An Awakening Desire

by Helen Bianchin

  There had to be some sane, logical reason for the way he affected her, surely? Perhaps it was quite normal to wonder what it would be like to sleep with another man? To be able to compare… No! Her mind screeched to a shuddering halt at such a wayward train of thought. Oh God, what was happening to her? Instead of getting better, it was becoming worse with every passing day. If she didn't leave Italy soon, she'd go completely mad!

  'Emma! How lovely you look!'

  She turned slightly and a generous smile curved her lips. Thank you, Rosa. Is there anything I can do to help?'

  'No, cara,' the older woman responded warmly. 'However, there are a few friends who are waiting for an introduction. Will you come and meet them?'

  Two hours and two glasses of wine later Emma was convinced her face had assumed a masklike quality from projecting polite congeniality to a number of people it was unlikely she'd ever see again after tonight.

  There were approximately fifty guests mingling in the luxuriously appointed salone, and she registered the lilt of subdued chatter at the same moment she caught sight of a familiar dark head apparently engaged in conversation with, of all people, Danielle Fabrese.

  Emma's stomach performed a painful somersault, then settled down to a dull ache as her already tautened nerves stretched to breaking point. Somehow she doubted Danielle had been invited on her own account. It was far more likely the model had ingratiated herself as a partner to one of Rosa and Enzo's bona fide guests.

  At that moment Nick glanced up and Emma met his intent gaze with a slight lift of her chin and a hint of coolness in the depths of her gold eyes.

  'Emma. Let me fetch you another drink.'

  She turned towards the owner of that friendly voice and gave Vince such a stunning smile he looked visibly taken aback for an instant. Then his teeth gleamed and a silent laugh parted his lips.

  'Ah, I see,' he mocked lightly. 'You want to use me as a foil to get back at Nick!'

  'Not at all,' she disclaimed quietly. 'You're a very pleasant young man whose company I happen to enjoy.'

  'And Danielle, deep in conversation with Nick, has nothing to do with it?'

  'No,' she said firmly, willing it to be true as she attempted to ignore a tiny gremlin who suddenly materialised inside her head and whispered 'liar!' in a deliberate taunt.

  A waiter paused discreetly, and Vince took two glasses from the tray, one of which he offered Emma.

  'Hmm, gorgeous,' he murmured softly. 'Your perfume alone could drive a man wild.'

  It was impossible not to laugh at such blatant flattery, and a winsome smile curved Emma's generous mouth. 'Careful,' she cautioned. 'I might take you seriously.'

  'I should be so fortunate.'

  'What of Danielle?' she reminded him, wrinkling her nose at him in silent admonition, and caught his faint grimace.

  'A pretty playmate, nothing more, who shamelessly uses me in an effort to get close to my inestimable cousin.' His smile broadened as he glimpsed her expression. 'I have no illusions about Danielle,' he continued wryly, 'whereas you, Emma, are a sweet young woman. Nick thinks so, too, and Annalisa already adores you.'

  'Your cousin has been very helpful,' she answered carefully. 'I've appreciated the time he has spared me.'

  'And you are just "good friends", hmm?' Vince mocked.

  Anyone further removed from friend was difficult to imagine, yet she was loath to pursue the subject. 'I don't think I have to answer that.'

  'Ah, astute,' he concluded sardonically, sparing her a whimsical smile. 'Astute enough, I wonder, to realise that Nick has a reputation for getting what he wants?

  'And—' he paused with soft deliberation, then added, 'my guess favours you, sweet Emma.'

  Her heart gave a sudden lurch, then settled back to its normal pattern as she endeavoured a semblance of tranquillity in the face of Vince's revelation.

  If the studied ease with which Nick has been regarding us for the past five minutes is any indication, you don't stand a chance in hell of escaping him.'

  She met his gaze unflinchingly. 'He doesn't own me.'

  'Not yet,' he corrected softly.

  'Not ever!'

  'Such vehemence,' he chided musingly. 'I am almost inclined to think you protest too much.'

  'You're wrong,' Emma assured quickly, tempering her words with a smile.

