Passion's Mistress

Home > Romance > Passion's Mistress > Page 4
Passion's Mistress Page 4

by Helen Bianchin


  Angry, futile tears diminished her vision, and she blinked furiously to dispel them. ‘Only because there was no other option!’

  Without a word she turned and walked to the door, uncaring whether he attempted to stop her or not.

  He didn’t move, and she walked down the carpeted hallway to Reception, her head held high, pride forcing a faint smile as she inclined a slight nod to the girl manning the switchboard before sweeping out to the foyer.

  A lift arrived within seconds of being summoned, and it wasn’t until she reached ground level that reaction began to set in.

  CHAPTER THREE

  IT TOOK AN hour for Carly to reach Manly, and she uttered a silent prayer of thanks to whoever watched over her as she traversed the car-choked arterial roads leading north from the city. Concentration was essential, and her own was in such a state of serious disarray that it was a minor miracle her sedan survived the drive intact.

  Sarah answered the door at once, and Carly cast her a grateful glance as she entered her friend’s apartment.

  ‘Thanks for collecting Ann-Marie. I got held up, and the traffic slowed to a complete halt in places.’

  ‘Sarah read me a story, and we watched television. I’ve already had my bath,’ Ann-Marie informed her as she ran into her mother’s outstretched arms.

  Carly hugged the small body close, and felt the onset of emotion-packed tears. For more than six years she’d fought tooth and nail to support them both without any outside financial assistance. Soon that would change, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready for the upheaval Stefano Alessi would cause in their lives.

  ‘Would you like some coffee?’ Sarah queried. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

  Carly shot her friend a distracted smile. ‘Why not come over and share our meal?’ It was the least she could do, and besides, it would be lovely to have company. Then she would have less time alone in which to think.

  Sarah looked suitably regretful. ‘I’d love to, but I’m going out tonight.’

  Carly glimpsed the indecision apparent, the pensive brooding evident in Sarah’s lovely blue eyes.

  ‘I take it this isn’t the usual casual meal shared with a female friend?’ she queried slowly. ‘Who’s the lucky man?’

  ‘A doctor who performed emergency surgery several months ago while I was on night duty. He’s recently moved south from Cairns. We ran into each other a few days later, in the supermarket of all places, and we chatted. Then I saw him again at the hospital.’ She paused, and effected a faint shrugging gesture. ‘He’s…’ She paused, searching for the right words. ‘Easy to talk to, I guess. Last week he asked me out to dinner.’ Her eyes clouded, then deepened to cerulean blue. ‘I said yes at the time, but now I’m not so sure.’

  Aware that Sarah’s disastrous first marriage and subsequent messy divorce had left her with a strong dislike and distrust of men, almost to the point where she refused to have anything to do with them other than in a professional capacity, Carly could only wonder at the man who had managed to break through her friend’s defences.

  ‘I’m delighted for you,’ she declared with genuine sincerity.

  ‘I’m terrified for me,’ Sarah acknowledged wryly as she filled both mugs with boiling water.

  The aroma of instant coffee was no substitute for the real thing, but the hot, sweet brew had a necessary reviving effect and Carly sipped the contents of her mug with appreciative satisfaction.

  ‘What time is he picking you up?’

  ‘Seven.’ An entire gamut of emotions chased fleetingly across Sarah’s attractive features. ‘I’m going to ring him and cancel.’

  If he was at all intuitive, he would have deliberately left his answering machine off with just this possibility in mind, Carly reflected as Sarah crossed to the telephone and punched out the requisite digits, only to listen and replace the receiver.

  ‘Damn. Now what am I going to do?’

  Carly viewed her with twinkling solemnity. ‘Go out with him.’

  ‘I can’t. I’m nuts,’ Sarah wailed. ‘Nuts.’ Her expression assumed a sudden fierceness. ‘If the situation were reversed, would you go out with another man?’

  Her heart lurched, then settled into an accelerated beat in the knowledge that she would soon be inextricably involved with someone she’d sworn never to have anything to do with again, coerced by a set of circumstances that denied any freedom of choice. Yet her academic mind demanded independent legal verification of Stefano’s threat of custody, even as logic reasoned that in a court of law the odds would be heavily stacked against Stefano being denied access to his daughter. Tomorrow was Saturday, but there was a friend she could contact outside office hours who would relay the vital information she needed.

