A Husband's Vendetta

by Sara Wood

  ‘Sure.’ He smiled faintly when she looked pleased. ‘Providing you get up at six.’

  Her face fell. ‘When will you be back?’ she asked, horribly reluctant to see him leave. She felt like a teenage girl, mooning over her first boyfriend! she thought crossly. Of course he was tired. He’d had a long day.

  ‘Late.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said in a small voice.

  Luc cleared his throat. ‘Ellen,’ he said quietly, ‘this is a delicate negotiation I’m working on. It’s taking all my concentration and I need my wits about me.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, nodding vigorously. ‘I do understand.’ And, knowing she had no right to detain him or make him feel guilty about working so long, she managed a shaky smile of apology. ‘Gemma will be disappointed,’ she said, ‘but I’ll make her bedtime as enjoyable as possible.’ There were compensations, she thought. She’d be the one who tucked Gemma up in bed tomorrow night.

  ‘Keep her up for me,’ he said, immediately robbing her of that one consolation. ‘Look, I really don’t expect you to act as unpaid nanny twenty-four hours a day—’

  ‘I’m Gemma’s mother! That’s what mothers do!’ she cried, hurt that he saw her as an outsider.

  ‘Yes. But you need a break. Donatello will be back around four tomorrow afternoon and he’ll take over Gemma for you so you can have time to yourself. No, please— I insist,’ he said, when she opened her mouth to object. ‘He adores her. He might be a confirmed bachelor, but he does know how to entertain children. He’ll probably amuse her for a while then persuade her to take a nap so she can see me in the evening. Right,’ he said decisively, leaving her no grounds for discussing the arrangement. ‘I’m off, before I fall asleep on my feet.’ And he gave a perfunctory smile then strode quickly to his room.

  She couldn’t help noticing that he didn’t look half as tired as he claimed. He still brimmed with energy, and an intense sexual electricity radiated from his body, drawing her towards him like a dog on a lead, she thought gloomily.

  The door shut behind him and she slumped into a chair. She’d made a fool of herself. She really mustn’t throw herself at him! Wishing she didn’t feel so ridiculously rejected, she gritted her teeth and took herself off to bed with a good book. But it wasn’t good enough, and she couldn’t get back into the story at all.

  Some time in the night, when she was lying awake and crossly counting an endless line of sheep, she heard her door open. And, to her immense joy, Luc slipped into bed with her.

  ‘Luc!’ she whispered in delight.

  ‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he muttered, almost crossly, and enveloped her with his arms and body.

  She smiled happily. ‘I’ve just the thing for that!’ she purred.

  He had left her bed by the time she woke up. Ellen stretched like a satisfied cat, her body intensely alive from Luc’s passionate loving. Wandering around the suite, it didn’t take her long to realise that he’d actually left for work. That alone bothered her—it was only five o’clock.

  It seemed that he hadn’t changed his habits, and this worried her. Their relationship had foundered before because he felt obliged to work all hours. And it couldn’t be good for Gemma if her father was rarely home.

  It was a problem they must solve, she mused, making a cup of coffee, or their relationship would be no different from before. She’d progressed too far to return to being a sex object and a wife and mother. Her expectations included companionship and a sharing of their lives. They’d never be a real family if Luc insisted on playing the macho Italian patriarch while she was forced into being a carbon copy of his mamma.

  One thing at a time, she told herself. First she must win Gemma over.

  To that end, she treated her daughter to a morning by the Round Pond in Kensington Gardens, flying the kite they’d purchased the day before. Again, the outing went well, with the two of them laughing in sheer exhilaration as the kite soared and swooped and performed amazing acrobatic feats in the brisk wind.

  Glowing from the fresh air and the sense of freedom that she always felt after kite-flying, Ellen rushed Gemma off to Charing Cross by taxi to buy tricks from the Magic Shop. And before Donatello arrived they practised the tricks to show to Luc that evening.

  Oddly, Luc’s PA seemed edgy when he called to take Gemma away. Ellen noticed immediately that he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Assuming he might have an inkling of what had happened between Luc and herself, she took pity on his embarrassment and left him to take the excited Gemma downstairs.