  Vince reminded her so much of Marc, and she experienced a strange, inexplicable pang of sadness, intermingled with the knowledge that soon she would have to return to her memories, face again her parents, Marc's, and various friends. Say goodbye to the overpowering Nick Castelli, whose motives she failed to understand.

  'Talk of the devil,' Vince murmured, and Emma turned slowly to see Nick weaving his way steadily towards them.

  It was impossible to discern anything from his expression, and she offered him a slight smile as he reached her side.

  'Would you prefer mineral water?' Nick enquired, glancing at her barely touched wine.

  'No, thank you,' she responded evenly, hating the faint tremor that ran through her body in reaction to his close proximity. His slight smile drew attention to his mouth, and remembering the way it felt to have him kiss her brought a rush of colour to her cheeks.

  'Something to eat?'

  She bore his probing scrutiny equably, and gave a negative shake of her head. 'Maybe later.'

  The depths of his eyes assumed a degree of lazy tolerance. 'You wouldn't by any chance have decided to be perverse and deliberately oppose me?'

  'What makes you think that?'

  His gaze narrowed and assumed an inscrutability, a watchfulness that was somehow worse than any partronising amusement.

  'Perhaps you resented me talking to Danielle and decided to reciprocate by flirting with Vince?'

  Her chin lifted fractionally at the unfairness of such a supposition, and she directed him a cool glare. 'I did not flirt! Besides, Vince is uncomplicated, and nice.'

  'While I am not.'

  What could she say? Anything would be equally damning, so she chose silence for what seemed for ever before saying slowly, 'I'm very grateful to you for making my stay in Rome so interesting.'

  'Very politely spoken,' he declared cynically.

  'You doubt my sincerity?'

  'No.'

  'Papa, have you told Emma yet?'

  The sound of Annalisa's voice brought some semblance of normality to their conversation, and Emma moved slightly to allow Annalisa to join them.

  'I am so looking forward to driving to Naples next week,' the young girl enthused, clearly excited at the prospect. 'Emma will adore it, won't she, Papa?' She turned towards Emma and caught hold of her hand. They say "see Naples and die". The scenery is magnificent, and as for Capri—I love it there.'

  Somehow Emma managed to school her features and offer a pleasant comment, wondering if there was any chance she could invent some excuse and not go.

  'I haven't had the opportunity to discuss it with Emma yet, piccina. She may have other plans.'

  The disappointment on his daughter's face was plainly evident as she looked at Emma. 'But you must come with us! It won't be the same if you don't.'

  Diplomacy was the only way to deal with the situation, and Emma gently squeezed Annalisa's hand. 'Can I think about it and let your father know?'

  'Yes, of course.'

  Emma felt her heart turn over at the girl's quiet resignation, and she almost relented and said she would accept. Dammit, why did she feel so—wretched? The choice to refuse should be hers without the need for guilt at doing so.

  'Will you excuse me for a few minutes?' She put her glass down on a nearby table and made her way from the salone with the intention of freshening her make-up.

  The powder room placed at the guests' disposal was adjacent the foyer on the ground floor, and Emma was about to enter it when the door was opened from the inside and she came face to face with Danielle, who, instead of emerging, elected to retrace her steps.

  'Perhaps I could re-t
ouch my lipstick,' Danielle murmured with a false smile, and Emma mentally prepared herself for a verbal onslaught without the slightest doubt to whom it would pertain.

  'Nice strategy, cara. Inveigling an invitation to the villa at the time when Nick is here with his daughter.' Her eyes were glittery and strangely avid, and Emma endeavoured to remain calm beneath the model's intent stare.

  'I had no idea,' she assured Danielle evenly, crossing to the marble basin. Via mirrored reflection she glimpsed Danielle's expression and saw one eyebrow arch delicately in disbelief.

  'Next you will tell me Rosa and Enzo neglected to inform you of Nick's existence.'

  Emma lifted a hand to her hair and smoothed back a few stray curls, then she pretended to scrutinise her make-up. They probably did mention him at some time during their visits to Sydney, but I can't honestly remember.'

