Next day, Randal took her to see ancient Rome. The Forum was virtually intact, semi-ruined buildings strewn with grass and wild flowers, the triumphal arch at the end of the long main street evoking visual images of Caesar, Mark Antony and all the great Roman figures leading processions through the streets.
‘I can almost hear them gossiping,’ Lucy said lightly. ‘Talking about Mark Antony running off with that Egyptian woman...’
‘Lovers have been the same since the dawn of time,’ Randal drawled. ‘Passionate, obsessive, causing scandal and sometimes tragedy.’
The sun was hot on her face. ‘Was Apollonia your lover?’
He laughed under his breath. ‘Your eyes are going green again,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘But don’t change it. I like to see your jealousy. It’s so very exciting.’
Lucy tensed angrily, walking slowly along the ancient Roman streets beside him. ‘I’m not jealous, Randal,’ she said tightly, smiling.
‘You wouldn’t mind if I went to bed with her tonight, then?’ he drawled with a barbed edge to his voice, his smile hard.
‘Of course not,’ she said, smiling through waves of acid pain.
‘Then why did you make those demands last night?’ he drawled sardonically. ‘If I remember rightly, you said you wouldn’t allow me to have mistresses.’
Jealous pain flared in her. ‘I’m your wife now. I have a certain position to maintain. Particularly in the public eye. If you had mistresses, people would find out, and I would be humiliated.’
He halted, his blue eyes hard. ‘Nothing personal, then?’
She stopped too, face calm. ‘Nothing at all.’
There was a silence. The sun blazed down over them. Lucy studied his tough, tanned face but saw no emotion. That hurt, and she turned from him, moving towards a ruined building with pillars, where grass and wild flowers grew up between the ancient stones that had once been a temple.
‘Not that way,’ Randal drawled coolly. ‘You don’t belong in there any more.’
Lucy frowned, turning, a question in her eyes.
‘It’s the Temple of Vesta,’ he mocked softly. ‘Virgins only.’
She looked away, eyes blinded by the beauty of Rome and the pain in her heart. How she hated him. And her hatred was growing, changing, becoming unbearable—like an unleashed flood-tide of emotion that she could no longer control.
Struggling to remain in control of her emotions, she focused her attention on Rome. It really was the most marvellous city. It really was pulling her deeper into love with its ancient heart. And there were so many facets of it. Catholic Rome soared in gleaming white stone next door. Modern Rome was there too, fighting for space, with office blocks, cars and technology.
‘How can it all still be here?’ she said tensely to change the subject. ‘Ancient Rome, modern Rome, Catholic Rome...’
‘They just didn’t knock anything down.’ Randal seemed as in need of a change of subject as she, his voice curiously distant.
‘All side by side.’ Lucy’s voice trembled. ‘Three cities. Like a multiple personality living side by side in complicated harmony.’
‘Yes,’ he said darkly, eyes gleaming with some unfathomable emotion. ‘Bloody complicated.’ He took her wrist. ‘Come on. Let’s see the Colosseum. It’s just at the end of this street.’
As they walked into the stone, honeycombed canyons of the Colosseum, Lucy could almost imagine she heard the faded cheer of the crowds, saw the lions, the Christians and the spilt blood.
Emotions were crashing in on her. No matter how hard she fought, some final, devastating ingredient in the hot sun on the ancient stone and the bloody history of this monument seemed to fuse in her soul to force the truth into her heart like a dagger.
I’m in love with Randal, she thought, swaying with a shocked gasp. I’ve fallen in love with him.
‘Oh, no!’ she whispered through pale lips, and felt sweat spring out on her forehead. ‘No...!’
Randal steadied her with a frown. ‘Are you all right?’
Breathless, appalled, she stared into his strong dark face and the tidal wave of feelings finally broke through, engulfing her in the love she had felt for him all along. It had been dammed up for so long, and she had fought it with every ounce of strength, but now the barriers had broken and it was filling her bloodstream, a rush of love to the heart.
‘Lucy?’ His voice was sharp. ‘Is it the heat? The crowds?’
She just stared at him, speechless, her eyes tracing his features as though seeing him for the first time.
