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Flame of Desire

Page 14

by Carole Mortimer


  ‘Not at all.’ He wasn’t drawn by her anger. ‘I told you I wanted a virgin, someone to be a mother to my children.’ He pulled her face round to look at her, his fingers gently touching her mouth. ‘Your lip is swollen here,’ he said thoughtfully.

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘I did this when I struck you?’

  ‘Yes!’ she answered even more vehemently, liking his touch in spite of herself.

  His hand dropped away. ‘I am sorry,’ he said softly.

  Sophie’s eyes widened. ‘You—you’re sorry?’

  ‘Yes,’ his voice was stilted. ‘I despise myself for resorting to physical violence.’

  ‘Oh yes, of course,’ she said bitterly. ‘Why resort to physical violence when good old-fashioned lust would have silenced me just as effectively?’

  ‘I do not understand.’

  ‘Oh yes, you do,’ she contradicted forcibly. ‘You’ve always known the effect you have on me physically. Good grief, that was partly the reason you found it so easy to persuade me to marry you. I’m a complete fool where you’re concerned,’ she added disgustedly.

  Luke’s brown eyes swept over her coldly. ‘Physical pleasure is not the whole of marriage.’

  ‘Perhaps not, but it’s all we’ve got.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed quietly. ‘But matters are not helped by your lies.’

  She gasped indignantly. ‘I only lied because I didn’t want you to be angry again. Telling you I’d seen my father would have done that.’

  ‘Has it never occurred to you that your father may have marital difficulties of his own?’

  Sophie gave a bitter laugh. ‘He’s always had marital difficulties.’

  ‘But lately they have become more intense.’

  ‘Oh, I know that—I also know the reason for it.’

  ‘You do?’ he probed.

  ‘Of course I do, it’s no big secret, is it?’

  ‘It would appear not,’ he said dryly.

  ‘It’s not something that can be hidden.’

  ‘But if you know all this why have you given your father the impression that we are not happy together? That can do nothing to help the situation.’

  ‘I don’t intend helping the situation. Why should I?’

  ‘Indeed,’ he nodded abruptly. ‘That is the sort of answer I would have expected a child to make. It appears that is what you are.’

  ‘Don’t start using my age as a weapon against me,’ she snapped. ‘I may be young, but you still wanted me.’

  ‘Fool that I am,’ he muttered in a strangulated voice. ‘But I cannot begin to understand you.’

  ‘Then that makes two of us—I don’t understand you either.’

  ‘You do not try to,’ he told her curtly.

  Her father greeted them with obvious warmth, Rosemary’s greeting was much more welcoming than Sophie had expected. But then it probably wasn’t meant for her; her being here meant Luke was here too. Nevertheless, she was taken aback by the warmth of Rosemary’s kiss on her cheek, and completely puzzled by the happiness shining out of her china-blue eyes.

  Rosemary straightened the curtains in the bedroom she had just shown them into, while Luke left the two women after depositing their suitcase at the foot of the double bed. ‘You’re looking pale,’ Rosemary remarked abruptly.

  ‘I—I’m a little tired—from the journey,’ Sophie added hurriedly.

  Her stepmother gave her a knowing smile. ‘Honeymoons have that effect, don’t they?’

  ‘It was the journey,’ Sophie repeated crossly.

  Rosemary shrugged. ‘If you say so. But if I were married to Luke I—’

  ‘Well, you’re not!’ she interrupted sharply. ‘He’s my husband, not yours.’

  Rosemary frowned. ‘Your father said you were very tense, I didn’t realise how much.’ She sat down on the bed. ‘Would you like to tell me about it?’

  Sophie’s look was scathing. ‘You’re the last person I would talk to about it!’

  Her stepmother stood up, her movements jerky. ‘I know we haven’t always been the best of friends, and I know that it’s mainly been my fault, but I had hoped things would be different now. If you could just understand that a lot of my bitchiness has been due to jealousy—’

  ‘Oh, I know that,’ Sophie cut in.

  ‘You do?’ Rosemary looked relieved. ‘Then you know what your marriage to Luke means to me.’

  ‘Yes!’ She knew what it meant to her too—being second best.

  ‘Your father would like it if we could try to be friends,’ Rosemary added.

