The Helen Bianchin And The Regency Scoundrels And Scandals Collections. Louise Allen
you prefer yours here, or in the lounge?’
‘The lounge.’
Damn, that meant she’d have to share it with him, yet if she opted out he’d only be amused, and she refused to give him the satisfaction.
Five minutes later she placed cups and saucers, sugar and milk on to a tray and carried it through to the informal lounge. Placing his within easy reach, she selected a chair several feet distant from where he was seated.
‘We’ve been invited out to dinner tomorrow evening,’ Stefano informed her with indolent ease as he spooned in sugar and stirred the thick black liquid in his cup. ‘Charles Winslow will be there with Kathy-Lee.’ His eyes seared hers, darkly analytical in a manner that raised all her fine body hairs in a gesture of self-defence.
‘And Georgeanne?’ She arched a brow in deliberate query. ‘I’m not sure I want to go.’ The thought of standing at his side for several hours playing a part didn’t figure very high in her order of preferred entertainment.
‘Most of the men present will have their wives or partners in attendance,’ he drawled, and she said sweetly,
‘Why not invite Angelica? I’m sure she’d delight in the opportunity. Then you could have two women vying for your attention.’
One eyebrow slanted in quizzical mockery, although anything approaching humour was sadly lacking in his expression. ‘I’ll ignore that remark.’
A crazy imp prompted her to query, ‘Good heavens, why? It’s nothing less than the truth.’
His expression didn’t alter. ‘Watch your unwary tongue, mi moglie,’ he cautioned in a deadly soft voice.
‘Don’t threaten me,’ she responded swiftly, feeling the deep-rooted anger begin to surge to the surface.
‘Warn,’ he amended with quiet emphasis.
‘There’s a difference?’
His eyes lanced hers, silent and deadly in their intent. ‘Give it up, Carly.’
‘And concede defeat?’
‘If you want to fight,’ Stefano drawled with dangerous silkiness, ‘I’m willing to oblige.’ He paused deliberately, then continued, ‘I doubt you’ll enjoy the consequences.’
A shaft of exquisite pain arrowed through her body, although defiance was responsible for the angry tilt of her chin as she berated, ‘I seem to remember you preferred your women warm and willing.’
‘What makes you think you won’t be, cara?’ Stefano drawled, his expression veiled as pain clouded her beautiful eyes, rendering her features hauntingly vulnerable for a few heart-stopping seconds before the mask slipped into place.
She was treading dangerous waters, yet she was too incensed to desist. ‘Did it never occur to you that my taste in men may have changed?’
‘Have there been that many?’ His voice sounded like finely tempered steel grazing satin, and she had the incredible desire to shock.
‘Oh—several.’
Something leapt in the depth of his eyes, and she wanted to cry out a denial, yet the words remained locked in her throat.
What on earth was the matter with her in taunting him? Playing any kind of game with a man of Stefano’s calibre was akin to prodding a sleeping jungle animal.
‘I had a life during the past seven years, Stefano,’ she flung, more angry than she’d care to admit. ‘Didn’t you?’
‘Do you really want to pursue this topic?’
‘Why?’
‘Because it will have only one ending,’ he warned with incredible silkiness, although his eyes were hard and obdurate, and there could be no doubt as to his meaning.
‘Go to hell,’ she whispered, hating him more at that precise moment than she’d thought it possible to hate anyone.
The need to get away from him was paramount, and, uncaring of his reaction, she turned and walked out of the room, out of the house, moving with a quick measured pace along the driveway to the electronically locked steel gates.
For the first time she damned Stefano’s security measures as logic and sanity temporarily vanished in the face of a fierce, unbating anger.
The house, the grounds, were like an impenetrable fortress, necessary in today’s age among the exceedingly wealthy in a bid to protect themselves, their family and their possessions.
She could return indoors, collect her keys and the necessary remote module to release the main gates, but even in anger sufficient common sense exerted itself to warn silently against walking the suburban streets alone after dark. And if she took her car, where would she go? It was too late for visiting, and Sarah, if she wasn’t working, would probably be out with James.
Carly turned back towards the house and slowly retraced her steps. The air was warm, with the faintest breeze teasing a few stray tendrils of her hair, and she lifted her face slightly, looking deep into the indigo sky with its nebulous moon and sprinkling of stars.
Drawing in a deep breath, she released it slowly. A strange restlessness besieged her, and she felt the need for some form of exercise to help expel her pent-up emotions.
There was a pool in the rear of the grounds, and she instinctively took the path that skirted the southern side of the house.
Reflected light from several electric lamps strategically placed in the adjacent rockery garden lent the pool a shimmering translucence, and, without giving too much thought to her actions, Carly stripped off her outer clothes and executed a neat dive into the pool’s clear depths. Within seconds she was cleaving clean strokes through the cool water, silently counting as she completed each length. After twenty-five she rested for a few minutes, clearing the excess water from her face, her hair.
‘Had enough?’
Carly lifted her head and looked at the tall figure standing close to the pool’s edge. In the subdued light he loomed large, his height and breadth magnified by reflected shadows.
‘Is there some reason why I shouldn’t take advantage of the pool?’
‘None whatsoever,’ Stefano declared mockingly. ‘Shall I help you out?’ At his drawled query she raised a hand, then when he grasped it she tugged hard, experiencing a thrill of exultation as he lost his balance and was unable to prevent a headlong fall into the water.
Fear of retaliation lent wings to her limbs as she levered herself up on to the pool’s edge, then, scooping up her clothes, she sped quickly into the house.
A faint bubble of laughter emerged from her throat as she entered the bedroom. She’d have given almost anything to glimpse the expression on his face!
Moving straight through to the adjoining bathroom, she turned on the shower, discarded her briefs and bra, then stepped beneath the warm, pulsing water.
Selecting shampoo, she massaged it through the length of her hair, then rinsed it off before reaching for the soap—and encountered a strong male hand.
‘Is this what you’re looking for?’
She went still with shock as fear unfurled in the region of her stomach. Slowly she pushed back the wet length of her hair, and a silent gasp parted her lips at the sight of him standing within touching distance, every last vestige of clothing removed from his powerful frame.
‘Ready to cry wolf, Carly?’
No sooner had the soft taunt left his lips than she felt the soap sweep in a tantalisingly slow arc from the tip of her shoulder to the curve at her waist. She had to get out now. She tried, except that one hand closed over her arm, holding her still, while the other curved round her shoulder, and she was powerless to resist as he turned her round to face him.