by Lynne Graham
‘I understand that she’s related to Lydia Powell.’
Intrigued, Cristiano gave instructions for the lady to be shown into his office. Minutes later, a small brunette wearing a belligerent expression arrived.
‘l’m Lydia’s cousin ‘ she announced.
Cristiano was amused. He strolled forward, introduced himself with unassailable cool, and suggested she sit down.
”What can 1 do for you’?’
Gwenna Powell ignored the seat set out for her and dug into her capacious satchel bag instead. From it she withdrew a document which she tossed down on his desk like a challenge. Cristiano did not need to lift it to identify it as a copy of the contract that both he and Lydia had signed.
‘Lydia asked me to check her post and open anything that seemed important. Imagine my horror when 1 discovered that she had been asked to sign that horrendous legal agreement! ‘
‘My relationship with Lydia is of a private nature.’
Cristiano was noting that, though there might be no physical likeness between the cousins, Lydia was also impulsive, spirited and quick-tempered. The melodic lilt of the brunette’s accent was equally familiar.
In censorious unimpressed silence, Gwenna Powell removed a photoframe from her bag and extended it to him.
His ebony brows drawing together, Cristiano accepted the item. He studied the faded snapshot in considerable surprise.
‘But this is an old photo of me…taken from a newspaper’?’
‘Yes, Mr Andreotti. You were Lydia’s idol long before of age when she framed that and you became her pin-up’ …
‘pin-up… ‘
Cristiano repeated huskily, surveying his own image while he absorbed this new and fabulously fascinating fact. He was attempting to imagine Lydia at that tender age, snipping his photograph out of a newspaper. She had been modelling by then, he recalled with a frown. She would have been very tall and skinny, and very beautiful, but still indisputably a child in his eyes. A whole new dimension had just been added to his knowledge of her. It was like being handed the key to a secret drawer that he couldn’t wait to open.
‘I want you to feel thoroughly ashamed of yourself,’ Gwenna informed him.
‘Lydia deserves a decent man, who respects her’
‘1 asked her to marry me and she wouldn’t have me,’ Cristiano admitted, taking the wind from his visitor’s sails in a spectacular feat of one-upmanship.
‘perhaps 1 failed to live up to that teenage fantasy.’
Gwenna Powell goggled at him.
Cristiano set the photo with the contract and carefully stowed both items away. His,
‘May 1 keep this’?’
was purely rhetorical. He offered tea and was equally politely refused. His diminutive visitor appeared to have taken fright at his mention of a proposal, and was eager to take her leave.
‘Will you tell Lydia that 1 came to see you’?’
she asked worriedly before she departed.
‘No,’ Cristiano asserted, without a second of hesitation.
When his PA came in with some figures that had been requested, he found Cristiano in a curiously abstracted mood. Thirty minutes later, his employer made several radiophone calls and announced that he was smashing early.
Impervious to the effect of such a declaration voiced by a male who routinely put in eighteen-hour days, Cristiano left the office.
A rather domineering young woman from a PR firm accompanied Lydia to the exclusive hotel chosen for the event. Her nerves were like jumping beans. Back at the apartment, she had agonised about what to wear before finally choosing a black and grey fitted jacket and pencil skirt that Cristiano had picked to meet the requirements of the ‘stuffy’ sections of his social life.
When she entered the function room, her companion took her straight over to the charitable team, and a rather uncomfortable conversation ensued in which everyone talked too much and smiled too often. The three models whom Lydia had persuaded to volunteer for the fashion show four months earlier arrived together. As all but one had made angry phone calls to her when the story of the cheques that had bounced first hit the newspapers, Lydia had once again to rise above her embarrassment.
‘l’m relieved that you got the mess sorted out,’ one of the girls remarked with a reproving sniff.
‘Yes, being associated with all those nasty rumours flying around didn’t do much for my image.’
‘l know. I’m really glad you could all be here today, and I’m sorry about all the fuss there’s been,’ Lydia said with genuine gratitude.
