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Authors: Sara Craven

BOOK: A Gift for a Lion
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She had already decided this was a mistake before she had fitted her key into the lock. Tony might just think she was providing him with a more comfortable setting in which to pursue his lovemaking. She hoped that Lynne or Fiona would have returned from their respective evenings out, but the flat was empty, and with a little sigh she went into the kitchenette to make the coffee.

When she returned with the tray of cups, Tony was stretched out on the couch, quite at his ease. He patted the cushions beside him invitingly. She sat down with obvious reluctance, taking care to keep him at a distance while she tried to think of something to say, but he was dearly uninterested in chat and it wasn't long before he tried to take her in his arms. This time she did struggle, twisting herself out of his arms and making no effort to conceal her expression of distaste.

'Oh, come off it, Jo,' he said impatiently. His face was flushed and his eyes wandered over her body
with
barely concealed desire. 'You're not Daddy's little girl any more, now. Don't try and kid me that your millionaire friend didn't teach you what it was all about.'

Joanna faced him coldly. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

Don't give me that.' His voice was almost jeering. 'I saw the state you were in when you first came back to London. Mother said at the time it was obvious you'd made a complete fool of yourself over a man and that she was surprised Uncle Bernard had allowed it to happen.'

'It's incredibly good of your mother to take such a close interest in my affairs.' Joanna was scornful.

'It's only natural. After all, you were going to be her daughter-in-law,' he said defensively. 'Anyway —I mean, nothing's really changed as far as I'm concerned, Jo. You don't have to tell me what happened on Saracina. I'd rather not know anyway. I just want you to know that as far as I'm concerned we can just start again where we left off.'

Joanna shook her head decisively. I'm sorry, Tony. It's out of the question.'

'Why?' he stared at her. 'I just don't understand you, Jo, I should have thought you'd have welcomed a bit of stability back into your life after what's happened lately. I've told you I'm willing to overlook what happened with your Italian playboy, in spite of what Mother says. I've sowed my wild oats and I suppose you're entitled to do the same…'

She jumped up and walked rapidly across the room to the door. 'I think you'd better go,' she said quietly.

He looked at her for a long moment, then got up with a shrug. As he walked past her he reached out with unsuspected force and jerked her into his arms, crushing his mouth on hers in a kiss that seemed to be endless. Joanna fought, but he did not relax his grip and she was gasping for breath when he eventually released her, smiling a little complacently.

'You're not made of stone, Jo, no matter what impression you may like to give,' he said. 'I wish I'd been the one to get to you instead of Romeo, but if he's managed to awaken you at last I suppose I ought to be grateful to him.'

'Get out,' she said between her teeth, and he raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender.

'Think about it,' he advised quietly. 'I'm in love with you, Jo, even though I've tried not to be.'

'You have the oddest way of showing it,' she returned icily.

He shrugged. 'How long do you expect the kid glove treatment to continue? I have feelings too, Jo.'

'Yes.' She took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry, Tony. It was a great mistake my continuing to see you. I believe you when you say you haven't changed. The trouble is, I have, and it's not going to work.'

'I can wait,' he said. 'Even broken hearts mend some time.'

When he had gone she sank down on the couch and began to cry. She had relied on Tony and his support more than she had admitted to herself, but it was as if a favourite brother had turned on her in many ways. She could no longer think of him as a lover and it was useless to encourage him if he thought they could ever resume their former relationship.

She was still rather quiet and wan when she arrived at Gil's studio the following morning and he noticed at once.

'I wish to God you'd get your emotional life together, Joanna,' he said irritably as he adjusted the lights. 'I approve of you losing weight, it's done wonders for your cheekbones and your hips, but this brooding is giving you circles under your eyes, dear, and I don't like it. If the man's giving you trouble, change him.'

She smiled at him tautly, submitting to having her chin tilted to an impossible angle.

'It's not as easy as that.'

'Everything's as easy as that, dear, take my word for it.' He stood back and looked at her critically through half-shut eyes. 'Yes, you're a winsome wench, my love. The man who lets you slip through his fingers is a fool. You wouldn't care to trade him in for me, I suppose.'

