by Anne Mather
‘You’re—Olivia?’
The woman was staring at her disbelievingly now, and Olivia guessed that if she had heard of her she was thinking that she was not the type of woman her son would normally be attracted to. ‘Yes,’ she answered, feeling her colour deepening. ‘Is he here? Joe, I mean. I really would like to speak to him.’
‘Would you?’ Mrs Castellano shook her head, and Olivia was convinced she was going to refuse her request. ‘Well—’ she shrugged her shoulders ‘—you’d better get in. I’ll take you up to the house.’
Olivia stared at her. ‘You will?’
‘It’s what you want, isn’t it?’ The woman arched an imperious brow that was so like her son’s that Olivia caught her breath.
‘Well—yes,’ she muttered, and when the woman pushed open the door she hurried round the car. ‘Thank you. Thank you very much.’
‘Don’t thank me.’ The woman sounded the horn again, and this time an elderly man appeared to open the gates. She nodded at him as they passed, and then gave Olivia another appraising look. ‘I hope you’re not going to tell Joseph any more lies,’ she added coolly. ‘He may be the head of the family, but to me he’s just my eldest son.’
Olivia stared at her now. ‘Lies?’ she echoed defensively. ‘I haven’t told him any lies.’
‘No?’ Mrs Castellano looked sceptical. ‘Then why did I get the impression that you had?’
Olivia blinked. ‘What exactly did Joe tell you, Mrs Castellano?’
‘I don’t think that’s any concern of yours.’ Joe’s mother spoke impulsively, and then seemed to think better of it. ‘Oh—he hasn’t talked to me, but I know my son.’
Olivia shook her head. ‘I’m sorry.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘But perhaps it’s not me who’s upset him.’ She hesitated. ‘I expect you know of his—his friendship with Diane Haran?’
‘The actress?’ Mrs Castellano was scathing. ‘Oh, she’d like to think Joseph was interested in her. But I’m afraid she’ll have to be content with Mark instead.’
Olivia blinked. ‘Mark?’
‘My younger son,’ prompted Joe’s mother impatiently, and Olivia remembered the first morning she had spent at the Beverly Hills mansion, and Diane saying that Joe’s brother was an actor, too. ‘I don’t approve of him getting involved with a married woman,’ she went on irritably. ‘Particularly as I’m fairly sure she only used the connection to get to Joseph.’
Olivia tried to absorb what she was hearing. Was this woman saying that Diane had been having an affair with Joe’s brother, not with him?
‘In Los Angeles, people will do anything for money,’ Mrs Castellano continued, unaware of her guest’s confusion. ‘They’re always looking for finance for their films, you know.’
Olivia didn’t know what to say. She was trembling, as much with disbelief at what she had heard as with apprehension at seeing Joe again. ‘But—Joe—Joseph is here, isn’t he?’ she ventured nervously.
‘Yes, he’s here,’ declared his mother, somewhat unwillingly. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me why you’ve come?’
‘I—need to see him,’ said Olivia awkwardly. And then, remembering something else, she asked, ‘Could you tell me how you knew my name?’
The older woman’s lips twisted. ‘I’m not a psychic, Miss Pyatt. Joseph has spoken to me about you. Though not this week, I must admit.’ Her brows arched. ‘But don’t ask me to tell you in what context you were mentioned. Like you, I prefer to keep my feelings to myself.’
As they’d been speaking, Mrs Castellano had been driving along the twisting track up to the house, but it was only as they each fell silent that Olivia was able to take any notice of her surroundings. Tall pines, dwarf poplars and cyprus hedged the path with their branches, and the smell of resin drifted in through the estate car’s windows.
Up close, the house was less intimidating. Olivia could now see that what she had thought was a parapet was really a widow’s walk. But there were turrets, and a kind of round tower marked one corner of the building. And it was much older than the house at Malibu, with a fascinating aura of the past.
‘It used to belong to a seafaring family,’ remarked Mrs Castellano, noticing Olivia’s interest in the house. ‘In the days when the big clippers sailed to China. My husband bought the place in 1922.’
Olivia was getting out of the car. ‘You live here?’ she asked, unaware of the apprehension in her voice.
‘Not since Giovanni died,’ returned her hostess, with a wry expression. ‘I live in the city. But I don’t deny I worry about Joseph living here alone.’
