Flame of Desire

by Carole Mortimer

Sophie woke to find herself alone in the huge bed, only the tingling of her body and the discarded nightdress left to show her it hadn’t all been a dream. She could hear no sound in the apartment but her own breathing, and a hurried search of the lounge and kitchen showed her that Luke had gone out.

  There was no note, nothing, and all the joy went out of her. She didn’t mean anything to Luke; her body did, but she as a person didn’t. All that was left to her was to get on with trying to live the rest of her life, the life she would lead with Luke, his bedmate and later on the mother of his children.

  The refrigerator needed stocking up if she were to take on the cooking of their meals, the apartment needed cleaning and a few homely touches added. She dressed in denims and a tee-shirt, sure that Luke would have returned by the time she got back with the food.

  She quite enjoyed her shopping spree, her first real task as a housewife, although she had to get a taxi back to the apartment, as the four carrier bags of food were too much for her to carry alone. Luke would be wanting his lunch and she was so looking forward to cooking him the steak she had bought in a moment of extravagance. It wasn’t exactly proof of her culinary expertise, but at least it should prove edible. After all, she had never told him she could cook!

  She had difficulty undoing the kitchen door, her face flushed from her exertions. She could hear the murmur of voices from the lounge and wondered who their visitor was. Perhaps Luke would like her to take some coffee in.

  She opened the kitchen door to find Luke’s dark head bent over a golden female one, their murmured conversation making it impossible for them to hear her entrance. She didn’t need to be told who the female was—Rosemary! She hadn’t even waited a week before coming back into his life.

  She turned to leave, but their conversation held her immovable. ‘It was very clever of you, Luke,’ Rosemary purred. ‘I don’t know how you knew.’

  ‘It was not clever, Rosemary,’ he replied softly. ‘And I am glad that one member of this family knows why I married Sophie.’

  ‘But how long will your marriage last under such circumstances?’

  ‘I have no idea. Until she realises the reason, I should think. I do not think she will appreciate my motives.’

  But she already knew his motives, and hated it. And fool that she was, she was still with him, couldn’t leave him if she tried.

  ‘She’s a silly little fool,’ Rosemary exclaimed, suddenly angry.

  ‘Not a fool, just very young. She does not even begin to realise how I feel about anything.’

  He was wrong, so very wrong. She knew exactly how he felt about her stepmother. God, she was torturing herself listening to this! She had to get out of here.

  ‘Well, I’m glad you married her. I didn’t think I would be, but now everything is working out perfectly.’

  ‘I am glad. And I do not find my lot too hard to bear,’ Luke said dryly.

  Rosemary laughed. ‘I’m sure you don’t!’

  Sophie had heard enough, and closed the door quietly to lean back against it for support. Oh God, back from her honeymoon one day and already Luke was seeing Rosemary! They had probably been out together this morning.

  She collected up the shopping and left the apartment before her presence was discovered. They must never know she had overheard them, that would be too humiliating.

  She escaped to the peace of one of the parks, watching the mothers walking their babies in their prams, the ducks paddling unconcernedly in the lake. Everyone seemed so happy in the midst of her misery. But what could she do? She had known of the affair before her marriage, had known of it and hoped that now she was Luke’s wife it would stop. But did it really make any difference, did it stop her loving him and wanting to be with him? If she were truthful the answer was no.

  She fed the ducks, unconscious of the amount of bread she had given them until she realised half the loaf had disappeared down their eager beaks. It must be getting late, she would have to return soon.

  This time she made a great deal of noise about walking into the apartment, not wanting to interrupt anything more intimate than their private conversation. She was unpacking the shopping when Luke came into the kitchen, looking up briefly to give him a strained smile.

  ‘Where have you been?’ he demanded without preliminary.

  She gave the shopping a wry glance. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

  ‘You have been gone hours,’ he accused.

  ‘A couple, maybe,’ she acknowledged. She shrugged. ‘We needed food, so I went shopping.’

  ‘Why did you not tell me? I could have helped you.’

  ‘You weren’t around to tell,’ she said abruptly, more sharply than she had intended.

