by Margaret Way
Her red-gold hair made a thick silky halo about her face and her green eyes quickened with sympathetic interest. 'May I have your permission to take Lucia on a shopping spree? Unless you particularly like her long hair I'd like to get it restyled as well. With the summer and all the new activities we can plan on she'll be needing so many things, and her hair is weighing her little face down.' She kept looking at him, fearing she might offend him, but he seemed calmly meditative, his tilted-back head emphasising the deep cleft in his chin. 'What do you think?' Her hand fluttered rather helplessly and he caught it and this time carried it directly to his mouth.
'What a perfect little mother you'll make!'
Brooke muttered something incoherent, dismayed by the arrowhead of flame that was shooting from her palm, past the wrist and up her arm. 'Then it's all right?'
'Yes, darling,' he answered. 'Needless to say Papa is paying.'
He still held her hand and she withdrew it strongly, a delicate flush glowing under her skin. 'Good! I'll tell Lucia we have your blessing.'
'Only one thing! ' he said suddenly, looking hard and businesslike. 'Can you not thank me?'
'Yes, of course. Thank you!' She stood up nervously and smoothed her linen skirt.
He too came to his feet, looking down at her creamy confused face with the heat of warm blood over the cheekbones. 'Lucia tells me she finds you very beautiful and kind. She admires you' and I think she is prepared to love you, which means, I think, we should set the date of our wedding.'
'I'd hoped you'd forgotten all about it!'
'Don't be stupid, piccolo,' he said coolly. 'I want a big church wedding so I can say to our grandchildren how beautiful a bride their grandmother made!' His hands closed over her shoulders and Brooke stood perfectly still beneath them, conscious of panic and a strange aching yearning.
'What was Lucia's mother's name?' she asked him. 'Where is she now?' There was a curious tightness in her usually pretty, low-keyed voice.
His hands hardened and his dark face was suddenly filled with shadows, almost remote. 'Her name was Lucia, like her daughter.' he answered finally. 'She was eighteen years old when she died and I have never ceased blaming myself. She trusted me and I would have married her, but she told no one. She went away and I waited. I would have brought her back had I known, but I did not until it was too late. The birth was premature and she died before l could get to her. She lived with an old couple who found out my name and sent for me. You can't imagine how I felt. Poor little Lucia! She thought I didn't love her. She knew somehow I would make my way in the world and she did not want to be a burden.'
'I'm so sorry.' Brooke said faintly. The chair was pressing against the back of her knees and she allowed him to put her gently back into it .
'Does Lucia know the story?'
'She knows I would have married her mother had she lived. This I swear. I had some reputation in the village as a Lothario, but no one doubted my honour. Lucia was a child, a little shadow that always followed me. She was always there wherever I turned, big eyes adoring. There was only one time, then nothing. I lost my head, but afterwards I worried. She was a good girl, like my little Lucia, but very sensitive and shy―someone who only lives through another person, the man she loved. It was her tragedy that she chose to love me.'
'She must have been brave even when she was completely desperate. Did she have no family?'
'She had no one who really cared!' he said harshly.
'So now you know Lucia's story. It is not very pleasant, is it?'
'Your daughter still has you,' she answered quietly, aware of the pain in him. Paul Corelli, the ruthless, with his arrogant mocking face, was still hurt badly by a youthful tragedy.
'For years afterwards when I thought of little Lucia dying alone I nearly went out of my mind, but I held to my daughter tightly. For her I have made my fortune. For the son I have yet to have. I've had many women since, but no woman has ever again borne my child. So help me God, I intend to marry you!' His black eyes glittered like jet over her frightened face. 'You are no forsaken, half-starved child, you are a woman of passion and spirit―or you could be when you unfold. Give me your answer now, because I'm not going to follow you around like a puppy dog. When will you marry me?'
His eyes flashed so brightly Brooke almost exclaimed in a panic. 'With anyone else trying' to rush her into such a decision she would have told them to go and jump off the building, but it was unthinkable to say such a thing to Paul Corelli. There was a violence in him and a purpose that set up a swirling sea of excitement. He even seemed sick to death of her tardiness as though another day of hesitation would foreclose their deal.
Swept by his personality and his devastating impatience, she found herself reaching out to him almost pleadingly. 'Please, Paul! '
'Please nothing !' He almost hurtled her to her feet, holding her by both arms. 'How long will it take you to arrange things, a month, six weeks?'
She was shaking, yet his eyes were leaping over her as though she was perfectly steady. 'All of s-s-six weeks.' she stammered.
'So be' it!' He let her go as swiftly as he had taken hold of her, and it broke Brooke's crushing tension.
'So that's off the agenda! ' she said furiously. 'Corelli, buying up everything in sight―me, a house, a parcel of land! ' Sparks of anger and bitterness seared her like a flame, bringing her creamy face to startling, vivid life. He was full of ambition and she was already tied up. A Corelli possession. She twisted violently away and went to reach for her handbag, but he pulled her into his arms with devastating suddenness, pressing her against his lithe body, pinning her arms behind her back.
