The Innocent's Sinful Craving

by Sara Craven

  Zac shrugged. ‘Yet, to possess this house, you were ready to sell yourself to Adam.’

  She stiffened. ‘You have no right to suggest that. I’m involved in a relationship with him, as you know perfectly well.’

  ‘So closely involved that you knew nothing of the Australian scheme.’ It was a statement not a question.

  She bit her lip. ‘Perhaps he needed to be sure of the money before he told me.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ Zac drawled. ‘The money. He wishes, as always, to start at the top, with the expensive house and the lifestyle to match it.’ He paused. ‘So will he ask you to go with him to Australia and share his good fortune?’ His dark gaze was quietly implacable. ‘And, if so, will you agree—become his and leave everything else behind?’

  There seemed little point in lying. Nor was there anywhere left for her to hide. She did not look at him, just shook her head, mutely, defeatedly.

  ‘Then we understand each other. You want Mannion and I, carissima mia, want you.’ He shrugged again, almost casually. ‘In the end, it is very simple.’

  ‘Simple,’ Dana echoed incredulously. ‘In what alternate universe is that?’

  Her breathing had quickened and she saw that he was aware of it too, his eyes studying the rise and fall of her breasts. Her inner disturbance was turning to tumult. She touched the tip of her tongue to her dry lips, only to realise that was not lost on him either.

  And knew that for her own safety, she should get out while she still could.

  He said, ‘It seems your desire for this house is not as strong as you implied.’

  ‘There are ways of fulfilling it that don’t involve marriage,’ she said quickly. ‘For instance, I’d be willing to work here as the housekeeper, as my aunt once did.’

  ‘And put Signora Harris out of her job.’ He tutted. ‘That is hardly fair. And you know my terms. They will not change.’ His smile was cynical. ‘You were prepared to accept such an arrangement with Adam. At least you do not have to pretend to be in love with me.’

  ‘Have you considered your father?’ she asked almost desperately. ‘He must expect you to marry someone more important than a housekeeper’s illegitimate niece.’

  ‘Perhaps, but he has always known that my wife would be my choice alone.’

  ‘You seem to have an answer to everything,’ Dana said bitterly.

  ‘It is your answer that most concerns me. If I am so little to your taste, tell yourself you are really marrying Mannion, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish.’ He paused. ‘All you have to do is choose.’

  The mockery in his voice was not lost on her.

  He couldn’t really mean to marry her—for the reasons she’d stated and more. Principally, because he was not the marrying kind.

  It seemed far more likely that he was baiting her. Tempting her for his own amusement.

  She knew, of course, what she wanted to say—needed to say. That she’d rather die than live with him. Allow him the intimacies he had a right to expect as her husband.

  And he was waiting for her to say it. The slight derisive curl of his mouth as he watched her struggle told her so quite plainly.

  And if—when—she damned him to hell and walked, she’d be once again leaving as a loser, this time with no way back.

  My father’s house, she thought, anguished. My birthright and my mother’s vindication and ultimate happiness. I’ll have lost it all. Everything...

  ‘I am waiting,’ he tormented softly.

  She said, ‘I need time to think...’

  Zac shook his head. ‘I require your answer now. Do we have a bargain—yes, or no?’

  Mannion, she thought. Isn’t that what really matters—that has to outweigh everything else?

  She raised her head. Looked at him. She said huskily, ‘Then I suppose—yes.’ She hesitated. ‘What happens now?’

  She was waiting for him to laugh and tell her that he had indeed been joking. After which, she supposed, she would somehow have to leave with her head held high.

  ‘I suggest a private civil ceremony with Nicola and Eddie as witnesses as soon as the necessary formalities are completed.’

  Then it wasn’t a laughing matter after all. He had it all worked out, she realised with disbelief.

  And swallowed. ‘Do we have to make an announcement? People will think it’s so weird.’

  ‘We do not have to concern ourselves with the opinions of others.’

  ‘I’m sure you don’t,’ she said. ‘Barricaded behind your security, your press office and your PR wall. I have to get on with my life. My job.’