  ‘I was in my studio.’

  Her hand hesitated on the refrigerator door. ‘You were?’ That was the one place she hadn’t thought to look, not expecting him to be working.

  ‘Of course. You did not think I had gone out and left you alone?’

  ‘Well, I—’

  He sighed. ‘You did think that. I heard you moving about in the bedroom and then you had gone.’ He picked up the half a loaf that remained. ‘Have you already eaten?’

  She gave a guilty laugh. ‘I fed the ducks.’

  He raised dark eyebrows. ‘I am glad someone has eaten.’

  ‘Are you hungry?’

  ‘I seem to remember being asked that question once before by you. My answer is the same.’

  She backed away from the look in his eyes. ‘Not now, Luke,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I really am hungry. It’s hours since we last ate. You must be hungry too. I didn’t realise it was so late, almost one-thirty. We really should—’

  ‘Stop making excuses, Sophie, I get the message!’ and he slammed out of the room.

  Oh God, she had done it again. She had been right to feel apprehensive about their return yesterday; the honeymoon period was indeed over.

  Lunch was a strained affair, as were most of the meals they shared together over the next few days. The nights were even worse. Luke had meant it when he said she would remain cold if he didn’t warm her—and he certainly didn’t do that. He didn’t touch her.

  She telephoned her father on Thursday morning, inviting him to have lunch with her up in town. He agreed readily, much to her relief. Luke was out for the day, visiting a client, he had said, so she would have the pleasure of seeing her father alone. It would be just the two of them again.

  Her father was already seated at their table when she arrived, his face lighting up with pleasure. ‘Hello, poppet,’ as he saw her seated opposite him.

  His dear familiar face made her want to cry, although that really wouldn’t do. She hadn’t invited him here to burden him with her problems, she had just wanted to be with someone who loved her. ‘You’re looking well, Daddy.’

  ‘Thank you, although the same can’t be said for you. You look drained.’

  She grinned at his honesty. ‘Thank you, Daddy!’

  ‘Well, you do. I know, I know, I shouldn’t have actually said it. Married life isn’t easy, is it?’

  Not her married life anyway. She looked at him anxiously. ‘Everything is all right between you and Rosemary?’

  ‘Couldn’t be better. Of course, she wasn’t very happy about being left behind today,’ he patted her hand, ’but I wanted to see my little girl alone, satisfy myself that you’re really happy with Luke.’

  Sophie frowned. ‘Mummy is at home?’

  He nodded. ‘It’s been nice having her with me for a change.’

  ‘But I—I thought she was back in London.’

  Her father accepted his glass of whisky from the waiter, watching her as she sipped her Martini and lemonade. ‘She came up to town a couple of days ago to do some shopping, but that’s all. Shall we order?’ he indicated the menu.

  Sophie made her choice in a dream. So Luke wasn’t seeing Rosemary today. Another woman, perhaps? Or could he really have been telling the truth when he said he was visiting a client?
r />   She felt sure the meal was excellent, her steak in the mushroom sauce one of the tenderest she had ever had, but it might all have been rubber for all the ease with which she ate it.

  ‘Is that not agreeing with you?’ Her father was watching her as she pushed the food about her plate.

  She came back to an awareness of her surroundings with a start. ‘Agreeing with me?’ she asked vaguely.

  ‘Well, yes. I—I didn’t know if perhaps—I remember your mother used to find certain things—not to her liking.’

  Understanding dawned. ‘Will you be very disappointed not to be a grandfather?’ she asked gently.

  ‘I’m not going to be?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not yet.’

  He put down his knife and fork, taking her hand in his. ‘You have plenty of time, Sophie. Is this the reason for your depression, the reason you sounded so desperate when you called me yesterday?’

  Had she really sounded desperate? Perhaps she had, but that was the way she was feeling at the moment. But her father had enough problems of his own, he didn’t need to be burdened with hers.

  ‘I didn’t mean to sound like that,’ her smile was strained. ‘I hope I didn’t force you into coming up to town today.’

