Fascination (17 page)

‘Let go of me!’ she cried, twisting her wrist in a furious endeavour to free herself and gaining nothing but bruises. Tears rushed to her eyes, stiffening her lashes, but Carlos was in no mood for pity, or even for noticing her distress. All that penetrated his consciousness were her anger and rejection of him. Ruthlessly he took both her arms, brought her against his granite-hard body and possessed her lips, covering them moistly in a fierce and sensuous kiss that temporarily robbed her of breath. She placed her palms against the iron hardness of his chest, employing her puny strength as she attempted to increase the tiny space she had managed to put between his body and her own.

He soon had her two small hands in his grasp, imprisoned behind her back, while his other hand slid with arrogant possessiveness down the length of her spine to bring her body to his, melding her pliancy against his hardness with the deliberate intention of forcing her to accept that there was no escape from him, that total compliance was his demand and his intention.

She stopped struggling and resigned herself to his mastery, to the determined caress of his hand kneading her quivering flesh as it gradually ignited her desire for him, crushing the last vestige of resistance. Desire licked at her senses, and when she lifted her eyes to the arrogant mask of his, she swayed in surrender, offering her glowing lips, then parting them obediently in response to the fierce pressure inflicted on them. She was aware that his hand was at her back, felt the tautness of her dress slacken as the zip was released.

The dress soon lay at her feet, and she stared down at it, lips tingling with the pleasure-pain of his kisses, cheeks coloured by embarrassment. Suddenly there was only her love, and she lifted her head to examine his chiselled male features in a sort of desperate search for any small sign that it was not solely lust that was driving him to assert his rights. But all she encountered in those dark foreign eyes was desire; they were smouldering fuses ready to ignite, and even as she stared she saw them blaze, heard a guttural sound in the depths of his throat, and before she knew it, she was being crushed to his body again, her slender frame hurt by his strength, her breasts hard against his chest.

He bent his head, taking her lips fiercely, savagely, before, in staggering contrast, his mouth began to make a gentle exploration of her face, caressing her cheeks, her temples, and down again to the tender curve of her throat, his eyes dark with a profound tenderness. His hands, too, were tender and gentle, quickening her own need to pulsating life so that he did not really need to curl his long lean fingers round her soft flesh in order to arch her body against his.

Minutes later he was with her on the bed, his restless hands gliding over her warm flesh, caressing her sensitive places, while his lips hovered against her breasts, light and teasing, fanning her desire to the fierce flame of urgent, all-consuming need.

‘Carlos… love me,’ she whispered, but almost silently. He only saw her lips move, felt the current of yearning that swept through her lovely naked body, lying there beside him, in response to the questing freedom of his hands.

‘Hydee….’ the word was uttered in a throaty bass tone, his lips against her cheek. The next moment their bodies were fused, the battering urgency of their mutual need swiftly transporting them to rapturous heights where all their earthly problems dissolved to insignificance.

Chapter Fifteen

On the day before the expected arrival of the honeymoon couple, Hydee sought her husband out in his study to ask if he would be willing to pretend that everything was all right between them.

‘It would spoil their honeymoon if Ellie thought I was unhappy,’ Hydee added unnecessarily. ‘If… if you won’t find it too difficult…’ She let her voice trail off as her mind drifted away from the present to that memorable night when he had come to her in anger and in the end made love to her so gently. Although he had not come to her since, his whole manner had undergone a change from that night onwards. He was more friendly and communicative, seeming to derive pleasure from her company; he smiled more often, took a keen interest in what she wore and how she looked generally, making remarks which, though appearing to be guarded, could only be described as flattering. He was more tolerant regarding her friendship with Gasper, although on a couple of occasions when she had come in very late she had witnessed something akin to anger in her husband’s attitude. On both occasions he had waited up for her, admonishing her for staying out so late. But Hydee had the impression that he was more pained than angry, and she supposed it was his pride that was being stung.

‘I assure you I shall not find it difficult to act as if I am a happily married man.’ Carlos’s foreign voice was low, tinged with an inflection which was impossible to define.

Hydee coloured at his words and forced a thin smile to her lips. ‘There isn’t any need for that, Carlos. Ellie knows the details regarding our marriage.’

‘She does?’