  It was nice to have a break. It pleased her that Luc had thought to arrange for her to have some time to herself. She relaxed in a long, luxurious bath and pampered herself for him, using some of the body creams in the bathroom and then choosing her dress with great care.

  She had just slithered into a wicked-but-simple black designer dress, and was wondering nervously if it was too figure-hugging and too short—it reached barely mid-thigh—when she heard the squeals and laughter which must surely herald Luc’s arrival with Gemma. She assumed that he must have stopped off at Donatello’s room and collected his daughter.

  Her body began to tremble. ‘Idiot!’ she muttered at the huge-eyed glamour-puss in the mirror.

  Arrested, she stared at herself, amazed that a well-cut dress with just the right depth of black could do such a lot for her figure and skin. Or was it that Luc was waiting out there? She grinned. Who cared? Her eyes danced. This would be a night he’d never forget—providing, she reminded herself sternly, he wasn’t too shattered.

  Taking several deep breaths, she wandered out, and was gratified by Luc’s reaction.

  After a double take, he came straight to her, kissed her three times and whispered wickedly in her ear, ‘You do know how to seduce a man, Ellen!’

  ‘Who, me?’ she murmured, trying to be wide-eyed and innocent.

  ‘Can’t imagine how you’re going to do the can-can in that!’ he teased.

  ‘I’m very resourceful,’ she said airily.

  Luc smiled faintly. ‘I’m beginning to discover that.’ And then he raised his voice and said loudly, ‘I believe a magician is waiting to give me a show!’

  Ellen caught Gemma’s eye and nodded. The little girl ran to get her tricks and set them up solemnly on a small table. Then, tongue protruding in concentration, Gemma waved her magic wand and began the routine she’d rehearsed so carefully.

  Proudly, Ellen acknowledged that her daughter was very bright. She’d mastered the simple techniques involved and was putting on a good show. Ellen watched the finale with fond tears in her eyes as Gemma solemnly pulled silk scarves from her mouth in a series of dramatic flourishes and Luc obligingly let his jaw drop and uttered cries of complete amazement.

  This was a day she would cherish for the rest of her life.

  After the kite-flying, Gemma had actually let her hold her hand. They had laughed together and giggled furtively like naughty schoolgirls whilst they’d tried that afternoon to perfect each trick.

  Remembering this, she felt a huge tension in her chest, as if it was filled with so much love that it might burst. Now she had the people she adored close again, she’d never let them go. They all belonged together. She smiled fondly at them both and let out a deep sigh.

  It went unheard, fortunately. Gemma was bowing and Luc had risen to applaud long and loud. The magician gave up her well-deserved curtain call and flung herself at her audience, who held her lovingly close to his heart while Ellen blew her nose and muttered something about starting a cold.

  As a reward, Luc read to Gemma for a while, stroking her hair and speaking in his beautiful musical voice which raised the hairs on the back of Ellen’s neck. She just sat opposite them watching adoringly, a stupid smile permanently on her face. What more could she ask of life? she wondered blissfully. These two held the key to her heart and her happiness and she basked in the glow of deep contentment which enfolded her.

  ‘Would you like to stay up late, sweetheart?’ Luc asked, brushing a b
ouncing curl from Gemma’s small face. ‘I am going out this evening. I thought ’Tello could stay with you. You could both play Snakes and Ladders, then watch the video I brought home. Yes?’

  She looked sulky. ‘I love you, Papà,’ she said, twirling the short dark hair in front of his ear, clearly reluctant to let her father go.

  ‘I love you too, sweetheart,’ he said gently. ‘I think ’Tello was going to bring some chocolate cake. Do you think he will let you have some?’

  Gemma beamed, completely won over. She ran to call Donatello on the internal phone. Luc grinned at his daughter’s enthusiasm.

  ‘Her stomach is alarmingly bribable,’ he commented. ‘I hope no young man discovers this when she’s sixteen!’

  Ellen laughed. ‘It’s a long time off,’ she said, her mind racing through those future years, filled with school and parties, trips abroad, picnics and walks and celebrations together…

  ‘Ellen!’

