Luke Vittorio smiled fully now, showing his firm even white teeth. ‘I am sure Rosemary would not think so.’
Sophie’s resentment grew, but she was prevented from making any reply by the arrival of Eve Jeffers at Luke Vittorio’s side, the pebble-green eyes flicking over her speculatively. That brief glance was enough to show Sophie that she wasn’t considered a rival.
‘Sorry I’m late down, Luke darling,’ Eve said throatily, her hand in the crook of his arm. ‘I haven’t missed anything, have I?’ she asked maliciously.
Sophie revised her earlier opinion of this woman being beautiful; there was too much hardness about her and a cruel twist to her painted lips for her to merit such a description. Not that she didn’t look pure perfection in the green gypsy-style evening dress, there was just a hardness about her that marred that beauty.
‘You have missed being introduced to Miss Bedford,’ he informed her.
The black eyebrows arched. ‘The brat?’ She looked around. ‘Has she been sent to bed already? Oh well, spoilt kids aren’t amongst my favourite people anyway.’ She looked back at Sophie. ‘Do I know you?’
‘No,’ Sophie said stiffly.
Eve frowned. ‘I’ve seen you before, I’m sure of it. Are you a model too?’
‘You flatter me!’
‘Sophie!’ She looked up as she heard her name called, seeing Nicholas Sedgwick-Jones making his way towards her. She groaned inwardly as he beamed down at her, waiting for his opening line as she always did. ‘You’re looking particularly beautiful tonight,’ he gushed.
This time she did groan. Nicholas always said the same thing, it was only the time of day that changed. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she didn’t suspect his widowed mother of teaching it to him parrot-fashion before he came out every day; there was certainly no sincerity behind his words.
She made the introductions to the other couple, aware that Luke Vittorio regarded Nicholas with as much contempt as she did. Luckily they all started going in to dinner at that moment, although she didn’t think herself so lucky a few seconds later when Luke Vittorio offered her his arm to go in to dinner.
She had no choice but to accept. ‘Shouldn’t you be taking in your girl-friend?’ she said tartly once out of earshot of the other two.
‘I am sure Eve will be suitably entertained by your friend.’
As she could already hear Nicholas launching into an account of his life on his farm Sophie didn’t feel sure of any such thing. Nicholas bored her, so what he would do to the much more sophisticated model she had no idea. He was still enthusing about his favourite subject as they came into the dining-room, and Sophie felt almost sorry for the other girl as she saw her mother had placed them next to each other at dinner.
She didn’t feel so elated when she found herself seated next to Luke Vittorio. Her mother sat at the head of the table, Luke sitting to her left and Sophie next to him. Nicholas and Eve were sitting at the other end of the table.
‘Has Sophie managed to introduce herself yet?’ Rosemary asked Luke.
‘Oh yes,’ he nodded.
‘I think Mr Vittorio was under a mishapprehension, Mummy,’ Sophie said with relish, forking melon into her mouth.
‘About what, Sophie?’ her stepmother frowned.
‘About the age of your stepdaughter, Rosemary,’ Luke cut in. ‘I believed someone as beautiful as yourself could not possibly be the mother of a nineteen-year-old girl. Your stepdaughter seems to find my error amusing.’
‘Sophie is a naughty child.’ Rosemary put her hand intimately on his arm. ‘I hope you’ll consider her worthy of your talent.’
And Sophie hoped he wouldn’t! She had had enough of his arrogance already, let alone having to sit for him for possibly hours on end. ‘I’m sure Mr Vittorio is much too busy to paint me,’ she protested.
His dark eyes mocked her. ‘I have not yet made up my mind.’
She bristled angrily. ‘Well, I have,’ she said crossly. ‘I don’t want to be painted, by you or anyone else.’
‘Sophie!’ there was an angry flush to her stepmother’s smooth creamy skin. ‘You’ll do as you’re told.’
‘I do not paint unwilling subjects,’ Luke Vittorio stated haughtily.
Sophie felt sure that all the women he painted were more than willing, and not just to have their portrait painted. ‘Good,’ she smiled happily. ‘That lets me out.’
‘Sophie!’ once again Rosemary gasped.
‘I’m sure Mr Vittorio understands,’ Sophie said uncaringly.
‘And I’m just as sure he doesn’t,’ her stepmother’s voice was harsh. ‘I’m so sorry, Luke,’ she gave him a glowing smile, ’Sophie isn’t normally this rude.’
Only to people as arrogant and condescending as this man! ’Have I been rude?’ she queried with feigned innocence.
Rosemary’s mouth was set in an angry line. ‘You know very well you have.’
‘Then I apologise,’ she said in the same offhand manner she had carried out the rest of the conversation. ‘But I was only telling Mr Vittorio the way I felt.’
He gave her a cool look. ‘The fact that the portrait is to be a gift to your father is of no consequence to you?’
She blushed at his intended rebuke. ‘I’m sure Daddy will survive without it.’
‘I believe it was to have been a birthday present, an addition to the family record.’
‘And would you like that, Mr Vittorio, to be the painter of one of our family portraits?’
He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘It does not bother me one way or the other. I paint only what I want to paint. What my client does with that painting once it has been completed is none of my concern.’
Rosemary gave a light tinkling laugh. ‘Every portrait you do is highly acclaimed, Luke, and they’re always kept in a place of honour.’
‘I’m sure they are,’ Sophie put in dryly, sipping her wine.
‘If you can’t be civil,’ her stepmother snapped, ’then don’t say anything at all!’
Sophie shrugged. ‘That suits me.’