  'And this holiday in Rome now is merely coincidence, and not specifically contrived to ensnare Nick—' A tinkling laugh full of bitterness emerged from her lips. '—who has to be much bigger fish than your sadly departed husband, surely?' Her eyes assumed a malevolent gleam as she thrust in for the verbal kill. 'So much better, when considering re-marriage, to keep it in the family? Especially when the lineage is affiliated to the rich and powerful Martinero dynasty.'

  'I think this has gone far enough, don't you?' Emma managed quietly, sure that she couldn't cope with any further disparaging invective. It had been bad enough listening to Vince's light, bantering innuendo without compounding it further.

  'Nick Castelli is going to be mine,' Danielle declared viciously. Do you understand?'

  Emma looked at the model and tried to be objective. 'I understand, Danielle,' she said evenly. 'But do you? If you have known Nick for so long, why isn't he already yours?' She let her eyes sweep slowly over Danielle's superb figure. 'You are very beautiful, except,' she paused fractionally, then continued, 'in your heart, where it really matters. A fact which Nick has obviously recognised, wouldn't you say?'

  For a moment Emma thought Danielle meant to launch a physical attack, and she braced herself in an attempt to ward off the sudden push that spun her back against the marble pedestal.

  'Bitch!'

  Danielle turned and swept from the room, and Emma was left to shakily gather herself sufficiently together in order to rejoin the other guests and attempt to pretend none of this had happened.

  Something, she perceived several long minutes later, it would take considerable effort and no mean feat of acting ability to achieve.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  'May I join you?'

  Emma glanced up and met Vince's gleaming gaze as he leaned forward and bestowed a light kiss to Rosa's cheek.

  'Lovely party, Zia Rosa,' he said gently.

  'Thank you, Vince,' Rosa accepted warmly. 'Emma and I were discussing a visit to the galleries one day next week.'

  'What a pity I must be in Milan until Sunday,' he declared with sincere regret. 'Otherwise it would give me pleasure to accompany you.'

  The slight nagging ache at the back of her eyes had begun within ten minutes of the scene with Danielle, and had intensified over the past hour until it bore all the symptoms of a migraine. A regrettable legacy from last year's car accident, although admittedly they recurred with less frequency. A deep, throbbing sensation manifested itself at one temple and threatened to overwhelm her with pain, and she cursed beneath her breath. If she didn't swallow some tablets soon, she'd have little option but to take to her bed. Prescribed medication combined with half an hour's rest might alleviate the worst of it, and with luck her absence wouldn't even be noticed, she decided as she quietly informed Rosa of her intention.

  'Oh, Emma, I am so sorry.' Rosa sympathised at once, her kindly features creased with concern. 'You do look very pale. Are you sure you will be all right?'

  'Quite sure,' she declared, attempting a smile, except it didn't quite come off and merely ended up as a wobbly substitute. 'Don't worry, I'll be fine.' Excusing herself, she turned and threaded her way through the milling guests to the staircase, and once in her bedroom she stripped off her dress, slipped out of her shoes and donned a silk wrap. Then she extracted two tablets and washed them down with water before laying down on the bed.

  The darkened room was bliss after the electric brightness of the salone, and Emma closed her eyes and willed the pain to subside.

  What had triggered it off this time? she brooded wearily. Perhaps it was a culmination of several factors, not the least of which was Nick Castelli.

  Dammit, she'd felt so safe with Marc, so sure, even in grief, of what her future would entail. She had a fascinating, fulfilling career, and there were numerous friends available whenever she needed a social! partner. She didn't need an involvement with any man, much less one who resided on the opposite side of the world.

  A slight sound alerted her attention and she slowly let her eyelids drift open to focus on a slight figure standing hesitantly beside the bed.

  'Emma? Zia Rosa said I could come and see if you are feeling any better.'

  'A little,' Emma responded cautiously.

  'Is it very bad?' Annalisa whispered with concerned awe. 'I have never had a headache before.'

  She couldn't help the faint smile that parted her lips. 'Pray that you never do. At least, nothing as dramatic as a migraine.'

  'Can I get Maria to bring you some tea, or a cool drink?'

  'A cup of tea would be lovely, piccina,' she declared, unconsciously using Nick's pet name for the young girl.