‘Of course. She shared my flat so she knew I’d applied for the post of nanny….’ Hydee broke off, shrugging. ‘She knows it all,’ she ended briefly.

‘I see. So she won’t expect either of us to be demonstrative?’

‘No.’ Hydee had to smile, for she could not for the life of her imagine Carlos being demonstrative in public.

‘What makes you smile?’ he wanted to know.

She told him, and he looked at her with a curious expression. However, all he said was, ‘You can rely on me not to do or say anything that will upset your friend.’

‘Thank you, Carlos. I’m grateful to you.’

He frowned, but made no comment, changing the subject easily as he asked if she was going to help decorate the Christmas tree. Her eyes lit up and her smile deepened to impart an added beauty to her face. ‘You look so different when you’re happy,’ he observed, and again there was something unfathomable in his voice.

‘I suppose most people look better when they’re happy,’ she said, averting her eyes lest she betray what was in her heart.

‘I hope that this visit from your friends will help to make your Christmas happy.’ He stared at her with an intentness that revealed nothing, and yet she sensed something within his mind that concerned her alone. She failed wholly to understand his attitude as he stood there by the window, superlatively groomed and attractive, his magnetic personality dominating the room. Hydee’s heart twisted, the result of a futile longing for what was out of reach.

‘I’m certainly looking forward to their visit,’ she admitted. ‘Ellie and I were such good friends when we shared the flat. It was she who saw me through that terrible time when my fiancé…’ Abruptly she stopped, but of course it was too late to prevent the question.

‘Your fiancé? You were once engaged?’

She shrugged resignedly. ‘Yes, I was.’

‘And?’ Carlos shot a searching glance in her direction.

‘He… he threw me over.’ Colour rose as memory flooded in, colour born of humiliation.

Carlos’s eyes grew hard, then narrowed. ‘When did this happen?’

‘About eighteen months ago. He fell in love with someone else….’ Again she shrugged her shoulders. ‘It’s of no importance now. I got over it.’ She swallowed convulsively to clear her throat of the little ball of pain which had suddenly lodged there. ‘One does get over these things in time.’

Carlos was silent, avoiding her eyes, and she realised that her confession had touched him deeply. It would not be unnatural for him to be thinking that, in effect, she had been rejected for a second time in favour of another woman. Did he feel a momentary twinge of compassion? she wondered when at length he met her gaze. The quiver of anger sweeping through her caused her to speak swiftly and without due thought.

‘Don’t you dare pity me, Carlos! I
hate
to be pitied! I have a wonderful friend in Gasper, so why should you pity me? I… I might marry him when our divorce comes through!’ She stopped abruptly, dropping her lids against the smouldering fury that had leapt into the dark metallic pools of his eyes.

‘Marry!’ he said hoarsely. ‘Marry Gasper?’

She shook her head, cursing herself for the loss of control which had resulted in that urge to hit out at him. ‘Forget all about it—’ she began, when he interrupted her.

‘You seem so sure there’s going to be a divorce,’ he gritted. ‘You know my attitude towards it.’

‘You’d remain married and yet separated—you living in your country and I in mine?’ When he did not answer, Hydee spoke again. ‘I intend to leave you, Carlos,’ she assured him quietly, her face pale and beautiful in its frame of gleaming dark hair, an ethereal quality about the translucent alabaster of her skin. Her limpid eyes were grave yet lit with the fire of determination, meeting those of her husband squarely, fearlessly, as she went on to add, ‘Our marriage has collapsed, and will soon be a closed chapter in our lives. It would be degrading for us both if we lived together in the way we have been doing these past weeks. I blame myself,’ she added with a sigh. ‘It was a foolhardy thing to do, and if I had given it only a few days’ thought, I’d have seen how impossible it would have been for it to work.’

‘You mean… it couldn’t have worked, whatever had happened?’

She stared, profoundly moved by something in his attitude rather than the words he had uttered.

‘I don’t understand….’ She felt a quiver of weakness in her legs, a tiny lurch in the region of her heart. ‘You… you know why it hasn’t worked.’ She was tacitly referring to Arminda, but he let that pass.

‘There are certain nonessentials to a successful marriage.’

