Ultimate Temptation Page 3

  Aware that Hal was heading in her direction, Lucy decided hastily that she would be better employed in clearing the remains of the meal. The dining room looked as if a bomb had hit it, she thought ruefully as she collected the dirty plates. Food had been spilled. A puddle of wine had collected on the table from an overturned bottle and dripped onto the floor. A lamp on a side-table had been knocked over and damaged, and one of the beautiful crystal goblets had been smashed.

  And the kitchen was even worse. Fee seemed to have used every pan and bowl to concoct her spaghetti. Lucy sighed soundlessly, tucked a towel round her waist, and set to work.

  The noise of the party seemed to be receding, and presently she heard splashing and laughter coming from outside. When she went to investigate, she found them all down at the poolside.

  It was a warm, sultry night, with the sky blazing with stars. The ornamental lamps had been lit, and someone had changed the cassette for one with music of a slower, dreamier tempo.

  Greg and Nina were dancing slowly, as if they were welded together. He was kissing the side of her neck, pushing down the straps of her dress as he did so.

  Fee and Sandie were in the water with Ben and Dave, obviously skinny-dipping, their discarded clothing lying in untidy heaps on the tiled surround. Sue’s face was frozen as she watched them, and Clare was biting her lip, close to angry tears.

  There’s going to be trouble, Lucy deduced resignedly. And I don’t really want to be involved.

  As she turned to go, she found Hal blocking her way.

  ‘Running out on us?’

  Lucy lifted her chin. ‘I’ve had a bad day. I think I’ll go to bed.’

  ‘What a wonderful idea.’ He gave her a slow, meaningful smile. ‘I’ll keep you company.’

  She didn’t return the smile. ‘I think you’d do better to stay with your friends,’ she said evenly. She nodded towards Sue and Clare. ‘Some of them don’t seem very happy.’

  ‘They can look after themselves,’ he dismissed. ‘I’ve been watching you all evening. You’re a bit of a dark horse, Lucy.’ His eyes slid over her, making her feel as naked as the revellers in the pool. ‘So, what’s your story?’

  She took his hand from her arm. ‘I haven’t one. And, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go.’

  ‘Oh, but I do mind.’ His voice hardened slightly. ‘Whatever the lads get up to tonight, tomorrow it’ll be kiss and make up with Sue and Clare. I’ve seen it all before. I’m sticking with you. You intrigue me.’

  ‘I’m afraid it isn’t mutual.’ Lucy’s tone was icy. She turned away, seeking another means of retreat, but Hal grabbed her by the shoulders and swung her round to face the others.

  ‘The lady wants to leave,’ he announced. ‘What do you say?’

  ‘Oh, let her go,’ called Fee. ‘Winters by name, wintry by nature,’ she added with a giggle. ‘She’s no loss.’

  ‘No, chuck her in here.’ Ben’s voice was slurred. ‘Serve her right for being a spoilsport.’

  ‘But don’t ruin her pretty dress,’ Greg added, leering, and Nina began to laugh.

  ‘Off, off, off,’ she chanted, and the others joined in, only Sue and Clare maintaining a tight-lipped silence.

  Lucy froze as she felt Hal’s hands, odiously familiar, fumbling for her zip. Felt her dress beginning to slide from her shoulders.

  ‘No.’ Frantically, she kicked backwards, her sandal heel connecting smartly with his shin. He swore and his grip slackened fractionally—momentarily.

  It was enough. Lucy pulled free and ran round the pool towards the sheltering darkness of the garden, desperation lending her speed, in spite of her aches and pains.

  She had some crazy idea of trying to reach the car parked at the side of the house. But there was something blocking her way again. Or someone, her mind registered helplessly as she was captured and held.

  Greg must have cut her off. At the very least, she was going to be stripped and thrown into the water, and every fibre of her being recoiled in revulsion from the thought.

  ‘Let me go.’ She began to struggle fiercely, punching and clawing at the imprisoning arms. ‘I said, leave me be, damn you.’

  ‘Sta’ zitto.’ The low voice was grimly familiar. ‘Shut up, you little fool, and be still.’

