by Fox, Natalie
‘Thanks,’ she murmured some ten minutes later as he pulled up outside her apartment block. ‘I won’t ask you up for coffee.’
‘I wouldn’t come,’ he told her, leaning across her to open the passenger door. He grasped the scarf at her throat before she had a chance to step out of the car. He held it firmly, slowly twisting it around his fingers, tightening it, drawing her closer to him. ‘I have someone warm and willing waiting at home for me,’ he taunted in a smooth, seductive drawl, his breath warm on her mouth. As further punishment he pressed his lips to hers and scoured them thoroughly, a physical way of showing her just what she was missing. It sent her pulses thrashing crazily, destroying her very soul.
She let him take his fill and she didn’t allow a scrap of emotion to break through and give him any satisfaction. She was stiff and unyielding under his pressure, struggling to hold onto her defiance under devastating provocation. He’d never know—he couldn’t know how hard her heart beat, how close she was to sobbing out his name against his lips and throwing her arms around his neck and clinging to him.
He drew back at last and in the street lighting she could just see the gleam of anger in his eyes. He was mad at her for not showing any signs of arousal but she felt no triumph, just a terrible thrumming of her heart at the cold, calculated way he showed no emotion other than anger. The kiss really had meant nothing to him; it had merely been a reprisal.
She smiled at him. ‘And I have someone warm and willing waiting for me too,’ she lied sweetly, and got out of the car.
Before she could slam the door in his face he called out, ‘Enjoy your cocoa, darling.’
Boiling with rage, Jade let herself into the apartment block. He couldn’t have known that cocoa was exactly the warm and willing ‘someone’ waiting for her. Once inside her apartment she did what she had longed to do all evening—curled up on the sofa with her misery for company…and her cocoa.
Remarkably Jade’s depression lifted after a few days. To give him his due, Mel Biaggio was a wizard. Without him even putting in another personal appearance something magical had happened within the company.
Enthusiasm. Though the wicked fairy, in the form of Nadia, hadn’t appeared either, word had got around that she was joining the company and expectations were high. Because of Mel the bank manager was suddenly tripping over himself to help and a lease was being drawn up to secure the ground floor for a further studio and presentation room. Mel Biaggio moved in amazing ways.
The following Monday morning Jade threw herself into her work with greater enthusiasm than normal. Her adrenalin was still flowing as fast as a rising tide when she lifted the phone during Diane’s lunch break. It was Mel, and on recognising his voice her heart twisted and she wished it wouldn’t do that. She was coping, she really was.
‘Where are you?’ she asked, twisting her pen in her free hand.
‘Rome. I’m sorry I’ve left you to it these last few days but my schedule is tight. How is Nadia doing?’
Jade raised a brow. ‘Doing what?’ she replied drily.
‘Settling in.’
‘Since she hasn’t put in an appearance yet it’s hard to say,’ was Jade’s sarcastic retort. She would have thought he’d know.
She heard a small groan from Mel. ‘What time is it over there?’
Anyone would think he was on another planet instead of just in Italy, she thought wryly. She glanced at her watch. ‘Ten past one.’
Mel sounded concerned. ‘She doesn’t usually rise till about ten, but…’
Her heart shredded. She didn’t want to know about their personal life.
‘But what?’ Jade couldn’t help urging. Nadia’s sleeping habits really were no concern of hers but this was affecting the business.
‘But she knew she was supposed to be starting with you this morning. She sounded fine on the phone last night.’ He sounded miles away, more than land miles. He sounded deeply concerned. ‘I’d better ring her right away.’
Jade wondered what sort of a relationship they had, because if they were love’s sweet dream wouldn’t he have rung her first thing in the morning? As he used to ring her when they were lovers, eager to hear her voice on waking.
‘Well, when you finally drag her out of bed, Mel,’ she told him frostily, ‘tell your prima donna we start rehearsals at nine sharp every morning and if she can’t make it she’s out before she’s in!’
