The Heat Of Passion Read online

  'But why should he fear that?' She wanted him to tell her what his sister had already told her.

  'As a man who married for the first time as a teenager, he cannot comprehend my single state.'

  Disappointment assailed her. He was lying to her...or at the very least mounting a cover-up. He did not confide in her. It shook her that they could have shared something so intimate last night and yet he could still hold her at a distance. Her own emotions were not similarly disciplined. She had lost all ability to stand back and be rational. She was too involved now.

  'He doesn't seem particularly happy in his own marriage,’ she said drily.

  'Sunny is forty years his junior. Would you expect a match made in heaven? He's content enough. He only ever looked for two things from your sex. An ability to decorate the bedroom, and to reproduce.'

  Jessica was chilled. Presumably Sunny had married for money and position but she reckoned that the redhead paid for her pleasures. Now she asked herself if Carlo wanted any more from a woman than his father ever had. Right now, Carlo was using her, and last night he had used her body as well. Why didn't she face that harsh reality head-on?

  He had brought her here to pretend to be his fiancee but she was being forced into deeper deception with every hour that passed. And he had yet to explain why to her satisfaction. How did she know whether or not his principal motivation was connected with the terms of his inheritance? He wasn't going to admit it, was he?

  And suddenly, she wondered if that might be why Sunny had attempted to the best of her limited influence over Lukas to hold off the wedding... why Sunny might have been so keen to prove that their engagement was a fake. Were Carlo and Sunny competing in the same competition? How was Lukas's immense wealth tied up?

  The blood chilled in Jessica's veins. She didn't know what to think, swerved from one moment to the next, but now she recognised how much making love with Carlo had increased her sense of insecurity. She could live with the deception if it was just a matter of pleasing a dying man... she could not live with it or herself on any other terms. It would be too unbearably, cruelly humiliating.

  'You're astoundingly quiet.' Without warning, his lean brown hands moved up to her breasts, cupping them, and she quivered violently, her rigidity evaporating in a surge of heat.

  'You're wearing a bra,' he complained.

  'Don't!' she gasped, sudden tears lashing the back of her eyes. Dear lord, she felt so vulnerable now. She craved his touch helplessly but then she wondered how much this meant to him. A little light relief on an island where there was no other sexual outlet for his desires, or did he get even more of a kick out of her wanton response? Revenge... how much did that play a part in his apparent hunger for her?

  Dropping his hands, Carlo spun her easily round to face him. Surprising lines of strain were engraved between his expressive mouth and arrogant nose. She met dark golden eyes that riveted her bonelessly in place. 'I want to forget Paradiso and its occupants for an afternoon.' Carlo pushed back the silver hah’ curving her cheekbones and framed her uncertain face with both hands. 'When I make love with you, I forget everything else. It is the sweetest oblivion I know,’ he stated huskily.

  Her heart jumped behind her breastbone. She turned to watch the two crewmen unfurling the sails, wretchedly aware of just how badly she wanted to believe him. The yacht sailed round Paradiso. Since the cay encompassed little more than a square mile of territory that didn't take long. Jessica let Carlo show her down into a comfortable cabin and display the range of swimwear available for her use. She took her time selecting a bikini in the least daring design. When she climbed the com-panionway, she saw the crewmen speeding away in the motorboat.

  'Why have they gone?'

  'To leave us in privacy,' Carlo advanced, amused by her question, intent golden eyes lazily skimming over the full thrust of her breasts and the rounded swell of her hips.

  A deep flush warmed her skin.

  He stripped off his shirt and cast it carelessly aside.

  He had a truly magnificent torso. Her tongue stole out to moisten her dry lips as he embarked on his jeans.

  She expected him to reveal swimming briefs beneath but Carlo skimmed off down to bare golden flesh. 'I never wear anything when I'm swimming,’

  'So I see.' Magnetised by the view, she stared like a schoolgirl as he executed a perfect dive off the yacht and broke into a fast crawl that cut through the water.

  A less able swimmer, she got into the water by way of the steps provided. The sea was deliriously warm. After a little exercise, she let herself float, heat beating down on her wet body like a rejuvenating drug.