'What makes you the way you are?' he asked tautly, 'or is there no rose without thorns? In the beginning you told me you disliked me intensely, yet now you are shocked and offended that I don't kiss you until you cry out!'
'I'm not another one of your women!” she cried recklessly, and her voice throbbed with a mad humiliation.
'You are my woman!' he gritted between clenched teeth, 'and the sooner you learn it the better!'
Everything seemed to swim before her eyes. The hunter advancing upon her. He lowered his dark head almost savagely and took her mouth, forcing it open, utterly ruthless, draining its sweetness until she moaned, almost shattered by the passion and the violence that was in him. Emotionally she was being swept outside all safety, yet he had shifted his cruel hold to encircle her slender body almost protectively, kissing her so deeply she was made hungry or thirsty for she didn't know what. Boldly his hands came up and cupped her young breasts, the warmth of his hands searing the silk arousing her so that she was taken by shock and abandon. She was clinging to him, her mouth moving over his skin, so scented of the male, everything happened so fast it was almost a matter for appalled wonder.
'Will you sleep with me when we're married?' he asked against her mouth. His fingers wound through the silky tendrils of her hair, caressed her nape, his voice very deep and tender, promising ecstasy, delight. It was so easy for him, and in spite of the urgent, almost helpless response of her body Brooke pulled back from him, forcing her head to clear.
'One thing at a time!' she said curtly, as though her pride only permitted her one course. 'You promised me when I'm ready! '
'And you're not?' He looked down at her steadily.
'Just think―you don't love me!' she cried tearfully. 'I don't love you. It's barbaric! '
Paul moved back and took a cigarette from the silver box on his desk. His strong lean hands were perfectly steady. 'And you wish we did?' he asked almost wearily.
'I told you once before it seems wrong to marry without love.'
'But you won't let me!' he said as though she intrigued him. 'I have only ever wanted one woman, not six dozen as you seem to think. Let me look after you as if you were just a little girl.' I promise I will be so good to you, you won't deny me anything.'
'Do I have your word?' she asked compulsively.
'So far and no further. So lo
ng as you don't deliberately tempt me your bed is inviolate until such time as you come to know yourself better.'
'Then I must believe you! ' she said intensely.
'Of course.' He gave her a brief smile that was as cool as his eyes. 'Your mother will like to take care of things, I imagine. She will enjoy it, and I would like the reception to be held at Wintersweet.'
Colour flared in her cheeks and she bent down and retrieved her handbag. 'If there's anything else you decide please let me know !'
'Poor little one! ' he drawled sardonically, his heavy-lidded eyes half closed against the thin veil of smoke. 'Anyway, I am very grateful to you for the interest you have taken in my daughter. She thinks we are very much in love. Please don't disillusion her.'
'And Carla?' Brooke retorted flashingly.
'Come.' he said, and his dark face assumed an expression of incredible hauteur, 'what has Carla to do with anything?'
'What did she do to forfeit her rights?' Brooke walked away, unafraid, to the door.
'A little jealousy won't hurt you!' he returned blandly. 'But how is one jealous where there is no feeling?'
Brooke swung about with silken grace, her golden-green eyes jewel-like in her flushed face. 'If it's all right with you I'll take care of Lucia today. Some of my girls from Brentleigh are staying home over the holidays, and I'd like Lucia to meet them when she's ready. She needs the company of girls of her own age. Later on we'll discuss what you intend to do about furthering her education. I can recommend Brentleigh. It has an excellent reputation.' She could feel the silken thickness of her hair about her face and she shook it back. 'I suppose I've lost all my lipstick, have I?'
He gazed at her for a long moment, then he laughed. 'Let us say you do not in the least look like a scotty schoolteacher! '
'Never mind, I'll fix it later!' Away from him her spirit and confidence was returned to her. 'Ciao!' she said breezily, and went swiftly through the door.
The shopping expedition would have been a great success except for one thing Carla insisted on going with them, her nonchalant, amused dark eyes seeming to destroy Lucia's frail confidence. Her sweet smile became less gay, her glance fluttering between Brooke and her mocking cousin, until finally Brooke determined she had to speak her mind. Lucia had looked charming in her last outfit, yet Carla had waved it away with such purpose that Lucia and the salesgirl both looked desolated. It didn't seem the moment for Brooke to intervene, but she did so immediately Lucia walked away to change into something else.
Carla was leaning back in her chair, her pretty legs crossed high, mocking laughter in her dark eyes. 'She is plain, the little one, no?'
'You shouldn't upset her.' Brooke said more heatedly than she intended. 'She could look charming given the chance.'
'So you say.' Carla drawled. 'Tell me, why do you do this? To please Paul?'
'To please Lucia !' Brooke returned firmly. 'I'm quite fond of her and she has no weapons against anyone like you. You are her cousin, yet you seem to be going out of your way to destroy her confidence.'
'Nonsense, I'm only teasing!' said Carla, her dark eyes hard. 'Besides, she is not really my cousin, although there was a time I was nearly her stepmamma!'
'I think it's wonderful that a marriage didn't come about. I don't think you would have been very kind to Lucia. What I can't understand is how you came to accompany her out. She speaks very highly of her aunt and uncle and her little cousins, so they must have thought you would look out for her.'