With that Jade slammed down the phone, and immediately bitterly regretted it. Her vitriol only proved one thing—that she was jealous. But hopefully he wouldn’t see it that way. Hopefully he would think she was in business mode this morning and feeling very frustrated that Nadia was holding up the recovery of her company.
Nadia didn’t show up the following day, or Wednesday, and by Thursday Jade had given her up for good. So much for Mel’s grandiose ideas about branching out into the lucrative world of television commercials.
He walked into her office on Friday morning, taking Jade by surprise. She hadn’t known he was back in the country.
‘Nadia is down with the flu,’ he told her, loosening his tie as he crossed the room to her desk. ‘That’s why she hasn’t put in an appearance.’
‘She could have phoned,’ Jade said drily. She tensed her knees under her desk. So could he, come to that. He must have known on Monday that she was ill.
‘Nadia is a bit vague with telephone numbers, and besides, the poor darling is really quite sick.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Jade felt obliged to say, though she wasn’t convinced that flu could have made her so sick as to render her incapable of making a phone call. A bad memory for numbers was no excuse. I’m being picky, Jade decided, driven by this devil here showing concern for his ‘poor darling’.
‘Anyway, I apologise on her behalf and I’m sure she’ll be on her feet in next to no time.’
Jade watched him thoughtfully as he sat down and picked up her phone as if this were his office, his phone, his business. He looked so serious, but then did she expect him to look otherwise? Nadia, the woman he loved, was unwell and he had committed himself and Nadia to helping her company and was probably regretting it as much as she, Jade, was.
In the confines of her small office, with the door shut and a miserably cold, bleak London day pressing at the windows, she was claustrophobically aware of his physical presence: tall, hard and muscular, severe now as he concentrated on his call. She could even smell him—the same cologne he always used. She could almost feel his silky hair under her fingertips. She trembled inwardly and got up, and was standing at the window when he clicked the phone down.
‘Shall we get on, then?’ he suggested, his voice surprisingly gravelly.
Jade turned in time to see him watching her intently, with an expression of…She tried to analyse the look quickly. Was it regret? Perhaps longing, if she stretched her imagination to its limits. She lowered her eyes. Imagination hurt.
‘Yes,’ Jade said, after taking a steadying breath and lifting her chin. ‘I must take advantage of you while you’re here…’ Colour rose to her cheeks and she gave a half-smile which he returned. ‘You know what I mean,’ she added hurriedly.
‘Yes, I do,’ he murmured back.
Her imagination hummed again. Had she detected regret in his tone? Was she looking for and expecting something that was impossible? She was hopelessly out of line, she decided, going to her desk and picking up some papers she wanted him to go over with her. He was committed to someone else, he loved someone else. There was nothing in his heart for her any more.
‘I’ve had enough,’ Jade breathed wearily as they came back into her office after a lengthy tour of the ground floor, Mel having secured the keys at some time. He overwhelmed her with his drive but then she supposed he was fed by a need to get the company running so that he could get out of her life as quickly as possible. But with Nadia working here would he ever be completely out of her life? The thought prompted a question.
‘If your Nadia ever shows up, how
long do you think she’ll stay? I mean, the purpose is for her to help boost our output. If and when it’s ticking over nicely, is she going to leave?’
She poured coffee from the pot at the small courtesy bar built in a corner of her office and waited for his answer. What she was really asking was when they intended getting married, because she was sure Mel wouldn’t want a working wife.
‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ was his evasive answer.
Jade felt cheated as she handed him a cup of coffee. She hadn’t even had to ask how many sugars he took, or if he preferred cream or milk or black. She remembered it all. Hot, bitter and black, very much like his moods now.
‘I would like to know,’ Jade gently insisted, hoping she didn’t sound too pushy.
‘Why?’
