Late that night, when Jessica and Janice were asleep and Lisa in the living-room reading a book, Neal finally arrived. He'd lost weight and looked tired but once his arms were round her, his exhaustion vanished and despite her protests he began removing her clothes, his hands busy with zips and buttons until she was naked.
Terrified that Janice might waken, Lisa kept silent, realising that in some way Neal needed the comfort of her body. He too was silent. His mouth suckled greedily at her nipples and his hands moved quickly between her thighs as he went through the motions of arousing her, but very soon he was parting her legs and thrusting into her with a groan of pleasure.
Grasping her shoulder in a vice-like grip he thrust forcefully, almost as though he was annoyed at his own lack of control. Very soon his breathing quickened and with a shout that Lisa muffled with her hand he finally climaxed, wrapping his arms round her as he rolled off the sofa and they both fell on to the soft rug on the floor beneath.
For several minutes they lay there, until his breathing slowed and he lifted his head to look at her. 'I'm sorry. I didn't come here intending to hurl myself on you straight away. It was just… It's been difficult staying away this past week. All I could think about was you, and when I saw you again I couldn't wait.'
'It doesn't matter,' she lied, secretly feeling that he'd used her to obliterate the memory of Naomi.
'You're so beautiful,' he murmured, running a hand down the curve of her waist and hips. 'No one would guess you were pregnant.'
'Well, I am. I'd like to get dressed now, I'm a bit chilly.'
She pulled her skirt and silk blouse back on, then went into the kitchen to make coffee. When she returned with the tray, Neal was sitting in one of the armchairs looking as though he'd just come from a board meeting, all trace of passion gone.
'I want you to meet the girls,' he said abruptly.
Lisa swallowed a hot mouthful of coffee and felt it burning its way down her throat and chest. 'Already?'
'We haven't got that long. Our son isn't going to wait forever to be born.'
'Our baby isn't the issue here. We're talking about your daughters. I should think the last thing they want to do is meet their father's pregnant mistress.'
'They'll do exactly as I say.'
'Perhaps they will, but how do you know I'm willing to come?' 'Why on earth not? It's only a matter of time before we're married.'
Lisa stood up and looked directly down into his eyes. 'Neal, you haven't yet asked me to marry you, and even when you do I'm not sure what my answer will be. I don't like your trying to bulldoze me into marriage without having time to think about it. I'm not one of your employees who has to do as you say. I'm free, and sometimes I think I want to stay that way.'
At that moment he could willingly have strangled her. Bishop had done a marvellous job. Naomi was dead and everyone felt sympathy for him because he'd spent so many years with a woman most men would have discarded long ago. Now was the right moment to remarry, and suddenly this slip of a girl was actually suggesting she might not want marriage when he'd had two people murdered just for her, and she was possibly carrying his first legitimate heir!
He forced a smile to his face. 'I'm sorry, you're quite right. As usual I'm handling things all wrong. Come and spend a Sunday with us next month and we'll talk about our future afterwards. How does that sound?'
'Very acceptable.'
'As acceptable as the clothes from Paris?' He couldn't resist the remark but when colour flared in her face he wished he'd kept quiet. 'Keep your bloody clothes, Neal. I never asked you to buy them for me, and I certainly didn't realise they were a form of currency. One commitment for life in exchange for three tailored suits! Is that how it works? If so, keep them. Give them to Oxfam.' 'I didn't mean… '
'I don't want them!' she shouted, forgetting Jessica and the nurse. 'I never want to see them again. Just get rid of them, and here's your charge card too.' She flung her wallet across the room.
He looked down at it and swallowed back his fury. He couldn't understand why the evening was going disastrously wrong. 'Don't be silly, darling.'
'I'm not silly. In fact I'm quite clever. Do you think I don't realise what's happening? Isn't it rather amazing that… ' She stopped. Upstairs, Jessica had begun to cry and all at once she remembered just how dependent on this man she was. The expression on Neal's face made her bite back the accusation.