  'It might help.' Annalisa ventured, and Emma lifted a hand in silent agreement.

  'Thank you.'

  Annalisa crept from the room, and Emma closed her eyes against the misting pain. Already she felt heavy and vaguely disorientated as the tablets began to take effect. If only she could sleep, even briefly. An hour would be sufficient, then she'd wake feeling considerably refreshed.

  It was some time later that she became aware someone had entered the room, and she sensed rather than heard their passage towards the bed. Then there was a faint click as the bedside lamp sprang on, and she' gave a faint murmur of distress at the sudden intrusion of light.

  'Please—that hurts my eyes,' she protested, and gave a slight sigh of relief when it was switched off and the light in the adjoining bathroom provided a subdued and slightly removed illumination.

  Just put the cup on the pedestal. I'll drink it soon.'

  'Unless you have a penchant for lukewarm tea, I would advise drinking it now,' a deep, all too familiar voice drawled.

  Emma's eyes opened to centre on the man standing indolently near the bed.

  'What are you doing here?' It wasn't really a query, merely a shocked acknowledgment of his presence in her bedroom.

  'You're quite safe,' Nick murmured with deceptive softness, and she felt the prick of futile tears at his implication.

  I don't feel safe, she longed to scream at him.

  'Rosa showed concern over your welfare,' he continued quietly. 'And Annalisa showed considerable alarm. I deemed it wise to check for myself.'

  'I've already taken two tablets,' she managed wearily. 'So your solicitude, although—gratifying, is unnecessary,' A spasm of pain seemed to focus itself behind one eye, and she winced.

  'You really do have a headache,' Nick declared with a brooding frown, and she felt every muscle in her body tense with reaction as he folded his length down on to the edge of the bed.

  'What did you imagine?' she? flung at him tiredly. 'That I invented the excuse solely to escape your diabolical presence?'

  'The thought did occur.' Lifting a hand, he touched his fingers to her temple. 'There?'

  Emma closed her eyes against the effect he was having on her, and she willed her pulse to steady from its sudden leaping beat as he began a gentle, soothing massage, using the tips of his fingers to probe out the pain and attempt to alleviate it.

  There was an element of danger in permitting him to continue, for the seducing quality of his to
uch played havoc with her senses, making her all too aware of just how easy it would be to succumb. All she had to do was lift her arms and let her hands encircle his neck, pull his head down to hers and allow herself to be swept away on a tide of emotion.

  'Is that any better?'

  Emma slowly opened her eyes and almost died at the intense awareness evident in his dark gaze. 'Yes. Thanks,' she added unsteadily, more as an afterthought than in gratitude. Her lashes swept down, veiling the bruised darkness in her eyes.

  'Do you get these attacks often?'

  His voice seemed to invade her body, and she shivered at its. traitorous compliance.

  'They have become less frequent,' she answered quietly. 'The doctor assures they will gradually fade altogether after the first year.'

  'You suffered concussion at the time of the accident?'

  'Yes.'

  'Sit up and drink your tea,' Nick instructed gently, sliding an arm beneath her shoulders as he lifted her to lean back against the pillow.

  Obediently she sipped from the cup, then when it was empty he replaced it down on to the pedestal.

  'You resemble a lost little waif,' Nick remarked with a, twisted smile. 'All eyes, pale skin, and infinitely fragile.'

  'And you, Nick? What role do you play? That of my protector?'

  Her eyes widened measurably when he leaned forward and lightly caressed her lips with his own. It was an evocative gesture, and one which left her aching for more.

  'It would take an utter brute to be anything else.' A smile curved his wide mouth, and a gleam of amusement lit his eyes.

  'I think you'd better go.' Was that her voice? She felt like a disembodied spectator, watching a scene unfold in which she had no living part.

  'As soon as you have settled down for the night.' He moved the pillow back into its original position and straightened the sheet 'Rosa gave me strict instructions that you were to stay where you are.'

  She opened her mouth to protest, only to have him press his fingers fleetingly against her lips.

  'No arguments. Where do you keep your nightgown?'

  A strangled gasp emerged in outraged indignation. 'I'll change just as soon as you leave.'