A Husband's Vendetta

by Sara Wood

‘Upset her?’ she exploded. ‘The situation was difficult enough for her, without you putting your oar in! How could you? You—’ Emotion almost overtook her. All those years of misery and heartache… ‘You ruined the relationship between Gemma and me! That’s unforgivable, Donatello!’

  ‘It had to be done; there was no other way!’ he snapped. ‘Luc was being torn apart. He had to cut you from his life. He would have done, but you had to come here! You discovered that Gemma was being bullied and Luc felt obliged to let you stay—’

  ‘But you couldn’t allow that, could you?’ she said bitterly. ‘You had to make my own child so petrified of me that Luc would throw me out—’

  ‘Whereas,’ came Luc’s harsh, emotion-lashed growl from the door, ‘Luc will be throwing you out, Donatello! How could you do this to me? You’ve almost ruined my life, don’t you realise that?’

  Ellen saw the PA’s face collapse in horror when he turned and saw the unholy fury on Luc’s face. In the midst of her relief, she felt pity for the man. He’d sought to blacken her name out of misguided loyalty to Luc and for no other reason, firmly believing that Luc was better off without her.

  ‘Luc! I can explain! She’s not good for you—!’ Donatello gasped.

  ‘Out!’ Luc’s eyes blazed with a frightening cold rage. ‘Our friendship and everything we’ve been to one another prevents me from beating you to within an inch of your life. But don’t presume any further. I want you off my land—and off the island within the hour. Oh, God, ’Tello!’ he cried passionately. ‘You of all people knew how I felt!’

  ‘I couldn’t bear to see you hurt,’ the man mumbled.

  ‘You can’t turn him away, not after all the years you’ve been together,’ Ellen said huskily.

  ‘You’d plead for him?’ Luc asked in amazement. ‘You could forgive this man who destroyed your hopes of being a mother to Gemma? I’m damned if I could. You’re strong, Ellen. And more compassionate than I am!’

  She went over and put her hand on his arm. It was shaking with tension and she could feel the energy and rage surging within. ‘He thought he was doing the right thing. He was wrong, and he must put things right with Gemma, but don’t reject him, Luc. He’s been a loyal friend to you. He loves Gemma—’

  ‘And hates you.’

  ‘Just leave the door open,’ she urged. ‘Please. For your own sake as well as his.’

  Face taut with fury, he turned to Donatello. ‘I suggest,’ he said coldly, ‘that you take yourself off for an extended holiday somewhere. I might have cooled down when you return. I might not. I guarantee nothing. You’ve betrayed my belief in you. I detest it when I discover I can’t trust people close to me.’

  Ellen watched Donatello’s slumped figure slip from the room. She knew how he felt at that moment, and she felt sad that the wonderful and lasting friendship between the two men would never be the same again.

  ‘I can hardly believe it,’ Luc muttered. He straightened his shoulders. ‘First I must put this right with Gemma,’ he said quietly, his face showing deep lines of strain. ‘And then we talk.’ He caught her hand. ‘I can only say how sorry I am for doubting you. I don’t know how you’ll ever forgive me.’

  ‘The evidence was pretty damning. I thought… I thought that I’d never see either of you again,’ she said with a sniff.

  Luc’s hand caressed her head. ‘I could murder that man for what he’s done!’ he growled.

  ‘We can settle Gemma’s mind. That’s the most important thing.’

  ‘I’ll be a while with her. This needs tackling carefully. Why don’t you have a long, relaxing bath?’ he suggested.

  Tenderly he kissed her. He seemed about to say something, but he checked himself and, with a choked mutter which she didn’t catch, hurried off.

  She must have slept in the bath, because the next thing she knew was the sound of knocking on the bedroom door.

  ‘Just a minute!’ she called in confusion, stepping from the freezing water. She wrapped a big fluffy towel around her and hurried to open the door. ‘Gemma!’ she cried in gentle delight. ‘Oh, Gemma!’

  The little girl hesitated, and then came forward and embraced Ellen.

  ‘She wanted to say goodnight,’ Luc said huskily.

  Ellen felt her heart do somersaults of pure joy. ‘Goodnight, my dearest darling,’ she whispered. And, smiling when her daughter tugged shyly at her hand, she obediently went with her and listened while Luc read the bedtime story.

  ‘All right, now?’ Luc asked Gemma, caressing her forehead.

  ‘I love you, Papà,’ she cried, flinging her arms around his neck.

  ‘I love you, darling,’ he replied.

  Gemma anxiously met Ellen’s adoring eyes. ‘I love you, Mamma,’ she said, as if begging forgiveness.

  Ellen leaned forwards for her hug. She held the sweetly smelling child and felt the tears start in her eyes. Gemma was hers again. And nothing would ever separate them.

  ‘I love you, my dearest Gemma,’ she whispered brokenly, overcome with emotion.

  She and Luc left the room. She couldn’t see. The tears were flowing down her cheeks unchecked, all the tensions of the years welling up.

  Luc’s arm came around her. ‘You poor darling,’ he said softly. ‘You’d better dress. You’re cold.’ He rubbed her body as they made their way to her bedroom.