  ‘I fear Jarvis Stratton must become another sacrifice to Mannion. It would be best for you to hand in your notice—effective immediately, and vacate your flat.’ His smile was ironic. ‘Then join me behind the barricade.’

  As her lips parted indignantly, he added, ‘The matter is not open to debate.’

  She drew a deep breath, ‘You want us to—to live together—now.’

  ‘No, cara, I will spare you that. From tomorrow, you will occupy the penthouse suite at the Capital Imperiale, where you met my father. I shall remain at my apartment—and count the hours,’ he added softly. ‘They say anticipation only increases the appetite. I shall enjoy discovering if that is true.’

  Colour flared in Dana’s face. She said unevenly, ‘Please don’t say things like that.’

  She rose, feeling as if the ground was shifting under her feet. ‘Now I suppose I must obey orders and go back to London to pack my things.’

  She was halfway to the front door when she remembered something and turned, almost colliding with Zac who was close behind her.

  ‘I beg your pardon.’ She recovered herself with a gasp. ‘I’ve left my case in the book room.’

  Standing next to it, the champagne looked like a bad joke. Dana snatched at her case, only to realise with horror that she hadn’t closed it properly after taking out the Cristal, and that everything it contained was now cascading to the carpet.

  Including, of course, the sheer black nightgown, which had been a last-minute purchase that morning, born from a kind of desperation. A different sort of Dutch courage, she’d told herself.

  Rooted to the spot, she watched Zac bend to pick it up, studying the shape of his hand through the transparent chiffon. And probably able to read his own fingerprints at the same time, she thought, biting her lip in an agony of embarrassment.

  His voice like ice, he said, ‘A celebration indeed.’

  Rolling it into a ball, he tossed it to her. ‘Please do not think of wearing this for me.’ He added, ‘My tastes, you will find, are very different.’

  He moved to the fireplace and rang the bell. ‘Now you must excuse me. Signora Harris will see you out.’

  Unable to look at him or speak, Dana bundled everything back into the case, and escaped.

  Knowing, as she did so, that any freedom would only be temporary. And that she’d just committed herself to a giant leap into a terrifying unknown.

  * * *

  There were two messages on her machine at the flat, both of them from Nicola, sounding upset and wanting her to call back.

  She’s heard about Australia, thought Dana, and wants to talk about Adam. But I can’t, because I don’t know what to say. And, anyway, I have to try and make sense of today—if that’s possible.

  She stood for a moment in her living room, looking round her.

  It wasn’t large, a third of it occupied by the neat galley kitchen at one end, while the bedroom was even smaller, because some of its space had been used for an en-suite shower room. But, for a single person, it was fine and the rent was—just—affordable.

  She’d painted the walls ivory and furnished with care, picking up a small sofa at auction, which she’d had re-covered in a rich
William Morris fabric costing far more than the sofa itself. Her small Victorian kneehole desk, carefully cleaned and assiduously polished, had been a junk shop bargain.

  Apart from a bookcase and a wall-mounted TV set, that was all. There were no pictures or ornaments to personalise it, as if she was reminding herself that it was not her home, and that she was just—passing through.

  But she hadn’t expected to be giving it up quite so soon, she thought, biting her lip as she carried her case through to the bedroom, and emptied it again, this time on purpose.

  She found the balled-up nightgown and took it to the kitchen together with her coffee-stained dress which she’d exchanged for her bathrobe. Wrapping them both in carrier bags, she buried them deep in the garbage bin.

  She washed her hands, then filled the kettle and set it to boil. She needed food too. Something to dispel the scared, hollow feeling inside her. There was a menu from a Chinese takeaway fastened to the fridge with a magnet, and she decided to order in once her packing was done. Not that there was much of it, apart from working gear. Pitifully little, in fact.

  She supposed she’d have to buy a trousseau. Wasn’t that what brides did? Except she wasn’t a bride in the accepted sense—just part of a deal. But even that imposed certain practical obligations as well as those of an intimate nature that she didn’t wish to contemplate.

