by Sara Wood
Before he could react to her crushed and subdued appearance, he headed for the door for a long and ice-cold shower to be followed by a furious gallop across the fields on his favourite Arab stallion.
He scowled his way across the hall. Anna had got to him. And how. It was supposed to be the other way round. Maybe he’d do better to send her packing. For once in his life, he didn’t know what to do. He needed a troubleshooter, he thought grimly.
‘Vido! I want a moment of your time,’ called Camilla, hurrying up to him with a sheaf of papers.
‘Not now!’ he barked, his voice echoing across the vast space. Almost immediately he felt ashamed and shot out an arm to stop her from turning away. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised. ‘Bad temper. Forgive me.’
She gave him a smile of friendly understanding. ‘She really bugs you, doesn’t she?’ Her cool hand rested on his beating heart and she looked up at his face with sympathy. ‘Listen to that!’ she scolded. ‘And now you listen to some advice from someone who cares about you. Kiss her, yell at her, seduce her or put the fear of God into her, but don’t let her go until you’ve sorted things out between you,’ she advised. ‘Or you’ll forever be unsettled—and abominably rude and scratchy to your adoring staff!’ she scolded.
Tenderly he gazed down on her, his hands resting on her shoulders. She was right. As always.
‘You are a woman in a million. Some man’s going to be very lucky, one day.’
‘Yes,’ she said serenely. ‘Though that man isn’t you any more.’
He laughed in acknowledgement and tweaked her nose. ‘I adore you,’ he said, feeling more cheerful. And as she walked away smiling, he called teasingly, affectionately, after her, ‘Adore you, Camilla, woman in a million!’ and she gave a little wave of her hand in regal acknowledgement.
Frozen with shock in the shadows, Anna stared as Vido ran up the stairs. She had been right. Vido and Camilla were lovers. When she’d run to the kitchen door that led into the hall, prompted by Vido’s angry roar, she hadn’t expected to witness the closeness between him and Camilla. But although she hadn’t been able to hear everything they’d said—except for his last remark—the tender affection between them had been unmistakable.
She scowled. That made Vido’s sexual interest in her even more reprehensible. She might have known that his knee-jerk flirting had been his normal reaction to any reasonable-looking woman. He was a lecher and came on strong as naturally as breathing. She winced.
And knew it was time she faced up to the awful truth. Crazy though it seemed, she had wanted Vido to adore her. To fall madly in love with her and fill her hollow heart with passion. Yet she knew perfectly well that he was materialistic, selfish, and used people without compunction—especially women.
She groaned, hating the fact that such a louse could possess her hungry mind and body so easily. She was a hostage to her own emotions. If only, she thought sickly, she knew how to break free!
CHAPTER FIVE
SHE had twenty minutes to dash home—which fortunately was not far—whip her clothes off, shower and fling something on for the evening. Any old thing. Like her frumpy, sack-like dress…
Every brain cell she possessed leapt into rebellion, demanding insistently that she should conjure up something sensational from her wardrobe. Racing down the driveway, she rebuked herself for being so vain.
Sensational? If only! She’d never look as good as the elegant Italian women or the stunning Camilla. There was nothing on her coat hangers that could be considered even remotely eye-catching.
She grimaced. So what? But not the sack. She had her pride. It would have to be her long, raspberry-red skirt and a demure top, then.
Fifteen minutes later, she was perversely discarding the horribly ladylike sleeveless shirt she usually wore with the skirt and rummaging around for something more exotic. Or did she mean erotic?
And why, she asked herself, her fingers closing on something she dared not—should not—wear, was she so darn determined to knock ’em dead tonight? It wasn’t only because she wanted to make a good impression with her cooking. She wanted to be liked—and accepted—by Vido’s staff.
As for Vido himself… No. She really wouldn’t even go there. Before she could examine her motives too closely, she dragged on the tight-fitting top she’d unearthed and faced herself in the mirror.
‘Wow!’ she whispered.
OK, her face was flushed from rushing around like a headless chicken and her eyes were sparkling for the same reason, but the top certainly had that wow factor even if it had been a mad purchase at the local charity shop.