His mouth hardened. ‘Let’s get out of here. There are too many damned tourists...’ He led her forcefully through the crowds, out of the Colosseum and on to the streets. Two policemen on white horses clip-clopped past in blue-grey uniform. Randal darted past them, hailed a taxi and took her back to the hotel.
When they reached their hotel suite, Randal closed the door. ‘Lucy, what on earth is wrong?’ he asked flatly. ‘Something happened back there in the Colosseum. What was it?’
She averted her gaze, flushing.
His hand caught her chin, forced her to face him. ‘Tell me,’ he commanded.
She looked at him, startled and wary. A reply was necessary. It would have to be a good one. She racked her brains, heart thumping very fast.
‘I couldn’t help thinking of the Christians thrown to the lions,’ she blurted out on a wave of inspiration, ‘and comparing it to the way you destroyed poor Edward!’
His face tightened. ‘My God,’ he bit out, eyes violent-blue. ‘Will you never get that little bastard out of your head?’
She gave a hysterical laugh. He had believed her, and she almost wept with relief.
‘Don’t laugh like that!’ he said savagely, his fingers tightening painfully on her chin. ‘I told you before we left that Edward Blair had ripped your father off to the tune of at least a million!’
‘What...!’ she gasped, staring at him, her face white.
‘His Park Lane apartment. His Lamborghini.’ The blue eyes threw contempt at her. ‘What the hell did you think I was trying to tell you? That he’d suddenly inherited a fortune from his long-lost auntie?’
Dry-mouthed with horror, she suddenly saw it was true, but was trapped in her own deception, and had no option but to say, ‘I don’t believe you! I’ll never believe you!’ although, of course, she believed every word now.
‘Well, that just proves that I married you for your body,’ he said bitingly. ‘Because there’s precious little in your mind to attract me!’ His hands shot to her shoulders, dragging her towards him forcefully. ‘And now I think I’ll just get my money’s worth.’
As his hard mouth closed over hers she was already dizzy, a moan of pleasure coming from the back of her throat as he tilted her head back to receive that masterful kiss. Her arms wound around his neck. She was curving against his hard body, her pulses hammering.
Randal lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. ‘I’ll drive him out of you!’ he said thickly as he laid her down, arched over her, his powerful body strong against hers. ‘By the time this honeymoon is over, you’ll have forgotten you ever knew that bastard Blair!’
Lucy submitted eagerly, her head swimming as he pressed her back into the pillows, undressing her as the kiss blazed on and on, and when they were both naked he took her, eliciting cries of ecstasy from her as his hard hands and body wrung torturous pleasure from her.
Later, as she lay gasping against his naked shoulder, she saw Rome glittering in the sunshine beyond her window, and knew she would forever see it as a symbol of her love for this complex, multi-faceted man who was her husband.
Her love for Edward was suddenly laid bare to her. It was a habit—nothing more. Something she had simply accepted from childhood, grown accustomed to, and eventually been blinded by. He had simply always been there, and she had loved him without ever questioning who he really was.
Now that she was in love with Randal, she could stand back and see Edward fr
om an objective viewpoint. Everything Randal said made sense. Of course Edward had been stealing money from her father. Why else would he have delayed his marriage to her? Why else would he have disappeared once the money was gone?
Anger rose up in her. Edward was vile, loathsome, a creep and a liar. She couldn’t let him get away with it. She would go to see him when she got back to London, and confront him with this.
But she would never be able to tell Randal.
Her only defence against Randal lay in Edward. He must never guess that she had stopped loving Edward. If he guessed that, he would guess the reason why—himself.
Randal had transformed her into a woman. Edward had tried to keep her as a child. Dependent, obedient, unquestioning, she had given Edward everything and demanded nothing in return.
Randal had freed her...but now she was trapped in a passionate love for him that she could never reveal.
CHAPTER NINE
THE rest of the honeymoon passed in much the same way. Randal took her sightseeing continually, showing her as many facets of Rome as possible. He was an intelligent and amusing guide, reeling off facts in that cool, clever voice and making her laugh with his wicked wit.