  She felt sure Rosemary would like it too; it would allay suspicion. ‘Yes,’ she acknowledged unenthusiastically.

  ‘I—I’m sorry about your baby, about your not having one, I mean.’

  That made Sophie see red. ‘Why does everyone assume that I wanted one?’ she snapped angrily. ‘I’m too young to have a baby. And I’ve only been married a couple of weeks.’

  ‘In your case time doesn’t seem to have been important. You didn’t waste any capturing Luke.’

  ‘Look, we both know that I followed you to Luke’s bedroom that night,’ said Sophie coldly.

  ‘It was the painting that condemned you,’ Rosemary said softly.

  ‘Yes,’ she accepted dully. ‘Now, if you don’t mind I’d like to wash and change for dinner.’

  Rosemary gave her a friendly smile. ‘Of course. And if you do feel like a chat at any time you know where my room is.’

  ‘Next to Daddy’s.’

  Her stepmother looked at her closely. ‘A lot of married couples have separate bedrooms, Sophie, it doesn’t mean they don’t have a normal married life together. You and Luke may even decide to have separate rooms later on.’

  They might as well now, for all the intimacy there was between them. Last night she had slept on her side of the bed, conscious of Luke’s naked body beside her, his back turned towards her not encouraging any contact from her.

  ‘Maybe,’ she nodded agreement, doubting if there would be any ’later on’ between Luke and herself.

  ‘Has Luke finished your portrait yet?’ Rosemary changed the subject.

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘Will he have finished it for your father’s birthday, do you think?’

  Sophie put the suitcase on the bed, snapping open its lid to begin unpacking the contents. ‘You’ll have to ask him. He’s been working on another portrait this week.’

  ‘Anyone interesting?’

  She shrugged. ‘Someone called Madeleine.’ She sounded much more casual than she felt, her jealousy concerning the other woman was still very strong. But perhaps it wouldn’t hurt Rosemary to know she had other competition besides herself.

  ‘Madeleine Drury?’ Rosemary queried sharply.

  ‘I really couldn’t say,’ Sophie said uninterestedly.

  ‘A redhead, with cat-like green eyes?’

  ‘That sounds like her.’

  Rosemary sighed. ‘In that case, a little word of warning, Sophie. Madeleine has been after Luke for months.’

  Sophie could have laughed out loud at the irony of her stepmother warning her about another woman being after Luke. ‘I couldn’t do much about it if he wanted her.’

  ‘Don’t be a fool,’ Rosemary snapped. ‘You may only have been married two weeks, but even that should have told you there are ways of keeping your man.’

  ‘Is that how you’ve managed to hold on to my father all these years?’

  Her stepmother was pale. ‘Your father loves me.’

  ‘And you love him,’ Sophie sneered.

  ‘Yes, I do. God, Sophie, marriage to Luke has certainly changed you!’

  Sophie gave a tight smile. ‘Hasn’t it just!’

  ‘I wouldn’t let your father see just how hardened you’ve become. I don’t want him worried or upset right now.’

  ‘Why especially now?’

  ‘You’ll find out—later,’ and Rosemary left, the smile still in her eyes.

  It a
ll sounded very mysterious to Sophie, and she wasn’t sure she was going to like ’later’. Her father and Rosemary obviously had something they wanted to tell them. Oh God—she sank down on the bed—they couldn’t be going to divorce after all these years, could they?

  Just the idea of it filled her with dread. But no, it couldn’t be that, her father wouldn’t be looking so happy. She might doubt Rosemary’s love for her father, but she could never doubt his for her.

  No, there had to be some other explanation, something else that was causing that inner glow to her stepmother. She couldn’t begin to guess what it was.

  She was putting the finishing touches to her hair when Luke came into their bedroom half an hour later, looking at him expectantly for some sign that he approved of her choice of dress, the black silk jersey clinging to the rounded curves of her body, its seductive elegance given a more demure appearance by the high roll neckline. But Luke looked right through her after his initial glance in her direction and went into the adjoining bathroom to take his shower.

  ‘Did you choose that colour deliberately?’ he finally asked, buttoning the snowy white shirt across his brown chest.