  ‘W-w-what ab-bout you?’ she sniffed, wiping her eyes with a corner of the towel. ‘You must feel hurt and betrayed—’

  ‘I do.’ He sat down on the bed and drew her beside him.

  She saw that he looked absolutely shattered. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said feelingly.

  ‘Donatello and I had one hell of a bond between us. It’s finished.’

  He put his hands to his face in despair. She brought his head to rest on her shoulder and stroked his hair in silence. And then she touched her lips to his scalp, aching for him, wishing she could ease his pain.

  Suddenly, quite naturally, they were kissing: gentle, tender kisses which almost broke her heart with their hesitancy.

  Luc moved back and took her hand. His finger traced the half moon of her thumb and the lines around its knuckle, and then he turned her hand over and kissed her palm. Without releasing her hand, he slid from the bed and knelt in front of her, his dark, molten eyes mesmerising her with their intensity.

  ‘So much has happened between us,’ he said thickly. ‘But the past is finished. We’ve hurt one another. But I love you, Ellen. I’ve always loved you with more passion than is good for me. Donatello saw that. You even saw us arguing about it, outside the villa gate. That was when I told him I was going to make you fall in love with me all over again.’

  Ellen gasped. He hung his head and Ellen, hardly daring to believe what he’d said, saw that his lashes were wet. ‘What did he say, Luc?’ she asked in astonishment.

  ‘He was angry and said that I was a fool to be swayed by my loins,’ Luc went on distractedly. ‘He was convinced you were a worthless slut. I imagine that’s why he stepped up his campaign. He couldn’t bear you to take care of Gemma. Right from the moment we first met, when we were teenagers, he kept filling my head with things about you…and I listened. After a while I began to believe—’

  ‘Perhaps he was jealous. Your friendship was everything to him,’ she said gently. ‘He worshipped you.’

  Luc frowned. ‘I know I don’t deserve you, that—’

  She placed a finger on his lips. ‘You had every reason to mistrust me and to believe I was shallow and selfish. No, listen. Let me tell you.’

  Tenderly she kissed his upturned face. And she told him of her illness and how terrified she’d been for Gemma’s safety.

  He listened in growing horror. His Ellen had needed him and he had been blind to the nightmare she was living day by day. She’d made the ultimate sacrifice and surrendered her child to his safekeeping.

  What had he done? Yelled at her, reviled her, hated her…

  If only she’d told him—yet she hadn’t
, couldn’t, which meant he had been so impossible to talk to that she’d abandoned everything she’d loved.

  No wonder she had despised him. He was an insensitive, mindless brute…

  She was telling him she blamed herself for not saying how she felt, that she’d been scared and lonely, and feared she was losing her mind. The doctors hadn’t known the extent of her illness, she was saying. Why should he?

  And her hair. Dear God, she was telling him that her lovely hair had fallen out in handfuls! Unable to bear it any longer, he pulled away from her and staggered to his feet, his fists clenched as guilt and anger raged through his body.

  She’d never consider living as his wife now. They’d have to live apart—and he’d suffer agonies every time he saw her…

  ‘You must let me do something,’ he said hoarsely, his brain thick and turgid so that he hardly knew what he was saying. She’d need financial help. Yes. ‘Money…’

  ‘I don’t need your money, Luc.’

  He ran his hand through his hair. ‘What, then?’ he asked, close to despair.

  ‘Being your wife would do.’

  He began to pace up and down furiously. ‘Yes. That’s it. Whatever you want. You can live here, in the main part of the house, and I’ll move to the wing— Oh, God, Ellen, how can you ever forgive me?’

  Ellen giggled. For an intelligent man, he could be really stupid sometimes!

  ‘I don’t have any choice,’ she said patiently, breaking into his demented rambling. ‘I love you. And I’m not tramping halfway around the house every night to make love to you.’

  He stopped in mid-stride. ‘What?’

  She let the towel slip a little. ‘Pay attention,’ she said severely. ‘I want some recompense for your inexcusable lack of common sense and your stubborn vendetta.’

  His eyes filled with desire. She saw his mouth grow hungry. And then he snapped himself back into what he imagined she wanted: an obedient penitent.

  ‘Yes, Ellen. Recompense. What can I do?’

  How long before the penny dropped? She lay back on the bed, making sure that the towel rucked up around her thighs when she wriggled into place. ‘Love me, you dolt!’ she murmured.

  There was a long silence. Ellen played with the edge of the towel where it nestled over her breasts. She didn’t think either of them were breathing.

  ‘As in…make love to me, or…’ He cleared his husky throat. ‘Or as in love me?’

  Her lashes seemed suddenly heavy when she looked up at him. And her voice sounded slurred when she said, ‘I demand both as my right.’

  Luc shuddered. She stretched out her hand and he came to her.

  His mouth closed over hers.

  ‘Lovely,’ she mumbled.

  ‘There’s more,’ he said throatily, pulling the towel away.

  ‘Oh, good!’ she murmured with a wicked grin.

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-1133-2

  A HUSBAND’S VENDETTA

  First North American Publication 2000.

  Copyright © 1999 by Sara Wood.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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