  ‘Mmm?’ She blushed. Luc had been saying something and she hadn’t heard a word! ‘Sorry. Day-dreaming!’ she said breathily, her eyes dancing with silver lights.

  ‘I said,’ he repeated, ‘that I’ve booked for us to have dinner at Le Gavroche, then I thought we’d go on to Annabel’s.’

  ‘Wonderful!’ she cried. A proper date! ‘Will this do?’ she asked anxiously, indicating her dress.

  Luc’s eyes told her it would. ‘It’s wicked,’ he said in a very satisfactory growl. ‘You’ll stop the traffic.’

  ‘That’ll please the pedestrians,’ she said smugly.

  He gave a little mocking smile. ‘You won’t stop me, though.’

  ‘Oh, good!’ she enthused, with a roguish wink.

  True to his word, Luc could hardly keep his hands off her in the taxi, and she wondered if she’d arrive with her seams intact. Vibrant with elation, she swung into the famed restaurant with the intention of enjoying every sensual second of the food, and Luc’s obvious eagerness to rush her home and seduce her.

  When they walked onto the dance floor at the club later, he hauled her into his body as if he never wanted to be parted from her ever again. His mouth was in her hair, kissing her ear, moving to her neck, and she clung to him in a happy daze. This was perfection. The best day ever.

  ‘Let’s go back,’ he whispered harshly. ‘I don’t think I can wait any longer. If you don’t say yes, I swear I’ll drag you outside and take you against the nearest wall!’

  She felt like liquid beneath his hands. Dizzy with love, she could do no more than nod. In the taxi, he fell on her again and kissed her breathless. His energy transferred to her, firing her body till she felt that she could run a marathon and not be tired.

  Throwing money carelessly at the driver, he raced with her hand in hand up the hotel steps, leaping them two by two and dashing through the doors and into the lift under the astonished eyes of the night porter. Once the lift doors had closed, he boldly slid off her briefs and tormented her with his touch till she nearly erupted with longing.

  It was a long while before he hit the penthouse button for the lift to start its journey, and by then she was swaying in his arms, her leg sliding up and down the outside of his thigh and her mind and body and emotions completely intoxicated by his insistent and outrageous caresses.

  Before entering the suite, they straightened their clothes and tried to quieten their breathing. Luc spoke briefly in a low, confiding tone to a strangely tense Donatello while Ellen, flushed and hardly aware of what she did, managed to find her way to her room. She heard Luc saying goodbye to his PA, then he made his check on the sleeping Gemma.

  Ellen faced the door, her eyes bright. He came in and she saw he’d removed his jacket and loosened his tie. Without looking at her, he stumbled over and clumsily unzipped her dress.

  And then, while she stood there trembling, he lifted her in the air. As if she knew what he wanted, she wrapped her long bare legs around his waist and he let out a ragged groan, staggering back to the wall for support.

  ‘I mean to ravish you,’ he muttered thickly. ‘So thoroughly that you’ll never forget it for the rest of your life.’

  She quivered at the longing in his voice, and, more than willing, she let him lift her onto him, pushing on his shoulders so that the movement was smooth and sweet and utterly irresistible.

  She adored this man. Loved his passion, his hunger for her, the way he smiled, held her tightly, the way they’d chatted and laughed all evening as if they were old friends…

  Friends, she thought, her head going back as the rhythm of their bodies quickened and her breasts became slicked with perspiration. Friends and lovers…

  She cried out, half dying with pleasure. Her eyes were wet with tears, and when she rested her head against Luc’s throat she discovered the taste of salt. Blearily she looked up and saw that his lashes glistened and there was a track of tears on his cheeks.

  ‘Oh, Luc!’ she murmured with a shaky sigh, nuzzling up in contentment.

  But he had other ideas and bore her to the bed. Time and again he made love to her, coaxing her with an almost remorseless persistence till she begged for release. She began to lose all idea of reality, her whole mind and body and soul focused on the smell and taste and feel of him beneath her, above her, beside her…

  He’s showing me how badly he needs me, she thought in one rare, lucid moment. And then his arm was dragging her down to the carpet and her body sank to his…which was still virtually fully dressed.

  She pulled back, startled. ‘Luc!’ she croaked in a weak protest.