  Sophie was sitting on the bedroom chair waiting for him. ‘What colour?’

  ‘Black. Are you trying to ruin the evening before it begins?’

  She frowned. ‘Could my wearing black do that?’

  He shrugged his shoulders into the iron-grey velvet dinner jacket. ‘It could if it is a reflection of your mood.’

  ‘Why should my mood matter to anyone?’

  ‘Do not feel sorry for yourself,’ he snapped. ‘Self-pity is something I abhor.’

  ‘Self-pity? But I—’

  ‘You will do nothing to ruin your father’s happiness tonight,’ he ordered. ‘I hope you did not upset Rosemary when she told you. I know how childish you can be.’

  ‘Right now I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s Mummy supposed to have told me?’

  Luke gave her a sharp look noting her genuine look of puzzlement. ‘She did not tell you,’ he stated.

  Sophie shrugged. ‘I don’t know, do I? She may have done.’

  ‘She did not,’ he said with certainty. ‘I should have realised. You are too calm—I must expect hysterics at least.’

  ‘Then you tell me and let’s get the hysterics over with.’

  He shook his head. ‘It is not for me to tell you.’

  ‘You’re making all this sound very mysterious, Luke.’

  ‘There is nothing at all mysterious about it, as you will soon find out.’

  ‘How is it that you know this great secret and I don’t?’ she persisted.

  ‘Possibly because they are unsure of your reaction.’

  ‘You aren’t going to give anything away, are you?’ she snapped impatiently. ‘Oh, let’s go down and get this over with.’

  Luke grasped her arm. ‘Do not make a scene in front of them.’

  Sophie wrenched out of his grasp, glaring at him angrily. ‘Don’t treat me like a child! I can take whatever it is they’re going to tell me.’ If she could take his affair with Rosemary then she could take anything.

  He sighed, straightening his cuff. ‘I hope so.’

  Only her father was in the lounge when they entered the room, pouring them both a drink. ‘Rosemary should be down in a moment,’ he told them, looking rather anxiously at Luke, she thought.

  Really, all this mystery was making her nervous, and her father looked nervous enough for all of them.

  Rosemary looked stunningly beautiful, the blue chiffon gown exactly matching the colour of her eyes, eyes that suddenly seemed to have lost that hardness to them. She went straight to her husband’s side, raising her face for his kiss. After an embarrassed glance at Luke and Sophie he complied.

  Sophie hadn’t seen such open affection between them for a very long time and she gave an involuntary start. Luke’s hard fingers on her arm kept her standing at his side, her look of bewilderment met by one of cool assurance.

  ‘Can I have a drink, darling?’ Rosemary asked her husband.

  Simon frowned. ‘Are you sure you should?’

  She pouted at him. ‘Just a little one won’t hurt me.’

  ‘But the doctors said you were to take it easy.’

  Doctors—what doctors? Sophie’s bewilderment grew. Surely Rosemary wasn’t ill? She hoped not. She and Rosemary might have argued in the past, but she was the only mother Sophie had ever known, and she didn’t wish her harm.

  ‘They also said I was to lead as normal a life as possible,’ Rosemary continued.

  ‘Yes, but—’

  Rosemary squeezed his arm. ‘If you really don’t want me to then I won’t,’ she smiled at him gently.

  ‘Well… perhaps a little one,’ he conceded. ‘But you must take care of yourself.’

  ‘Yes, darling,’ his wife glowed up at him.

  Sophie was thoroughly confused by now. Rosemary was obviously seeing a doctor for some reason, but her father’s attitude didn’t seem to point to her being ill, at least, not ill as she knew it.

  ‘Are you unwell, Mummy?’ She could contain her curiosity no longer.

  ‘Not exactly.’ Rosemary looked at her husband. ‘Simon?’ she prompted.

  He gave a sheepish grin. ‘I feel a little foolish at my age,’ and he did indeed look very embarrassed. ‘Rosemary isn’t ill, Sophie,’ he cleared his throat noisily. ‘The truth of the matter is—well, she—we—’

  ‘I’m going to have a baby!’ Rosemary announced proudly.

  CHAPTER NINE

  TO say Sophie was taken aback was an understatement. She was stunned.