A fabulous tangerine, its sheer quality stopped it from screaming at the red skirt. The bootlace straps drew the eye down to the beautiful cut of the bodice, which sat snugly around her untrammelled breasts and pushed them into faintly discernible mounds below the scooped neckline.
With her sheet of black hair streaming down over her shoulders, the entire outfit made her feel fantastic. It slithered beautifully over her body in a highly sensual way, caressing her skin with the delicacy of a lover.
She frowned at the line of her briefs showing through the fine fabric of the skirt. It hadn’t bothered her before but she knew that the Italians in the party would mark her down for such a fashion faux pas.
Hesitating at the enormity of what she should do, she eventually bowed to the need to look as perfect as possible and removed the offending knickers.
She gulped. The sensation of silk against her naked buttocks made her feel quite abandoned. But the effect was worth it. She looked great, that was the main thing. And no one would know she wasn’t wearing any underwear.
‘I am confident. I can do this. I will succeed,’ she said to herself, actually believing that she could.
Slipping on a pair of high-heeled sandals without a thought for the work that she had ahead of her in the kitchen, she pushed on her engagement ring, grabbed her butcher’s apron, slammed the door behind her and headed for Stanford House again.
Once there, she hastily checked the lamb. It had been left to rest in the simmer oven with the little gem lettuces which she’d stuffed with pine nuts, sultanas, anchovies, capers and black olives. Perfect.
With her stomach swooping as if she was hurtling up and down a lift shaft in a fifty-storey building, she slid out the tray of nibbles she’d prepared earlier and put the canapés on two plates. Then she straightened her back, lifted her chin and strode towards the drawing room and the sound of voices as though she hadn’t a care in the world.
Afflicted by nerves however, she paused in the doorway, arrested by the sight that greeted her eyes. The room looked wonderful, like a scene in a film. It glowed warmly in the light of huge candles and low table lamps shed golden pools of light in strategic places. Adding to the effect, a crackling log fire burned in the great stone fire-place to take off the slight chill of the evening.
The room seemed to be filled with glamorous-looking people, many of them straight out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Confidently they lounged on the sofas or stood in unaffectedly elegant attitudes, chatting animatedly. There was a tangible atmosphere of ease, the kind of relaxation only achieved by people who were completely comfortable with one another.
Feeling a total outsider, she hesitated to go in, afflicted by a sudden dose of cold feet. Her wide, grey-eyed gaze had settled on Vido, who was listening in amusement to something Camilla was saying. And the spear of involuntary jealousy that struck her made Anna draw in her breath sharply just as Vido noticed her, the smile wiped from his face in an instant.
She jerked her head away and pretended that she was looking for Peter. Perhaps Vido was worried she might tell Camilla that he’d been flirting, she thought with contempt.
‘Anna!’ To her surprise, Camilla had broken away from Vido and the two men who’d been hanging on her every word, and was hurrying forward to meet her. ‘I’m Camilla. Vido’s PA. Hi. You look…fantastic,’ she said politely. ‘Love the top.’
&nb
sp; ‘Charity shop, one pound twenty. It’s probably thrilled to be somewhere decent for a change,’ Anna stumbled.
Camilla giggled and thawed noticeably. ‘Just say thank you! I don’t want a pedigree!’
‘Nerves,’ Anna confessed, immediately liking the woman, quite against all her expectations. ‘I’m terrified.’
‘Nobody’s going to bite you,’ Camilla said, amused.
Vido might, Anna thought. She sighed. ‘You all look so confident. It’s like being in front of the class again, reading out an essay with everyone’s eyes glued on me.’
Perhaps something in her tone had indicated that her schooldays had been a torment. Or maybe Vido had told Camilla that Anna’s nose had once given her the appearance of a witch in Macbeth. Whatever the reason, the woman’s expression softened and she put a friendly hand on Anna’s shoulder.
‘You’re not what I expected,’ Camilla said frankly.
‘Thanks, Vido.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘He gave the impression my character might be close to that of Godzilla and Lucrezia Borgia?’ she hazarded.
