A Husband's Vendetta

by Sara Wood

OK, she argued, strolling back to the office, there wasn’t anything she could—or should—do to curb Luc’s roving eye. And hands. She grimaced. But she wanted to know what was going on so she could be prepared for that day when he finally asked her for a divorce and began making plans for his second wedding.

  ‘Your transport manager,’ she said bluntly, when she returned. ‘She’s the one you took on holiday.’

  He finished checking a column of figures. ‘Jealous?’ he enquired, fixing her with an interested stare.

  That was too near the truth. She had to drop her gaze. ‘Huh!’

  He chuckled. ‘Lucia de Vecchi is Donatello’s married sister. That was her baby you saw this morning. We have dinner together sometimes—’

  ‘I know,’ she said grimly, before she could stop herself. ‘Doesn’t her husband mind?’

  ‘He’s dead. Cancer. Donatello and I take turns to amuse Lucia, to get her back into society again.’

  ‘Oh. Sorry.’

  ‘You’re dying to ask me something else,’ he said, amused.

  ‘All right, I will!’ Nothing venture, nothing gain. She had to know. ‘The woman you went to the Caribbean with—’

  ‘Donatello’s other sister. One of five of them altogether.’

  ‘Big family,’ she observed sulkily. ‘I suppose you take them all out to be even-handed.’

  He laughed softly. ‘Something like that. Remember that ’Tello is my closest friend. I think I told you that we grew up in Naples together—in the same tenement building in fact. Many’s the time we were back to back in a street fight, fending off a rival gang. His sisters are my sisters. Their troubles are mine. I’m a kind of…friendly uncle, dishing out advice, wiping away tears, offering jobs and playing best man at weddings. Or,’ he said more soberly, ‘offering consolation at funerals.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Is that all you can say?’

  She nodded, her eyes huge with sorrow. He was kind and loving and generous to everyone except her.

  ‘If you’re working here,’ he said gently, ‘sort out those files. If not, close the door quietly on your way out.’

  Her mouth twitched. She grabbed the files and shuffled them noisily. Luc ignored her and bent his head to his work, but she could see a smile fighting to emerge. And soon she was fully engrossed in the tasks he gave her, determined to prove that she was reliable and responsible and could do a good job.

  Her morning went too quickly and so did the next. The rest of the week passed like lightning. There were awkward moments: tense silences when she and Luc accidentally brushed past one another, or when they were enclosed in his office for more than half an hour. It was difficult not to be sexually aware of a man like Luc. And he clearly found it hard not to be aware of her.

  She, however, was so happy there that she was prepared to cope with these moments. To give Luc credit, he did his best to remain friendly but detached. Perhaps he knew she’d leave the minute he made a move on her. Whatever the reason, she was very grateful.

  Luc had all the qualities Toni had claimed. As the days went by, she began to assess what had happened to break their marriage up. He’d been misguided, over-eager to provide well for her and the coming baby, but he hadn’t been deliberately neglectful.

  And…she’d never told him that she felt deserted and lonely. How had he been supposed to know that she wasn’t behind him one hundred per cent of the way?

  When she’d been ill, no one had known what was happening to her, not even the doctors. Pressure had been on both of them. She couldn’t hold him to blame for being shocked and bewildered by her behaviour. Ellen sighed. It had been a mistake not to talk. She’d remember that in the future.

  And that future seemed promising. Her surroundings and the working atmosphere couldn’t be faulted. She liked everyone, and she and Luc strode to work each day talking nineteen to the dozen—which gave her a quiet, secret joy. And she was now included in the kisses and greetings from his friends and acquaintances, which meant she was beginning to feel very loved.

  Even her parents had sounded warm and welcoming when she’d spoken to them. She’d promised to call in to see them and had glossed over her whereabouts, intending to explain when they were all together. It wouldn’t do to alienate them with talk of Luc, just when there was a chance they could all be friends again.

  As for Gemma…she was so different that she and Luc marvelled at the change in her. To Ellen’s delight, she could now participate in all the things parents had to do, and it seemed that Gemma had totally accepted her. The two of them often sat together, drawing Luc, Maria, or anyone who would sit still long enough. Luc, of course, was impossible, and kept making funny faces which had them in stitches, but Ellen was thrilled with Gemma’s progress—and the fun they were having together.

