"Explain what?" he cut in harshly.
"That you don't want to marry me."
"I am not averse to the idea."
"Well, I am!" she said indignantly. "You aren't my idea of a husband. You—you're totally immoral—have women by the dozen."
"Hardly the dozen, Sophie," he mocked. "And what else do you suggest we do? The last time I was here you told me I was never to hurt your father. I am endeavoring not to do so. I could have told him the truth, but I think by doing do I would have been ridiculing a man I respect and admire. He perhaps allows his wife too much freedom, but—"
"And that's another thing," she said heatedly. "My stepmother came to your room tonight—would I be expected to take second place to her if I were your…your wife?'' The word seemed to stick in her throat.
"There would be no other women unless you forced me Jnto their arms,'' he answered coldly.
"What do you mean?"
"If I am kept satisfied in my own bed, I will not seek out the pleasure to be found in others,” he told her calmly. “A
man rarely strays if he is finding fulfillment with his own wife." .
Sophie gulped. ^'You mean you would expect me—that we would—"
"We would share a bed as well as a home," he replied. "I could not live in such close proximity with a woman and not want her, and although we are not in love, we do desire each other."
"And how long would I have to stay married to you?" She didn't attempt to deny the desire—she would only be fooling herself if she did. She certainly wouldn't fool Luke!
"My religion does not allow for divorce.''
"You mean—you mean it would be forever?"
His mouth turned back. "We could perhaps lead separate lives if our desire ever becomes satiated. Do you doubt that I want you?"
One glance at the painting was enough to show her he did. It had been painted through the eyes of a man aroused and wanting. It made her blush to think of him experiencing such desire on her account. "No," she finally said huskily.
"Tell me, how did your experiment with Nicholas go this afternoon?"
Her mouth tightened at his mockery. "Exactly as you said it would," she admitted crossly.
"Englishmen do not have enough fire for you, Sophie," Luke said seriously. "We Italians do not spend our lives wondering about , we clasp it with both hands, even if we get burned occasionally."
She didn't need to be told of his prowess as lover—she already knew it. "And what happens when the flame goes out?"
He raised dark eyebrows. "I do not envisage that happening between us."
"But if it does?" she persisted.
"Come here," he ordered throatily, pulling her roughly against the hard contours of his body. He slowly bent his head to tease her lips apart with the sensuous tip of his tongue, the open warmth of his mouth engulfing her as he had engulfed her once before, making her feel as one with him already.
She was breathless when he at last released her, looking very much as she did in the painting, she felt sure— completely wanton, in fact. "Luke…Luke?” she questioned huskily. "Is that really your name?" It didn't sound very Italian to her.
He nibbled her earlobe, feeling the shiver of pleasure that ran through her body. "Luciano," he supplied, looking down at her with teasing eyes. "You expected it to be Lucifer, perhaps?"
Sophie blushed. "No, I—"
He gave a throaty laugh, putting her way from him and tying his robe more securely around his waist. "I am well aware of your antagonism to me on anything but a physical level, but it does not bother me."
"Meaning you only want my body," she snapped, stung by his attitude.
"I do not need to marry you to get that." His face was a shuttered mask. "We are marrying because after tonight your father expects it. The fact that we are not averse to each other is—"
“An added bonus,'' she sneered.
"I was not about to say that." His voice became more accented in his anger. "Oh, go to bed, Sophie. We can talk in the morning when you are feeling more reasonable."
"There doesn't seem to be a lot left to say." All the fight had gone out of her. "I can't hurt my father and the truth would do that."
"I am glad you can see that."
"Oh, I can see it, but whatever there was between you arid my stepmother stops right now,'' she added fiercely.
“Whatever there was has already stopped," he said haughtily.
''And that…that painting, I don't want to see it again."
"I do not think you are in a position to make conditions," Luke said coolly. "Although if it pleases you, I will humor you in this one thing. But do not issue orders to me again, Sophie. You will find I react better to…persuasion."
"Are you threatening me? Please me or I tell your father the truth?"
He looked at her coldly. "I have no doubts about your pleasing me, you cannot help yourself. I was merely pointing out that you are not doing me any favors by becoming my wife, rather it is the other way around."
He had her beaten and she knew it. "I'll try never to forget it," she said sarcastically before slamming out of the room.
This was disastrous. She had followed her stepmother in all innocence and now found herself in a position where she was having to marry a man she barely knew, a man with plenty of sexual magnetism, but no heart.
She slept fitfully, waking early to dress and go for a walk to try and clear her head. She loved the countryside around here and would miss it when she and Luke were married and living in London. She hunched over in her depression, resigned to her fate, but not welcoming it.
Life with Luke wasn't going to be easy, especially as she was weak toward him physically, but she could see no other solution to their problem. If her father knew what had really happened last night he would be hurt beyond healing. This way he was still hurt, but it was a hurt he would get over in time. Besides, there was the damning evidence of that painting.
She looked up as a horse and rider galloped across the field toward her, the rider known to her. Nicholas! She didn't know how she was going to face him after the exhibition she made of herself yesterday. '
He seemed to feel no embarrassment, jumping down from the horse's back to walk beside her. "You're up early," he smiled.