Camilla laughed a little uncomfortably. ‘Something like that.’
‘Well, it’s not. I told him a few home truths about himself when we were teenagers and he’s never forgiven me. He went off the rails when his mother lost her job and I found his behaviour impossible. But I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of, I swear. He’s got me all wrong,’ she insisted, desperate to be believed. She wouldn’t have a chance if Vido’s twisted views prevailed.
For several seconds, Camilla studied Anna’s open, anxious face. ‘Hmm. Maybe he has. None so blind, eh? He’s normally very perceptive. How odd. How interesting. I must say, Steve reckoned you’d fit in well. He liked you immediately. Well, take it from me, whatever trouble there was between you and Vido in the past, we’re all rooting for you, Godzilla or not—so long as you don’t do a Lucrezia and poison us!’ she said with a wonderfully warm smile. ‘Vido is desperate for a chef who can cook decent Italian food and we’re fed up with him telling us what wonderful dishes his mama used to make. And staying with the theme of dodgy characters from history, I do believe that he’d consider taking on Atilla the Hun if he could do a cracking spag bol.’
Things were looking up. With Camilla on her side, the job might be hers.
‘I could grow a beard and get a helmet,’ Anna offered with a smile.
Camilla giggled again. ‘And ruin that fab face?’ she said in mock horror. ‘Now. Hang on to your hat. Everyone!’ She clapped her hands, gaining instant attention. ‘Darlings, this is Anna Willoughby,’ she announced. ‘She’s cooking for us tonight and—if we’re very nice to her and beg her on bended knee—she’ll dish up a meal every night thereafter till she’s sick of the sight of us.’
Vido was glad that his staff had moved en bloc to greet her. It gave him precious moments to recover from Anna’s startling entrance.
Only Camilla’s quick thinking had diverted Joe and his lawyer from teasing him about the way his jaw had slowly dropped open at the sight of the siren who’d appeared in the doorway.
Anna looked utterly edible. His fertile mind fed on this. In his imagination he saw her naked on a table surrounded by delicacies she had cooked. And he was nibbling and licking her from head…
‘Canapé?’
Avoiding Anna’s frosty eyes, he looked at the plate in a daze and lifted something green from the plate she was offering. Thinking of her, he bit into it gently. His taste buds rioted and for a brief moment his eyes closed of their own volition.
He could hear her breathing step up a pace. It matched his. Short, fast, hard. And hot.
‘That’s as-asparagus tips on tapenade on toast,’ she informed him croakily, not bothering to describe the rest.
Some comment seemed necessary. ‘I didn’t expect this,’ he muttered to the plate, his palate clamouring for more. So was every male cell in his body. She cooked like an angel. Looked like a siren. Every man’s dream.
Camilla’s face came close to his and she whispered, ‘There’s a lot you didn’t expect, Vido, darling!’
He frowned, and when he looked up Anna had gone, to be engulfed in a horde of hungry men—though whether they were after her canapés or a leisurely glimpse of her incredible figure in that unnervingly slinky outfit, he didn’t like to think.
Except that he wanted to drag them all away with a roar of possession and carry her up to his lair. Slide his hands over the silk that covered her. Slip it up to expose the warm satin skin…
He scowled, furious that she should have total sway over his masculinity. And he felt irritated by his raging lust. Dammit, he was no better than an animal. All he had in his head was Anna. Crazy thoughts of making love to her. The scowl deepened.
‘I don’t think I ought to take her on,’ he told Camilla thickly, torn between his business sense and his need to see her hour by hour, every day, and to spend every night with her until he was rid of his madness.
‘You’d be stupid to reject her. These canapés are out of this world.’ Camilla munched happily. ‘I went in the kitchen a while ago and drooled at the delights she’s got waiting in the simmer oven. I think,’ she said with a wicked grin, ‘there are other delights waiting on simmer and they’re all for you.’
‘What do you mean?’ he growled irritably.
‘You know perfectly well. She’s dazzled by you.’
‘Rubbish. She’s engaged.’
