Tempted By Desire. Carole Mortimer

tall. At just over five feet herself she felt cosseted and cared for in the company of tall men. Yes, she knew exactly what he would look like: tall, elegant, with a lithe masculine body. And he would look at her as if she were the most beautiful thing in his world.

      She burst out laughing at her thoughts. Now she was just being imaginative. Beautiful was something she wasn’t and never could be. Short bouncing blonde curls surrounding a heart-shaped elfin face could never be called beautiful in any language. As far as she was concerned, her only redeeming feature was her huge green almond-shaped eyes surrounded by thick naturally dark lashes. But what man would want to marry her for her eyes? Robert would! But in no way could he be made to fit into her picture of her ideal man, with his reddish-brown hair and laughing blue eyes. And he wasn’t tall, at least, only moderately so, and his physique could only be described as thin. No, she would have to face it and so would Robert, he just wasn’t the man for her. Besides, he wasn’t nearly sophisticated enough. Her ideal man was older than herself by at least five years, worldly and knowledgeable, with all the self-assurance she herself lacked.

      She sighed deeply. What was the use of dreaming, with someone like Celeste about she didn’t stand a chance with any man, let alone one of good looks. Celeste, with her tall proud body, her thick vibrant auburn hair, and most of all her perfect beautiful face. Suzanne’s father hadn’t been the first man to fall for Celeste’s deceptive innocently charming demeanour. He had been flattered and bemused by the evident interest of such a beautiful twenty-two-year-old to his already forty years. So flattered that within a few short weeks of meeting the two of them had become man and wife.

      And a few weeks after that Suzanne had been sent away to school! She saw her father occasionally during the school holidays, although more often than not she had been told she was to stay on at school for the holidays too. Not that she had minded too much at first, a lot of other girls did it too, but after a time it had begun to pall. The few times she did go home for the holidays Celeste was noticeable by her absence. Not that Suzanne minded this either, she much preferred to be alone with her father, but it was apparent that her father would have much rather have been with his young, not always faithful wife.

      She had naturally been upset when her father was killed in a road accident not long before she was due to leave school. She had been sixteen, and it had been then that she had found that although her father had lived his life to the full in the last six years, he had done it by using up every penny he possessed. Celeste and she had been left destitute, and although it was a blow to her, it was complete devastation to Celeste. None of her so-called friends, male or female, had wanted to know her then, making it perfectly obvious that if she couldn’t pay her way then she wasn’t welcome. Most of these people had been hangers on anyway, and now there was nothing to hang on to.

      For Suzanne the future had been clear. She was to go to college and later to university, her main subjects being anatomy and physiology, which she hoped eventually to go on to teach. But for Celeste things hadn’t been so easy, if missing meals and walking everywhere could ever be called easy. How Celeste had survived the next three years Suzanne hadn’t gone into too deeply, but she felt sure it must have involved a man with money. Now Celeste had decided she wanted more than money. She wanted marriage, and if possible, a title. This hotel dealt only with the elite and titled, and as Suzanne knew, Celeste was a very determined woman. But as she had tried to point out, most of the earls or whatever they were called were as broke as they were. But Celeste wouldn’t be daunted, she felt confident enough of her own beauty and determination to catch herself a rich prize.

      No one had been more surprised than Suzanne when her stepmother had invited her to stay here too, and no one but a fool would have turned it down. She had lived for too long in a badly decorated bed-sitter, missing too many meals than was good for her, and studying much too hard to turn down the opportunity of six weeks of absolute luxury. She hadn’t enquired where the money had come from for them to book into one of the most exclusive hotels in London, and any guilt she might have felt about Celeste paying all the bills was quickly quenched. Celeste had calmly informed her that she was only required to lend respectability to her own stay there. Escorting her stepdaughter for her health was the story Celeste had put about, and Suzanne’s too thin, delicate appearance lent truth to such a lie. Never mind that her experiences of the last three years had given her a toughness and strength of body and mind that made her a much more durable person than Celeste. At least, she hoped it did.

      Celeste’s constant truculence was beginning to be an irritant she was finding it impossible to bear. She had imagined Celeste would quickly find her doting rich suitor and leave her pretty much to herself. Not so. Celeste was very choosy about her escorts, and although Suzanne knew a couple of them were rich and very interested in her stepmother, Celeste quickly spurned them. It was as if she were waiting for something—or someone. Someone in particular.

      Oh, it was too nice a day to let Celeste spoil it for her! She would go down to the pool anyway. She quickly changed into a green bikini that matched her eyes and slipping on a beach robe of the same colour to cover her near-nakedness she ran quickly out of the room and into the lift.

      The clothes had been Celeste’s idea too, insisting that her denims and tee-shirts weren’t suitable attire. Not that she was supposed to look too attractive, just elegant enough to be thought the stepdaughter of a rich widow. Another of Celeste’s lies. If it was known she was using every penny she possessed on this last fling then she would be known for what she was, a gold-digger.

      At almost five o’clock in the evening the pool and its surrounding loungers were beginning to empty. Most of these people would shower and rest before changing for dinner, then spend an hour or so drinking, and the same after their meal. Suzanne knew the routine so well, and she was sick of it all. Well, tonight she wasn’t going to do that. She would laze by the pool for as long as she felt like it, go up, and shower and change in her room before strolling over to one of the cafés she had seen in the square and treating herself to a simple meal. She only hoped Celeste didn’t bother to look in her room but just went down to dinner without her. Another argument tonight would be more than she could bear.

      Slipping off her robe and dropping her sun-glasses on to a lounger, she ran lithely to the edge of the pool to jump capably into the heated blue water. Mmm, it was delicious! She pushed back the hair that had plastered to her face, licking droplets of water from her lips. Over the last few days she had managed to acquire a golden tan and her hair looked very blonde against the darkened skin.

      Turning on her back, she swam effortlessly from one end of the pool to the other, revelling in her solitariness. At exclusive places like this hotel there always seemed to be someone standing beside you ready to carry out the least little request, and while it may have seemed rather exciting the first couple of days, this attention soon became rather tedious. But for once the waiters all seemed to be elsewhere, and she relaxed completely, closing her eyes and drifting dreamily.

      ‘Excuse me, signorina,’ a deep voice broke into her meanderings. ‘You are alone here?’

      Suzanne trod water, looking to the nearside of the pool. Wow! She blinked rapidly. The man of her dreams! Tall and lithe, dark hair, quizzical teasing eyes, and those faint lines at either side of his nose and mouth giving evidence to his sophistication and experience. He looked anything between thirty and thirty-five, much older than the five years’ difference she had wanted in their ages, but everything else was perfect. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was fantastic, marvellous, and she couldn’t believe she was seeing him.

      ‘Signorina?’ He frowned his puzzlement at her long silence, his blatant good looks not marred by the action. He stood at the side of the pool, relaxed and confident, his only attire a pair of white bathing trunks that clung like a second skin and emphasised the darkness of his own skin.

      There were many foreign people staying at this hotel and she couldn’t help her curiosity at his being sure she was English. ‘Why did you address me in English?’ she asked him, completely ignoring his own question.

      He shrugged his shoulders and smiled, showing clear even white teeth, giving him an oddly boyish look. ‘With hair the colour of corn you would most likely be either English or American. You also have their air of freedom.’