  ‘Carly?’

  She proffered a faint smile in silent apology and shook her head. ‘Not all men are made from the same mould as our respective first husbands,’ she managed, evading Sarah’s close scrutiny as she lifted the mug to her lips and sipped from it.

  ‘When he arrives, I’ll tell him I’ve changed my mind,’ Sarah declared, and, placing a light hand on Carly’s arm, she queried softly, ‘Are you OK?’

  There was no time for confidences, and Carly wasn’t sure she was ready to share Stefano’s ultimatum with anyone. ‘I’m fine,’ she assured quietly as she deliberately forced a slight smile. ‘Let me give Ann-Marie dinner, then I’ll come and help with your hair.’

  Sarah shot her a dark musing glance. ‘He’s seen me in denim shorts, a T-shirt, trainers, and no make-up.’ Her expression became faintly speculative as she took in the paleness of Carly’s features, the edge of tension apparent. ‘Give me twenty minutes to shower and change.’

  Once in her own apartment, it took only a few minutes to heat the casserole she’d prepared the previous evening, and although Ann-Marie ate well Carly mechanically forked small portions from her plate with little real appetite.

  Afterwards Ann-Marie proved an interested spectator as Carly used hot rollers to good effect on Sarah’s hair.

  ‘Why do I feel as nervous as a teenager about to go on a first date?’ Sarah queried with wry disbelief. ‘No, don’t answer that.’

  ‘All done,’ Carly announced minutes later as she stepped back a pace to view the style she’d effected with critical favour. ‘You look really great,’ she assured her gently, her eyes softening with genuine feeling for her friend’s state of panic. ‘Are you going to tell me his name?’ she prompted with a faintly teasing smile.

  ‘James Hensley,’ Sarah revealed. ‘Surgeon, late thirties, widower, one son. He’s slightly aloof and distinguished, yet warm and easy to talk to, if that makes sense.’ Indecision, doubt and anxiety clouded her attractive features. A deprecatory laugh merged with an audible groan of despair. ‘Why am I doing this to myself? I don’t need the emotional aggravation!’

  The intercom buzzed, and Carly reached out and caught hold of Ann-Marie’s hand. ‘Have a really fantastic time,’ she bade Sarah gently. ‘We’ll let ourselves out.’

  It was after eight before Ann-Marie fell asleep, and Carly gently closed the storybook, then gazed at her daughter’s classic features in repose. She looked so small, so fragile. Far too young to have to undergo extensive surgery. Her beautiful hair—

  A lump rose in Carly’s throat, a painful constriction she had difficulty in swallowing. It wasn’t fair. Life wasn’t fair. Dammit, she wouldn’t cry. Tears were for the weak, and she had to be strong. For both of them. At least her daughter would have the best medical attention money could buy, she consoled herself fiercely.

  Carly remained seated in the chair beside Ann-Marie’s bed for a long time before she stirred herself sufficiently to leave the room, and after carefully closing the door she crossed the lounge to the phone.

  Twenty minutes later she slowly replaced the receiver. With a sinking heart she attempted to come to terms with the fact that any claim for custody by Stefano could succeed. Sole custody was not a consideration unless he could prove i
ndisputably that Carly was an unfit mother. However, he could insist on joint custody—alternate weekends, half of each school holiday—and be granted any reasonable request for access.

  On that premise, Carly was sufficiently intelligent to be aware of what would happen if she contested his claim in a court of law, or what emphasis his lawyer would place on her decision to leave Stefano in ignorance of Ann-Marie’s existence.

  She closed her eyes, almost able to hear the damning words uttered with appropriate dramatic inflexion. The moral issue would be played out with stunning effect. With the added weight of Stefano’s wealth, she wouldn’t stand a chance of him being refused custody.

  Without conscious thought she sank into a nearby chair in despair. Dear God, she agonised shakily. How could she do that to her daughter? Ann-Marie would be pulled and pushed between two people who no longer had anything in common, torn by divided loyalties, and unsure whether either parent’s affection was motivated by genuine love or a desire to hurt the other.