‘Because,’ she said, an edge to her tone this time, ‘I want to know where I stand. If she’s so wonderful and works a miracle here—’
‘I’m the one working miracles, Jade; remember that.’ He leaned back against her desk and drank his coffee, all cool sophistication.
‘You won’t let me forget,’ she muttered as she slumped down in her father’s old leather office chair and glared at him.
‘It’s not as bad as I thought it might be,’ he said. ‘It won’t take much to swing it all around.’
‘The company, you mean?’ she said absently, taking a furtive glance at her watch. It was nearly six, the staff had left and she wanted out too. She was driving down to the country for the weekend and wanted to get going. She’d had to cope with so much this week and exhaustion was clawing at her. She wanted peace and quiet and time to rest and recharge her batteries because next week with him would be much the same—emotionally draining.
‘Are you interested?’ he suddenly asked, and her head shot up to meet his hard gaze.
‘Yes, I’m interested.’
His eyes narrowed threateningly. ‘Well, pay attention, Jade, and stop looking at your watch. I can see how you’ve let things slide—’
‘That’s not fair, Mel,’ she interrupted flintily. ‘I did not willingly let things slide. I took a knock with those poached clients and it’s entirely due to my hard work that I didn’t go all the way down. Don’t talk to me as if I’m a child and you’re a school master. You’re too pedantic by far.’
Impervious to her anger, he asked coolly, ‘Why the eagerness to get away? Is someone waiting for you?’
She eyed him coldly. He sure knew how to put the knife in and twist it cruelly. ‘I wouldn’t tell you if there was, Mel. Suffice to say I’m going down to the country for the weekend.’
He frowned disapprovingly. ‘Is a cosy weekend in the country a wise move when all is chaos around you here at the moment?’
Heavens, was he planning on working all weekend when he’d hardly shown his face all week? If so he was utterly unreasonable. She looked around the office, which was pristine after Diane had tidied up before leaving.
‘I see no chaos,’ she drawled, picking up her coffee-cup and taking it and his to the sink to rinse them.
‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Jade, and ruin won’t either if you don’t work with me to get things moving here.’
She turned on him, bitterly angry at the injustice of that remark. She’d worked herself into the ground this week and was suffering for it now, with exhaustion. ‘Mel Biaggio, I wasn’t the one swanning around Rome this week and I’m not the “poor darling” in bed with the flu. I’ve been here all week, bursting a few blood vessels, and if you think I’ve been doing less than nothing to help myself you might as well go now and leave me to the ruin you are forever wishing on me!’
She was so angry, her nails scored into her palms as she clenched her fists at her sides. At every opportunity he was goading her. It was unbearable and she couldn’t take much more.
She saw his body stiffen and then he came to her and gripped her narrow shoulders. ‘I don’t swan around anywhere, Jade,’ he rasped. ‘It’s been a tough week all round and it’ s going to get tougher. This isn’t the time for weekends in the country.’
The pressure of his hands burned into her shoulders. Why was he always angry with her, why was he always so angry and bitter? She jerked away from him and grabbed at the tea-towel to dry the cups—anything to distance herself from him.
‘Go home, Mel,’ she said through tight lips. ‘Someone warm and willing is waiting for you. Have a good weekend.’
She heard him sigh impatiently. ‘We need to be here, Jade,’ he grated from behind her. ‘There are a million and one things to be sorted out. I have other clients and-’
‘No, Mel,’ she insisted firmly, her back to him. It wasn’t necessary, surely—this overtime, this urgency? If the truth be known she was so stressed out she couldn’t face another hour, let alone the weekend.
‘I have to go down to Bankton House this weekend,’ she went on. ‘I go once a month to see that the house is still standing. My father only gets back from France twice a year.’ She shut up. He wasn’t interested unless it affected his schedule.
‘And what do you do there all weekend—hole up with your latest lover?’ he asked in a low, level voice.
She swung round, hating him for that. Her whole body tensed with anger and hurt. If she’d been big enough and had the strength she’d have slapped his jaw for stabbing at her morals yet again.
