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The Innocent's Sinful Craving
The Innocent's Sinful Craving

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The Innocent's Sinful Craving

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‘Eddie has to go back to work now,’ Nicola said when they joined Dana in the spacious living room after their second, private tour of inspection. ‘So why don’t we find a bar and have a double celebration?’

‘Double?’

‘Of course.’ Nicola’s wide grin was just the same. ‘Finding our future home and you, again, at the same time.’

‘Two wonderful reasons,’ Dana laughed back. ‘Let’s go.’

‘So what happened to you?’ Nicola asked as they toasted each other in Prosecco in a local wine bar. ‘Why did you suddenly disappear like that—before your final year at school?’

You mean that Zac Belisandro didn’t tell you...

Aloud, she said lightly, ‘It wasn’t really that sudden. I’d already decided against university, so when that London job came up again, I took it.’

‘But you went without a word.’ There was hurt in Nicola’s voice. ‘And you never answered any of my letters although your aunt promised she’d send them on.’

Except her first loyalty was to Serafina, not her own disgraced, illegitimate niece, exiled before she caused more trouble.

Dana swallowed. ‘Well, I did move around quite a bit. The letters are probably still in the system, trying to track me down.’

‘Well, I shan’t let you slip away again,’ Nicola said resolutely. ‘We’re having a family get-together down at Mannion the weekend after next to talk wedding plans and you’re going to be there. And I won’t take no for an answer.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ Dana said with perfect truth, her mind reeling.

‘It will be just like old times,’ Nicola went on. ‘Jo and Emily are going to be there, as they’re my bridesmaids, and they’re bringing their blokes.’ She paused. ‘So, if you’ve got someone in your life, invite him along.’

Dana took another mouthful of Prosecco. ‘There’s no one serious. Not at the moment.’

But that would all change—down at Mannion.

Nicola sighed. ‘You sound like Adam. As soon as I get to like one of his girlfriends, he’s on to the next.’ She pulled a face. ‘And Zac, the serial monogamist, sets him a bad example.’

‘I can imagine.’ Dana’s mouth felt suddenly stiff. ‘Maybe Adam just hasn’t met the right woman yet.’ Or not at the right time.

Afterwards, she’d been assailed by doubts, telling herself that it couldn’t possibly be that simple, half expecting a call from Nicola telling her that the weekend had been cancelled or making some other excuse.

Instead she’d had a call from Eddie offering the full asking price on the flat, and when Nicola phoned a few days later, it was to confirm the invitation and say how much everyone was looking forward to seeing her again.

Including Adam? wondered Dana, but did not dare ask.

Although she would soon find out, she thought now, glancing at her watch. It was time to stop skulking in the grounds and begin her campaign.

She was halfway across the lawn when she realised she was being watched. That a man was standing, silent and unmoving, at the head of the terrace steps.

For one jubilant instant, she thought, Adam...

Then her footsteps faltered as she realised her observer was much too tall to be Adam. And much too dark.

Dark as midnight. Dark as a bad dream.

Only she wasn’t dreaming. Not this time. She was looking at Zac Belisandro—not on the other side of the world but, by some ill chance, right here.

Waiting for her.

CHAPTER TWO

NO!

The word was in her throat like a silent scream. Because it couldn’t be true. Yet the wild, unruly thud of her terrified heart told her there was no room for doubt.

She couldn’t run. There was nowhere to go and, anyway, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of putting her to flight.

But he wouldn’t be able to get rid of her this time. Serafina was no longer around to sit in judgement on a young girl who’d offended her code of conduct.

This time, she was Nicola’s guest. One of the gang. And Nicola would laugh to scorn any attempt to discredit her.

‘Come off it, Zac.’ Dana could hear her now. ‘She can’t be the first girl who’s come on to you and the others have all been old enough to know better. Besides, it was a long time ago.’

A long time ago, she repeated silently. So why did it feel as if it were only yesterday?

And what if he replied, ‘But it wasn’t me she wanted. Not then. Not now. It’s Adam—and this house.’

He could blow her plans clean out of the water with one sneering remark. Could—and probably would.

Her legs were shaking, but she dragged every rag of calm she possessed around her, to get her safely up the steps.

But not past him...