Was that why she wanted Joe to marry Anna Fellini? Olivia wondered tensely, half afraid to dismiss the threat Diane had presented from her thoughts. But she was beginning to see that Richard had been mistaken about so many things; or perhaps he’d just chosen to interpret them that way.
Like that photograph, for example. What if it was of Mark Castellano and Diane? It would possibly explain why they’d chosen to go to San Diego. Mr and Mrs Castellano. Was she clutching at straws to think that Joe was too fastidious to do something like that?
‘I expect Joseph’s in the library,’ his mother went on briskly, and Olivia realised how much she cared about her son. ‘I won’t ask Victor to announce you—not unless you want me to, of course?’ She raised a questioning brow, nodding at Olivia’s quick denial. ‘I thought not.’
They entered the house by way of a charming entrance hall with a dark-stained staircase leading up on the right. The floor was polished wood with a hand-woven rug in the centre, and there were several seascapes and a magnificent barometer hanging on the panelled walls.
Through open, double-panelled doors on her left, Olivia could see a high-ceilinged living room, with long, square-cut windows, giving a delightful view of the bay. Tall cabinets, antique tables, and plenty of easy chairs and sofas strewn with cushions, gave the room a homely ambience, and it was this as much as anything that distinguished it from the house at Malibu.
This was where Joe lived, thought Olivia, with an involuntary shiver. This was his home in the truest sense of the word. She would have liked to spend a few moments absorbing that fact and holding it to her. But an older man had appeared through a door set beneath the stairs, his lined face breaking into a smile when he saw who one of his visitors was.
‘Good morning, ma’am.’ He greeted Joe’s mother warmly. And, although he must have been curious as to her identity, he was too polite to ask who Olivia was. ‘I didn’t know you were expected,’ he added. ‘Would you like me to tell your son that you’re here?’
‘That won’t be necessary, Victor,’ said Mrs Castellano firmly. ‘Joseph isn’t expecting me, but I think we’d like to give him a surprise. This is Miss Pyatt, by the way. She’s a—friend of Joseph’s. Tell me, is he in the library or holed up in his den?’
‘I believe he’s in the library, Mrs Castellano,’ said Victor politely. Then, turning to Olivia, he said, ‘Welcome to Dragon’s Rest, Miss Pyatt. Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee or—?’
‘I’ll have an espresso, Victor,’ broke in Joe’s mother, with another glance in Olivia’s direction. ‘I think Miss Pyatt would prefer to see Joseph. Isn’t that right?’
Olivia nodded her head a little energetically, and then, realising it wasn’t very polite, she managed a faint, ‘Yes.’ But in all honesty she would have preferred to sit down with Joe’s mother and delay the moment when she would have to face him. She was suddenly assaulted with the conviction that she shouldn’t have come.
‘Would you like me to—?’ began Victor, but once again Mrs Castellano interrupted him.
‘I’ll make sure Miss Pyatt finds the library,’ she instructed him crisply. ‘If you’ll bring my coffee to the living room, I’d be very grateful.’
‘Yes, ma‘am.’
Victor departed, not without some misgivings, Olivia suspected, but he knew better than to offend his employer’s mother. ‘Now,’ she said, turning to the younge
r woman, ‘I trust you won’t betray my confidence in you. If you go up to the second floor, it’s the first door on your right.’
In fact, Olivia reflected as she climbed the stairs on slightly unsteady legs, she meant the first floor. Americans called the ground floor the first floor, and therefore the next floor up was the second. It made sense, she decided, aware that she was trying to divert her fears. But she was so afraid she’d made a terrible mistake.
She emerged onto a galleried landing, with a long corridor leading in the opposite direction that was panelled with richly polished oak like the hall below. The walls here were hung with miniatures of sailing ships, and a brass lantern set on a semicircular table reminded her of Victorian lamps she’d seen in England.
The door Mrs Castellano had indicated was leather-studded and imposing. Like the panelling and the pictures, it reminded her of how old the house was. But beautifully maintained, she conceded, once again delaying her entrance. Everything about this place spelled old money and affluence.