  Carlo surfaced beside her. 'You're not very active.’

  'Don't pull me under or anything smart like that!' she warned nervously.

  He kissed her instead, and in the sudden blinding grip of sensation she forgot to paddle and was hauled upright again by Carlo before she slid beneath the surface. 'Float,' he suggested gently, amusedly.

  Half an hour later, she was reclining on a sun-lounger, a Daiquiri clasped in one hand, as she let relaxation seep luxuriously through her every limb. She opened her eyes behind her sunglasses when the glorious heat was abruptly reduced by Carlo's arrangement of a parasol above her. 'Spoilsport,’ she muttered.

  'You'll bum...and if you bum,' Carlo said with single-minded cool, ‘I won't be able to touch you.'

  'I would prefer to bum '

  'Uar.' He reached for her with hands that brooked no argument and she trembled as the sunwarmed heat of his body met electrifyingly with hers. He had dispensed with the towel he had knotted round his lean hips.

  •Don't you think you should put some clothes on?' she gasped.

  'I think you need a few anatomy lessons,' he laughed softly, indolently, scanning her hot cheeks. 'Did he undress in the dark?'

  'That is a disgusting question!' Jessica was suddenly infuriated by the sheer blaze of his sexual confidence.

  Did he think desire would make a mindless slave out of her? Did he think he could use sex to blind her to everything else?

  'And to return to the subject you keep dropping,' she snapped. ‘I don't want to go through with a fake wedding.'

  Carlo gazed down at her and slowly, erotically moved on her, forcing her into raw acquaintance with his arousal. 'Sometimes we all have to do things we don't want to do.'

  'Meaning that you don't either?' In quite irrational annoyance, her mouth tightened as she fought to suppress the shivering hunger he was invoking in her with such insulting ease.

  'A wedding-ring has to be about the last reward I

  would want to give you '

  Her amethyst eyes widened to their fullest extent. 'Reward? You consider going through a disgusting parody of a wedding ceremony a reward?'

  Untouched by her fury, Carlo cast her a grim smile. 'Parody or not, it will still be a true marriage and you will still be my wife... for a while.'

  'You smirking, self-satisfied toad!' Jessica launched up at him. 'You think that's a reward? It's a punishment! Unlike you, I have some respect for the sacrament of marriage. It's not just a useful ploy to me.. .you'd use anything and anybody to get what you want!'

  Hooded dark eyes surveyed her. Abruptly, he lifted himself fluidly from her and vaulted upright, contempt in every angle of his bearing. 'Would I?’ he parried drily. 'Six years ago, I could have told your father how close we had become and I am quite sure he would have strained every sinew sooner than watch you marry Turner!'

  Her furious gaze dropped from him. She had never thought of that possibility. His derisive withdrawal exercised a similarly disturbing effect on her. She felt bereft.

  'I could have personally dealt with Turner. I could

  have made marrying you such a humiliation that he

  would have been forced to save face by calling off the

  wedding!' Carlo continued with biting conviction. 'I did

  neither of those things. I kept quiet. I stood back... I

 
; allowed you to make your own decision ‘

  'Damn you!' Jessica gasped. "There was no decision. You treated me like a whore!'

  "That is not true.’

  'Yes, it is. And don't you dare forget the background of blackmail and pressure that came before it!' Jessica urged bitterly. 'I never have. You made no attempt to understand how I felt. I had betrayed Simon. I had done something unforgivable to a man I believed I loved. I was confused and ashamed and I couldn't handle it. And what did you do? You gloated. You didn't care about how anybody felt, except yourself. You said that was true of your father but it was equally true of you then!’

  Carlo was standing stock-still, his piercing gaze wholly pinned to her distressed face. 'You said... the man you believed you loved. So you finally admit it,' he grated, throwing his ebony head back. 'You finally admit that you didn't love him,’

  Jessica whirled away, cursing her impulsive tongue and the descent into temper which removed all restraint. Her knuckles showed white as she curved her unsteady hands fiercely round the rail. ‘I thought I loved him... later I realised that I didn't...at least,' she stumbled in her turmoil, 'not the way I should have loved him.’