He was standing, hands on hips, his face a mask, his eyes raking her from head to foot, as he said softly, ‘So you have come back. I thought you would have more sense.’

Dana met his gaze, hard as obsidian. ‘I accepted an invitation from an old friend, nothing more.’ She lifted her chin. ‘And how are things with you, Mr Belisandro? Still devouring the world?’

‘In small bites, Miss Grantham.’ His voice was a drawl, his tone tinged with ice. ‘And never more than I can comfortably chew. A policy I recommend to you, signorina.

The close-fitting charcoal pants he wore had the sheen of silk, while the matching shirt was negligently unbuttoned revealing more of the muscular bronze of his chest than she’d any wish to see.

It made her feel uneasy—almost restless, and she shrugged, fighting to regain some equilibrium. ‘That depends, I suppose, on the size of one’s appetite.’

‘And yours, if memory serves, borders on the voracious. If you wish to discuss mine, I suggest we choose somewhere more private. The summer house, perhaps.’

He watched the swift flare of colour in her face and nodded, smiling a little. ‘So this new sophistication is only skin-deep after all. But how fascinating. And what temptation.’

‘I’d say—what arrogance, Mr Belisandro.’ Her hands curled into fists at her sides. ‘You clearly haven’t changed at all.’

It wasn’t true. He’d matured, wearing his thirty-two years with toned grace. He’d always been attractive. Even she had to admit that. But now he was—spectacular. And, as such, formidable.

‘I have never found a reason to do so,’ he said. ‘Although I may have become a little more compassionate than I was seven years ago, so let me offer you some advice.’

He took a step towards her and it needed every scrap of self-command she possessed not to back away.

He went on quietly, ‘Recall some pressing engagement and return to London. Meet Nicola for lunch occasionally, if both of you so wish. But hope for nothing more. That way you may remain unscathed.’

He paused. ‘Continue on your present path, and you will regret it.’

Her throat tightened but she managed a little laugh. ‘How very melodramatic. Is this how you threaten your business competitors?’

‘I rarely find it necessary. They listen to reason. I suggest you do the same.’

‘Thank you.’ Dana drew a deep breath. ‘Please believe that if ever I need your advice, I’ll ask for it. In the meantime, I plan to enjoy a pleasant weekend in these beautiful—and desirable—urroundings. I hope you do the same.’

‘If you’re looking for Adam,’ he said as she turned towards the French windows. ‘He has not yet arrived. He is driving down with his latest girl, Robina Simmons, whose lack of punctuality is legendary, so they have probably quarrelled.’ He smiled. ‘Let us hope the disagreement will not last.’

‘Unlike ours,’ Dana threw over her shoulder. ‘Which I’m sure will run and run.’

Not much of a last word, she thought shakily, but better than nothing.

The drawing room was empty so she was able to escape to her room without another unwanted confrontation to add to the inner turmoil, already threatening to tear her apart.

Zac Belisandro—here, she thought as she sank down on the edge of the bed. How was it possible? And why hadn’t Nicola warned her?

Because she had no reason to do so, she answered her own question. To Nicola, Zac was simply Serafina’s billionaire cousin and Adam’s friend. Someone she’d known and trusted for most of her life.

Whereas to me, she thought bitterly, he’s the man who’s already tried to ruin my life once, and who hasn’t finished yet. He’s made that more than clear.

Just as he’d relished telling her that Adam wasn’t arriving alone, although she wouldn’t let herself worry too much about that. According to his sister he had a rapid turnover in girlfriends—and if they were already quarrelling...

“Adam wanted me once,” she whispered to herself. “I have to make him remember that—and want me again, even more. To the point of desperation, no less. Because only he can give me Mannion, and I’ll settle for nothing less.”

Not that he would have any reason to feel short-changed. She would make him a good wife—the best—and be the perfect hostess in a house she would restore to its former glory.

Even Zac Belisandro would have to admit as much...

She paused right there, shocked at herself, her heart skipping a nervous beat.

Because what did his opinion matter—or his empty threats? His presence here was temporary. His work—his life—belonged thousands of miles away and soon he would be returning there to resume both of them.

While she would still be here. So why was she letting him get to her—invading her consciousness even marginally?

She drew a deep, steadying breath.