  But he had rolled her over, and he was pinning her outstretched arms to the floor while he slid down, down to where she still throbbed, still hungered with a deep and insatiable heat. From that moment she abandoned conscious thought and gave herself entirely to him…

  Till they both lay exhausted and sleeping in bed, clinging together in the wreckage of the linen.

  CHAPTER SIX

  LUC crawled groggily from the bed at four in the morning, forcing his limbs to obey his will so that he could stumble away from the scene of his final betrayal.

  He allowed himself no backward glance, no last lingering farewell. That would show weakness.

  Brutally he shut his mind to what he’d done and allowed the icy coldness of the shower to do the double job of punishing and waking him up at the same time.

  God! He looked terrible! Haunted eyes, razor-sharp cheekbones, a thick stubble…

  With shaking hands he managed to give himself a reasonable wet-shave and then he dressed, his movements becoming slower and his limbs heavier every second, as if they were trying to prevent him from carrying out his revenge.

  But she deserved this. She had harmed his child. She had seen his wealth and envied and coveted it—and him too, because he was part of the package. He’d been aware of the greedy light in her eyes when they’d walked into the hotel and later into the restaurant. There had been plenty of telltale remarks to indicate that she was still a material girl at heart.

  Angrily he shrugged on his jacket. It wasn’t surprising. She was living in penury, it seemed, and she’d been brought up in a cocoon of luxury. It was natural she’d want that again.

  But not that he should provide it and be paid with her body in return.

  His hands shook. He felt an urge to do something violent. To trash the room. Beat his fist against the wall. But he did none of these things. Sick to the stomach, he picked up the bag which the faithful Donatello had packed while they were having dinner, and collected Gemma’s bag too.

  He stopped in the middle of his daughter’s room. She slept with her bottom in the air as usual, and his heart somersaulted to see how vulnerable she seemed. All he wanted was to protect her and keep her from distress. He had to remember that, to keep it in the forefront of his mind. She had enough hang-ups. She didn’t need a grasping hooker for a mother as well.

  Bleakly he stared into space, reliving the past two days. It pained him to admit it, but Gemma had undoubtedly enjoye
d herself. A small uncertainty wormed its way into his mind till he scowled ferociously and ruthlessly banished it. Giving a kiddie a good time wasn’t difficult—and Gemma had never shown the slightest interest in her mother. There had been no cuddles, no affection, no loving glances from his daughter.

  He’d done the right thing. Ellen would be a bad influence. His jaw clenched as a surge of dark emotions robbed him of breath and rational thought. The power she had over him was evil. No man should want a woman so badly that he thought of nothing else.

  Luc balled his hands into fists, shaken by the ravages that Ellen had wrought on him. He burned with a terrible and confusing desire to hurt and caress her at the same time. It was a shocking, visceral feeling, and he loathed himself for being reduced to a seething mass of base reactions.

  Sourness wallowed in his stomach. Staggering to the wash basin, he poured himself a glass of water and spent a few precious moments conquering his urge to eject the contents of his stomach right then and there.

  Hell and damnation. The biter bit.

  Wearily he trudged back to Gemma. This was it, then. He bent down and stroked her hair, then turned her over gently.

  ‘Come. Andiamo,’ he encouraged, trying to get her pyjamas off.

  Like a floppy doll, she complied, her eyes fluttering open and closing again. ‘We are leaving,’ he said quietly, doing up the buttons of her cardigan. ‘Going home.’ He frowned, realising he was speaking in English. ‘Andiamo a casa,’ he said clearly.

  Gemma’s eyes flipped open in dismay. ‘No!’ she cried suddenly. ‘No! No, Papà!’

  ‘Hush, silencio!’ Astounded by her reaction, his senses dulled by exhaustion and strain, he was unable to catch her when she slipped from his grasp and ran into the sitting room, screaming her head off. ‘Gemma!’ he growled in warning.

  Ellen heard the commotion and sat bolt upright in bed. ‘Oh, my God! Gemma!’ she breathed. ‘It’s OK! I’m coming!’ she yelled, grabbing a sheet and, with swift presence of mind, ripping the bedside lamp away from its socket as a weapon.