  'Later!’ Carlo ejaculated with lancing contempt. He followed it up with something that sounded exceedingly rude in Greek.

  In anguish, Jessica closed her eyes, breathing deeply. She had loved Simon as a friend. Had their marriage

  been normal, she might have continued to believe that she loved him, but when they had lived month after month with separate bedrooms and the relationship of a brother and sister, she had had too much time in which to analyse the fact that sexually Simon did not attract her and that, if she offered herself, tried to talk to him about the lack of a physical relationship, she did it out of guilt and the belief that that willingness was the very least she owed him. Ironically, that attitude had kept Simon at even more of a distance until he fell ill and sex became the least of their worries, she conceded sadly.

  'I did not treat you like a whore ‘

  'Ten days ago, you called me one for what we did that

  day! And that is how you treated me,’ she condemned

  starkly, sticking to her point. 'I was only twenty and I

  had no experience of a man like you. You are the one

  who took advantage, Carlo '

  'I wanted you.' The assurance was harsh, immoveable, no admission of fault.

  Her mouth twisted painfully. 'Regardless of cost or decency? I paid in spades for what I did. Loyalty is very important to me. I could hardly live with myself and all for what... a little entertainment for you, so that you could prove that I was susceptible? Was it worth it?' she demanded shakily.

  'No,’ he murmured, suddenly very quiet. 'Looking back, I see that it was not worth the cost.'

  Involuntarily she looked at him. His chiselled profile might have been carved from marble. All of a sudden she wanted him to argue the point, which was crazy. He should never have touched her that day but then neither one of them had been in control. She saw that now. Carlo had been as possessed as she was by the passion that had flared up between them. But that didn't mean she forgave him for his behaviour afterwards.

  He sailed the yacht back in alone. She couldn't wait to get off it. She couldn't cope with Carlo's moody in-

  trospection. Silence from Carlo was not golden. She felt shut out, banished. She had the lowering suspicion that he could barely bring himself to look at her and without the false strength of anger and bitterness over the past she found that she was weak and horribly vulnerable to

  the chill in the air.

  She spent ages getting ready for dinner, lazing in a bath for a full hour and fussing unnecessarily with her hair. The dress she chose was black. It suited her mood, a long dark sheath hugging every curve. She would rival Sunny, she thought wryly.

  Lukas was absent from the dinner-table. 'He's resting in bed,' Marika explained. 'There has been too much

  excitement.'

  Sunny, brilliant as a butterfly in emerald lace, laughed thinly. 'Excitement? Here on this godforsaken rock? You've got to be joking!'

  "This is a difficult time for all of us,' Marika

  murmured.

  'He's dying but I might as well be dead too,' Sunny complained bitterly. 'I hate this place.'

  'Nobody's keeping you here.' Marika's plump face was flushed with rare anger.

  ' Well, thank you very much!' Shooting Marika a look of outrage, Sunny rose from the table and stalked from

  the room.

  'I should not have said that,' Marika whispered in distress, tears blurring her brown eyes.

  Carlo said something in Greek and patted his sister's hand. She squeezed his fingers gratefully, her lips wobbling into a rueful smile.

  ' I shall go and sit with Lukas,' Carlo announced before dessert was served. He strode out of the room without a backward glance in Jessica's direction.

  Jessica went off to explore after dinner, wandering through beautifully furnished and decorated reception rooms that were lifeless. She was delighted to come upon

  a library and, locating the English section, selected a Jane Austen she hadn't read for several years. But Miss Austen failed her for the very first time. Jessica found it impossible to concentrate.

  Standing up again, she cast the novel aside and stepped through the curtains to open the french windows that featured in virtually every room. She walked along the terrace. As she passed by open doors, she caught Surmy's voice clear as a bell.

  'You can't love her, Carlo.. .you can't possibly love her!' she was arguing shrilly. 'And he can't force you to marry her!'