She’d waited so long for this day when she’d finally return to Mannion that it was hardly surprising she found herself on edge, making mountains out of what would prove to be molehills.

What she needed now was to relax—and regroup.

A warm bath would be good, followed by a brief nap before she dressed for dinner.

Tonight’s outfit had been chosen with care, because she needed to make it count. It was a simply cut dress in a silky and striking fabric the colour of amber, which added lustre to her skin, while the low square neck, revealing the first creamy swell of her breasts and the brief flare of the skirt was gently but enticingly provocative.

She had amber drops set in gold for her ears—a present to herself bought from her first bonus at Jarvis Stratton, to mark the moment when she’d thought of herself as having a career instead of just a job. When she’d started to believe in herself again, and feel a growing conviction that she would succeed where her mother had failed.

When conviction had become stony determination.

Not that marrying Adam would impose any kind of hardship, she mused, as she made her way to the bathroom. On the contrary, it could be an additional perk.

As she lay in the scented water, she looked down at her body, examining it as if it belonged to a stranger. Trying to judge it through a stranger’s eyes. A man’s eyes.

Wondering what Adam would think the first time he saw her naked. When she allowed that to happen.

Asking herself too if he would be glad to find her still innocent and know that she had kept herself for him.

It was a decision that had caused problems with the men she’d dated during the past seven years. A few had been bewildered, some hurt and most of them angry when they discovered that her ‘no’ meant exactly that. ‘Commitment-phobe’ had been one accusation. ‘Frigid’ had been another.

But Adam would have no reason to say that, she told herself as she stepped out of the bath, reaching for a towel.

She smoothed body lotion in her favourite scent into her skin, aware how close to her a man, intrigued by its subtle fragrance, would need to be in order to appreciate it fully.

And she intended Adam to get pretty damned close, no matter how many girlfriends he might have in tow. Because she would be the one who would count.

She was back in her room applying a final coat of mascara to her lashes when Nicola came knocking at the door.

She looked around her, pulling a face. ‘Dana, I’m so sorry about this. When Zac announced he’d be joining us, Aunt Mimi had a panic attack and gave him the room I’d picked for you. And we’re pretty full up, so I can’t really move you.’

‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’ Dana returned her cosmetics to their purse. She kept her voice casual. ‘So you weren’t expecting him?’

‘Well, eventually, just not this weekend. But his father was having heart surgery which got rescheduled, and he flew back early to be around for the operation.’ She smiled. ‘Apparently it was a great success. He must be so relieved.’

I didn’t see many signs of rejoicing, thought Dana, examining her flawless nails.

‘And he didn’t feel obliged to rush back and make sure Belisandro Australasia hadn’t collapsed in his absence?’ she queried drily.

‘Oh, he’s not going back to Melbourne,’ said Nicola with appalling cheerfulness. ‘From now on he’ll be based in Europe, waiting to take over as chairman of the whole shebang when his father retires, which might be quite soon. And he’ll be working from London, so we’ll see much more of him.’

For a moment Dana felt the room sway about her. ‘I see,’ she managed.

She swallowed. ‘How—how did the visit to the church go?’

‘Brilliantly. The country wedding is definitely on, although I don’t know what Dad will say.’

Dana’s brows lifted. ‘He’s coming, then, to give you away?’

Nicola sighed. ‘Yes, and bringing the ghastly Sadie with him unfortunately.’

Diverted momentarily from her own troubles, Dana gave her a sympathetic look. That first sailing holiday had turned life upside down for Adam and Nicola. Francis Latimer had decided he’d found his true metier, and to the shock of the entire family, he’d thrown up his safe city job and bought a struggling sailing and diving venture in the Greek islands, which by sheer hard work and force of will, he’d turned into a roaring success.

Along the way, he’d met Sadie, an Australian working for one of the large tour companies supplying him with excursion business, and a summer fling had continued throughout the winter and thereafter.

Sadie was loud, determinedly jolly and convinced she would soon have her Frankie’s children eating out of her hand. When it didn’t happen, she became increasingly resentful and family holidays turned into a hostile nightmare.

Which was how Nicola, and Adam too, had come to pass the greater part of their school vacations at Mannion, while their father spent his winters in Queensland, running a boat chartering business with Sadie’s brother Craig.