The third model was a staggeringly lovely Russian redhead called Helenka. Her sinuous curves and languorous appeal were showcased in a revealing short white dress. A rising superstar, with a firm sense of her superiority, Helenka flashed Lydia a scornful look.
”We’ve agreed that we don’t want to feature in any photos with you’.
Lydia reddened as if she had been slapped. The PR woman at her elbow waded in to protest that that was un-workable, and moved away several feet to employ her mo-bile phone. Members of the press were already arriving.
Lydia was uneasily aware that any sign of a rift between her and the other models would swiftly be seized on to make a better story.
In the midst of the discussion, Helenka vented an exclamation and pushed rudely past Lydia.
‘I see a friend… ‘ As a whisper of comment ran round the room like an electric current, Lydia began to turn her head.
‘lt’s Cristiano Andreotti… Oh, my word. Is he gorgeous? Or is he gorgeous’?’ one of the models gasped ecstatically.
A sense of relief surging through her tense body, Lydia spun round. He could only have come to support her. The tingle of awareness that his presence always caused danced through her nerve-endings like a wake-up call.
‘With that body and oodles and oodles of cash into the bargain…this close to a billionaire I feel faint! ‘ her friend proclaimed.
In the act of moving in Cristiano’s direction, Lydia froze. Helenka already had a confident hand on Cristiano’s arm and she was chattering to him with pointed familiarity. He glanced over at Lydia so briefly that she wasn’t quite sure it had really happened, and then he laughed at something the redhead said.
Lydia was directed to the front to pose with the dummy cheque while The Happy Holidays director said a few words.
All Lydia was conscious of was that Cristiano was smiling down at Helenka and having wine brought to her.
Lydia’s tummy churned, a lump forming in her tight throat. She knew the buzz of grabbing Cristiano’s full attention, and the Russian girl was flirting like mad with him. Lydia hovered, waiting for him to acknowledge her, but it didn’t happen. Press interest was now firmly focused on the couple. A few minutes later, Helenka strolled like a queen over to a gilded chaise longue and reclined there. Lydia and the other models were urged to join her for a group photo.
There were no objections to Lydia’s inclusion
because Helenka was much too busy directing sultry smiles at Cristiano. Afterwards, Helenka surged back to Cristiano’s side, and delighted in the cameras taking note of the fact.
Arnaldo approached Lydia.
‘ Powell? The car’s ready when you are.’
Lydia blinked.
‘Did your boss tell you to take me home’?’
For all his size, Arnaldo looked as if he very much wanted to run when faced with that awkward question.
‘Never mind…’ Mustering as much dignity as she could, Lydia would not let herself glance back in Cristiano’s direction.
They left the hotel by a discreet side entrance. Her legs were all wobbly. She felt sick, frightened, shocked beyond belief. Cristiano had ignored her as though she didn’t exist.
She would not have believed it had it not happened before her own eyes. He had acted as if she was of no more account to him than a stranger.
But evidently Helenka amused him, and he had chosen to be with the sultry Russian and send Ly
dia away. Was she supposed to accept that rejection with grace and indifference? Why did she feel so absolutely gutted that she couldn’t think straight? Shouldn’t she be rejoicing at the possibility that Cristiano might already be planning to replace her with a more exciting lover? After all, she would then get her freedom back. She would be able to return to her own life. But could a guy who had only asked her to marry him a day earlier cool off that fast? There had been nothing emotional about Cristiano’s proposal. He had, however, found her response offensive.
No doubt he had swiftly regretted the sense of honour and conscience that had prompted that proposal in the first place. Certainly, he had been very cold with her afterwards. He had kept his distance the previous night as well.
Helenka was stunning, and much more sophisticated.
Lydia’s eyes misted over with tears. What was the matter with her? The tears rolled down her cheeks. She felt. .felt … Gritting her teeth, she wiped her face with the back of her hand. It was only when she was fumbling through her bag in search of a tissue that she finally noticed that there was a package on the seat beside her.