  ‘You?’ Lucy stared up at the dark, patrician face, and her voice cracked with relief, and another, less easily recognisable emotion, as she acknowledged, ‘It’s you.’

  Involuntarily, she found herself pressing against him and burying her face in his chest as she drew a shuddering breath.

  For a moment he let her remain where she was, then he put her away from him and walked forward into the lamplight.

  All heads had turned towards him as if they were on strings. The laughing and shouting had died away as if a switch had been thrown, to be succeeded by a strangely intense silence into which his voice, quiet and cold, fell like a stone.

  He said. ‘I am Giulio Falcone. And this is my house. May I know what you are doing here?’

  ‘Your house?’ Nina was the first to break the spell his appearance had created. She faced him, flushed, tousled and frankly aggressive. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

  ‘Easy,’ Ben intervened sharply. ‘It is him. It’s Count Falcone himself.’

  ‘I don’t care who he is,’ Nina flung back. ‘This place belongs to Tommaso Moressi, and we’re renting it from him.’

  ‘You are mistaken, signorina.’ Count Falcone’s voice was like steel. ‘The man you speak of, Moressi, is no more than the nephew of my servant, Maddalena. He owns nothing apart from what he can steal,’ he added contemptuously. ‘I hope you have not been unwise enough to pay him anything.’

  ‘I’m afraid we have.’ Lucy spoke, her voice hollow, her hands shaking as she put her dress to rights. ‘Three weeks’ rent, plus the use of a car and maid servce. Only the maid has disappeared—and so has Signor Moressi.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it.’ Giulio Falcone shrugged. ‘Almost certainly word of my unexpected return spread at once, and he took fright.’ He shook his head, more in sorrow than in anger. ‘Poor Maddalena. She has always indulged that worthless fool’

  ‘Poor Maddalena?’ Fee echoed shrilly. ‘To hell with that. What about us—our money?’

  She had climbed out of the pool, and the Count’s face tightened with distaste as he glanced at her.

  ‘Be good enough to cover yourself at once, signorina,’ he directed with icy formality. ‘I regret that you have been the victim of a confidence trick, but that is hardly my problem. What I must demand is that you vacate my house immediately.’ He looked around, frowning. ‘Are you all staying here?’

  ‘No.’ Ben was huddling into his clothes. He looked awkward and faintly ridiculous. ‘My parents have a place near Lussione.’

  ‘Then I suggest you return there. And take your friends with you,’ Giulio Falcone added bitingly.

  ‘No,’ Lucy said forcefully, her shocked negation instantly echoed by Sue and Clare.

  ‘You bring these slags back with us and I walk out.’ Sue glared at Ben.

  The Count’s lip curled. ‘We seem to have an impasse,’ he drawled. ‘I suggest you settle it amongst yourselves before I am forced to call the polizia.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Shall we say fifteen minutes?’

  His mention of the police had an oddly galvanising effect. Within seconds, the poolside was clear and the erstwhile tenants of the Vila Dante were on their way upstairs to pack.

  As Lucy passed the door of the salotto, she could hear a furious argument going on between Ben and the others. Hal detached himself from it and came to the door.

  ‘It’s all right, sweetheart.’ His eyes swept over her in an appraisal that combined sensuality with malice. ‘You don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ve got my own room at Ben’s place. I’ll make sure you’re looked after—as long as you start being friendlier.’

  She said with icy clarity, ‘Over my dead body,’ and went up to her room, two stair
s at a time.

  Her heart was thudding like a sledgehammer as she began to empty the chest of drawers and the wardrobe, hardly aware of what she was doing as she tried to think—to plan. She’d have to cut her losses altogether, she told herself as she piled everything untidily into her case. Somehow she’d have to make her way to Pisa and get a flight home. Anything else was unthinkable.

  She presumed she’d be able to transfer the return half of her ticket to a different flight. If not, she’d simply have to pay all over again.

  I’ll worry about that when I get there, she told herself as she dashed into the bathroom to collect her toiletries.

  When she returned to the bedroom, she realised with another thump of the heart that she was no longer alone.

  Giulio Falcone was lounging in the doorway, watching her.