She realised that if she waited any longer Joe’s mother might come out of the living room and see her hovering on the landing. Or Joe himself could have heard his mother’s arrival and surely then he’d feel obliged to greet his guest. With a jerky movement, she grazed her knuckles on the leather, before summoning all her courage and giving an audible tap.
‘Come in.’
It was his voice, albeit it didn’t sound very welcoming, and Olivia turned the handle of the door and stepped inside the room before she could change her mind. But even the effort of opening the door had exhausted her, and she held onto the handle for support.
‘I heard the car,’ said Joe’s voice impatiently, but although Olivia scanned the book-lined room she couldn’t see where he was. ‘You don’t have to keep coming here, Mom. I don’t need company. I’ll be perfectly all right if you’ll give me a little space.’
Olivia blinked, and carefully closed the door behind her. Where was he? she wondered, leaning back against the panels, as if she was afraid to move away. He wasn’t sitting at the desk or examining any of the leather-bound volumes on the shelves that gave the room its distinctive odour, and she was frowning in confusion when a high-backed chair that had been facing the windows swung about.
His expression when he saw her wasn’t encouraging. It was obvious he’d been expecting to see his mother, and he stared at Olivia with narrow-lidded eyes. He didn’t even get to his feet; he just sat there gazing as if at an apparition. Then, shaking his bead, he raked back his hair with an unsteady hand.
Olivia swallowed. Although she could see his face, his eyes were in shadow, and, realising it was up to her to say something, she murmured, ‘Hello, Joe.’ And then, when he still didn’t speak, she forced a smile to her lips. ‘I—I guess you’re surprised to see me, aren’t you?’
‘You could say that.’ His voice was harsh and unfriendly. His hands closed on the chair arms. ‘Where’s Rick—Richard? Does he know you’re here?’
‘Of course not.’ Olivia was defensive. She was not sufficiently sure of herself to dissemble in any way. ‘I—as far as I know, he’s still in England. What he chooses to do doesn’t have anything to do with me.’
‘Don’t lie.’ Joe moved now, pushing himself to his feet and stepping away from the chair. ‘What happened? Didn’t it work out as you anticipated? Did he get cold feet at the thought of giving up all that dough?’
Olivia swallowed. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said unsteadily. She stared at him, noticing how stark and drawn his face looked in the light. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought he’d suffered some kind of bereavement. ‘I’ve told you, what Richard does is nothing to do with me.’
Joe’s lips compressed. ‘So what was he doing accompanying you to England?’ he demanded. ‘I notice you don’t deny that that’s where he went.’
‘No. How could I?’ Olivia shook her head. ‘But I didn’t know he was going to take that flight.’
‘Really?’ He sounded sceptical.
‘Yes, really.’ Olivia pressed the palms of her hands together and moved away from the door. ‘I couldn’t believe it when he came and sat beside me. But I should have known Diane would tell him which flight I intended to take.’
‘Diane?’
‘Yes, Diane,’ said Olivia, a little uncomfortably. She licked her lips. ‘I suppose she told you, too.’
‘Diane told me nothing,’ retorted Joe roughly. ‘I haven’t spoken to her for several days.’
‘But—’
He frowned. ‘Go on.’
‘But—the night before I left—’ She coloured. ‘I was told Diane stayed with you at—at Malibu.’
‘We were together the night before you left,’ he reminded her harshly. ‘How the hell was I supposed to be in two places at once?’
Olivia blinked. ‘But Bonnie said—’
‘Yes?’ His eyes were cold. ‘What did Bonnie say to convince you?’
‘Well—that Diane was staying with you at—at Malibu.’
‘She actually said that: that Diane and I were staying together?’ he exclaimed savagely. ‘Oh, come on, Olivia. You’ll have to do better than that.’
‘She did.’ Olivia was desperate. ‘I swear it.’ She tried to remember the exact words. ‘She said she was staying with Mr Castellano. What was I supposed to think?’
Joe’s expression was remote. ‘So that’s why you invited Richard to go to England with you. You thought Diane was with me, so what the hell, you’d get your revenge?’
‘No!’ Olivia caught her breath. ‘Oh, this is ridiculous! If you won’t listen to reason, I might as well go.’
A sob rising in her throat, she turned towards the door, but before she could get it open Joe said, ‘Wait!’ With a muffled oath, he crossed the floor to halt in front of her. ‘Just tell me why you came, hmm? I have to know.’