  Leaning against the worktop, she said slowly and clearly, ‘I am going to be the wife of Zac Belisandro, one of the wealthiest men in Europe. I shall wear designer clothes, be hostess at his parties and appear at the kind of events I only read about in magazines at the hairdresser’s.’ Then waited in silence for her head to explode.

  When it signally failed to do so, she made herself a mug of strong tea and went back to the bedroom, emptying the contents of the fitted wardrobe and drawers into the school suitcase she’d never bothered to replace.

  No more choices, she thought. She’d take everything and probably keep none of it.

  It was all done, and she was finishing her tea and glancing down the takeaway menu when her doorbell pealed abruptly.

  Nicola, she thought resignedly. And she still couldn’t think what to say to her. How to explain the most bizarre decision of her life.

  She was still trying to come up with an opening gambit when she opened the door, and Adam walked in.

  ‘So you are here,’ was his irritated greeting. ‘They said at Jarvis Stratton that you had a day off, but when I called round earlier, I got no answer. What’s going on?’

  Dana, about to close the door, turned instead to face him. ‘Shouldn’t that be my question?’

  ‘Ah.’ There was an awkward pause. ‘So you’ve heard what I’m planning.’

  ‘Planning,’ she repeated. ‘It’s past that stage surely. I suppose you’re here to say goodbye.’

  ‘There’s plenty of time for that.’ He was recovering fast. Smiling. ‘OK, maybe I should have said something.

  ‘Mea culpa. But I’ve just made myself a small fortune, so put on your glad rags and we’ll go out. Paint the town crimson.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Dana said. ‘But, no.’ She hesitated. ‘You wondered where I was today.’

  He shrugged. ‘What does it matter? You’re here now.’

  She said steadily, ‘Actually, it does matter quite a lot. You see, Adam, I went down to Mannion this afternoon—to congratulate you on being its legal owner at last.’

  ‘Oh, God,’ he said and burst out laughing. ‘And instead you found dear Cousin Zac, master of all he surveys. I thought you were looking a bit blue. Did he throw you out?’

  No point in beating about the bush, she thought, drawing a deep breath. ‘On the contrary, he asked me to stay—as his wife.’

  The laughter stopped abruptly. He said, ‘You are joking—right?’

  ‘Wrong.’ Her mouth felt dry. ‘Zac proposed to me and I—I accepted him.’ She lifted her chin. ‘We’re engaged.’

  A silence. Then Adam said, cold and quietly, ‘You sly, conniving little bitch. You money-grubbing greedy tart. It’s that bloody house. You’re fixated on it—would do anything to get it—just like your lying crackpot of a mother.’

  Dana felt the blood draining from her face. She stared at him, shocked into silence, unable to produce a word in her own defence, if indeed there was anything to say.

  ‘I knew I couldn’t trust you,’ the relentless voice went on. ‘But I thought you’d learned your lesson seven years ago. Clearly, I was wrong.’

  He paused. ‘What I can’t get my head round is how the hell you’ve got him to marry you. Why he hasn’t just screwed you and walked away like he usually does.’

  His smile was a sneer. ‘The clever Mr Belisandro must be losing his grip. First he pays over the market price for an empty heap of stone in the middle of nowhere.

  ‘Next, he’ll have to explain to Papà Ottaviano and Cousin Serafina why he’s polluting the Belisandro name by marrying the village whore’s bastard.’

  ‘Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that.’ Her voice shook.

  ‘Don’t give yourself airs,’ he said. ‘I’ve been a mug myself, letting you get away with the “hands off” treatment you’ve been giving me, while you’ve been opening your legs fast enough for Zac and his millions.’

  He looked her over lasciviously, his eyes stripping away the towelling robe. ‘So what’s the going rate for demonstrating how you turn him on in bed? Give me something to remember you by when I’m far away? Zac wouldn’t begrudge me a quickie. You’re not the first woman we’ve shared.’

  He took a step closer. ‘So, what about it, sweetie? In the bedroom, or here on the floor?’

