Flame Of Desire

She turned away angrily, accepting a glass of champagne from the tray Martin was offering to the guests. She had quite expected Luke Vittorio to excuse himself as soon as it was polite to do so, but no, he seemed quite content to talk to Nicholas.

‘The stem of that glass is not my throat,’ he said from close behind her.

Sophie turned hurriedly to confront the artist, releasing the tight grip she had on the glass. ‘Do you have reason to think it was?’ she returned lightly.

‘Oh, yes,’ he gave a slight smile. ‘Do you not think it was rather cruel of you to leave your young friend like that?’

Her violet eyes glowed her malicious pleasure. ‘Didn’t you enjoy your little chat with him?’

‘I enjoyed it very much. I thought you cruel to Mr Sedgwick-Jones, not myself.’

‘To Nicholas?’ she frowned her puzzlement.

‘Yes. I am sure he came here this evening with the sole purpose of being with you. He did not expect to have to answer my quite extensive questioning about his livestock.’

She gave him a suspicious look. ‘Extensive questioning?’

He gave an inclination of his dark head. ‘I have a farm myself in America—or perhaps you would call it a ranch.’

‘You have a ranch?’ She was aware that she was repeating everything he said, but he had taken her aback. She had fully expected him to be as bored with Nicholas as everyone else seemed to be.

‘A few acres,’ he confirmed.

She felt sure that ’a few acres’ amounted to hundreds, possibly thousands. ‘But your home is in London,’ she pointed out.

‘I have no—home. I live where it suits me, and no doubt one day it will suit me to live in America. I have a manager there at the moment, but I visit from time to time.’

She could just see this man astride a horse, master of all he surveyed. The healthy tinge to his swarthy skin indicated that he did not spend all of his time working indoors and socialising now. No, there was power in his muscular physique, not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his tall agile body.

‘So you can understand,’ he continued, ’that I found your friend’s conversation very interesting. He is very knowledgeable on certain subjects.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed tightly.

The amusement in his dark eyes deepened. ‘You did not expect me to find him so,’ he mocked.

Sophie gave him a furious look. ‘Are you always so arrogant and—and emotionless?’ she snapped.

Luke’s mockery became more pronounced. ‘I do not think I am the one to ask about that. I have all the usual male appetites and emotions.’

‘I know that,’ she sneered. ‘And not all of your conquests are single wom …’ She broke off, looking with horror from him to her stepmother and back again. Oh no, she couldn’t believe it, not Rosemary and this man! But what other explanation could there be, why else did her father look so anxious and her stepmother so glowingly beautiful?

She had always known that her stepmother and father didn’t have the normal marriage of her friends’ parents, the two of them enjoyed a different life-style, but that Rosemary could be interested in another man had never occurred to her. They had always appeared fond of each other, but she doubted her parents were actually in love with each other. But another man …

‘You have gone very pale.’ Luke Vittorio stood in front of her, shielding her from the rest of the people in the room. ‘Are you feeling unwell?’

She swallowed hard, nausea rising up in her throat. ‘I—I feel sick,’ she choked, unable to look at him.

‘I think you should go to your room and lie down,’ he advised. ‘Perhaps you would like me—–’

‘I wouldn’t like you to do anything,’ she snapped, her eyes flashing her dislike.

‘Why me in particular?’

She glared at him. ‘I think you know the answer to that. Excuse me, I can’t bear—–’

‘Luke,’ Eve Jeffers came up to them, smiling broadly, ’I can’t seem to get you alone this evening.’ She gave Sophie a disparaging look. ‘The Bedford women seem to be monopolising your attention.’

At least she had progressed from a brat to a woman! And she understood this woman’s reference to her stepmother looking forward to Luke’s arrival now, understood 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 she was sure her father was still deeply in love with Rosemary, knew that he could be deeply hurt by Luke Vittorio. But she wouldn’t let it happen, would stop it somehow.

She smiled shakily at her father as he tucked the covers in around her. ‘I love you, Daddy,’ she said huskily.

He gave her a strange look, a slight frown on his face. ‘I know you do, poppet. And I love you. Rest now, try to get some sleep. And no wine for you next time.’

Sophie kept up her smile until he had left the room. She didn’t know how she was going to do it, but she was going to stop this affair between her stepmother and Luke Vittorio. After all, there couldn’t be anything serious between them, certainly not on Luke Vittorio’s part anyway; his affairs were well known.

And he had brought Eve Jeffers with him, although she could just be a smoke-screen. The model seemed to know something was going on, but perhaps she didn’t know enough. Or perhaps she didn’t care. There was no chance of the affair becoming a serious one, so perhaps the model was just biding her time. That seemed the most logical explanation, and it would explain her bitchiness towards Rosemary.

Sophie looked up with a start as her stepmother came into the room. She couldn’t remember the last time Rosemary had been in here.