  Dreamily she wandered home one day, after shopping for some new underwear. She bumped into Donatello, who’d returned from England two days earlier, and they walked back together.

  ‘I have something for you,’ he said, when they stopped by Luc’s gate. ‘I want to say I am sorry I have not welcomed you into Luc’s life. This is a gift to say how I feel.’

  Ellen took the small box with feelings of embarrassment. ‘You didn’t have to do this,’ she said awkwardly. ‘I understand you were protecting Luc from me. You’re his friend. You should… Oh, ’Tello!’ she cried in delight. ‘It’s lovely! But I can’t—’

  ‘Please accept it,’ he said quickly, taking the silver spider brooch and pinning it to her dress. ‘Wear it to show that you forgive me.’

  Her face softened with smiles. She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, touched by his thought and by his diffidence. ‘Thank you,’ she said warmly. ‘I will. See you tomorrow.’

  He smiled back. ‘Luc’s invited me to dinner.’

  ‘That’s lovely!’ she cried, and took his hand. ‘Come on. They’re having a swim.’

  Everything—almost everything, she amended—was wonderful! Bursting with happiness, she led Luc’s PA into the villa, eager to let Luc know that Donatello approved of her at last!

  But something odd happened. Instead of welcoming her, Gemma went very quiet and clung to Luc. There were no hysterics, only a quiet trembling which pained Ellen more than any yells or tantrums.

  Pacing up and down the drawing room while Donatello tried to make polite conversation, Ellen prayed that the bullying hadn’t started again.

  Her head jerked up when Luc appeared, looking worried. ‘You must speak to those girls again!’ she said in a pained voice. ‘They can’t be allowed to upset Gemma—’

  ‘It seemed,’ mused Donatello thoughtfully, ‘that she was afraid of you.’

  Ellen paused. ‘Yes. Perhaps they’ve been saying things about me. Luc, please do something! I won’t have them ruin my relationship with my child!’

  ‘I’ll go now,’ Luc said grimly. ‘Don’t worry,’ he added encouragingly, when she continued to prowl around the room in agitation. ‘I’ll sort those kids out once and for all.’ His soothing voice gentled. ‘It’s been good these past few days. I don’t want that spoilt either.’

  But spoilt it was. The two little girls, the school and Gemma herself denied there had been any bullying. Luc did everything in his power to get to the root of the trouble but nothing budged Gemma from her story.

  She, Petra and Miranda were best friends. And everything pointed to the truth of that.

  That night, Gemma’s nightmares began again. Ellen listened to her daughter’s cries and forced herself to stay in her room. But every nerve in her body was urging her to comfort her child. And when there was silence once more, she turned her face into her pillow and wept.

  For the next two days, Gemma ignored Ellen. Trying to accept Luc’s counsel of patience and a low profile, Ellen did her best not to take this personally. But she felt very low. If her child didn’t want her after all, what on earth was she doing on this island?

  Facing the unthinkable—leaving Capri, Gemma… Luc—she pu
t down the papers she’d been checking for Luc in the office and suddenly began to cry.

  ‘Ellen!’ he muttered in concern. Gently he drew her into his arms. ‘Don’t. I know how it must feel. Be patient. She’s confused about something—’

  ‘B-but…if she doesn’t want me…’ Too upset to continue, she buried her face in his shoulder.

  ‘She will,’ he promised, holding her fiercely.

  Her arms reached around his neck for comfort. Mournfully she mumbled, ‘I was so ha-a-appy, Luc! And every time I’m happy, something comes to kick me in the teeth!’

  ‘Hey!’ Smiling, he stepped back a little and caught her chin in the cradle of his hand. ‘No one’s going to kick you in the teeth.’ He paused, his eyes fixed on her trembling mouth. ‘Oh, Ellen! You’re irresistible!’ he groaned. And very tentatively he proved that by kissing her.

  She didn’t pull away. At that moment she wanted all the loving and caring he could give. Her mouth opened beneath his and she twisted her hands in his thick, sleek hair.

  The kiss deepened and became increasingly passionate. She knew she was breaking her promise to herself but she needed him. She wanted him, there and then. Slowly, utterly mesmerised, she watched while he undid the top button of her neat white shirt.