'Yes?' His voice was terrifyingly gentle.
'I don't know what I was going to say,' she murmured lamely. 'I'm sorry, this has been a difficult time for me too. I've been alone here day after day, worrying about you, wondering how you were coping, and then when you finally arrive you throw yourself on me as though I'm some second-rate hooker before hurling a marriage proposal at me! It's hardly surprising I'm confused!' Then, to her own secret contempt, she deliberately burst into tears.
She knew at once that her strategy had worked. There was an immediate lessening of the tension as Neal started to murmur an apology for his behaviour and reassure her of his love.
He was as relieved as Lisa that the scene was over. For one terrible moment he'd thought she actually suspected him of having Naomi murdered. If that had been the case then she would have been a threat to him, but he realised it was only another example of her highly-strung state. Even her blunt comments about marriage he was able to dismiss as nerves. Everything would work out in the end; he simply had to have more patience.
When he finally left they'd fixed a date for her visit to meet the girls. 'They've got another three weeks to get over things,' was his final comment. 'If they're not ready to meet you by then, they never will be.'
She smiled, waved goodbye, closed the door and then collapsed against it, resting her back on the solid mahogany. Three weeks to get over the death of their mother! she thought incredulously . How could any man be so insensitive? But then again, Naomi had spent most days in her room so perhaps she was being unfair to him. Perhaps the girls weren't mourning their mother as much as she thought. She didn't really know. All she knew was that for one brief moment she'd unwittingly laid bare a side of Neal that she hadn't known existed. Despite his undoubted love for her and the influence he exerted over all she did she began to wonder if she wasn't making another mistake. Next day, despite the lingering frost and cold easterly wind, Lisa left Jessica and Janice and walked briskly to the park. She needed time and fresh air. Time to think and fresh air to clear the nagging headache last night had brought on.
On her second circuit she was forced to stop abruptly as a small, dark-haired boy dashed in front of her, chasing a very large football. He threw his entire body on it and then looked up at Lisa with a wonderful smile. 'My ball!' he explained proudly. 'Papa give me an English football.'
'It's nearly as big as you!' she laughed, charmed by his obvious sweetness and glowing pride in his possession.
'Si, but I grow; the ball will not.' 'That's very true!'
He stood up and began kicking it back on to the grass. 'You play?' he asked at the last moment, his appeal almost wistful.
'I'm no good at football.' Lisa genuinely wished that she was. 'Luciano, come here at once! Leave the lady alone. She isn't interested in you… Why, we meet again, Mrs. Walker!'
Lisa's chest tightened but she tried to look calm as she glanced up at the handsome Italian. He was the last person she wanted to see just when she was persuading herself that marrying Neal was the right thing to do.
'Amazing!' she agreed with a smile. 'This must be your son.' 'Yes. Your daughter is not with you?'
'She's more difficult these days, and I wanted a chance to have a quiet think.'
'Then we will leave you alone.'
Luciano had spotted a playful Labrador puppy and was running off to see if he could pat it. Renato and Lisa stood very close. She could smell the tang of his aftershave. 'There is something worrying you?' he queried softly, taking her cold, ungloved hands in his own.
'I've got to make a decision and
I'm not sure what to do. I'm really making a mountain out of a molehill.'
'I don't understand.'
'I'm making it a bigger problem than is necessary.'
He raised one eyebrow and her stomach lurched. She wondered what it would feel like to rest her head against his massive chest and have his arms round her. Would she still feel like trying to break free as she always did with Neal? Or would she feel protected rather than trapped? She thought she might. Presumably it all came down to sexual chemistry, she thought wryly. She couldn't ask for a more patient lover than Neal, so why should she think that with this man she'd be able to relax? It was far more likely that he'd discard her after one attempt. If all she'd heard about him was true, he was sexually so sophisticated that her pathetic performance would send him to sleep!
'To marry or not to marry?' he queried, keeping her right hand in his left as they walked over the grass.
'Yes.'