  In years to come Ann-Marie would understand and comprehend the truth of her parents’ relationship. But what damage would be done between now and then? It didn’t bear thinking about.

  There was really no choice. None at all.

  Impossibly restless, she flung herself into completing a punishing few hours of housework, followed by a stint of ironing. At least it provided an outlet for her nervous tension, and she tumbled wearily into bed to toss and turn far into the early hours of the morning.

  ‘You look—terrible,’ Sarah declared with concern as Carly answered the door shortly after eleven. ‘Is Ann-Marie OK?’

  ‘She’s fine,’ Carly responded with a faint smile, then winced at the increasing pain in her head. ‘She’s dressing her doll in the bedroom and deciding what she should wear to Susy’s party this afternoon. Come on in, we’ll have some coffee.’

  ‘I’ll make the coffee, and get you something for that headache,’ Sarah insisted, suiting words to action with such admirable efficiency that Carly found herself seated at the dining-room table nursing a hot cup of delicious brew.

  ‘Now, tell me what’s wrong.’

  Carly effected a faint shrugging gesture. ‘I must be feeling my age,’ she qualified with a faint smile. ‘One late night through the week, and it takes me the next two to get over it.’

  ‘OK,’ Sarah accepted. ‘So you don’t want to talk. Now take these tablets.’

  ‘Yes, Sister.’

  ‘Don’t be sassy with me, young woman. It won’t work,’ Sarah added with mock-severity.

  ‘How was your date with James?’ Carly queried in an attempt to divert the conversation away from herself.

  ‘We had dinner, we talked, then he delivered me home.’ Sarah lifted her shoulders in a non-committal gesture. ‘It was all right, I guess.’

  ‘That’s it?’ Carly looked slightly incredulous. ‘All right wraps it up?’

  ‘OK, so he was the perfect gentleman.’ Sarah’s expression became pensive. ‘I was surprised, that’s all.’

  James was beginning to sound more astute by the minute.

  ‘He’s asked me out to dinner next Saturday evening,’ Sarah informed her quietly, and Carly applauded his perception in taking things slowly.

  ‘He sounds nice.’

  ‘I get the feeling he’s streets ahead of me,’ Sarah owned. ‘Almost as if he knows what I’m thinking and how I’ll react. It’s—uncanny.’

  Carly sipped her coffee and attempted to ignore her headache. It would take at least ten minutes before the pain began to ease, maybe another ten before it retreated to a dull heaviness that would only be alleviated by rest. After she dropped Ann-Marie at Susy’s house, she’d come back and rest for an hour.

  Sarah left a short while later, and Carly headed for a long leisurely shower, choosing to slip into tailored cotton trousers and a sleeveless top in eau-de-Nil silk. The pale colour looked cool and refreshing, and accentuated the deep auburn highlights of her hair and the clear honey of her skin.

  Lunch was a light meal, for Ann-Marie was too excited to eat much in view of all the prospective fare available at Susy’s party.

  ‘Ready, darling?’

  Ann-Marie’s small features creased into an expression of excited anticipation, and Carly felt a tug on her heartstrings.

  ‘Checklist time,’ she bade lightly with a smile. ‘Handkerchief? No last-minute need to visit the bathroom?’

  ‘Yes,’ Ann-Marie answered, retrieving a white linen square from the pocket of her dress. ‘And I just did. Can we go now?’

  ‘After you,’ Carly grinned, sweeping her arm in the direction of the front door.

  The drive was a relatively short one, for Susy lived in a neighbouring suburb, and in no time at all Carly brought the car to a halt behind a neat row of several parked cars.

  ‘We’re cutting the cake at three,’ Susy’s mother bade with an expressive smile. ‘And I’m planning a reviving afternoon tea for the mothers at three-thirty while Susy opens her presents. I’d love you to be here if you can.’

  Carly accepted the invitation, wished Susy ‘Happy Birthday’, then bent down to kiss Ann-Marie goodbye.

  On returning home she garaged the car in its allotted space, sparing its slightly dusty paintwork a faint grimace as she closed and locked the door. Perhaps she could leave early and detour via a carwash.