She was becoming a creature of the senses, longing for the moments when they were alone together, late at night, and he took her in his arms. He was a drug to her system, and her blood would race at the merest touch, the hint of a kiss.
He made her feel so beautiful, so sensual, so much a woman. Her body clamoured for his touch, she was greedily passionate, craving lovemaking like the whore he had said she was.
By the time they flew back to London, Lucy was a sunflushed beauty with tousled blonde hair, a love-bruised mouth and a penchant for off-the-shoulder clothes.
A limousine met them at the airport and drove them straight to Mallory. She felt a strange sense of alarm, staring out at England’s green fields. It was late August, sunny and bright—but this was reality, and she did not know how she would cope with life with a man who did not love her.
Mallory was cool white, framed against a halcyon blue sky, as they drove up the long drive. The grass was very green, red roses grew in vivid colour against the white walls and a gardener was driving around on a red buggy lawn-mower, curving lined patterns on the lawns.
‘Darlings!’ Edwina was radiant in a purple sun-dress as she greeted them from the drawing-room terrace. ‘You’re just in time for afternoon tea! Come and join us!’
Randal directed the chauffeur to take their cases up. Then he walked with Lucy across the neat lawn, the scent of fresh-mown grass heady in the hot afternoon.
‘My dear, let me look at you!’ Edwina said, holding Lucy at arm’s length. ‘Well, I never! Randal has positively transformed you!’
Lucy flushed deeply, darting a sharp glance at her dark, handsome husband. Was her love becoming obvious? Had Randal himself begun to suspect her new feelings?
‘Doesn’t she look lovely?’ Edwina asked her husband James.
‘Ravishing,’ James agreed, looming over her with that silver hair and piercing blue eyes. ‘And every inch a female Mallory.’
‘My dear.’ Edwina patted her hand. ‘Sit down and tell me all about Rome.’
Lucy latched on to the subject with relief. Animatedly, she talked about the city, trying to make it look as though the combination of Rome and the sun had wrought this apparently obvious change in her. If Randal suspected for one second that it was him, he would guess that she loved him, and the humiliation of that was more than she could bear.
‘Did you throw a coin in the Trevi Fountain?’ James Marlborough asked with a lazy smile.
‘Yes.’ Lucy dimpled. ‘Randal said you had to throw it backwards, and I couldn’t get the hang of it.’
‘She ended up throwing a small fortune over her shoulder,’ Randal drawled. ‘I got a photo of her looking rather het-up about it all.’
‘Then I leant on that taxi.’ Lucy groaned at the memory.
‘And the alarm went off.’ Randal laughed. ‘Yes, I got a photo of that, too.’
Lucy bit her lip. ‘That alarm was ear-splitting and everyone was staring at me. I felt such a fool.’
They sounded like any happy couple returning from their honeymoon. But, of course, the truth was far from that. The only moments of emotion Randal had shown her were when he was making love to her. Apart from when they were in bed together, he had remained the cynical, ruthless and very dangerous man he had been all along—one who did not love her, and had married her only for sex.
‘We’ll go up and rest now before dinner,’ Randal said at five, getting to his feet. ‘Will you be eating in, Mama?’
‘On your first night home?’ Edwina laughed. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Welcome home, both of you. This is a new era for Mallory and I couldn’t be more delighted.’
Lucy smiled and followed Randal into the house. He led the way, and she was astonished by her feelings for Mallory. Was this vast palatial manor to be her home? It seemed incredible. Suddenly, she felt out of her depth, frowning as Randal strode ahead of her and pushed open the double doors of the master bedroom.
She had seen the master bedroom once, briefly, before they were married. It had alarmed her then, with its stark masculine décor, the dark browns and rich deep reds, the polished oak floor and silk rugs, the tapestries around that magnificent carved four-poster bed and the high, cavernous ceiling with its glittering crystal chandelier.
‘You become mistress here tomorrow,’ Randal said coolly, watching her. ‘My mother will hand over the reins of power in the morning.’
She made a face. ‘I don’t know how to begin running a house the size of Mallory. I don’t even know how many rooms there are.’
‘Forty-seven,’ he drawled with a slow, curving smile. ‘And my mother will help you find your feet. She’s been running the place since I bought it a few years ago.’