  Dana said nothing, just lifted her hand and slapped him so hard across the face that the blow jarred her arm up to the shoulder.

  For a moment, he was silent, glaring at her, then he said thickly, ‘You’re going to regret that.’

  ‘No,’ Zac said from the doorway. ‘But you will unless you leave now.’

  Dana whirled, staring at him, wanting suddenly to run to him. To bury her face against his chest and feel him holding her. Making her safe.

  Except that was madness. Zac’s arms were no security zone. She would simply be leaping out of the frying pan into a blazing fire.

  Besides, the ugly brutality of Adam’s words and all they implied was keeping her motionless and nauseated. Words that Zac must have heard during his noiseless approach.

  She could feel the violence in the room, hot and heavy, as Adam’s mouth stretched in another sneer. ‘You really think you can make me?’

  ‘No,’ Zac said softly. ‘I don’t think. I know. So walk, unless you want to be thrown down the stairs.’

  For a moment, Adam’s gaze was murderous, then, with a shrug, he walked past Zac and was gone, leaving them with the sound of his feet descending the stairs in the conventional manner.

  Zac slammed the door and looked at Dana, his eyes cold as he surveyed the bathrobe. ‘Why was he here?’

  ‘I thought he was Nicola and he just—walked in. He wanted to take me out so I—I told him about—us and he freaked.’ She swallowed. ‘That’s all it was. Truly.’

  Zac sighed, pushing his hair back from his face with a restless hand. ‘I was parking my car when I saw him drive up. I thought—Dio—what did I not think?’ He shook his head. ‘Then I heard him—that filth he was saying.’ He smiled thinly. ‘And I saw your reaction, mia cara.’

  ‘It’s as if I never knew him.’ Dana looked at the floor. ‘He became some—ghastly stranger.’ Her voice cracked. ‘It was—horrible.’

  ‘It is over,’ he said. ‘And nothing happened. However, I shall not wait for tomorrow, but take you to the hotel tonight.’

  She knew she should come up with a token protest at the very least. Pride demanded it.

 
Except she was lucky to have any pride left. And if she remained at the flat, there was no guarantee that Adam would not return. Even the possibility made her feel sick.

  She swallowed. ‘If you hadn’t arrived when you did...’ She paused. ‘Why is that, anyway? I thought you were staying at Mannion.’

  ‘I intended to do so,’ Zac returned levelly. ‘But our parting was not as I would have wished.’

  She looked away. ‘Have you changed your mind about the—the bargain?’

  ‘No.’ His brows lifted. ‘Our agreement still stands. Why should you doubt it?’

  ‘I suppose because nothing about today seems quite real.’ She hesitated. ‘Adam said he made you pay too much for Mannion.’

  He shrugged. ‘I paid what it was worth to me.’

  ‘And could you really have thrown him downstairs?’

  ‘Why, yes, mia bella. Quite easily and enjoyed doing so.’ He smiled faintly. ‘Or did you think you had a monopoly on violent gestures?’

  She shuddered. ‘I’ve never hit anybody in my life before.’

  ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘But you would often have liked to, I think.’

  Flushing, she met the amused challenge in his gaze. ‘Perhaps.’

  For a long moment, her eyes were locked with his, then Zac looked away, glancing round him. ‘Your apartment is charming.’ He paused. ‘I presume the furniture belongs to you? Do you wish to have it at Mannion?’

  ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead,’ she confessed. ‘But maybe the desk and the sofa, if there’s space for them. And my books. Everything else can go to a charity shop.’

  ‘I will make the necessary arrangements tomorrow.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She hesitated. ‘As a matter of interest, how did you know where I lived?’

  ‘I made it my business to know,’ he said laconically. ‘Now get dressed, finish your packing and we will go.’

  ‘What about my car?’

  ‘I will have that collected tomorrow and brought to the hotel.’

  Like waving a magic wand, Dana thought rebelliously as she went into the bedroom to change.

  It was a silent journey to the hotel. Dana stood tensely beside Zac in the lift as it whisked them swiftly and silently to the penthouse.