Her stepmother looked down at her. ‘Your father tells me you aren’t feeling well.’

‘No,’ she agreed huskily, kneading the sheet between thumb and finger.

‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘Just a sick headache.’

Rosemary frowned. ‘Your father seemed to think it was the wine.’

‘Yes.’

‘I suppose this is your excuse for your rudeness earlier on,’ Rosemary snapped.

Sophie had known this was coming, had known since her outburst to Luke Vittorio at the dinner table that her stepmother would not let the incident pass. And in the light of her discovery about the two of them Rosemary’s anger was all the more understandable. She wouldn’t want to lose the handsome Italian because of the rudeness of her stepdaughter.

‘Yes,’ she nodded.

Her stepmother’s blue eyes were coldly angry. ‘What sort of an answer is that?’

‘I—Well, I just don’t like Mr Vittorio.’ Was it her imagination or did she see a faint glimmer of relief in her stepmother’s face? If she had it didn’t show now.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, everyone likes Luke.’

‘Well, I don’t,’ Sophie said sulkily.

‘It isn’t that important anyway. He’ll only be painting you, nothing else.’

Oh yes, he would, he would be providing a perfectly respectable reason for her stepmother and himself to keep in contact, to occasionally be seen together. Well, not if she could help it!

‘I don’t want to be painted by him.’

‘You’ll do as you’re told.’ Rosemary had obviously run out of patience with her. ‘And I don’t want any more rudeness to him. Your father would be very shocked if he knew about your behaviour.’

Not if he knew the real reason behind it! ’Yes, Mummy.’

Rosemary gave her a sharp look, suspecting sarcasm and finding none. ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ and she slammed out of the room.

Sophie kept a watchful eye on her stepmother and Luke Vittorio all the next day, although there was really nothing to witness today. Perhaps Luke Vittorio had learnt by his folly of yesterday, but he seemed to keep a polite distance between himself and the other guests, Eve Jeffers being the only person he appeared to talk to.

Helen duly arrived for tea, blushing profusely after Sophie had introduced her to the artist. ‘Gosh, he’s lovely!’ She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Sophie gave her a disgusted look. ‘He’s arrogant and conceited.’

Helen’s eyes widened before her gaze wandered back to Luke Vittorio as he stood talking to Sophie’s father on the other side of the room. She couldn’t seem to see anything but the handsome Luke Vittorio, loving the way the cream trousers and shirt clung to his muscular body and accentuated his swarthy colouring.

‘Surely not?’ she said breathlessly.

‘Believe me, he is.’ And he had no right to be talking so casually to her father, not when he was having an affair with his wife. But a man like that wouldn’t give a damn.

‘Ooh, look!’ squealed Helen. ‘They’re coming over!’

And they were too, the two men talking amicably together. Her poor father, it wouldn’t occur to him to suspect this man of being interested in his wife.

Her father smiled at the two girls. ‘Mr Vittorio—Luke, has just been telling me that he would very much like to paint you, Sophie,’ he told her triumphantly.

She raised shocked eyes to that dark satanic face, flinching at the cold disdain for her in his eyes. ‘I don’t—–’

‘Of course I will not be able to travel down here for your sittings,’ Luke Vittorio spoke for the first time. ‘You will have to visit me at my apartment in London for that.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘OH, but—–’

Her father frowned. ‘Surely that isn’t necessary, Luke. A couple of sittings down here would be enough.’

Luke shook his head. ‘I am afraid not. I do not work that way. I cannot work from sketches, and as I said, I do not have the time to travel down here for the necessary sittings.’

Sophie was speechless after her first words of protest. She didn’t want to travel up to London to see this man, visit his apartment, spend any more time in his company than she needed to. The glittering satisfaction in his deep brown eyes told her that he was enjoying her discomfort, and she knew with sudden clarity that this was his revenge on her for her rudeness of yesterday. Well, his satisfaction would be shortlived.

‘Mr Vittorio’s right, Daddy,’ she said with a smile, looking for some sign of surprise on the artist’s face and finding none. An expert at hiding his true feelings, was this man. That just made her all the more determined to thwart him. If he expected her to protest at his proposed plan he was going to be disappointed. ‘I can travel up to London at the weekends. I could stay at the apartment with Mummy,’ and so make it awkward for the couple to meet!

Her father looked undecided. ‘I suppose it is a solution. I must admit that when your mother first suggested this I didn’t realise I would have to lose my daughter’s company at the weekends too.’

‘Perhaps Mummy will come home and keep you company.’ Although she doubted it, she doubted it very much.

As if on cue her stepmother joined their little group, smiling her pleasure when told of the proposed portrait. She put her hand in the crook of Luke’s arm, smiling up at him, looking very petite against his superior height. ‘That’s marvellous, Luke,’ she said huskily. ‘It means we’ll see a little more of you.’

