by Lucy Gordon
With a muttered oath, he went swiftly into the Midas and headed for his office, where Bruno was pouring himself a large brandy. “I thought I’d find you here,” Maurizio said grimly.
“And I knew you’d be looking for me, nephew, so I made myself easy to find. But let’s be quick. You shouldn’t neglect your clients.”
“I put my clients off,” Maurizio said grimly.
“But I thought a lucrative deal hung on tonight?”
“It did.”
“And you risked losing it? My dear boy, welcome to the human race.”
Maurizio’s eyes glittered. “I’m warning you, don’t push me too far. You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“I bumped into Teresa by accident….”
“And keeping her out so late—was that an accident?”
“You’re not her father or her keeper.”
“I have reasons for wanting her kept safe—”
“But are they the reasons you think they are?”
“What do you mean?”
“When did you last disappoint business clients?”
“I’m not bandying words about,” Maurizio said furiously. “Just tell me—do I have a single secret left?”
“You mean, did I tell her what you’re really up to? No, I didn’t. I should have, but I didn’t. I wasn’t brave enough.”
Some of the tension went out of Maurizio’s face. “That was very wise of you. I strongly advise you to go on not being brave.”
He walked out. Bruno poured himself another brandy and regarded it thoughtfully. “But showing you your own heart is another matter, nephew,” he murmured. “I’m brave enough for that.”
*
Playing with masks, Terri discovered, was as exciting as being a child opening a present. She tried them on one by one, the silver tinsel one, the black and gold one, the scarlet satin, the white mask with the huge nose.
She returned to the silver half mask with a glittering fringe, and fixed it into place. Suddenly, the door opened and Maurizio came quietly into her room. He approached her without speaking and Terri stayed quite still. His eyes were fixed on the mask. “Columbine,” he said in a strange voice. “A cunning minx to tempt a man’s soul away. Or just another coquette, teasing him to perdition. Which are you?”
“Which do you think?” she whispered.
“I think you’re playing games with me, Teresa—mocking me—and that makes me angry.”
“Is it forbidden to mock you, Maurizio?” she asked from behind the safety of the silver tinsel. “Is there a law about it?”
“No, but it’s—dangerous.”
Suddenly, she knew that there really was something in the old superstition Bruno had told her about. A mask altered the wearer deep down, not merely on the surface. She’d changed into a woman who wasn’t afraid of danger, not this kind. “You terrify me,” she said theatrically.
“That’s enough,” he said harshly.
“No, it isn’t. Not until Columbine says so.” She whirled away from him and went to regard her new self in the mirror. A stranger looked back at her, a brilliant, confident stranger who could take this man on, and win. “Bruno was right,” she murmured.
Maurizio came up behind her. “What did Bruno say?”
“Oh, lots of things. Very few of them made sense.”
“But some of them must have. What did he say, Teresa?”
She shrugged. The tension in Maurizio had communicated itself to her. This controlled man was on the rack and she felt a heady exhilaration in keeping him there. Prim, proper Terri had become a coquette and the pleasure was exquisite.
Maurizio laid his hands on her shoulders and spoke in a quiet voice that held a faint echo of menace. “What did Bruno say?”
“A million things. I can’t remember them all.”
“But you remember one well enough to think he was right about it. What was Bruno right about?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Teresa, don’t do this….”
“Why shouldn’t I if I want to?”
He dropped his head and laid his lips against her neck. “Don’t do this,” he murmured. “Tell me what I want to know.”
The excitement of his touch was so fierce that it almost drove everything else from her head. But a small, obstinate part of her refused to relinquish the fun of teasing him. “What do you want to know?” she murmured.
“What did Bruno say?”
She shrugged, laughing at him. “I’ve forgotten.”
“Teresa…”
“Why does it matter, anyway?”
Maurizio knew it was madness to reveal that he was troubled, but he couldn’t help himself. She was bewitching, tempting, tormenting, and it was suddenly vital to bring her under his control. “Tell me,” he repeated.
“Why, Maurizio?” With a flash of inspiration, she added, “What are you afraid he said to me?”
“What do you mean by that?” he asked tensely.
“I think you must have some dark secret. What is it? Won’t you tell Columbine?”
“Is that who you are?”
“It’s who I am at this moment, but in a few minutes I may be someone else.” Quick as a flash, she whirled away from him, snatched off the silver mask and donned another, covered in black sequins and edged with gold. “Who am I now, Maurizio?”