Lucy studied him, green eyes secretly admiring. ‘What do you do with all the other rooms? You hardly need them.’
‘I think about them,’ he drawled cynically. ‘And remember that I was brought up in a two-bedroom flat. It makes me feel good, you see, to get what I want in the end. However long it takes me to get it.’
Her pulses skipped. ‘Does that include me, Randal?’
‘Of course,’ he said softly, mockingly.
She shivered. He was so formidable. Everything had happened just as he wanted it. He possessed her utterly now. She was his wife and mistress in every sense, even though she had initially refused him, just as Mallory had been out of his reach. He had won both by sheer force of ambition and desire. He would always win...
Much later, they dressed and went down to dinner. Edwina and James were waiting for them in the drawing-room.
‘Mrs Travers is a gem of a housekeeper,’ Edwina confided over dinner.
‘I find her rather intimidating,’ Lucy confessed with a grimace.
‘Oh, she is,’ agreed Edwina, laughing. ‘That’s why she’s so marvellous. Whips the rest of the staff into shape, takes no nonsense and follows orders to the letter.’
Lucy’s eyes widened. ‘You mean all I have to do is give orders?’
‘Of course!’
Would she be happy here, though? she wondered. Running a house full of servants, married to a man who did not love her? A sigh broke her lips. If only she could have children...surely that would change things for her?
Later, they went upstairs to the master bedroom, and as Randal closed the door behind him she felt the tension descend between them, his blue eyes following her as she walked across the room.
‘Will you be here tomorrow?’ she murmured, trying to break the silence, ‘to help me find my feet as mistress of Mallory?’
‘No,’ he drawled sardonically. ‘I’ll be going to work.’
‘London?’ she asked at once.
‘Newmarket. But I’ll drive to London later to check on the casino.’
‘So you won’t come home till lat
e?’ she asked carefully, thinking she might take the opportunity to confront Edward.
There was a tense silence. He was very still, his eyes narrowed on her face.
‘I—I just want to know when to expect you home,’ she said unconvincingly and lowered her lashes, a flush rising in her cheeks.
He gave her a savage smile. ‘You mean you want to pay a visit to Edward Blair at his Park Lane apartment!’
‘No, of course not!’ she denied hotly, blushing scarlet.
‘Not much!’ he drawled bitingly, and strode towards her. ‘You can’t wait, can you? You haven’t stopped thinking about him since he walked off with all your father’s money and left you!’
‘I don’t want to talk about Edward with you!’ She lifted her chin.
He caught her shoulders in a vicious grip. ‘We’ve only been back in England five minutes, and already we’re talking about that—’
‘Randal, you’re hurting me!’ she protested, struggling.
‘Good,’ he said viciously. ‘I want to. It’s obviously what you like. Blair’s a swine from way back; all he does is hurt you, and you can’t keep your stupid mind off him! Well, don’t you worry, my darling, I’ll be a bastard for you tonight.’
‘No, don’t...!’ she broke out, seeing the dark rage in his eyes.
‘I insist!’ His hand took the front of her dress and tore it in one violent movement, eyes blazing as he bit out thickly, ‘Just for you!’
‘Oh, God...’ she whispered thickly, swaying, her blood pulsing with intolerable desire as she felt his blue eyes move over her bare breasts and silk briefs where the torn dress laid her bare.
‘Oh, yes, I knew you’d love it,’ he said thickly against her ear, pulling her struggling body back towards the bed. ‘If a bastard is what you want, a bastard is what you’ll get tonight.’ He threw her on the bed. ‘With pleasure!’
Lucy fell on to the bed with a gasp and he ripped the dress from her body, hands moving punishingly over her, making her moan hoarsely, her hands pushing at his broad shoulders as he stripped her naked, his face a primitive mask of hatred and desire.
He didn’t undress, just pushed his clothing aside and took her brutally, bruising her soft skin as his hands roved over her breasts and buttocks as he drove into her, and to her everlasting humiliation she reached a wild ecstasy very quickly, gasping out his name as her body writhed in hot spasms against him.
Extreme Provocation Page 13