‘Well, at least you’re seeing him again.’ Dana tried to sound consoling. ‘Have you heard from your mother?’

‘An occasional letter telling us she’s happy and staying where she is. How about you?’

Dana forced a shrug. ‘Much the same, although the information filters through from Aunt Joss.’

Apparently Linda found her daughter too strong a reminder of everything that had gone wrong in her life for direct contact, and Dana had been advised to accept that and let her find her own way back. If she ever did.

But if I can offer her Mannion, she thought, then maybe I’ll discover the mother I’ve never really known. The one with hopes and dreams who existed before Jack Latimer was killed. Not the woman disowned by his mother and left out on a limb to grieve with no way back, but the smiling, pretty girl who’d helped run the Royal Oak because the landlord’s wife drank.

‘Life and soul of the place, she was,’ Betty Wilfrey, the Royal Oak’s cook had once told her. ‘Reception, bar work, chambermaiding, she could turn her hand to anything. It was never the same after she left. No wonder Bob Harvey sold up and went too before a year passed.’

And now all too many years had gone by, thought Dana. Her throat tightening, she got to her feet. ‘Should we go down?’

‘I guess so. Dinner’s running slightly late because Adam’s only just arrived, in a bit of a strop and without Robina, because they’ve had a fight,’ said Nicola, adding with a touch of grimness, ‘I’ve had to remind him that this is my weekend, not his.’

Dana bit her lip. ‘Perhaps he’s upset because he really does care for her,’ she suggested reluctantly.

‘Adam cares for getting his own way,’ Nicola said shortly as they left the room.

* * *

Pre-dinner drinks turned out to be champagne on the terrace, poured, Dana saw, by Zac Belisandro, immaculate in a dark grey suit with a silk tie the colour of rubies.

As Dana accepted her flute with a murmur of thanks, she was acutely aware of his gaze slowly examining her, lingering on the roundness of her breasts.

His unashamed scrutiny revived memories she wanted very badly to forget, and she was glad to obey Nicola’s summons and greet her former schoolmates Joanna and Emily, with their respective fiancés.

Then Eddie was commandeering her to meet his parents, a handsome grey-haired couple, radiating contentment about their son’s engagement and openly—sweetly—about each other.

They were also with patient goodwill listening to Mimi Latimer bewailing Robina’s no-show and its detrimental effect on the placement at dinner.

‘It can hardly matter,’ Mrs Marchwood said soothingly. ‘Not at a family dinner when we’re all friends.’

Miss Latimer acquiesced reluctantly, but the look she sent Dana told a very different story.

But what did that matter when Adam had just appeared on the terrace, smiling and relaxed in a cream linen suit and an open-necked shirt as blue as his eyes, any earlier bad humour apparently forgotten or put on hold?

He saw Dana and stopped short, his eyes widening.

‘My God, I don’t believe it.’ He turned to his sister. ‘Nic, you little devil, so this is the surprise you promised me.’

He crossed to Dana, taking both her hands in a graceful gesture and laughing down into her face.

‘Where on earth did you spring from—after all this time? How long is it, exactly?’

She could have told him to the day, the hour, the minute, but was saved from temptation by Mimi Latimer.

‘She’s been selling overpriced flats in London, one of them to Nicola and Edward, it seems. I hope they have a survey done.’

‘A full one—before they made their offer,’ Dana said crisply. ‘Hello, Adam. It’s good to see you.’

‘So, you’re a career girl.’ Adam shook his head. ‘I often wondered what had become of you.’

Then why didn’t you try to find me...?

But she didn’t ask the question aloud. Instead she smiled back at him, keeping her tone casual. ‘Oh, I’ve never been that far away. And I can’t tell you how it feels to be here again—with all these memories.’

‘More champagne?’ said Zac Belisandro blandly, appearing beside them as silently as a dark ghost and refilling the glass she’d put down on a table. ‘To celebrate this joyous reunion.’

Hoping I’ll drink too much and make a fool of myself, no doubt, she thought as she gently removed her hands from Adam’s clasp. But it’s not going to happen, because this top-up is going to be poured away as soon as Zac’s back is turned.

Except, that never seemed to happen. He wasn’t actually following her. He was just—never very far away.

But then, when had he ever been?

