Flame Of Desire. Carole Mortimer

it and hated it. And she hated him! He had no right to encourage her stepmother in this folly, to use his sensuality like a flytrap against Rosemary’s ever-increasing consciousness of the coming of middle age, her awareness of the passing of the years.

      She gave the other girl a tight smile. ‘You can have him back now,’ she gave Luke a look of intense dislike. ‘I’ve finished with him.’

      ‘Well, really!’ Eve Jeffers gasped.

      Sophie didn’t wait to hear any more. She wanted only to escape, to go to her room and be sick, to wallow in her own misery. She didn’t need to look up as she was pulled round, knowing that her accoster must be Luke Vittorio.

      ‘What do you want?’ she demanded nastily.

      ‘I do not care to be dismissed in that way,’ he told her coldly.

      Sophie didn’t know how she could ever have thought his eyes magnetically seductive. Right now they were like hard angry pebbles, although she managed to meet his gaze with haughty defiance. She wouldn’t be daunted by him, not by a man she hated and despised.

      ‘Well, that’s too bad,’ she answered. ‘Because I’ve certainly dismissed you. I don’t like you, Mr Vittorio, and I make no secret of the fact.’

      ‘You most certainly do not. I would be interested to know the reason for this dislike.’

      She looked pointedly at her stepmother. ‘I’m sure you’re well aware of the reason. Let go of me!’ She shook off his hand.

      ‘You are indeed a brat.’ His dark eyes swept over her scathingly.

      ‘That’s right,’ there was challenge in every curve of her body. ‘I should try to remember that before you go any further.’

      He frowned. ‘Any further in what?’

      ‘You have your girl-friend here, let that be enough for you.’

      Luke gave a short husky laugh. ‘You are surely not implying that I am interested in you?’ Again he laughed. ‘You could not be more wrong.’

      Sophie snatched her arm out of his grasp. ‘I should damn well think so!’ her eyes spat her hatred of him. ‘I think one female member of this family under your spell is enough!’

      He shook his head, his hand falling to his side. ‘You surely do not suspect—–’

      ‘Suspect!’ she cut in shrilly. ‘I suppose that’s the right word for what you and my stepmother are doing. I more than suspect you, Mr Vittorio, and I’m sure a lot of other people do too.’ Her father included!

      ‘You could not be more wrong.’

      ‘I couldn’t be more right! Oh, I’ll admit that my stepmother ought to have more sense, but no doubt you can be flattering enough when you choose to be. She can’t exactly be blamed for her infatuation, I’m sure you encourage her. But let me tell you this,’ a hard determination entered her voice. ‘If my father ever finds out, if you ever hurt him in any way I’ll make you pay for it. I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way.’

      ‘You love your father very much?’ He appeared unperturbed by her heated threat.

      She flushed at his complete disregard for what she had said. ‘Of course I love my father,’ she snapped.

      ‘And your stepmother also?’ he pressed quietly.

      ‘That’s a stupid question,’ she said abruptly, aware that her love for her stepmother was not the spontaneous affection she felt for her father but more a love formed out of duty. And she had a feeling this man knew that!

      It was something she had worried about when she was younger, but as her stepmother made it clear she preferred not to be bothered with anything maternal she had come to realise that any affection on her part would be regarded with distaste by Rosemary. It had been a painful thing to accept, but at least she could feel happy at her father’s place in her stepmother’s affections. At least, she had! If this man did anything to spoil that …

      ‘You have not answered me,’ Luke Vittorio broke into her thoughts.

      She gave him a look of irritation. ‘I thought I had,’ she said curtly. ‘Just stay away from my family, Mr Vittorio.’

      His eyes deepened with mockery. ‘That will not be easy. I am, after all, a guest of your family.’

      ‘Of my stepmother,’ she corrected. ‘Don’t expect anything but contempt from me!’ She swung away from him, her room seeming even more of a haven now.

      ‘Sophie? Sophie, where are you going?’

      She inwardly groaned as she recognised Nicholas’s voice. She had forgotten his very existence the last few minutes. She fixed a smile on her face before turning to face him.

      ‘How are you enjoying yourself, Nicholas?’ she asked politely.

      ‘Well, I—It’s all right, I suppose. But I came here to see you. You haven’t said yet whether you’ll come over for tea tomorrow.’

      She was even more determined not to leave the house tomorrow now. She wanted to keep her eye on her stepmother and Luke Vittorio. ‘Not tomorrow, Nicholas. Perhaps next weekend,’ she added at the disappointment on his face.

      ‘You promise?’ he clutched at her hand.

      ‘I can’t promise that, Nicholas,’ she answered lightly, doing her best to release her hand without appearing too obvious. ‘Ask me later in the week.’

      ‘Oh, but—–’

      ‘Please, Nicholas,’ she put up a hand to her throbbing temple. ‘Don’t go on about it now. I—I can’t think straight.’

      He frowned his concern. ‘Aren’t you feeling well?’

      She gave a strained smile. ‘It’s just a sick headache. I was going to lie down when you stopped me.’

      ‘Without saying goodnight to me?’

      Sophie sighed. ‘I just want to lie down, Nicholas. Good manners don’t come into it when you feel like this.’

      ‘No, of course not. How thoughtless of me. I—–’

      ‘Are you all right, Sophie?’ Her father had come to stand at her side. Her pale face must have answered for her. ‘Come on,’ he put an arm about her shoulders, ’let’s get you up to your room.’

      She smiled at him gratefully. ‘Call me in the week, Nicholas,’ she called, hoping he would do no such thing.

      Her father guided her up to her room before helping her to undress and get into bed. He bathed her hot forehead for her. ‘Now, what happened to you?’ he asked gently. ‘Too much wine?’

      She grinned ruefully, knowing she could never tell him the real reason for her sudden sickness. ‘Probably,’ she agreed.

      ‘I don’t suppose young Sedgwick-Jones helped,’ he smoothed back her hair. ‘He really is a pushy young man.’

      Sophie smiled at the understatement. She looked at her father, noting how handsome he was even now at fifty-five. He was a tall man, not running to fat as many of his contemporaries were, with only faint touches of grey in his thick brown hair, a handsome, distinguished man in his own right, and yet for some reason he and her stepmother had lost that vital spark between them.

      Seeing her stepmother’s obvious interest in Luke Vittorio had opened her eyes to so many things. It wasn’t just her parents’ apparent differences in life-style that held them apart, there was something else too. She had only noticed this coldness between them the last couple of years, her stepmother’s more and more frequent visits up to London. Or perhaps it had always been there and she hadn’t noticed it; she had been away at boarding-school until she was seventeen and hadn’t had chance to observe them together that much.

      But