  ‘No one could force me into coming to see my little girl,’ he told her sternly. ‘You know I’ve always been willing to listen to your troubles, helped you when I could.’

  No one could help her in her mindless love for Luke, not even her father, she realised that now. ‘I don’t have any troubles,’ she lied. ‘Goodness, I haven’t even been married two weeks yet!’

  ‘Time is irrelevant. Something is bothering you. Luke is disappointed, is that it? I know these Latin types often put an emphasis on the wife producing a family as soon as possible. Is that what’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing is wrong, Daddy, believe me. I was just missing you.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘And Luke isn’t typical of the Latin type.’

  ‘I suppose not. But I’m not happy about the way you look, Sophie. You aren’t keeping anything from me?’

  ‘Of course I’m not. Now let’s choose a sweet.’ She ate her peach meringue with a look of pleasure to please her father, although the sickly confection made her feel nauseous.

  ‘Why didn’t Luke join us today?’ her father asked as they lingered over their coffee.

  Because she hadn’t even thought to ask him to! He never asked what she was doing, where she was going, and she had seen no reason to inform him of her movements today. ‘He—er—he had to see someone on business,’ she prevaricated.

  ‘The honeymoon’s over already, hmm?’ he teased.

  He didn’t know how right he was! She shrugged. ‘Luke has to work.’

  ‘He’s rich enough not to.’

  ‘He enjoys his work.’

  ‘Mm, well, I hope he isn’t neglecting you.’

  ‘Of course not, Daddy. This is the first time he’s been anywhere without me since we married.’ Which was true; he just spent all his time in his studio, only emerging for meals. ‘He could hardly take me to a business meeting, now could he?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ he admitted grudgingly. ‘But I’d like to have a word with him about the way you look.’

  ‘You’re giving me a complex, Daddy!’ she teased.

  ‘Damn it, he isn’t taking care of you!’

  ‘I’m big enough to take care of myself,’ she soothed. ‘Look, why don’t you come back with me now and you can stay to dinner?’

  ‘I have to look in on the office this afternoon, make sure they aren’t robbing me blind,’ he teased. ‘And then I—I promised Rosemary that I wouldn’t be late home, certainly in time for dinner.’

  She bit her lip. ‘I—I see. Oh well, another time.’

  ‘Now don’t look like that, Sophie,’ he urged.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like I just hit you.’

  She blinked back her tears. ‘Don’t take any notice of me, Daddy. I’m a little emotional at the moment.’

  ‘Only natural in your disappointment.’ Anger entered his blue eyes. ‘That husband of yours should be taking you out, not going to business appointments.’

  ‘I really don’t want a child yet, Daddy.’

  ‘That isn’t the point. I’ve a good mind to call Rosemary and tell her I’ll be late back and come home with you. It seems to me that Luke needs a little plain speaking.’

  ‘No!’ Her voice was sharper than she intended. ‘You promised Mummy, remember.’ And any interference from her father would only alienate Luke even more.

  ‘She would understand in the circumstances.’

  ‘No, really, Daddy,’ she gave a watery smile. ‘Luke wouldn’t like it.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn—’

  ‘Please, Daddy,’ she pleaded. ‘Luke and I will work it out.’

  ‘So you do admit there’s something wrong?’ he pounced.

  She smiled. ‘You should have been a lawyer instead of a businessman! I don’t think you need to look in on the office, no one would dare to rob you,’ she teased, ’you’re too astute. But as you said, marriage isn’t easy.’

  ‘So you don’t want me to speak to that stubborn husband of yours?’

  ‘He wouldn’t like it,’ she repeated.

  ‘Then come down for the weekend,’ he encouraged. ‘That way I could talk to him without making an issue of it.’

  She was tempted, but the coolness between herself and Luke would be all the more noticeable in the company of other people. She wasn’t ready to admit defeat to Rosemary just yet.

  ‘Perhaps later on, Daddy,’ she smiled. ‘I’m not ready to share Luke yet.’

  He drove her back to the apartment. ‘You will call me if you need me?’

  She hugged him, dreading going up to the apartment, to the coolness she would meet there. ‘Don’t worry, I always know who to turn to when I’m in trouble.’

