‘Well, it certainly isn’t mine!’ Sofia’s cheeks had turned quite white with anger. ‘How dare you?’ she spat at him. ‘This is outrageous!’
Damiano seemed quite unconcerned. He sat down on the edge of the bed and proceeded, one by one, to pull off his shoes. ‘I’m going to have a shower now.’ As though she might actually be interested! Then he looked up into her ashen face. ‘Don’t worry,’ he reassured her. ‘We have separate bathrooms and separate dressing rooms. All perfectly civilised. It’s only the bed we’ll be sharing.’
‘We’ll be doing no such thing!’ Sofia fixed him with a frozen look. Her hands were hard, tight fists at her sides. Then a thought occurred to her. ‘So this,’ she challenged him, ‘is the secret ace you were feeling so pleased about?’ And as he flicked her an amused smile she knew she was right. ‘Well, it won’t work. I’ll sleep elsewhere. In the bathroom, if I have to.’
‘I’m sure there’s no need for that.’ Damiano was loosening his tie now. ‘It’s a very big bed. There’s more than enough room for both of us.’
‘You think you’re very clever.’ His careless smugness was maddening. ‘You think you’ve tricked me. Well, it’s going to get you nowhere.’ As he slipped off his tie, she continued to glare at him, wishing she could just walk over and strangle him with it. ‘There’s no way I’ll be getting into that bed with you!’
‘We’ll see.’
‘We’ll see nothing! You can take my word for it!’ Sofia was so mad she was literally shaking with anger. Then, as he started unbuttoning his shirt, she broke off and demanded, ‘Since you have a dressing room of your own, why don’t you use it? I have no wish to be subjected to some damned striptease!’
In the face of her fury, Damiano simply glanced up and smiled at her. ‘OK,’ he said, pulling his shirt from his trousers and standing up unhurriedly from the edge of the bed. ‘Though I wasn’t actually planning a striptease at the moment.’ He threw her a wicked wink. ‘I was saving that for later.’
He was insufferable. Sofia glared at him, shooting poisoned daggers from her eyes as he walked past her unconcernedly, heading for his dressing room.
‘Don’t bother,’ she snarled. ‘There won’t be a later.’
But in spite of her fury she had to concentrate quite hard to stop her gaze being drawn to the open front of his shirt and the tantalising expanse of naked hard brown chest.
Fortunately, the threat of Damiano receded as the day progresses, and for the most part Sofia didn’t give him another thought. For one thing she was far too busy, for after a quick informal lunch they were plunged into a hectic round of appointments.
For Sofia there was a visit to a hospital in Battersea where she chatted to the staff and took tea with some of the patients. Then she was whisked off to see the smart new development at Chelsea Harbour and, finally, before returning to the embassy, she dropped in briefly to admire an exhibition of paintings by the famous San Rinaldo painter Riccio Ricci which had recently opened at the ICA.
Damiano had his own, equally busy schedule and their paths weren’t due to cross again until dinner at Buckingham Palace that evening—which was another reason why Sofia was able to shut him out of her mind. And. in fact, as it turned out, she didn’t actually set eyes on him until she emerged from her dressing room all coiffed and ready, thanks to the ministrations of Angela and Maurice, the two members of her staff who accompanied her everywhere.
‘Ah, there you are.’ Damiano, who was dressed in a black dinner suit, cast an admiring glance over her gorgeous teal silk ballgown and the magnificent sapphire necklace that had been one of his wedding presents to her. ‘I wasn’t sure if you were back,’ he smiled. ‘I thought maybe you’d run off.’
‘And why would I run off?’ Sofia arched one mock-curious eyebrow, for she knew exactly what he was getting at. ‘Because of you, you mean?’ she queried. ‘Well, I’m not afraid of you.’
And besides, she was thinking, she had noted with some relief that in one corner of her dressing room there was a most comfortable-looking day-bed. So that conveniently took care of her sleeping arrangements for the next three nights!