The gift tag carried her name. She lifted the parcel and tore the paper off to expose a jewel case. It bore the gold logo of an internationally renowned jeweller. An incredibly starkly diamond bracelet nestled in a cushion of blue silk. Her mouth wobbled. She was being dumped, and she should be pleased. This was her freedom: the right to her own bed and diamonds into the bargain! The car door opened and she climbed out. Disorientated by the discovery that the driver had ferried her to an airfield, she stared at the second limo that was disgorging Cristiano only ten yards away. In bewilderment she froze to the spot and stared. He was so breathtakingly handsome that it almost hurt her to look at him.
‘You can keep that stupid bracelet! ‘
she screeched at him, without even knowing that she was going to say that. Cristiano studied her in polite astonishment.
”What’s the matter with you’?’
‘1 saw you with Helenka-‘ ‘Talking.’
”You were smiling, flirting-‘
‘And you were jealous,’
Cristiano slotted in, smooth as glass.
Her mouth opened and shut again. Fuming with rage at that accusation, she snatched in a ragged breath
blasted back at him, full volume.
‘l’ve never heard anything so ridiculous…1 was not jealousl’
A wicked smile that was pure provocation curved Cristiano’s wide sensual mouth. The silence simmered. He said nothing.
‘l was not jealousl’ Lydia launched back at him again.
‘You’re famous for being a womanizing rat, but (won’t put up with that kind of behaviour! I’m delighted that we’re breaking up! ‘
‘But we’re not breaking up, gioia mia. We’re flying down to Southampton to board Lestara. ‘
With no grasp whatsoever of what he was talking about, Lydia could not hide her confusion.
‘But 1 thought the bracelet in the car was a goodbye present…
‘ I’m not that tacky. When it’s over, 1‘11 tell you.’
She raised an uncertain hand to her pounding brow.
‘But you didn’t speak to me at the hotel. You let me leave the reception alone-‘
”The press can find out we’re together at some other occasion. 1 like my privacy. 1 didn’t want our relationship to overshadow the whole purpose of the photo session, which was to re-establish your reputation,’
Cristiano murmured, walking gracefully closer to her rigid figure.
‘The PR firm called to warn me that Helenka was playing up, so 1 set out to distract her-‘ Her lips felt clumsy as she parted them.
‘You distracted her… ‘
‘lt averted the attention of the press from you as well.
The journalists were more interested in the idea that 1 might have something going with Helenka than in asking you about your time in police custody,’ Cristiano pointed out.
‘lt also worked a treat with Helenka, who chose not to act the diva in my presence and submitted to the photos.’
Those ramifications were too much for Lydia to take in just then. The source of her deepest misgivings was still his manner towards the beautiful Russian model.
‘lt was obvious that you already knew Helenka very well! ‘
‘she did a series of television ads for a company of mine last year. Didn’t you know that’?’
She shook her head. She was out of touch with the modelling world and rarely watched television. She could not bring herself to ask if the acquaintance had been an intimate one. She swallowed with difficulty and said tightly,
‘She wants you…’
‘But 1 want you, care mia.’
That husky assurance set up a chain reaction through Lydia’s unbearably tense body. She was shaking, and her knees were threatening to fold beneath her. She wanted to cry. Even though that horrendous sense of humiliation had evaporated, she still wanted to cry. A storm of emotion had sent her out of control, and now she was struggling to accept that it had only been a simple misunderstanding.
He had not betrayed her or rejected her. He had not preferred Helenka. Their affair, so recently begun, was not yet over. Regardless, she had made a horrible jealous scene-and a total fool of herself. How could she be jealous of him? How could she possibly be possessive of a guy she professed to hate? But she had been jealous, bitterly jealous, when she’d seen him laughing and smiling with Helenka. It took great courage for her to make that inner admission, and in doing so she was confronted by a much worse fear. Had she been weak enough to fall in love with him again?