"I couldn't sleep," she mumbled, her hands in the wide pockets of her navy blue skirt, the light blue blouse she wore complementing it perfectly. "And it's such a lovely morning." She had noticed that much even in her despair.
"I was going to call you last night," his voice lowered intimately; "But then I thought it would be better to come and see you today. "I—I let you down yesterday and I want to explain."
"Don't let's talk about it," she interrupted hurriedly. "I don't know why I acted like that with you."
"But we have to talk about it. I want to marry you, Sophie."
"No!" she denied sharply.
He didn't seem to notice her shudder as he put his arm around her shoulders. "But I do. I've always wanted to marry you, you know that."
"You don't understand, Nicholas. I—"
"What Sophie is trying to say," cut in a coldly angry voice"—and not doing a very-good job of it, I might add, is that she could not even contemplate marrying you when she has already consented to be my wife."
Sophie looked at Luke with resignation. It was almost as if she had known he would interrupt them at this time, almost as if he had already taken over her life.
Nicholas looked astounded, his arm dropping away from her shoulders. "You have to be kidding," he said uncertainly.
Luke came to stand, beside Sophie. "Marriage is not something I would joke about. It is not a subject I find remotely amusing."
Especially as the situation had been forced on them both. She could understand Luke's anger.
Nicholas looked bewildered. "But the two of you can't be getting married. Why, only yesterday—"
She felt herself pulled against the hard contours of Luke's body, his arm across her back, his hand re
sting possessively just below her breast. "Sophie was fighting the inevitable yesterday," he told the younger man. "We had argued and she hit out at me by running to you."
"Oh." Nicholas was red with embarrassment. "But this is all rather sudden, isn't it?"
"It sometimes happens like that," Luke replied stiffly, and Sophie could feel the anger in his taut body. "Your mother and father art expecting us back for breakfast," he informed her, still in that stilted voice.
"Oh, yes," Nicholas realized he had been dismissed and remounted his horse. "I should be getting back myself."
"Oh, but—"
"Let him go, Sophie!" Luke said grimly.
She glanced up again and again to his dark forbidding face as they walked back to the house. His arm had fallen away from her waist as soon as they were out of sight of Nicholas, his mouth a thin angry lirie.
"You will never do that again," he finally snapped, his eyes hard with anger.
She gave him a nervous look. "Do what again?"
"Arrange to meet another man," he bit out forcefully. "I will not permit it. If I have to prove to you once again that you are mine, then I will do so here and now," He held her against the hardness of his body, uncaring that he was bruising her soft flesh. His mouth clamped down on hers with one thought in mind—to punish her. His face was triumphant as he looked down at her, conscious of her response to him even in his anger. "You are mine," he told her arrogantly.
"I don't belong to anyone." She fought to regain some of her old defiance.
His mouth twisted, with cruel humor, openly taunting her. "You will belong to me."
"But I don't at the moment." She pushed against his chest to release herself, able to breathe easier when she was apart from the seduction of his body.
"That does not mean you can arrange to meet another man as soon as my back is turned. I would take you now if I thought your rebellious nature would drive you into giving yourself to another before we are married."
"You're an arrogant swine! I did not arrange to meet Nicholas—we met quite by accident. And how do you know I haven't already taken a lover? You said yourself that I enjoyed the pleasure I can get from my body."
" But it will be pleasure only I give you."
"Are you sure?" she taunted.
One of his hands spanned the slender width of her wrist, making her gasp with pain. "Have you ever had a lover?"
He seemed more foreign in his anger, and he frightened her a little. He usually treated her with amused tolerance, letting her taunts wash over him, but his attitude had changed to one of possession, of ownership.
"You're hurting me, Luke," she cried, trying without success to remove his hands.
"Did you not know that pain can sometimes be as pleasurable as making love?" he scorned.
She bit her bottom lip to stop from crying out. "Not this sort of pain. Please, Luke, let me go!"
"Ah—please." His grip relaxed slightly. "You plead very prettily. Have you taken a lover, Sophie?" he repeated abruptly. "And I want the truth. I will know soon enough, anyway," he said with taunting anticipation.
She colored at his implication, shaking off his hand completely. "Then it will give you something to think about." She walked off toward the house, the short distance suddenly seeming much longer as she tried not to break into a run.
Luke swung her around. "You will answer me!"
Her eyes flashed deeply violet. "Why should I?" she challenged.
“Will you come to me a virgin? " he demanded.
"Will you?"
"Do not be ridiculous!"
"Oh, I see," she scorned. "It's all right for you to have been with other women, but I'm not allowed the same privilege as far as other men are concerned."
"That was not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean? That your experience was necessary? That you had to be the lover of all those women?"
"There have not been as many as the press reported," his mouth twisted as he answered her.
"If only half the stories were true, you've had enough to form a harem!"
He scowled. "I am thirty-eight and I have" a normal appetite for sex, nothing more."
"But I'm not allowed the same appetite?"
"Not before marriage."
Sophie shook her head. "The way you and men like you go through the female population, you're expecting a lot to expect to marry a virgin."