  ‘But I—I thought you couldn’t have children.’ She had known of the unhappiness Rosemary felt in the beginning of her marriage when year after year she didn’t produce the child she had so desperately wanted.

  ‘There was never any medical reason for it,’ Rosemary explained gently.

  Sophie licked her suddenly dry lips. ‘I—I see.’

  ‘Sophie is naturally a little overwhelmed by all this,’ Luke put in calmly.

  Her father gave him a grateful smile. ‘Yes—yes, of course she is. I—I’m still a bit dazed myself. Rosemary only told me yesterday.’

  So that was the reason her father had invited them down here for the weekend, even though she had asked him not to. He hadn’t wanted to see Luke and herself together at all, but to tell them his news.

  Rosemary was to have a baby! The idea shocked her, she had to admit it, but now she knew the reason for Luke’s concern, the reason he had thought she would make a scene. Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being right.

  She went forward and kissed her stepmother on the cheek. ‘I’m very pleased for you,’ she gave a strained smile. ‘Very pleased.’

  Rosemary looked at her uncertainly. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really.’ She turned to her father. ‘You must be so excited!’

  ‘Well… a little,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘Although I’m a bit old to be starting another family.’

  Rosemary linked her arm through his. ‘Of course you’re not, you’re in the prime of life.’

  He grinned down at her. ‘I thank you for that, but I know it isn’t true.’

  Their light chatter was giving Sophie time to gather her scattered wits together, time she badly needed. The shock was lessening now, the numb feeling beginning to fade. She couldn’t fail to see how this baby was pleasing her parents, they looked the happiest they had for years, and she didn’t feel quite so shut out because she had Luke. He had tried to warn her without actually coming straight out and telling her, and she could at least feel grateful to him for that, although his warning had come out as more of a threat.

  Dinner wasn’t as bad as she had imagined, her parents seeming to consider they had talked about the coming baby enough. Nevertheless, her excuse of having a headache at ten-thirty was a genuine one, probably due to the tension she had been under lately.


  She was in bed pretending to be asleep when Luke came into their room fifteen minutes later, aware of him moving quietly about the room as he prepared for bed. The bed gave slightly as he climbed in beside her and she waited expectantly for him to turn his back towards her as was his usual practice lately.

  ‘I know you are not asleep,’ his voice sounded loud in the darkness. ‘Your breathing is much too deep.’

  ‘Quite the detective, aren’t you?’ she said tartly. ‘Why have you come to bed now? You don’t usually retire this early.’

  ‘I could not stay downstairs while my wife came to bed, it would not be polite to do so.’

  ‘It wouldn’t have bothered me.’

  ‘I am sure it would not,’ he said dryly. ‘But as I said, it would not have been polite.’

  ‘I’m sorry if I’ve dragged you to bed,’ she snapped.

  ‘You never have to drag me to bed,’ he murmured throatily, turning on his side to look down at her, his fingers trailing down her bare arm. ‘I am usually only too eager to join you, and tonight is no exception.’

  The intimacy in his voice was drugging, her headache long forgotten. ‘You want to make love to me?’ she asked breathlessly.

  ‘As always,’ he said throatily.

  ‘Always, Luke?’

  His lips caressed her throat. ‘Do you doubt it?’

  She nodded. ‘Quite often.’

  ‘I cannot make love to you when you make me angry. I could be quite brutal with you if I did that, so I find it wiser to leave you alone at such times. Unfortunately you often make me angry.’

  ‘I don’t mean to,’ she whispered.

  ‘That is part of the trouble, you have no idea when what you do makes me angry.’

  Her hands moved out tentatively to touch him, feeling the shudder run through his body. Sophie smoothed his muscular back, her firm uptilted breasts against the roughness of his chest. ‘Is this making you angry?’ she breathed against his skin.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I would say a definite no,’ she teased.

  ‘You would be right.’

  Once again Sophie felt the magnetism of him carrying her along on a tide of passion, felt herself become weak and pliable as only he could make her. And yet she felt a certain amount of resentment towards him too, resentment that he should choose to use her whenever he wanted. Her wants and needs didn’t come into it, and although he always gave her pleasure it was always when he wanted to make love, his manner towards her at other times barely civil.

 

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