After that she devoted all her attention to the man sitting to her left, dazzling him with her laughing violet eyes, flattering him outrageously. And all the time she was aware of the soft murmuring of conversation between her stepmother and Luke Vittorio. Not that she could hear what was being said, they were talking too quietly for that.
Her stepmother was the gracious hostess to this sophisticated man, and yet Sophie knew that she would be in for a certain amount of angry reprisal once her stepmother had her alone. She had in fact been more outspoken than she intended, but she didn’t regret it. Her stepmother might like the man, enjoy his company, but. she wasn’t going to become another of the women following him with adoring eyes. She didn’t much like the attention Rosemary paid him either, and she could see her father watching them closely too.
Nicholas managed to be at her side again as they stood in the lounge drinking coffee. His boyish face always looked pink and well scrubbed, his fair hair kept short and brushed away from his forehead. Sophie supposed he could be called good-looking—if only he didn’t have such a boring turn of conversation. He was doing it again now, launching into a lengthy tale about a sick cow he had.
‘Of course I knew the diagnosis before the vet told me,’ he said enthusiastically, ’but you have to call these chaps out just to confirm it.’
‘Yes, of course you do,’ she agreed vaguely, watching as her stepmother continued to stay at Luke Vittorio’s side. He was obviously the guest of honour, a feather in Rosemary’s social cap, but it really wasn’t like her to neglect her other guests like this.
‘I—er—I don’t suppose you would care to come over to tea tomorrow?’ Nicholas looked at her expectantly. ‘My mother would love to see you.’
Sophie didn’t doubt it. Every time she saw Mrs Sedgwick-Jones she extolled the virtues of her only child, hinting broadly at how she would welcome Sophie as a member of the family. The Sedgwick-Joneses might have
breeding, but they had very little money to go with it. It wouldn’t be so bad if Rosemary didn’t encourage them, inviting Nicholas over here every chance she had.
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think I can, Nicholas, not with all these guests here. It wouldn’t look very good if I just disappeared tomorrow afternoon.’
‘But they aren’t your guests,’ he persisted. ‘And I’m sure your stepmother wouldn’t mind. Besides, these people aren’t even in your age group.’
Neither was he, if the truth were known. He might only be twenty-three, but he acted much older. ‘I don’t think I should,’ she refused. ‘Not when we have guests.’
And one guest in particular. It was a disquieting feeling seeing her stepmother’s head bent towards that dark one so often, and her feelings of unease increased as she saw the frown on her father’s face.
‘He’s a distinguished-looking chap, isn’t he?’ Nicholas remarked at her side, drawing her attention back to him.
‘Mm?’
‘Luke Vittorio,’ he explained. ‘He’s a very noticeable chap.’
He had obviously followed her line of vision and misunderstood her interest. ‘I suppose you could say that,’ she acknowledged ruefully.
‘He’s not what you expect of an artist, though, is he?’
Sophie gave an amused smile. ‘And what did you expect? The classical paint-stained smock, the paintbrush behind each ear?’
A dark hue coloured his cheeks. ‘Now you’re mocking me!’
She put a hand on his arm. ‘Only a little,’ she gave him an apologetic smile. ‘But Mr Vittorio could hardly sit down to dinner in his working clothes. I’m sure he wears denims and tee-shirts when he paints.’ And looked just as distinguished in them as he did his other clothes. The man carried himself with arrogant elegance and would stand out in a crowd no matter what he wore.
‘You seemed to have a lot to say to him at dinner,’ observed Nicholas.
‘I’m surprised you noticed,’ she teased. ‘You seemed pretty well occupied with Eve Jeffers.’ She had seen the other girl trying to stifle a couple of yawns as Nicholas didn’t stop talking throughout the whole meal.
Again he blushed, although she thought he was secretly pleased about her noticing such a thing. He perhaps, mistakenly, thought her to be jealous.
‘Miss Jeffers was very interested in that sick cow I was telling you about.’
She shook her head. Poor Nicholas, he had no idea how boring he was. She looked up to find a pair of deep brown eyes watching her with mocking amusement, and glared resentfully at Luke Vittorio, guessing that Nicholas was the reason for his amusement. Her stepmother seemed to have momentarily left the man’s side, although he wasn’t short of company, surrounded as he was by a group of the female guests.
Sophie put her hand in the crook of Nicholas’ arm, leading him purposefully over to the chattering group. She edged her way in to stand at Luke Vittorio’s side, giving him a dazzling smile as he looked down at her questioningly.
‘Would you care for some more coffee?’ she asked him politely.
He seemed surprised by her friendly attitude after her earlier rudeness, his eyes narrowing. ‘No, thank you. Your stepmother has seen to my needs.’
Sophie’s mouth tightened. Not all of them she hadn’t! ’Nicholas has been longing to talk to you,’ she pulled the shy young man forward. ‘There wasn’t time before dinner.’
‘Oh, but—’ Nicholas began to protest.
She patted his arm. ‘Now don’t be shy, Nicholas. I’m sure Mr Vittorio would love to hear about your farm. Tell him about that poor sick cow you had.’
Nicholas looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m sure that can be of no interest—’
‘Of course it would,’ she encouraged, surprised that for once he seemed to have realised someone had no interest in the welfare of his animals. ‘I’ll just go and make sure our other guests have everything they need. I won’t be long.’
‘But—’
She gave a mischievous smile before walking away. She would teach Luke Vittorio to laugh at her. Let him listen to Nicholas and see how he fared!
He seemed to be faring very well ten minutes later when she looked over at him; the two men were apparently deep in conversation.
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 d
islike.
‘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.’
Flame of Desire Page 3