  ‘You don’t have to check up on me,’ she said quickly, aware that her breathing had quickened, and resenting the fact. ‘I’ve almost finished.’

  ‘So I see.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘Are you so eager to go to Lussione?’

  ‘You know I’m not.’ She pitched her toilet bag into the case and rammed the lid shut.

  ‘No? You don’t want to be with your friends?’

  She bit her lip. ‘They’re not my friends.’

  His brows lifted sceptically. ‘Yet I observed an unusual level of intimacy for mere acquaintances,’ he murmured.

  Lucy flushed, remembering exactly what he must have seen. ‘They’re just some people we met on the plane,’ she said. ‘Nina and the others wanted to give a party—and invited them here tonight.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said with chill emphasis. ‘I have seen the trail of destruction they have left—particularly in the dining room.’

  ‘I didn’t get around to that,’ Lucy admitted wearily. ‘But I tidied the kitchen.’ She lifted her chin. ‘And I’m sure we’ll be happy to make good any damage.’

  He laughed. ‘You are being naive, signorina. Both the lamp and the glass were antiques of great value. Replacement would be impossible, and the cost inestimable.’

  Lucy’s heart sank. ‘Well, we could all chip in,’ she returned bravely. ‘And, of course, the police may find Tommaso Moressi and get our money back. You could have a claim on that, I suppose.’

  ‘I think Tommaso will be a long way from here by now, with his tracks safely covered,’ Giulio Falcone commented drily. ‘Leaving his unfortunate aunt, as usual, to pick up the pieces,’ he added cuttingly.

  Lucy looked down at the floor. ‘I understand now why she didn’t want us here. She seemed very frightened.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ he said sardonically. ‘Yet it should have been safe. I had no plans to use the villa myself until the time of the vintage. But circumstances intervened.’ He shrugged. ‘You are unfortunate, signorina. You could so easily have enjoyed your holiday uninterrupted and innocently unaware that your occupation was illegal.’

  The last word seemed to hang in the air between them, raising all kinds of disturbing implications.

  Lucy shivered. She said, ‘I’m not sure enjoyment is the word.’

  ‘No?’ The amber eyes surveyed her reflectively. ‘Yet you are dressed for an evening of pleasure.’

  Lucy gritted her teeth. That damned dress, she thought.

  ‘A bad mistake,’ she said. ‘Like the entire trip.’ She forced a smile. ‘And being mugged was really the last straw anyway. I didn’t need to be conned as well.’

  ‘How did you meet Moressi—hear about this place?’ he asked curiously.

  ‘The others used to visit a pizzeria after their Italian classes. The manager arranged it. He and Tommaso must have been in league with each other.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘I wasn’t sure about him from that first moment in Pisa. And when I saw this house—how beautiful it was, and how old—it seemed even stranger. He didn’t—fit somehow.’

  ‘He never has.’ His voice was abrupt. There was another silence, then he said, ‘So, what is the alternative to Lussione?’

  ‘Pisa,’ she said determinedly. ‘And the next flight home.’

  ‘That could present problems. This is, after all, the holiday season. There will be few spare seats available—if any,’ he added starkly.

  Lucy shrugged defensively. ‘Then I’ll find somewhere to stay—go on stand-by,’ she said with more confidence than she actually felt as she did a hasty mental calculation of her available funds.

  ‘Can you affford that?’ Clearly he wasn’t fooled.

  ‘I don’t have a choice.’ She gave him a defiant look.

  ‘How fortunate,’ he said softly, ‘that I was able to read your mind so accurately.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Lucy was suddenly very still.

  ‘Your friends have gone. I told them you would not be accompanying them.’

  Lucy stared at him, suddenly, tensely aware of how quiet the house had become.

  ‘You mean they’ve left me here alone?’ Her voice almost cracked. ‘Without even a word?’

  His smile deepened. There was something pagan in the curve of his mouth, she thought, a stir of unbidden excitement warring with the growing apprehension inside her.

  He said gently, ‘Not alone, signorina. You forget that I shall be here too. From now on you will be staying as my guest.’ He paused. ‘And also,’ he added softly, ‘as my companion.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  LUCY stared at him. She was suddenly aware that she was trembling. That all the warmth seemed to have drained from her body, leaving her ice-cold.