‘That was totally out of order, Mel,’ she seethed. ‘If I hole up with twenty lovers it’s none of your business. I resent your unwarranted assaults on my privacy. I don’t probe into your love life so leave mine alone.’
He stepped towards her and grasped her shoulders again, and just before he kissed her he murmured throatily, ‘I wish I could leave your love life alone.’
His mouth on hers drew the very worst from her—a need so compelling and demanding that she felt dizzy with it. His arms held hers at her sides in case she thought of struggling free, but that would have been impossible anyway. She couldn’t move. Mesmerised, she suffered the sweet pressure, and as the kiss deepened and tugged at her senses for a response she knew the agony would never end. She thought of all those wasted years spent trying to forget him, knowing now that her efforts had been futile.
In a dazed state she wondered what was going through his mind and then, in a rush of sudden awareness, she knew. No regrets for him. This was another test of endurance for her. He was giving her the chance to prove whether the remarks she’d thrown at him about lovers were true. If she had so many why didn’t she give herself to him, as she had so willingly a lifetime ago?
Love, hate, fury. They all balled inside her, lending her strength and clearing her head. She shrank back from him, her eyes as cold and as unfeeling as the ones staring down at her now.
‘You did well to pin my arms at my sides, Mel Biaggio,’ she seethed through white lips. ‘I might have inflicted damage on you you would have found difficult to explain to your lover.’
His eyes held hers daringly. He let go of her arms and held his hands up in case she didn’t believe she was free. It was also a gesture of temptation. Would she carry out her threat?
‘You’re not worth it,’ she grated contemptuously, clenching her fists at her sides.
‘Nor you, sweetheart,’ he said as he dropped his hands away from her.
‘So why, Mel?’ she pleaded heatedly. ‘Why do you say the things you do—hateful things intended to hurt me? Why do you kiss me? Is it to punish me more?’
His eyes gleamed, metallic and cruel, and his jawline was as taut as barbed wire. ‘I kissed you for the same reason as the first time—to lay some ghosts. Trouble is, sweetheart, you are proving some heavyweight ghost to exorcise. Perhaps the solution would be your total submission. Perhaps then I’d be able to get on with my life and not see your face and body every time I lie with another woman!’
With one last demonic look he turned away, slammed the office door after him, leaving Jade trembling at the brutality of his words. Their meaning sank into her daz
ed mind slowly, poisonously. He wanted more than a kiss to exorcise their past. He wanted her total submission and only then would his appetite for revenge be sated.
Oh, God, what had she started, and what could she do to escape this terrible punishment he wanted to inflict on her? She wouldn’t be able to stand it, to live through this crippling torment. But he’d said ‘perhaps’—perhaps he’d change his mind.
Jade hugged herself for comfort and stared up at the ceiling, biting hard on her lower lip. The trouble was, she knew Mel Biaggio. Once he had an idea in his mind the devil himself couldn’t shift it. He’d try and carry out his threat but the outcome lay with her. She wouldn’t allow him to destroy her as he intended. She had to be strong and she would be. She was a survivor. He wouldn’t win. Ever.
CHAPTER FOUR
MEL BIAGGIO had given Jade a headache never to forget. Her forehead throbbed as she drove down the motorway, wishing she had stayed in London for the weekend where it was warmer. Flurries of snow covered the windscreen and she switched on the wiper-blades, comforting herself with the thought that by going down to Bankton House and running the central heating for a few days she would prevent the water pipes freezing up. This was therapy, she decided. Occupying herself down at the house would blot out the turmoil of what Mel was putting her through. She’d clean and polish and positively not allow herself to think.
She wondered if she was too late to save the plumbing when she entered the old Victorian house on the edge of the Kentish village she had grown up in. It was perish-ingly cold and she shivered uncontrollably as she snapped on the central heating boiler in the kitchen and then went around switching lamps on, which at least created an image of warmth.