‘Love is not one of them, Carlos,’ she returned softly. ‘In fact, it’s the first essential. Without it a marriage cannot possibly succeed.’

His gaze was inscrutable. ‘This… this affection you have for my cousin—you sounded as if it was deep….’ His voice stopped as his teeth snapped together. Hydee’s eyes widened to their fullest extent; she was denying the evidence of her ears even while the insistent hammering on her brain tapped out the word:
jealousy
.

Jealousy…. She shook her head, dazed by the incredible idea that had thrust itself into her consciousness. She looked at her husband, noting his dark countenance, the compression of his mouth, the flexed line of the jaw and the uncontrollable rioting of a nerve in his throat.
If
it were jealousy, then surely she could exploit the situation.

‘I certainly like Gasper very much,’ she managed, feeling a liar because she was subtly inserting more emotion into her words than she felt.

‘And he?’ with a rasping inflection. ‘He feels the same way about you?’

‘Of course. We’ve known from the first that there’s something rather special about our friendship.’ That at least was true, she thought.

‘Are you telling me you love Gasper?’ he demanded. Hydee paused, unable to look him in the face and lie. Her hesitation told him far more than words ever could, and she heard a long drawn-out escape of breath, saw the curve of an enigmatic smile hover on his lips as he said, ‘We shall leave it until after Christmas, Hydee, and then have a serious talk. Meanwhile, I have promised to act as if I…’ He stopped, then rephrased his words. ‘Between us we shall satisfy your friends that you are happy.’

***

The day before Christmas dawned sunny and comparatively warm, with the sky crystal clear except for a fine lacy veil of cirrus clouds floating over the terraced hillsides where the vineyards lay.

Hydee rose and went to the window, throwing wide the drapes to get a view of the gardens, dewy bright and colourful in the early-morning sun. She stretched luxuriously, her thoughts with Ellie and Ray, who had arrived the previous evening in time for dinner. Carlos had been especially gracious on greeting them, with the result that any fears which Ellie had still harboured about her friend had dissolved at once.

‘He’s marvellous!’ Ellie had exclaimed when she and Hydee were alone for a short while just before dinner. ‘You were right and I was wrong, that’s for sure!’

Hydee had sighed a little, wondering why her recent optimism had so swiftly evaporated. She was having to assume a happiness and contentment she was far from feeling, because the more she dwelt on it, the more she felt she had been mistaken in suspecting her husband of jealousy. He had invited Arminda and her mother to the Christmas Eve party, so it was unlikely that he was thinking of giving her up.

Opening the bedroom window, Hydee stepped onto the balcony in her bare feet, forgetting everything but the sheer undiluted purity of the morning. New impressions crowded in—the pure light atmosphere, the jewelled foliage of the trees, the colourful sheen of the hillsides and the winding earthy path far down in the valley. Hydee stood a long while in deep appreciation of the tranquil panorama presented to her gaze; she seemed to have no sense of time, no urgency to begin the numerous tasks in front of her.

Half an hour later, when she was ready to go down to breakfast, she saw Ellie and Ray strolling in the garden hand in hand. A tiny sigh escaped her, but she was happy for them. Their future was rosy because of the love they had for each other.

Carlos was already in the breakfast salon when she arrived there, and the delicious smell of freshly cooked bacon and kidneys assailed her nostrils. Carlos smiled, and she responded, her spirits lifting because of his mood.

‘Ellie and Ray are in the garden,’ she informed him, looking faintly troubled. ‘I hope they won’t keep you waiting too long, Carlos.’

‘Don’t apologise for your friends,’ he said at once, a curve of wry humour on his lips. ‘They’re on their honeymoon and must do as they like.’

‘Thank you,’ she said simply, and sat down on the chair he had pulled out for her. He seemed to stay above her; she caught the fresh, almost exhilarating smell of after-shave mingling with newly laundered linen. Her hair moved. Had his chin touched it? Hydee caught her breath, tilting her head, and her eyes met his. Nerve centres quivered, blood pumped unevenly through her veins. Her whole being was vitally alive to his nearness and the fact that it was he alone who made it so.

‘I’ve told Caterina to give the children their breakfast in the nursery this morning,’ he said, moving at last to take a seat opposite her. ‘I thought you and your friends could chat better without the interruption of the children.’