  ‘I’ve wanted to do this for so long. Spending the day with you has been agonising. I’ve thought about this every night,’ he breathed.

  Weakly she pushed at his shoulders, but it was a feeble, token attempt to resist him. Every night! If only she’d known, she wouldn’t have wasted her time counting so many maddeningly useless sheep!

  And then she heard the chatter of a fax machine outside and dragged her senses back into her brain. This was no solution. It would only cause more problems.

  ‘No,’ she said firmly, straining away from him.

  ‘Took you five buttons to protest,’ he murmured, his finger exploring the swell of her breast.

  ‘If you’re suggesting—’

  ‘Ellen,’ he said urgently, kissing her throat. ‘Let’s be practical. We’re living together. We need each other. Why not enjoy one another?’

  ‘Because—because…’

  His dark head lowered, cutting off her floundering. And, as his mouth teased her uplifted nipple into a hard, throbbing peak, she despaired that she wanted him more than her own sanity.

  Her body clung to his in an involuntary surrender, and he must have felt the softening of her tense muscles because he growled deep in his throat and raised his head to gaze intently into her eyes.

  ‘You know I can’t stay away from you,’ he said shakily.

  Lightly his mouth brushed her temple. She quivered when he stroked the nape of her neck and inhaled the perfume of her hair. When she remained silent and tense, he took her hand and kissed her fingers reverently. And then he touched her lips with his again, very gently, tasting the warm softness of her mouth.

  She loved him so much. Her eyes closed in a wash of pleasure to be in his arms again. Slowly, kissing and murmuring endearments all the time, he pushed her back to the desk till its hard edge brought her to a halt. And then he bent her back, his mouth ravaging her throat and breasts while she whimpered her encouragement.

  They were aware of nothing but one another. The raw, pulsating ache in Ellen’s body was too compelling to deny, and Luc’s gentleness became a savage urgency in response to the demand of her frantic hands and mouth.

  ‘Ahem!’

  They froze at the sound of an embarrassed masculine cough. Luc stared at her in bewilderment and then came to his senses, drawing her upright and placing her behind him.

  ‘Donatello!’ he said in relief. He gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘Thank God it was you!’

  Ellen hid behind Luc’s broad back, wishing it hadn’t been anyone. Crimson with humiliation, she dragged her shirt into place, finding it impossible to do her buttons up because her fingers were shaking too much.

  ‘…or I wouldn’t have come. But I think you should see her,’ he was saying stiffly.

  Ellen wasn’t paying much attention. She was trying to haul her body back to earth. And push a scrap of plastic into a neat hole. Buttons, she thought testily, were more trouble than they were worth.

  Luc listened to Donatello, his mind refusing to hear what his friend was saying. Ellen wouldn’t hurt Gemma!

  ‘It’s not true!’ he cried, switching to Italian so that she couldn’t understand.

  ‘Luc, we’ve been together a long time. You know you can trust me,’ Donatello said. ‘I’ve talked to Gemma. I guarantee that when you see her she’ll bear out what I’m saying. Ellen has frightened her. Perhaps unwittingly,’ he admitted, ‘but Maria can confirm that Ellen has been filling her head with stories about ghosts and witches, and now Gemma fears that monsters are waiting around every corner. She’s absolutely petrified, Luc. Almost hyperventilating. Maria has called the doctor, she was so terrified of Gemma’s mental condition.’

  Anguish ripped through Luc’s body. His poor baby! ‘No. There’s a mistake,’ he whispered. This was the woman he’d almost made love to just now. She couldn’t be that stupid, that unthinking.

  ‘Go home,’ urged Donatello. ‘Take Ellen. See Gemma’s reaction.’

  He nodded numbly. His friend was wrong. Someone else had planted those stories, if stories there were.

  ‘We’re going home,’ he said huskily, turning to Ellen.

  She blushed, still fiddling with her buttons. ‘We can’t, Luc! We’re supposed to be working!’ she whispered.

  ‘Here.’ Quite controlled and detached now, knowing that his child needed him to be calm, he fastened them for her. ‘It’s an emergency. Donatello says Gemma has been sent home. What are you doing?’ he finished irritably.