'And I haven't?' Carla asked in that gay, insincere fashion. 'Paul asked me out, Miss Howell, and I think you've sensed I would do anything for Paul.' Her dark eyes glittered and her soft laugh was insinuating, triumphant. 'It's almost been like old times. Isn't that how you say it?'
'Then you must be rather unhappy that he intends to marry me,' Brooke met the scheming mind head on.
'The question is when?' Carla returned insolently. 'They tell me cold feet go with pale skin. You are not the woman for Paul. How could you hope to hold him? You, a prim little virgin! You could never hope to understand him or give back fire for fire. He is a real man and you would only ruin his life.'
'It doesn't appear that way to him,' Brooke said smoothly, though her heart was hammering inside.
Carla gave a little exclamation that Brooke didn't understand. 'It's not you he wants,' she said scornfully, 'it's the gracious way of life. This old house you have, so big and imposing. Paul has always had great plans. He was very poor as a child. He is what is called a selfmade man, a millionaire many times over. He has learned much. Now he is the sophisticated man of the world able to buy anything he pleases but he has not forgotten his childhood. You have something to offer, that is true, and I think you know what it is!'
'Well, that rather settles it, doesn't it?' Brooke answered coolly. 'I'm quite happy with the bargain. Paul has something to offer me too! '
'Such as?' Carla asked with such venom that Brooke drew back instinctively as though confronted with a roused snake.
'None of your business,' Brooke said with no belligerence in her calm voice. 'Shall we call a truce? Lucia is returning and I won't permit you to upset her. Her father wouldn't like it.'
For an instant Carla went rigid, then she jumped to her feet. 'Excuse me,' she said grandly, 'I'm quite bored with this session. See you later, Lucia.' Her false smile flashed towards Lucia, hesitating at the entrance to the dressing rooms.
Lucia considered this gravely, her eyes seeking Brooke's, then she answered with surprising composure. 'Thank you for coming, Carla. Yes, I'll see you back at the apartment. Papa is taking us to the opera.'
After that, things went much better, though Brooke had a stunning mental picture of Carla in evening dress showing a delectable amount of bosom. One could scarcely follow Paul around, but wherever he was, there seemed to be a woman. She shuddered even remembering the last time she had seen him with Cathy Benton. Bees to the honey! It worked both ways, and it haunted her.
Lucia gave a small pirouette to display the full skirt of her dress. She and the salesgirl had chosen it together and now they were waiting for Brooke's opinion.
'Perfect! ' Brooke surveyed the young girl from head to toe. .'You're really very graceful. Now, what about sports clothes? You can expect to go swimming and sailing and we have a tennis court at Wintersweet if you're interested. I'm considered quite a good player, so I could help you there, and I'd like to give a little party for you to meet some young friends your own age.'
Lucia's nervous smile betrayed her anxiety and Brooke smiled into her eyes. 'Don't you worry, I'll be there to help you. I promise you it won't be at all nerve-racking, but fun.' She turned her titian head and smiled at the salesgirl. 'You know the sort of thing I mean, young and trendy, shirts and shorts and skirts, colours co-ordinated so they'll all mix and match.'
The owner of the boutique came back towards them smiling brightly. 'Very charming!' Stepping back a little, she surveyed Lucia's slight figure. 'Only a very young girl could wear that. It suits you beautifully dear. By the way, Miss Howell,' she transferred her effusive gaze to Brooke, 'there's something that's just come in I'd like you to see. Too lovely―though I knew the minute I saw it, it would suit you.'
Brooke smiled and said she would look at it, knowing quite well she wouldn't be able to pay for it. Both Mamma and Louise had proved very profitable customers in the past, but Brooke was in the habit of budgeting and the words 'charge it' didn't fall easily from her lips. At least Lucia didn't have that problem, for Paul didn't care in the least how much they spent and the sleek, beautifully groomed owner of this very exclusive boutique was visibly awed by the prospect of dressing Paul Corelli's young daughter. No saleswoman worth her salt overlooked future good customers, even if Brooke found the obvious flattery a little irritating.
When it was all over and arrangements made for Lucia's new wardrobe to be sent they just had time for a quick cup of coffee and a sandwich before the rush to the hairdresser. Lucia kept on excla
iming, even as she was rushing by Brooke's side, that she was taking up too much of Brooke's time, but Brooke told her quite truthfully that she was enjoying herself.
Raymond took one look at Lucia's hair and cringed, throwing his hands theatrically into the air while Lucia sat in the chair staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. Brooke in the vacant chair beside her spoke out staunchly:
'The hair itself is good, glossy and luxuriant, you will work magic with it, Raymond, I know! '
For answer he rolled his eyes. 'The problem is to get rid of all this!' As he spoke he was removing the pins from Lucia's wealth of hair and it tumbled-over her shoulders and down her back. 'Good hair, yes,' he said, 'the style more suitable for a matron of great majesty.'
'You've got the idea!' Brooke smiled encouragement at Lucia, whose frightened expression was beginning to clear. 'I'll take myself off for an hour and a half. You'll be very safe with Raymond. He's almost a member of the family.'