Damiano was still smiling as he continued to watch her, letting his black-as-ink gaze travel unhurriedly over her. And there was a relaxed air about him, no hint of threat in his manner. Clearly, he was in a good mood—and so was she, Sofia reflected. It had been a tiring but enormously enjoyable day.
He said, ‘You’re looking even lovelier than usual.’ Then he glanced down at her foot, hidden beneath the long full skirt of her dress. ‘How’s the ankle bearing up?’
‘It’s been fine. No trouble at all. Barely a twinge.’
‘Has the doctor been to see you?’
‘Yes. He gave me another injection.’
‘Good. Well, at least you’ll be able to rest it during dinner.’ Then he glanced at his watch. ‘I reckon we ought to be moving. Are you ready? Shall we go?’ He offered her his arm. ‘Simply to save your foot,’ he smiled, as she was about to refuse it. ‘You can lean your weight on me. I promise there’s no ulterior motive.’
But as Sofia accepted the offer, reflecting that she rather liked him in this mellow mood, which happily reminded her of the early days of their marriage, he caught her eye and held it for a moment. ‘Like I told you, I’m saving the seduction for later.’
‘Don’t even think of it!’
Instantly, she liked him a great deal less. Thank heavens for the day-bed, she consoled herself gratefully, and for the fact that her dressing-room door boasted a nice stout lock!
Dinner was a grand affair, truly magnificent, with various members of the British royal family present, as well as the Prime Minister and his wife and the San Rinaldo ambassador and his. And Sofia found herself having a thoroughly good time. For once, she was actually feeling as radiant as she looked.
There were a lot of reasons for this. In part, the exciting day she’d had. In part, the sheer pleasure of the present company and surroundings. But the biggest part of all, though she was reluctant to admit this, was the thrill of being half of a couple again with Damiano.
Apart from that night at the opera, it was such a long time since they’d been anywhere or done anything together in company that she’d forgotten just how much she used to enjoy it. How alive he made her feel, how proud to be a part of him, how thrilled to be the wife of such a stunningly attractive man.
She flicked a glance to where he sat across the table from her chatting and laughing with his illustrious- neighbours. It was little wonder she had once loved him as desperately as she had. Blindly. Helplessly. Making him the centre of her universe. There were so few men like Damiano. She had never met another. Men who made you weep with pleasure just to look at them, men who with a mere glance could stir in your heart a passion that, if you let it, would make you its slave for ever.
No, it was all too easy to understand that past madness and to understand, too, why she had never stopped loving him, why she still felt herself drawn by his powerful bright allure. That magic he possessed. That air of ruthlessness and danger. The shimmering sexuality and potent charisma that were making her the envy of every other woman in the room!
That thought brought her back to a more mundane reality. Their envy was misplaced, for she would not be partaking of his charms tonight. Not tonight nor any other night. That was a fact. And she thought again with deep gratitude of her private little dressing room with the bed in one corner and the nice stout lock on the door. Damiano would be far from pleased, of course, but that was really just too bad.
And, at last, the moment was drawing near.
Just before midnight they said goodnight to their hosts and were driven the short hop back to the embassy. Then they were climbing from the limo, heading through the embassy front door and suddenly Sofia was seized by a rush of panic. But she stifled it instantly. There was no cause for panic. She knew what she had to do and she would do it. Come what may.
As they headed for the staircase that led to thei
r first-floor suite, she had another bad moment as Damiano laid a hand on her waist, observing, ‘Let me help you take some of the weight off that foot.’
But she simply told him, ‘It’s all right. I can manage, thanks.’ And with a cool, careful smile she removed the offending hand. Undoubtedly, she would have managed a great deal better with his help, but this was not the time to be encouraging physical contact!
He did not insist. ‘OK. You know best.’ But though she did not look at him as they headed upstairs Sofia could feel that he was smiling.
He’s just waiting till we’re in our suite, then he’ll start turning on the pressure. This thought sent a fresh throb of anxiety through her. But there’s no way I’ll give in, she vowed. I’ll fight him with my fists if I have to!