  ‘Searching for my spider brooch. Oh, Luc, we must hurry! Can we take a taxi?’

  He gave Donatello a quick glance. That wasn’t the reaction of a woman out to ruin her daughter’s emotions. ‘Sure. Coming, ’Tello? I want you to be there.’

  ‘So do I,’ his friend replied grimly. ‘So do I.’

  It was only a short while later that he walked into the kitchen with Ellen and Donatello, whereupon Gemma twisted in Maria’s arms, her face tear-stained, her huge eyes fixed on her mother in abject terror. He went cold to the bone.

  ‘Sweetheart—!’ Ellen cried, taking a faltering, bewildered step forward.

  With a sob, Gemma fled upstairs, shouting something about a witch. ‘Go to her!’ he said in a choked voice to Maria.

  It was true, then. God help Ellen. Ashen-faced, he faced the inevitable. She would have to go.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE doctor arrived. Ellen waited in the kitchen, desperate to know what was wrong with her daughter.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she begged Donatello. ‘I haven’t understood anything anyone’s said—’

  ‘You’ve frightened her,’ he said brusquely. ‘Told her stories about witches. She thinks you’re a witch, Ellen.’ He sat down across the table from her and leaned forwards. ‘You’ll have to go. Luc won’t allow you to stay now.’

  She stared at him open-mouthed. ‘I haven’t frightened her—’

  ‘You damn well have!’ roared Luc from the doorway. ‘Where did you get that brooch, Ellen?’

  ‘What?’ she asked in bewilderment.

  ‘God!’ Luc strode over and tore it from her, ripping her shirt.

  ‘Now just a minute—!’

  ‘Sit down!’ Luc’s hand came down on her shoulder. ‘It’s a magic brooch, according to Gemma,’ he ground out, his furious face close to hers. ‘The sort witches wear. And God knows, I’m inclined to agree with her!’

  Ellen’s mind raced. And made a crucial connection. Donatello had given her that brooch… Gemma had been terrified of her before. The time Donatello had carried Gemma into the café, kicking and screaming. And Ellen had dismissed the silly impression that Gemma had looked at her as though she were a witch.

  She tensed, all her faculties alert.
This was Donatello’s doing. She lifted her head high, appalled that someone who loved Luc should be so devious and risk hurting his beloved child.

  ‘Donatello gave the brooch to me,’ she said, tremors of intense anger making her voice unsteady. ‘I wouldn’t dream of telling Gemma spooky stories. If you talk to her I think you’ll find that Donatello is behind this—’

  ‘That’s it!’ roared Luc, his temper exploding. ‘You behave irresponsibly and frighten my child and then you put the blame on the man I trust above everyone—’

  ‘I’m telling the truth!’ she yelled.

  ‘Truth?’ he scathed. ‘You don’t know what the hell that is! Why would Donatello want to frighten Gemma? He loves her! He knows about children—a damn sight more than you do—’

  ‘I wouldn’t hurt her!’ she protested in a horrified whisper.

  ‘You have. By God, you have! I want you out of here. You’ve got an hour.’ Contempt in every line of his face, he pulled out his wallet and threw a bundle of notes on the table. ‘Find somewhere to stay tonight and then get off this island!’

  Barely in control, he turned on his heel and stormed off up the stairs.

  Shaking with emotion, Ellen stared at the money.

  ‘Time to go,’ murmured Donatello.

  ‘Hell!’ she raged suddenly. ‘I won’t let you do this to me! What do you have against me? What have I ever done to you?’

  He looked her up and down without concealing his scorn. ‘You are bad for Luc.’

  She jerked her head up with pride. ‘Oh, no, I’m not! I make him feel good!’

  ‘Wrong.’ Donatello leaned forwards, his loathing plain to see. ‘When Gemma went to visit you, I saw that Luc hated it. I love him, Ellen. He is like my brother. I would do anything for him. And I had to help him to forget you.’

  She gazed at him, appalled. ‘So you filled Gemma’s head with tales about me—as soon as she could understand what you were saying! You poisoned her mind against me years ago!’ Ellen could hardly breathe. This was a terrible kind of love.

  ‘I know it was wrong. I know it upset her,’ he admitted in a low tone.