‘Why?’ Now it was Olivia’s turn to be awkward. ‘Why should I tell you anything? You’re not going to believe me.’
‘Perhaps I will,’ he said harshly, his eyes dark and tormented. And, because she so badly wanted to reassure him, she gave in.
‘I—I wanted to know if—if what happened between us meant anything to you,’ she admitted jerkily. ‘Richard—’ She used her ex-husband’s name reluctantly, but his part in her decision had to be explained. ‘Richard said that he’d spoken to you after—after I went down to the Bistro. What he told you wasn’t true; I have no desire to live with him again.’
Joe’s-eyes narrowed. ‘But you told me you’d spoken to him.’ He made an impatient gesture. ‘That night, before I phoned, you said he’d been on the line.’
‘He was.’ Olivia was trembling. ‘But I told him I didn’t want to see him. I had no idea that later on he’d told you the opposite.’
Joe frowned. ‘But you had left the suite, hadn’t you?’
‘Yes. Because you were asleep, and I wanted to get something to eat.’ She sighed, tugging nervously at her braid. ‘Oh, you might as well know all of it. I was frightened I was falling in love with you, and I told myself that if I had something to eat I wouldn’t feel so hollow inside.’
Joe’s eyes darkened. ‘Are you serious?’ He lifted one hand and tilted her chin up to his face.
‘I wouldn’t have flown over five thousand miles if I hadn’t been serious,’ she said honestly. ‘Oh, Joe, I’m so sorry. But I had to tell you how I felt.’
Joe’s fingers caressed the skin behind her ear. ‘And how do you feel?’ he asked huskily.
Olivia flushed now. ‘I care about you,’ she muttered with a downbent head.
‘You care about me?’ he echoed, using his other hand to force her to look up at him again. ‘Like—does love came into that? I’d really like to know.’
Olivia groaned. ‘You know it does,’ she said hotly, half afraid he was playing with her. She took a breath that mingled his warmth and maleness with her surroundings. ‘I know I’m nothing like Diane, but I can’t he
lp that.’
‘Thank God,’ he said in a curiously strangled voice, pulling her towards him. He buried his face in the hollow of her shoulder, and she felt his teeth against the skin of her neck. ‘I guess it’s my fault for letting you think that Diane meant something to me. I like her, sure; but she’s really my brother’s playmate, not mine.’
Olivia was shaking now at this admission. ‘You—you mean you and she aren’t—weren’t—having an affair?’
Joe lifted his head and bestowed a warm kiss on her parted lips. ‘No,’ he said, when she was weak with languor. ‘Mark introduced us, and I guess she saw me as a more lucrative source of cash.’
Olivia shook her head helplessly. ‘I think you underestimate yourself,’ she said, sliding her arms around his waist. ‘Oh, Joe, are you really pleased to see me? You’re not just being kind because I’m here?’
Joe’s exhalation was fervent. ‘Are you crazy?’ he asked, sliding his hands down her spine to cup her bottom and bring her against him. His instinctive arousal pushed against her stomach, and she looked up at him tremulously. ‘I didn’t know what love was until I met you. Then, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know.’
‘Because of what Richard said?’
‘Partly. And because I was angry. I couldn’t believe you’d walked out on me, and his call was just the final straw. Then, when I went down to the lobby and saw you, you were signing someone’s copy of your book. I convinced myself you were more interested in selling books than pleasing me.’
‘Joe—’
‘I know, I know.’ He pulled her over to the chair where he’d been sitting and drew her onto his knee. ‘It was childish, but I couldn’t help it. I was so jealous I’d have believed anything of you that night.’
Olivia cupped his face in her hands. ‘You were jealous?’ she exclaimed disbelievingly.
‘You’d better believe it,’ he told her roughly, sliding his hands beneath her shirt. ‘I just wanted to get away, but I couldn’t go to the house at Malibu because I’d said Mark could use it. So I chartered a fight and flew back here.’
‘Oh, Joe...’ She nuzzled her face into his neck as his hands explored her, finding the strap of her bra and releasing it with a satisfying little ping. ‘I love you. I didn’t know how I was going to live without you.’ She hesitated. ‘It’s ironic but if it hadn’t been for Richard I wouldn’t be here.’