The lamps in their sitting room had all been switched on, bathing the room in a warm, rosy light. And the door that led through to the bedroom stood open, seeming to beckon them into the even more softly lit room beyond.
Sofia found her gaze drifting there as Damiano closed the sitting-room door behind them, and just for an instant she felt a sharp thrust of yearning. It was so long since she had shared a bed with Damiano, experienced the excitement of that powerful, virile body. She felt her breath catch and desire twist like a knife in her loins.
At once she snatched her gaze away and squashed that treacherous feeling. ‘Damiano.’ She turned to tell him what she’d decided about their sleeping arrangements. ‘Damiano, I—’
But that was as far as she got, for suddenly he’d caught hold of her, his hands on her waist. ‘Don’t look so startled,’ he smiled. ‘I’m not going to eat you.’
Sofia did not suppose he was, but as she stood there, heart racing, being eaten was really not what she was afraid of. What frightened her were two things: that look in his eyes and the way her flesh had leapt with excited pleasure at the touch of him. She tried to move out of his embrace, but found she could not. Every muscle in her body seemed to have frozen solid.
‘Do you know what I was thinking this evening at dinner?’
As he spoke again, Sofia could feel the dark eyes on her. But she did not meet them. She did not dare to. For she knew how seductive they could be. Instead, she kept her gaze fixed unblinkingly on his bow-tie and concentrated on trying to regain control of her frozen body.
‘I was thinking,’ he continued, ‘that you were the most beautiful woman in the room. I kept glancing across at you and feeling proud that you were my wife.’
Sofia did look up then—a look of sheer disbelief. She certainly hadn’t been aware of him glancing across at her and since when had the word proud, in relation to her, entered his vocabulary? She was about to say as much, but the look in his eyes silenced her. They were black pools of temptation and suddenly all she wanted was to drown in them.
‘Did you?’ she found herself answering foolishly instead.
‘Yes, I did.’ He smiled at her and looked into her eyes a moment, making her feel as though the ground was opening up beneath her and all she desired was to close her eyes and just let herself fall. ‘I’m beginning to realise I’m married to a very special girl.’
And he reached up suddenly, drawing her closer as he did so, to curl a loose strand of red-gold hair around his finger. ‘I wonder how come I never realised it before?’
Sofia had no answer to that and, even if she had, she couldn’t have spoken. Her tongue had been torn out and buried on some far distant planet. She just stared at him, filled with fear and burning excitement.
‘What serious blue eyes.’
He continued to gaze down at her, a half-smile on his lips as his fingers caressed her hair now, lightly, unhurriedly, making her heart leap.
‘Behind those serious blue eyes I wonder what you’re thinking?’
Sofia could not have told him that either. She wasn’t even sure she was thinking. All she knew was the confusion of feelings that swarmed through her. In reply, she shook her head and swallowed hard.
He let his hand trickle round to the back of her neck, lacing with her hair, almost making her gasp. And she had to fight not to let her head fall back against his hand, to suppress the shiver of yearning that went rocketing through her. But perhaps he felt it anyway, for something flickered in his eyes, and a moment later, his grip on her tightening, he was bending to kiss her.
How many times had Sofia recalled the magic of his kiss as she had lain alone in her bed at the Palazzo Verde? A hundred times? A thousand times at least—until she had forced herself to cease such self-destructive masochism. For to recall that magic kiss was to die a thousand deaths. To remember a paradise, briefly tasted, from which she had forever been banished.
And now, as ever so gently his lips pressed down on hers, in a rush of fierce sensation she stepped through the forbidden gates again. She could smell him, she could taste him, she could feel the heat of him consume her. She could feel the passion and power of him take hold of her and conquer her. And her heart wept for the sheer beauty of the sensations that poured through her.
His arms were round her, holding her tightly. She could feel the virile strength of him thrusting against her. And as she clung to him she was drowning in a sea of helpless pleasure. How could I have lived for all those lonely months without him? she was wondering. How could I have endured so barren an existence for so long?