She had to laugh. 'Thanks, Gil, but no thanks.'

'Ah well.' He was totally unabashed. 'No harm in trying. Now then, darling. Let's try and make this rag you've got on look as if it was actually designed and sewn for some woman to wear.'

She was just emerging from the dressing room after the session when his receptionist called to her. 'Your father telephoned, Joanna. He's been held up and he wants you to meet him at his office for lunch instead of the restaurant.'

'Oh,' Joanna digested this. Her father made a point of inviting her to lunch with him two or three times a week and she still dined with him and acted as his hostess when he needed her. In some ways she saw more of him since she had left home than ever before, and their relationship had improved, she felt.

He had rarely referred to what had happened on Saracina or asked explicitly what had happened to prompt her sudden, agonised desire for flight. Leo Vargas name was never mentioned by either of them. But at the same time, she had the feeling that he had been disappointed in the way things had turned out and that he had been hoping for a totally happier outcome to their time on the island.

She decided to walk round to his office. Although summer was beginning to advance into autumn and the first leaves were falling from the trees in the squares as she passed by, it was still very warm, encouraging one to dawdle. Even though she had not done any more sunbathing since she had arrived back in England, her Mediterranean tan showed no signs of fading, although Gil grumbled about it constantly, muttering that it made her look altogether too healthy for the ethereal image he wanted her to put over:

She had to show her pass when she arrived at the large building where her father's office was situated and the security men smiled and touched their caps to her as she went in. She crossed the foyer and took the lift to the top floor, avoiding the general offices and traversing the thickly carpeted corridor to the small but comfortable room which housed her father's civilian secretary, Mrs Warner.

She was working busily, but she looked up with a smile as Joanna appeared in the doorway.

'Hello, Miss Leighton. Wasn't that your picture I saw in
Lady fair
last week?'

Joanna laughed. 'I'm surprised you recognised me under all that make-up.'

Mrs Warner's eyes twinkled. 'Well, I daresay I wouldn't have done—it was pretty lurid—but Sir Bernard pointed it out to me, as a matter of fact. I think he was secretly rather proud of it.'

'That's news to me.' Joanna lifted her eyebrows smilingly. 'Is he free? Can I go in?'

Mrs Warner hesitated and Joanna wondered if she had imagined the rather odd look the secretary gave her, but her tone was quite normal.

'Of course, Miss Leighton. I was told to see you went straight in.'

Joanna pushed open the door that led to her father's private office and walked in. The blinds had been partially lowered over the large windows to shut out the still strong sunlight and for a moment Joanna thought the room was empty. Then she saw the tall figure of a man outlined against the light and she knew even before he spoke that it was not her father.

'So we meet again, Joanna.'

She tried to speak, but words would not come, then she turned, her eyes blinded by a rush of indignant tears, fumbling for the doorhandle.

But before she could escape, he was beside her, his hand closing over hers and wrenching it away from the door, then turning her forcibly to face him at last.

'No,
mia
.' His voice was quiet, but there was a note in it that made her tremble. 'There will be no more running away.'

'Let me go!' she cried, trying to free herself, but his grip on her arms tightened inexorably.

'No, I don't want to make the same mistake twice,
mia
, I don't intend to let you go again—ever.'

'You may be the master of Saracina,' she said, her voice shaking, 'but you are now on British government property, and if you don't let go of me, I shall have you thrown out of the building!'

His teeth flashed in a sardonic grin. 'From that window no doubt,
cara
. You little fool, do you really think I could just walk in here and take over your father's office without his knowledge and permission?'

'My father—knows you are here?' She could hardly believe the enormity of the betrayal. Her father knew she had fled from Saracina because of this man. Why was he helping him now, when he knew she felt no differently?

'Naturally,
cara
. When I arrived in London last night I went straight to his house. I hoped to see you there and then, but he told me you no longer lived there. We talked and he tried to telephone you at your new address, but there was no reply.'

'No, there wouldn't have been—we were all out—there was no one to answer,' she said hurriedly, aware that stress was making her incoherent. His nearness was a torment to her. No matter how hard she had tried to drive him out of her heart and her mind, she knew she had not succeeded.