  The apartment seemed strangely empty, and she drifted into the kitchen to retrieve a cool drink from the refrigerator.

  The buzz of the doorbell sounded loud in the silence of the apartment, and Carly frowned in momentary perplexity as she crossed the lounge. Sarah?

  Instead, a tall, broad-shouldered, disturbingly familiar male frame filled the doorway.

  The few seconds between recognition and comprehension seemed uncommonly long as she registered his dominating presence.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Whatever happened to hello?’ Stefano drawled, and his dry mocking tones sent an icy shiver down the length of her spine.

  Her eyes sparked with visible anger, dark depths of sheer mahogany, and it irked her unbearably that she’d discarded her heeled sandals on entering the apartment, for it put her at a distinct disadvantage.

  Impossibly tall, he towered head and shoulders above her, his impeccably tailored suit seeming incredibly formal on a day that was usually given to informality and relaxation.

  Three nights ago his presence had shocked and dismayed her. Yesterday, she’d been momentarily numbed, grateful for the impartiality of his office. Now, there was no visible shield, no barrier, and she felt inordinately wary.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’

  He projected a dramatic mesh of elemental ruthlessness and primitive power, an intrinsic physical magnetism that teased her senses and rendered them intensely vulnerable.

  Her chin lifted fractionally, her eyes locking with his, and she caught the lurking cynicism evident, almost as if he guessed the path her thoughts had taken and was silently amused by their passage.

  ‘What if I refuse?’ Brave words, given his sheer strength and indomitable will.

  ‘Would you prefer an amicable discussion, or have me channel everything through my lawyers?’

  His voice was deadly quiet, and she felt the cold clutch of fear.

  ‘This isn’t a convenient time.’ She was mad, insane to thwart him continually, yet she was damned if she’d meekly stand aside and allow him entry into the privacy of her apartment.

  His expression hardened, the assemblage of muscle and bone tautening into a chilling mask depicting controlled anger. ‘You’ve just returned from delivering our daughter to a birthday party. How long before you need to collect her? An hour? Two?’

  Sheer rage rushed to the surface, destroying any semblance of restraint. ‘You’ve had me watched—followed?’ Words momentarily failed her. ‘You bastard,’ she flung at last, sorely tempted to slam the door in his face, yet even as the thought occurred to her she negated the a
ction as not only foolish but extremely dangerous.

  For one infinitesimal second his eyes leapt with icy anger, then sharpened and became infinitely compelling as he raked her slender frame.

  A shivery sensation feathered its way down the length of her spine as she fought against the intrinsic pull of his innate sexuality, and of its own volition her body seemed to flare into life as if ignited by some hidden combustible flame.

  Seven years ago she’d gone willingly into his arms, his bed, and tasted every sensual delight in a sexual discovery that had set her on fire, enraptured by an ecstasy so acute that it hadn’t seemed possible such pleasure existed. A passionate lover, he’d teasingly dispensed with each and every one of her inhibitions, and taught her to become so in tune with her own sensual being that each time they made love it was a total conflagration of the senses.

  To deny him access to her apartment would gain absolutely nothing, and, drawing in a deep breath, she gathered her scattered emotions together as she aimed for contrived politeness.

  ‘Please,’ Carly indicated as she gestured towards two sofas and a chair in the small lounge. ‘Sit down.’

  Stefano chose to ignore the directive, and moved slowly across the room to examine a large frame containing a montage of small snapshots showing Ann-Marie in various stages of development from birth to as recently as a month ago.

  A palpable silence filled the room until it enveloped everything. A silence so incredibly damning that it was almost tangible.

  At long last he turned towards her, his eyes so remarkably dark that it was impossible to discern anything from his expression. ‘Why did you choose not to tell me you were pregnant?’ he began with deceptive softness.

  Her throat felt impossibly dry, and so constricted that she doubted if her larynx could cope with emitting so much as a sound. ‘If I had, you would have hauled me back to Perth,’ she said at last.

  ‘Indeed,’ Stefano agreed. ‘And I wouldn’t now brand you a thief for stealing from me the first six years of my daughter’s life.’

 

‹ Prev