'You have others beside yourself to consider. Little Jessica; the baby that is so important to your lover. Refusal is a luxury you cannot afford.'
She snatched her hand free. 'How dare you speak to me like that? What the hell do you know about what I can or can't afford? If I don't love him, and I don't, how can I go ahead and marry him? It isn't fair to Neal. He deserves better than that.'
Bellini caught hold of her wrist, his fingers digging into her skin. 'I speak to you like that because no one else will, and because I know it is the truth. I will repeat it once more before we part. After that you can think what you like about me because I shall not attempt to counsel you again. You have to marry him. If you do not, you will die. It is as simple as that. Also, do not feel sorry for him. It is you who deserves better; but life is not always fair and so you must what is the expression—make the best of things?'
'Die?' Her eyes were huge.
'But of course. Did you think he would let you go?'
'You're mad! Of course he'd let me go. What kind of a man do you think he is?'
Bellini gave a slight shrug of his huge shoulders and glanced around for his son. 'I know what kind of a man he is. Obviously you do not. And now we part. I will take Luciano home and you will go back to Neal and tell him how much you want to be his wife. That is the way it must be.'
'He hates Jessica,' she whispered.
'He loves you more. Give him a son, and after that anything you need for Jessica will be yours. If you love your daughter as much as you say, then fight for her. Neal Gueras can afford any treatment she needs. Remember that when you hesitate.'
'He isn't the only wealthy man in the world!'
'He is the father of your unborn child. I cannot think of any other wealthy man who would take his child as well as Jessica, can you?'
She shook her head. He was right. Also, her life would be comfortable and well cushioned so she was actually doubly fortunate. Except that she didn't love Neal; didn't feel any overwhelming desire to touch and be touched when she was with him. She hadn't minded that until she met this man with his devastating eyes, flexible mouth and the chiseled perfection of face common to Italian aristocrats. But now she had, it was hard to put all chance of any such relationship with a man behind her forever.
Finally she looked at him, her eyes full of unshed tears. 'No, I can't. But there's nothing to say I can't cope on my own.'
'He can help Jessica.'
'No one can help Jessica.' 'You do not know that.'
'I suppose not.'
He stopped walking and his fingers closed caressingly round her wrist. 'You are already lovers, he must be able to make you happy in that way. Why do you hang back?' The words were almost spat out through clenched teeth and suddenly there was anger in his eyes. Lisa went hot all over and stepped back so quickly that she tripped. Bellini put out an arm and pulled her against him, staring down at her flushed face.
For a moment they stayed quite still, their bodies just touching. She imagined she could feel his heat through her clothes. Abruptly he released her, his breathing ragged. 'I can understand why he would risk so much to possess you,' he said at last. 'I only wish that we had met sooner. Perhaps you will invite me to your wedding?' Then he raised her hand to his mouth, brushed it lightly with his lips and strode swiftly away across the grass. Never before had she felt so lonely.
When she got home she rang the number Dr Weissler had given her and began making enquiries about the holding technique for autistic children, and how much time and money was involved. When she finally replaced the receiver she knew that Bellini was right. If her visit to Berkshire went well, she would accept Neal's proposal, provided he accepted her conditions for Jessica's future.
Despite the Italian's forthright warning she still didn't understand anything at all about this man who wanted to marry her.
Beckett Lodge was invisible from the road. It wasn't until Neal swung the car sharply right into the concealed entrance that Lisa realised they'd arrived, and even then there was a long, tree-lined drive to negotiate before the house came into sight.
It was a large, three-story, redbrick house with small leaded windows reminiscent of a Norman castle. An extra wing had recently been added, while to the right there was a stable block behind which she could see a wide stretch of grass sloping away to a considerable area of parkland.
The front door was white, matching the ornate iron grilles covering all the downstairs windows. As they approached, Lisa's eye was caught by a movement from a circular window set above the entrance porch. She glimpsed a girl's face looking out at her but when she looked closer it had vanished.