  There was danger here, all the more shocking because it was totally unforeseen.

  Her hands curled into fists at her sides, her nails grating across the soft palms. She tried to keep her voice level.

  ‘Companion, signore? I don’t think I understand.’

  ‘It’s quite simple. You will remain here, signorina, to make reparation for the insult which has been made to my home—my family—by you and your—acquaintances.’

  ‘I’ll remain?’ She took a startled breath. ‘But that isn’t fair...’

  Giulio Falcone shrugged. ‘By your own admission you cannot afford proper recompense for the damage that has been done. However, there are other methods of payment.’ His smile barely touched the corners of his mouth. ‘I believe we can reach a settlement that would be—agreeable to us both.’

  ‘Then you’re wrong,’ Lucy said furiously. Cold no longer, she was now burning with shame and anger, and an odd sense of disappointment. ‘How dare you even suggest such a thing? Who the hell do you think you are—and what do you take me for?’

  ‘I am Falcone.’ He threw back his head, the dark face arrogant, brooding. ‘And you are a girl who has twice trembled in my arms. Can you deny it?’

  ‘I was upset,’ she flung at him defensively. ‘The first time I’d nearly been robbed, and the second I was running away. I thought you realised that—and why...’

  ‘Ah, yes.’ His voice was reflective. ‘But, in that case, why tempt a man by wearing a dress that begs to be taken from your body and then deny him the pleasure? Your companions, after all, showed no such reticence,’ he added, his mouth curling slightly.

  She said shortly, ‘I’m responsible for no one’s conduct but my own, and I don’t play games like that.’

  ‘Are you a virgin?’

  She gasped, the colour deepening to fiery red in her face. ‘You have no right to ask me that.’

  ‘A simple “no” would have sufficed,’ he said mockingly. ‘Although—’ he sent her a narrow-eyed glance ‘—your eyes do not have the look of a woman who has known all the satisfaction that love can bring.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Lucy said haughtily.

  He laughed. ‘I’m quite sure you don’t, but it will be an exquisite pleasure to teach you some day—or some night.’

  There was a caress in his voice which shivered down Lucy’s spine and danced in her pulses. She felt the muscles in her throat tauten.

&n
bsp; She managed a brief shrug of her own. ‘Fortunately, I shan’t be around that long. As I said, I’m leaving for Pisa.’

  ‘Ah,’ the count said meditatively. ‘And just how do you propose to get there?’

  Lucy paused in the act of locking her case. ‘Why— drive there, of course.’

  ‘I did not realise you had brought your own vehicle.’

  ‘Well, I haven’t, but...’ Her voice trailed into silence as she saw his smile deepen mockingly, and the slow negative movement of his dark head.

  She said unsteadily, ‘Of course, the car is yours too. I should have realised.’

  ‘Not mine,’ he corrected her. ‘It belongs to the contessa.’

  She was very still for a moment, her thoughts whirling blankly. The idea that he could be married had never even crossed her mind. Not, of course, that it made the slightest difference...

  She said brusquely, ‘Then she has my sympathy.’

  ‘Why?’ His brows lifted enquiringly. ‘Is the car so difficult to drive?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ Lucy snapped. ‘I meant that I—I pity anyone who’s involved with a—a Lothario like you.’

  ‘You imagine, perhaps, that Lothario was an Italian.’ Giulio Falcone shook his head again. ‘You are wrong, signorina. He was the invention of an English dramatist. Just as you seem to be inventing me,’ he added, his tone dry.

  ‘It doesn’t take a great deal of imagination,’ Lucy retorted. ‘Nina was right, after all. You Italian studs are all the same.’

  ‘The looks of a dove and the tongue of a wasp,’ he said silkily. ‘An intriguing combination.’

  ‘Not for much longer.’ Lucy swung the case off the bed. ‘Will you loan me your—contessa’s car to drive to Pisa, please?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I will not.’

  She lifted her chin. ‘Right—then I’ll walk there.’ ‘In that dress?’ He surveyed her mockingly. ‘You’d be lucky to get half a kilometre. Even if the police did not stop you first,’ he added, almost casually.