Cristiano curved steadying hands to her waist and gazed down at her strained face. He wondered why that stupid scene had not made him angry, for he had little tolerance for such displays in public places. His security team had retreated behind the limos in an effort to hide their amusement. But he could see that she was not aware of their surroundings or their audience. She was still very worked up.
He looked down at her, and suddenly he wanted her so badly that if there had been a hotel within reach he would have rushed her there. Disconcerted by an urge that lacked his trademark self-discipline, he tensed.
A sob was locked in Lydia’s throat. She met his smouldering dark golden eyes and it was like shock therapy, for all thought of tears vanished as though it had never been.
That devouring appraisal sent a frisson of helpless excitement rippling through her slight taut frame.
‘Our luggage should be on the helicopter by now. We should board,’ Cristiano murmured thickly, and even though he knew he should not he cupped the soft swell of her hips to bring her into closer contact with his long powerful thighs. It was an act of pure sexual provocation.
A tiny little whimper of sound, only loud enough to be heard by him, was wrested from her as she felt the hard hungry swell of his arousal against her tummy. She tilted forward into his big powerful frame, suddenly boneless with need. With a ragged laugh, he turned her round with sure confident hands and headed her in the direction of the waiting helicopter.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LYDIA was in a daze. Mercifully the racket of the helicopter rotors made speech impossible during the flight, and she sat back in her comfortable seat to recoup her energies.
She had no idea where Cristiano was taking her, and she didn’t much care either. Although she thought he had mentioned Southampton she wasn’t sure, and she believed she must have been mistaken-for, on reflection, it did not strike her as an exotic enough destination for Cristiano.
Whatever, she had lived on her nerves all day, and felt that she had more important things to worry about.
First and foremost, she refused to credit that she could be developing any form of emotional attachment to Cristiano Andreotti. Sex was the only hold he had on her, she told herself vehemently. It was shameful and disgusting, and it made her hate herself, but at least it wasn’t love.
Only an absolute dimwit would f
all for a man in such circumstances, and she was not one. Nor had she any plans to become one.
Cristiano set the jewel case she had abandoned in the limo on her lap.Lydia passed it back like a hot potato that might burn her fingers.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him flip up the lid and remove the bracelet. It lay across his lean brown |ngers like a white river of glittering |re. He caught her hand in his and attached the bracelet to her wrist. Angrily she turned her head. He was only inches from her, brilliant golden eyes challenging. Her breath caught in her throat.
He meshed his fingers into the silvery fair fall of her hair and took her soft pink mouth in a savagely intoxicating kiss that made the blood drum through her veins at an insane rate.
”Why are you so stubborn’?’ he demanded in stark reproof.
Lips tingling from that deeply sensual assault, Lydia turned away to gaze into space and sink deeper into her thoughts. If she didn’t tight his power over her at every opportunity, where would she be? His charismatic strength and assurance were traits that she found dangerously attractive and exciting. But that did not mean that total surrender was an option for her. On her wrist the bracelet glinted and gleamed like a mocking reminder of her exact boundaries.
As the helicopter settled down on a landing pad, Lydia surfaced from her reverie and unshipped her seat belt. She caught a glimpse of the view through the front windscreen.
Maybe Cristiano was coming here on business, she reflected, submitting to the necessity of letting him lift her out of the craft because he was too impatient to wait for steps. A vaguely familiar smell made her nostrils flare and she stiffened when she identified it. It was the salty fresh scent of the seaside, and her tummy immediately knotted into a little cramp of alarm.
Cristiano was guiding her towards an open door. But she was hesitating, seeking to identify her surroundings. Horror was nudging at the back of her mind and she was striving rigorously to control it. She was walking on a metal-surfaced floor, and several feet away were the polished railings that reminded her very much of a documentary about the wreck of the Titanic. She sucked in a rasping breath, yanked her hand free of his and moved towards the railings.