disliked! She was tempted to tell the taxi driver to take a detour so that she would deliberately be late, but ther desire passed as she thought of arriving at Luke Vittorio's apartment only to be refused admission due to her lateness. .
She was obviously expected—her name acted like magic as the elevator was called for her. She had the feeling that she would have been politely but firmly ejected if her name hadn't been on the commissionaire's list. Still, it was only natural that someone of Luke Vittorio's fame would want to protect his privacy.
Carole Mortimer - The Flame of Desire Page 4