  He patted her cheek. ‘Don’t forget it.’

  The apartment was in silence when she let herself in, although the used crockery in the kitchen pointed to Luke having returned at some time even if he wasn’t here now. Sophie discarded her jacket and brushed her hair before going in search of him. After her mistake of last time she looked in the studio first.

  ‘Luke—’ She stopped in her Tracks as she saw him bending over the female lying on the studio ’couch. His hand slowly left the woman’s shoulder, the material of the gypsy-style blouse she wore pulled seductively off the smooth creamy flesh of that shoulder. Sophie hurriedly left the room as Luke turned to look at her, feeling sick with reaction. It had been another woman.

  She hadn’t gone far before she felt herself spun around, Luke’s face livid with anger. There was something wrong here; she should be the one who was angry.

  ‘What do you think you are doing?’ he demanded, his eyes hard and cruel, a mocking twist to his sensuous lips.

  Her eyes widened at his attack on her. ‘What do I think I’m doing?’ She was astounded.

  His fingers bit cruelly into her flesh. ‘That is what I said,’ he nodded grimly.

  ‘I’m not doing anything—except leaving!’

  ‘Leaving?’ he repeated sharply. His gaze ran slowly up and down her body in insolent appraisal. ‘And where would you go?’ he taunted.

  The look in his eyes made her feel degraded and ashamed, as if he knew the effect his hands on her shoulders were causing. ‘Anywhere away from here,’ she flashed angrily. ‘Anywhere away from you and that—that woman!’

  ‘Madeleine?’ he raised dark eyebrows.

  ‘If that’s her name, yes! I saw you touching her, caressing her—and right here in my own home too!’ Her voice broke at the humiliation he put her through.

  His eyes narrowed, his hands dropped away from her shoulders. ‘I see,’ he said slowly. ‘And why should my touching Madeleine affect you?’

  She gasped at his insensitivity. ‘Because I’m your wife!’

  ‘Are you?’

 
‘Yes, I am. Just because you’ve chosen not to—not to exercise your rights—’

  ‘My rights!’ he exploded, more angry than she had ever seen him. He made a grab for her, pulling her up against him, her feet barely touching the ground, his face only inches away from her own as he glowered down at her. ‘You consider that when I take you I take you as my right? And you get no pleasure from it, I suppose? You do not lie in my arms and beg for my body on yours?’ His mouth turned back in a sneer. ‘Would you like me to show you how you react to my possession? Would you?’ He shook her hard.

  ‘No! No…’

  He thrust her away from him. ‘Perhaps that is as well, I have no intention of exercising my rights. I do not want you!’

  That, more than anything, cut into her, wounding her more than she would ever let him know. ‘Luke, I—’ She broke off, her eyes riveted on the woman standing in the open doorway of the studio.

  The woman she knew only as Madeleine walked slowly into the lounge, a deliberate provocation to the swing of her hips. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything,’ her voice was husky and soft, her pouting lips an open invitation. She looked at Sophie with malicious enjoyment. ‘Shall I leave?’ she asked Luke softly.

  ‘No,’ he said tersely. ‘At least, not alone. I will drive you home.’

  Again those spiteful green eyes rested on Sophie. ‘I wouldn’t want to take you away from your wife.’

  ‘You are not taking me away from anything.’ Nothing of importance, his words seemed to say. He collected a burgundy-coloured leather jacket from the bedroom, shrugging it on over the black fitted shirt he wore with matching trousers. ‘Nothing at all,’ he added grimly.

  He was almost at the door before Sophie found the courage to stop him. ‘I—er—will you be back for dinner?’ she asked breathlessly.

  His hand rested at the redhead’s elbow, his look impatient as he turned to look at Sophie. ‘You said you were—going out,’ he reminded her.

  And he had ridiculed her, as he was ridiculing her now. ‘I—I could have changed my mind.’

  ‘Do not do so on my account.’ He opened the door for Madeleine to pass through. ‘I have no idea when I will be back, so if you do decide to stay in don’t wait up for me,’ he taunted.