  'Control yourself,' Carlo breathed fiercely. 'Have you any idea what he would do to you if he knew you were here with me?'

  'You want me...not her!' Sunny told him. 'I love you...you know I do! Look at the risks I've taken!'

  Carlo said something that might have been a swear word.

  Jessica had stopped dead in her tracks. There was a curious ringing in her eardrums. She couldn't breathe. The curtains weren't drawn. She could see them. Carlo had his back to her. Sunny had flung herself into a chair to sob hysterically.

  'Why don't you tell him that you don't want to marry her?' she demanded wildly. 'You're the only one of us who can afford to stand up to him. He'll give you whatever you want.'

  'I doubt very much that that includes his wife, cast-off or otherwise,' Carlo said very drily.

  'God forgive me, I can't wait for him to die!' Sunny sobbed.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  AN INVOLUNTARY moan escaped Jessica and Carlo spun fluidly round. But by then Jessica had already fled, her sole desire to escape. She raced down the steps that led into the gardens, her breath sobbing in her throat.

  'Jessica!'

  Lights came on, illuminating the outdoors. Jessica kept on running blindly, heedless of the shrubs that tore at her. The heel of one of her shoes snapped when she stumbled. She kicked it off and then bent to rip off the other one. She headed for the steps that would take her to the beach, down and down and down again, far too fast for safety but truly not caring whether or not she fell and hurt herself. Carlo was behind her. She could hear his pursuit and she moved as if the devil were on her heels.

  She tore on to the beach and instantly into the cloaking cover of the trees, struggling desperately not to gasp for oxygen, her hand crammed against her convulsing

  mouth.

  'Jessica!' Carlo roared, and she froze in her hiding

  place.

  She watched him stride down the beach, lean hands on hips, a desperate urgency in his very aggressive movement. Maybe he would tie a big rock to her ankle and drown her if he found her. The secret she had learnt was undoubtedly the biggest danger he had ever faced. He moved off towards the jetty and immediately she set off again in the opposite direction.

  Her dress tore on a branch, scraping her abdomen, painfully. Pulling free, she kept going until she couldn't^

  keep going an
y longer. Her breasts heaving with the effort of breathing, she collapsed where she stood. The agony folded in and she shuddered and shook, hugging herself with trembling arms, rocking back and forth without realising it.

  Carlo and Sunny. His father's wife. It was obscene, unbearable. How could she have been so blind? Sunny hadn't been confused when she came to Jessica's room. Sunny had known that Jessica was simply a pawn on the board. Did Lukas suspect that his wife and his son were having an affair? Was that why Jessica had been required as a smoke-screen for this visit?

  Jessica covered her face and wanted to die. No wonder Sunny had attempted to hold off the wedding. She was in love with Carlo. Dear God... no wonder Carlo had refused to tell her the truth. No decent human being would have agreed to such a deception.

  Carlo was even prepared to go to the lengths of marrying her to be convincing! Carlo had made love to her last night while the woman he really loved slept under the same roof. Jessica was a mass of pain and wounded emotion. Sunny had been responsible for that room miles away from Carlo. Sunny had been jealous. Sunny hadn't wanted the deception to go that far. But then Carlo was cleverer. Carlo had been determined to play the masquerade for real for his shrewd father's benefit. And he hadn't drawn the line at driving poor, stupid Jessica mad with desire and ensuring that she fulfilled the agreement to the very last letter.

  A twig snapped. That was her only warning. Her swollen eyes opened. Carlo was hunkered down in front of her. 'Go away!' she gasped.

  He ignored her. An unexpectedly gentle hand lifted One of her bare feet and he groaned. 'You've cut your feet to ribbons...you're bleeding!'

  Dimly she was aware of the stinging of her maltreated flesh but it was her heart and her pride and her ability

  to trust that was causing her the most unimaginable pain. She bowed her head down on her raised knees, tight as a spring with tension.

  Carlo swore succinctly. 'Come here!' A powerful hand closed round one scratched forearm.

  'No!' Her voice broke right down the middle as she reeled back, desperate to avoid the contact.