But this weekend she would deal with it. She might not be able to distance herself physically, or not until she was the mistress of the house and could control the guest list, but she could and should excise him mentally once and for all.

Put the events of seven years ago in a box, close it securely, then let it drop from thirty thousand feet into the Mariana Trench or some other abyss. Wasn’t that what the therapists recommended?

It might not have worked for my mother, she thought bitterly, but I’ll damned well make it work for me.

She took judicious sips of champagne during the chilled cucumber soup and the poached fillets of sole, accepting half a glass of claret to accompany the beautifully roasted ribs of beef.

She’d been seated between Greg and Chris, the bridesmaids’ fiancés, well away from Adam who occupied the head of the table, but perfectly placed to hear the chunterings of Miss Latimer, stationed at its foot.

‘Such a shame dear Robina can’t be with us,’ she declared fretfully during a lull in the general conversation, adding, to Adam’s obvious displeasure, ‘I know lateness can be trying, but I understand even the dear Queen Mother was habitually unpunctual in her younger days.’

Dana felt a bubble of laughter welling up inside her. At the same moment, she realised that Zac was looking at her from the other side of the table, his dark eyes brilliant, alight with shared and quite unholy amusement and found her gaze locked with his.

Like being mesmerised, she thought, and a shiver ran through her.

Shocked, she bit her lip hard to break the spell, forcing herself to look down at her plate, knowing as she did so that her remaining appetite had deserted her.

Knowing too that she couldn’t permit any kind of connection between them however trivial, however fleeting. Could not afford the slightest threat to her plans.

Chris was speaking to her and she turned to him in relief. ‘This is the most amazing house. It’s actually got a billiard room. When I went in, I expected to find Professor Plum with the candlestick.’ He paused. ‘I understand you and Nic grew up here together?’

‘Hardly,’ Miss Latimer put in tartly. ‘Dana’s aunt was the housekeeper here.’

‘She certainly was.’ Dana made herself speak lightly. ‘And I believe this is her version of lemon syllabub that we’re eating now. She must have left the recipe for her successor.’

‘There’ve been several of those.’ Mimi Latimer again. ‘It’s almost impossible to get reliable help these days. People simply don’t know their place any more.’

‘I think they do,’ Dana returned quietly. ‘Only these days they tend to choose their own.’

‘Adam was saying there used to be an Orangery,’ Greg put in quickly as Mimi bridled. ‘Only he’s turned it into a swimming pool.’

The Orangery gone, Dana thought, startled. But it had been Serafina’s pride and joy. Did she know what Adam intended when she handed over the house? If so, how could she have let it happen?

If I hadn’t been sent away—if I’d stayed here with Adam, I wouldn’t have let him do it, she thought. I’d have talked him out of it somehow.

‘Some Orangery,’ Adam said, taking another helping of syllabub. ‘I never remember a single orange, so I decided a pool would be more useful—and more fun.’

Practical, thought Dana. But depressing. And if something had to go, I wish you’d chosen the summer house.

She shivered again and Chris noticed.

‘Feeling cold?’ he asked, surprised.

‘No, just a slight headache,’ she improvised hastily. ‘Maybe there’s a summer storm on the way.’

And saw in a flash, like the lightning she’d just invented, the sardonic twist of Zac’s lips. Telling her the storm was already here—and waiting for her.

CHAPTER THREE

AFTER DINNER, THE PARTY split up, the men going off to the billiard room for a knock-out snooker tournament, and the women congregating in the drawing room for coffee and wedding chat.

Dana had already resigned herself to the knowledge that there’d be no opportunity for a private conversation with Adam. Certainly not while Zac was hovering at his shoulder.

But she was annoyed to discover that her fib about a headache was coming true. That will teach me a lesson, she thought, as she made her excuses and took herself off to bed.

Even with the window open, the small room was stifling, and even lying naked under a single sheet, she felt as if she was suffocating. And her headache was getting worse.

Stress, she thought, searching vainly for a cool spot on the pillow. Tension. That’s all it is. And I know exactly who to blame for it.

She swallowed a couple of the ibuprofen she’d found in the bathroom cupboard, and eventually fell into a restless doze only to be woken again by a fierce rumble of thunder directly overhead, accompanied by a waft of cold, damp air and the splash of rain.

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