Not if Sophie could help it! Perhaps this was a good idea after all, perhaps this was a way to stop this affair before it became too important. ‘Not really, Mummy,’ she put in quietly. ‘It just means I’ll see more of Mr Vittorio.’

China-blue eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’ The seductive purr was gone from her voice.

‘I’ll be staying at the apartment and visiting Mr Vittorio at his home.’ The way she put it it sounded like an intimate arrangement.

A fact Luke Vittorio was quick to notice. ‘For professional reasons only,’ he said softly.

‘But of course,’ she glared at him. The remark hadn’t been meant for him.

‘Yes, of course,’ her stepmother echoed sharply. ‘And when is all this to start?’

‘I will call Sophie when I am free,’ Luke replied. ‘It will not be for a few weeks yet, I am engaged in other work at the moment.’

Sophie didn’t speak to him again until after dinner, but deliberately sought him out before he left. ‘I’ll look forward to seeing you again, Mr Vittorio,’ she said tauntingly.

‘I am sure you will,’ he returned mockingly.

‘Just tell me this, why did you agree to paint me?’ Her curiosity had got the better of her.

He raised a dark eyebrow as he slowly studied her from head to foot. ‘Why should I not? You will make an interesting study. There is a coolness outside belied by the heated passion inside. I will enjoy trying to capture this elusiveness of yours.’

Sophie’s face was fiery red by this time. ‘I’m sure you’re reading things into my character that simply aren’t there.’

‘I do not think so.’ He crossed one well-shod foot over the other.

They were seated together on one of the sofas, Sophie slightly unnerved by his closeness. He was clothed in a cream suit and brown shirt open at the neck to reveal the start of the thick mat of hair that she felt sure covered most of his body, and if anything he looked even more attractive than he had the previous evening. He would be leaving shortly which probably accounted for his less formal attire.

‘I do,’ she disagreed. ‘It isn’t’ heated passion you can detect, it’s burning anger.’

‘We shall see.’

‘We most certainly will not!’ She sat forward in her agitation.

Luke laughted softly. ‘How you delight in jumping to conclusions! You seem to do it often where I am concerned. One of these days you will realise how foolish your thoughts are concerning myself.’ He stood up. ‘But not yet. That will come with time.’

‘Time is something I don’t intend to give you too much of,’ she glared up at him.

‘You will give me all the time I want,’ he told her haughtily. ‘It could lead to some awkward questions from your father if you do not—and I am sure you would not want that. Would you?’

‘No, I wouldn’t, damn you! Is this portrait so important to you that you’ll go to these lengths?’ she demanded disgustedly.

He shrugged. ‘I will not know that until I actually begin. I look forward to seeing you again soon,’ he bowed arrogantly.

‘I’ll make sure it’s a memorable meeting!’

His teeth flashed whitely in his swarthy face. ‘I am sure you will.’

Sophie didn’t feel quite so confident as she travelled up to London for her first sitting four weeks later. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing him again, for all her bravado at their last meeting. As it had turned out she hadn’t been the one to talk to him on the telephone when he finally rang to arrange this sitting, she had been at Nicholas’s, having at last given in to his persuadings to visit his house for tea.

As she had expected, Mrs Sedgwick-Jones hadn’t stopped listing her son’s virtues all the time she was there, virtues that to Sophie seemed to make him even more unsuitable as a husband for her. She was disappointed therefore when she returned home to find Luke Vittorio had telephoned in her absence, disappointed because she would have enjoyed another of their verbal clashes.

But now she was going to London and would see him face to face, and she found the prospect a little daunting. Today she would be meeting him on his home ground, and she was very aware of the fact that she would be at a disadvantage. As a guest in her parents’ home he had not been as forthright as she suspected he could have been, but any rudeness from her here would not go unpunished.

But first she had to face her stepmother. The two of them had seen little of each other the last four weeks and Sophie could feel herself tensing for their meeting as she travelled in the taxi from the station.

As it turned out she needn’t have worried; Rosemary was out when she reached the apartment, and a solitary lunch was served to her by Bernard the butler. He was a silent individual, revealing only that her stepmother had gone shopping and was meeting friends for lunch. She hadn’t expected Rosemany to be overjoyed to see her, but she hadn’t expected her to be out altogether either.

She had no idea what she was supposed to wear for this painting; Luke Vittorio hadn’t said and she hadn’t thought to ask. Her stepmother could probably have advised her, but she hadn’t been very approachable lately, in fact she had rarely been home. Consequently Sophie had brought a couple of dresses with her, hoping to consult her stepmother when she reached London. She had travelled down in denims and a purple sun-top, having decided to have a refreshing shower before changing for her meeting with Luke Vittorio.

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