His heart did a little bump. But she was not in love. So the coast was clear…
‘That relationship must be a mistake,’ Camilla dismissed, reinforcing the opinion he’d formed earlier. ‘Or sparks wouldn’t be flying between the two of you. Stop pussyfooting around and declare your interest before you explode.’
Resisting an eager impulse to do just what his PA had suggested, he shook his head.
‘She loathes me and I loathe her.’
‘In a very sexual way,’ Camilla murmured.
He drew in a sharp breath. Tried to be sensible. ‘Nothing much passes by you, does it? But I have to think of the staff—’
She laughed and patted his face affectionately. ‘We’ll decide what we think of her. She’s not at all the kind of person you described.’
‘You’re not usually fooled,’ he reproved.
‘No. And you’re usually a good judge of character.’
His scowl returned. ‘I’ve told you about her. What she did.’
‘Yes. It doesn’t tally with the person I see, though. I think you’ve got your wires crossed—or someone’s crossed them for you. Look, Vido. Observe. It’s what you’re good at.’
His eyes flicked over to where Anna was talking to Joe and back again. ‘She knows she’s on show,’ he grumped. ‘It’s in her interests to suck up to everyone.’
‘I don’t see it like that. What about the small, telling gestures? The body language? You’re more of an expert than I am, and even I can tell that she’s unsure of herself, unworldly and not snobbish at all. And look at that innocent face! There isn’t a spiteful bone in her body. I’d stake my reputation on the fact that she’s honest as the day is long and you’ve made a terrible mistake about her.’
‘Are you mad?’ He realised that his PA wasn’t always right in assessing people.
‘No, I’m just not burdened with your baggage,’ Camilla said coolly. ‘Personally, I’d say she’d fit in very well. Look at her.’
‘I’m trying not to.’
‘Slight trouble in the trousers department?’ she asked.
Vido had to laugh. ‘Understatement.’
But he looked to where Anna stood and knew that now the problem of Peter had been cleared up, he would do everything in his power to be her lover before the night was over. A feeling of exhilaration lifted his heart. To say nothing of everything south of his belt.
Anna’s eyes slanted to his. It felt as if she’d plugged him into the mains.
‘Sparks,’ Camilla murmured.
‘You’re brilliant,’
he murmured, his eyes alight with hungry fires. And he gave her a little hug.
Surreptitiously, Anna watched the exchange between the two of them.
‘They’re close, aren’t they?’ she said to Vido’s immaculately suited gardener, Joe, hoping she sounded casually interested.
‘Like that.’ Joe curled his middle finger around his forefinger. ‘She’s gorgeous, don’t you think?’ They both looked at Camilla admiringly then Joe sighed as if in pleasure. ‘They’ve been together for years.’
‘Oh.’ Again the awful jealousy.
‘We’re a pretty tight-knit community. I really hope you’ll join us.’
‘Thank you,’ she said with a grateful smile.
She hadn’t expected to be accepted with such enthusiasm. Her eyes sparkled with relief. Even if Vido was surly and difficult, she could stick out the six months with the friendship of these lovely people.
‘Glass of wine?’ Joe smiled at her in query.
‘Better not. I can’t start drinking now!’ she protested with a laugh. ‘I must go and cook the pasta—’
‘Nonsense,’ he said firmly. He poured her a glass. ‘We have to make you properly welcome. Dinner can wait. Vido won’t mind. Drink up while we all check you over.’
She smiled and capitulated, won over by his non-threatening manner. ‘You have made me welcome,’ she said, sipping the delicate white wine. ‘I was so scared of meeting you all—’
‘No monsters here, just pussy cats—even Vido!’ laughed a striking Italian woman who had just drifted to Anna’s side. ‘I’m Condalita. Welcome. Be nice to me if you want sacks of fagioli. I hold the purse strings around here.’
‘She means she’s the accountant. Brainy and beautiful. Is life fair?’ A freckled redhead, her hair twisted into extraordinary spikes, exchanged an easy grin with Condalita then shook Anna’s hand. ‘Lucy. I do the cleaning,’ Lucy announced. ‘Everyone is great, honest. No bitching, no prima donnas. It’s like being in a big family—but without the rows.’