He put his hand under her chin, lifting her face and forcing her to meet his gaze in the old imperious way.

'Why did you run away from me, Joanna? And why are you still trying to avoid me now? The last time we met, you promised me your body. I thought you had also given me your heart. Was the gift too much to ask of you? If so you should have had the courage to tell me,
cara
, not run away.'

He paused for a moment, but she said nothing, so he continued, 'I asked you a question, Joanna, that night at the
palazzo
. I have come for my answer. Will you be my wife?'

She looked up at the arrogant lines of the face that had tormented her dreams, sleeping and waking, for so long, and two great tears rolled down her cheeks as she slowly shook her head.

'I—see.' His breath escaped in a long sigh, as if he had been holding it for her answer. 'May I be told why? You see,
cara
, I thought you loved me.'

'I—did.' She had almost said 'I do', but that would have been disastrous. She felt as if she was bleeding to death from some deep unseen wound.

'But I asked too much of that love in wanting you to share my life?' He stared down at her for a long moment. 'You are very young, aren't you,
cara,
I was afraid I was rushing you too much.'

'I wasn't afraid to share your life,' she cried. 'It was you I couldn't bear to share.'

It was out now, and she did not know whether to be glad or sorry.

?' His eyebrows lifted questioningly. 'But I warned you, Joanna, of the demands there would be on my time from other people. If it wasn't for those demands I would have followed you to London weeks ago.'

'I didn't mean that,' she said wretchedly.

'What, then?'

'Marisa Fallone,' Her voice faltered almost to a whisper and he had to bend his head sharply to catch the words. When she dared look at him again, his face was bleak.

'I never pretended to you that I was a saint, Joanna,' he said quietly. 'But that is over. I give you my word.'

'Perhaps it is now,' she said with difficulty. 'But it wasn't, Leo, that night you asked me to marry you. You went from my room—to her. Don't deny it. I—I couldn't bear that. You see, I saw you both together in the doorway of your room. She was wearing the bracelet you had given her. After that—I just couldn't face you again. I had to run away,' she finished on a little rush of words.

'What nonsense is this? A bracelet? I gave Marisa no bracelet'

'But she was wearing it that night. And it was about all she was wearing,' she added with a touch of school-girlish spite.

'Her choice of nightwear does tend to be exotic,' he agreed solemnly. 'But I'm sure she did not realise it was so public a matter. And you are right about the bracelet, I remember it now. But I'm surprised you could think I would be guilty of giving any woman so tasteless a piece of jewellery.'

'Then who did give it to her?'

His lips twitched slightly. 'I wasn't so indelicate as to ask,' he said almost casually. 'But I was given a strong hint that it was a new admirer who was more willing than I to give her the single-minded devotion she feels she deserves.'

'But why was she in your room?'

'I'll answer that question with another,
mia
. Why was she on Saracina at all—because I certainly did not invite her.'

She stared at him and he gave a rather grim nod.

'Yes,
mia
. My dear young cousin, Nick. I told you he wanted you for himself, didn't I? I'd played into his hands, of course, by allowing him to be your constant companion, and when I was free to pursue you myself, he tried to put a spoke in my wheel by telephoning Marisa in Rome and inviting her to the
palazzo
. Once she arrived, I could hardly snub her. Besides,' he looked at her slightly quizzically, 'I wanted to see if I could make you jealous.'

'Nick told me that you were going to marry her. He said that I was—an embarrassment to you.' Colour stained her cheeks. 'He said all you would ever want of me would be an affair—but that you knew I wasn't just another girl, and so you had to be careful.'

'He was right about one thing,
mia
. I did know, right from the start, that you were not just any girl. And I admit that I did want you very badly. But it was impossible,
cara
. With Damaryk hidden in the
palazzo
and agents from the States and Britain arriving to question him at all hours of the day and night, I couldn't let myself give personal matters priority. And you didn't help with your determination to ruin me, if you could. I had to fight hard at times to convince the security people that you weren't an agent from the other side.'

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