"But I will be, will I not?" his taunting humor was back.
She flicked her hair back with childish defiance. "Wait and seel"
This time he didn't attempt to stop her, the- sound of his throaty chuckle following her. Her parents were already in the dining room when she entered through the open patio doors. She avoided the sharp angry glance of her stepmother, going over to kiss her father on the cheek.
"Good morning, poppet," he said gruffly. "Luke," he nodded to the younger man.
Sophie turned to see Luke standing behind her. She hadn't realized he had followed her into the house.
"Simon, Rosemary." He held a chair back for Sophie to sit down.' 'We were out for an early morning stroll."
Sophie's lips clamped together. He was giving them the impression that they had arranged to go out together. He was adept at turning circumstances to his advantage, something she would have to remember in future.
"Coffee?" her stepmother asked him sharply.
"Thank you," he nodded acceptance. "Sophie and I have been discussing the wedding," he said to her father.
Rosemary almost dropped the coffee pot and she was shaking but, whether with anger or some other emotion, Sophie couldn't tell. "Surely it's a bit soon to be discussing that. There's no hurry, is there?" she asked shrilly.
Sophie .didn't think there was, either. The longer she delayed being his wife the better. When he had free license with her body she would become his slave in bed whenever he. wanted her. She just couldn't fight the physical attraction between them.
"No hurry," Luke agreed smoothly, "although I do not think we should wait too long."
"I have to get used to the idea of' losing my daughter." Simon smiled. "I don't want to lose her too soon."
"I understand your sentiments—" Luke sipped the coffee "—but I did explain-last night that Sophie and I had been.. impetuous. I would not like any repercussions from that impetuosity to put in an appearance before we have been legally bound together."
Her father paled. "You mean—"
"I mean it is highly likely that Sophie is carrying my child."
"Oh!" Sophie's gasp was cut short by the pressure exerted on her knee by Luke's long fingers. She gulped back the rest of her protest, those fingers pressing painfully into her skin.
"I see." Her father didn't look as if he could take many more blows like this, "that's something that hadn't occurred to me," he said dully.
"No, and I am sorry to mention it. But you do understand…"
"Oh, yes, we understand," Rosemary said sarcastically. "Sophie could be pregnant, and so you're only doing the decent thing and marrying her."
"Rosemary!" Her husband's shocked voice reprimanded.
Luke gave her a cool look. "I did not say that."
No, he hadn't said that, but he hadn't exactly denied it, either! -Sophie was fuming. It was bad enough that he had given her parents a completely erroneous impression about them without making things any worse.
Her stepmother shrugged. "It's fairly obvious what's happened. Sophie became infatuated with you and forced you into a situation no man could resist. That doesn't mean you have to marry her."
"Rosemary!" her husband said sharply.
"Well, it's true Simon. Sophie—"
"I was not an unwilling participant," Luke cut in coldly.
"Rosemary, please," her husband said wearily. "They want to get married, and it seems it would be better if it were sooner rather than later. We'll make all the arrangements from here, Luke. I want my daughter to have the perfect wedding."
Sophie could have cried a
t the raw pain in her father's voice-and she could cheerfully have slapped Luke's arrogant face for him. With everything he said he made things sound worse. To say she could be expecting his child!
To her shame she felt an inner glow at the thought of bearing his child. Would they have children? It gave the idea of .her marriage to Luke a permanence she hadn't thought of. But of course a child could be a possibility between them, although she didn't think Luke would let that happen as easily as he was letting her parents believe.
Luke seemed to feel no remorse when she attacked him with it later, the two of them in the room that had been converted into a studio, supposedly to work on the portrait for her father's birthday.
He shrugged off her attack. "What difference does it make? Besides, the decision has been made, and I see no reason to delay carrying it out. I do not intend to spend months as a fiancd when all I want is to get you into my bed."
"It didn't occur to you that you've deeply shocked my father with your lies," her eyes sparkled angrily.
"He is a man of the world. He would know how easy it is to be carried away by the more basic emotions, so carried away that we did not think of taking the necessary steps to prevent the possibility of a child."
"But we haven't done anything like that!" She could almost have stamped her foot with frustration.
"You have only to say the word—" he said meaningfully.
"You know very well what I mean," she snapped. "That painting has put us in a position where we have to marry each other, but do you—"
"I do not have to marry anyone."
"Do you have to make things sound worse than they are?" she carried on, talking as if he hadn't spoken. "Implying I could be pregnant!"
“But you could be, in thought if not in deed.''
She blushed, the knowledge that he thought of making love to her strangely exhilarating. "But I'm not. And I'm sure my father didn't need that added shock."
"And your stepmother? How do you think she feels?"
"She hasn't spoken to me about it." But no doubt she would, choosing her moment carefully!
"Neither has your father, but you profess to know his feelings on the matter." Luke came over and straightened the angle of her jaw before going back to his easel, "I realize it is hard for a father to accept that his little girl is a woman, but I do not intend waiting for you while your father comes to terms with the fact. I desire you and I want you in my bed as soon as possible.''
Carole Mortimer - The Flame of Desire Page 8