He drew back a little and looked down at her, dark eyes burning like hot cinders. And Sofia knew what he was about to do. He was about to carry her to the bed, strip her naked and make slow, fierce love to her. At that thought her limbs went slack. She felt a liquid heat possess her and mingle with a sudden quick stab of fear. Dared she let it happen? Did she have the will or the strength to resist?
But these questions were destined never to be answered, for the things she had imagined did not happen at all. He did not pick her up and he did not carry her to the bed. He did not strip her naked and he did not make love to her. Instead, kissing the top of her head, he told her softly, ‘I think we ought to say goodnight now. We’ve both got a long day ahead tomorrow.’ Then as she frowned, not quite certain that she’d actually heard right, he added, ‘I’ll sleep in my dressing room. I think that’s best.’
Sofia blinked at him. ‘OK.’ She could scarcely believe what she was hearing. And as to her own feelings...well, she couldn’t sort them out at all. Part of her felt relieved. Another part disappointed. But, most of all, she just felt totally thrown.
The feeling stayed with her as she lay in bed later. Why had he drawn back? After all, she hadn’t protested. Had he suddenly thought of Fiona, the woman he loved? And, thinking of her, had he realised he didn’t want Sofia, after all?
That thought stuck in her head and though she knew it shouldn’t matter, that she should simply feel glad to have made such a lucky escape, to have been rejected because of Fiona felt like the cruellest blow of all. Far too cruel to endure. It pierced her to her soul.
Sofia couldn’t have been more wrong in believing that Damiano hadn’t wanted her, as she would have realised had she been able to see him lying sleepless next door. His desire for her had been ferocious and it still throbbed and ached within him in spite of the long cold shower he had taken. It had taken every single ounce of his legendary will-power to release her and walk away like that.
But he had had no choice. What else could he have done, feeling, as he had, the ambivalence in her? Part of her had wanted him. There had been no doubt about that. But another part, he had sensed, was holding back. At the last minute she would have said no, pulled away, tried to stop him, so it had been far better to halt things at once, before they went too far.
He tossed and turned on the bed, fighting the hard heat of his desire which had surprised him a little by its intensity, for he had not expected to want her quite so badly. Of course it had occurred to him as he kissed her that he might manage to persuade her, that if he tried he might very well overcome her resistance. But he had rejected that temptation. That was not ho
w he wanted it to happen. Call it male pride, but when he finally made love to his wife again he wanted her to surrender without doubts or hesitation. Wanting him as surely and as desperately as he wanted her.
He smiled a wry smile. He would sleep little tonight, but it would scarcely be the first sleepless night she had caused him. And soon, he was sure of it, the waiting would be over and there would be another kind of sleepless night on the menu.
Yes, soon, he promised himself. Very, very soon.
CHAPTER SIX
‘WHAT an absolutely marvellous day I’ve just had!’
As Sofia walked into the sitting room and slipped off her jacket, Damiano was seated at the Queen Anne desk in one corner dressed in a burgundy Paisley silk dressing gown and studying the speech he was due to give at the dinner that evening.
He glanced up to look at her, at her pink-cheeked, glowing face. ‘So,’ he observed, smiling, ‘you enjoyed your tea with the Queen?’
‘I certainly did. She’s such a charming lady.’ Sofia plonked herself down on one of the silk-upholstered armchairs. ‘She spoke about her grandchildren for most of the time and I told her all about Alessandro. She made me promise to send her a photograph when I get back.’
She laughed. It really had been the most wonderful day. Tea with the Queen had been absolutely delightful and the afternoon had ended with an unexpected detour that had turned out to be the loveliest surprise. Though she was keeping that to herself. It might spark a row if Damiano knew and she had no desire for her day to be ruined.
For it had been good from start to finish. She had wakened early so she could phone San Rinaldo and have a word with Alessandro, and that had been the best possible start to the day. And last night’s little upset after Damiano’s rejection of her she had entirely put behind her, writing it off as total madness. Good heavens, she should be glad it had ended as it had, and she really must be mad to get upset over Fiona. She knew the score on that issue and it was high time she just accepted it.
The Duke's Wife Page 9