A tall, military-looking man wearing a dark suit and white shirt opened the door, and for a moment Lisa thought he was a business colleague. 'Darling, this is Wakefield, our butler. Wakefield, I'd like you to meet Mrs Walker who will be staying here for the weekend.' The faded blue eyes were polite enough but there was no warmth in them. 'I hope your stay will be pleasant, madam,' he said stiffly, gesturing for a young lad of about sixteen wearing a lighter coloured suit to step forward. Without a glance at either Neal or Lisa, he darted out to the car and began unloading their suitcases.
'That's Michaels,' explained Neal. 'He's slightly backward but a very willing lad once he understands what's expected of him. Tell him to put Mrs Walker's cases in the blue room, Wakefield.'
'Very good, sir.'
'Where are the girls?' added Neal, a note of irritation in his voice. Lisa, busy looking about her at the mahogany paneled walls and immaculately polished parquet floor with its beautiful Persian rugs, didn't hear him and was quite surprised when one of the numerous doors leading off the hall opened and a rather plain girl with brown hair emerged, holding a book protectively in front of her.
'Ruth, I wondered where you all were! This is Lisa Walker. Lisa, my middle daughter, Ruth.'
'I'm very pleased to meet you, Ruth.' Lisa smiled and put out her hand.
Ruth responded with a limp handshake and then hung her head as she muttered what Lisa assumed to be a welcome.
'Where are your sisters?' asked Neal sharply. Ruth's pale face flushed. 'I told you all to be waiting for us.'
'Louise is studying,' she murmured, still looking down at the floor. 'For goodness' sake hold your head up! Go and fetch Louise, please.'
Lisa watched Ruth walk heavily up the wide, curving staircase with its shining oak banister, her fears of a difficult weekend already confirmed.
'Sorry about the girls!' Neal gave a reassuring smile. 'Don't take it personally. They're never very sociable. Ah, here comes Rebekah!' The thin, dark-haired child coming down the stairs in front of them looked both shy and ill-tempered. She glanced defiantly at Lisa, as though daring her to speak.
'Rebekah, this is Lisa Walker,' smiled Neal. 'I didn't think it was the Easter Bunny.'
Her father drew his brows together in astonishment. 'We all know who she is,' the little girl continued, almost stammering in her anxiety to get the words out before she was stopped. 'We've seen her picture in the papers often enough.
Mummy used to show it to us.'
'Hello, Rebekah,' said Lisa swiftly, stifling Neal's imminent outburst of rage.
'You're not as pretty as I expected,' continued Rebekah rudely. 'You aren't even wearing nail polish.'
'That's because I've got a little girl of my own and I'm forever doing her washing which makes all the varnish peel off.'
'You've got a little girl?' Suddenly there was a spark of interest in the child's eyes.
'Yes, she's… '
'Never mind that!' exclaimed Neal quickly. 'Go and fetch Louise. I can't imagine what she and Ruth are doing. I thought Louise would be anxious to meet Lisa.'
'She's already seen her from the porthole window. She said she looked like a tart. What's a tart?'
'Something you eat for tea!' said Lisa, attempting to keep smiling. 'How can a person look like a cake?'
'Go and get Louise!' muttered Neal. Rebekah's mouth set in a tight line but she did as she was told while her father guided Lisa into an enormous drawing room, at least forty feet long with a high white ceiling and a vast picture window overlooking a walled garden.
Cream drapes were tied back with thick cream cords while two comfortable chairs and a footstool upholstered in matching fabric were angled to look out at the view. By the far wall, dark-brown, high-backed velvet chairs were set round a low coffee table while at the far end a matching pair of early nineteenth century mahogany drum tables inset with green hide were covered with trailing plants in green and white cachepots. With its light aubergine carpet and attractive gold-framed hunting prints, the room's overall effect was both airy and clutter free, but Lisa felt a central focal point would give it a more welcoming air.
'I'm sorry about the girls,' Neal said stiffly. 'I warned you.'
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