“Someone I don’t know,” he growled.
“Well, perhaps that’s as it should be. Why should you always know who I am? Do you let me know who you are? Right now, for instance. Are you in my room as the proprietor of this hotel, or someone else? What’s your mask?”
He drew in his breath at how close she’d come to his dangerous secret. “Someone else,” he said. “Someone who was concerned for your safety and who’s getting precious little thanks for it.”
She laughed and it was like the glitter of clear water. “I don’t need watching over. I’m perfectly safe.”
He had a mad instinct to shout that she wasn’t safe at all. She was the victim of a man who was using her to exact revenge, and she should escape him while she could. Then he remembered that he was that man, and he rubbed his eyes in total, enraged confusion.
When he lifted his head again, the black mask had been replaced by a half mask of scarlet satin, from behind which she studied him in enchanting mockery. “All right, I’ll tell you,” she said. “Bruno said it was an old Venetian superstition that a mask didn’t just help you pretend to be someone else. It actually made you that person. And he was right.”
“Was he?” Relief made it difficult to speak.
“Well, at this moment I feel I’ve turned into another woman—one who’s got you in a spin.” It had to be true, she thought. There was no other way to explain the intoxicating courage that enabled her to provoke this man and enjoy it. “Haven’t I, Maurizio?”
He took her by the shoulders. “Do you think I’d admit it if you had?” he demanded thickly.
She laughed up into his face from behind the red satin. “I think you are admitting it.”
His answer was to pull her against him, looking into her face for a moment before he covered her lips with his own. “Is this what you wanted to know?” he growled against her mouth.
“Yes,” she murmured. “This is exactly what I wanted to know.”
There was anger and a kind of desperation in his kiss, but they only added to her exhilaration. The scarlet mask was doing its work, making her a woman of shameless appetites, who was willing to reach out to the man she wanted and return his kiss with interest. She wove her fingers through his hair and drew him closer. He trembled as though he was taken aback. But not for long. Suddenly, his tongue was in her mouth, exploring her desperately and wreaking havoc with her senses.
He urged her toward the bed and she went with him naturally. She lay back in his arms, her breathing coming deeper, her breasts rising and falling as he began to open the buttons of her shirt. When he slipped his hand inside, a long sigh escaped her. It was unbeliev
ably good. His fingers contained magic. They could set off sparks that flashed all over her body, to her fingers and toes, to her loins. It felt almost wicked to experience such pleasure.
The touch of his tongue on her peaked nipple made another sigh escape her, and she arched instinctively. No man had ever touched her breasts before. Shame had always made her fend them off before this point. But with Maurizio, her shame seemed to vanish, leaving only desire behind. She was possessed by feelings that were completely new to her, and she wanted more.
He raised his head, leaving his hand there to caress her subtly. It wasn’t enough. She wanted the feeling of his purposeful tongue, curling around her nipple, teasing it back and forth, driving her wild with pleasure. “Why have you stopped?” she gasped.
“I wasn’t sure it was what you wanted,” he murmured.
“Oh yes! Yes, Maurizio. Yes—”
He bent his head again and she groaned with shameless pleasure. She trembled at the physical delight he could give her and which took her to the edge of a new world.
He sensed her trembling and his spirits soared. At last he would discover the secret that had so far eluded him: the secret of her. Then, perhaps, he might have peace.
“Let me see you without this thing,” he growled. With an impatient movement, he took the mask from her face and tossed it away. “Now you’re you again.”
But his words were fatal. Herself was just what Terri didn’t want to be. It was someone else who’d offered herself up to his lovemaking with shameless abandon, and as he forced her to become Terri again, the old shame and reservations came alive. With despair, she felt the magic die, leaving her cold and awkward. “Maurizio…”
“Hush, let me love you…”
“No, wait—please—”
“I’ve waited so long already.” He was kissing her as he spoke, his lips making a determined assault on her face, her neck, her breasts.
“Maurizio, please.” She began to struggle. “I can’t do this.”
She felt him freeze, and when he moved back to look at her, his face was hard. “More games, Teresa?”
“It isn’t a game—I swear—I don’t know what happened, but I can’t…please, I can’t!”
He made an angry sound and moved away from her. Terri took a horrified look at her own bare breasts, the peaked nipples telling the unmistakable story of her wantonness, and she hurriedly covered herself. She rose quickly from the bed and turned away from him. “I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly.
“Sorry? You play your coquettish tricks on me and say you’re sorry?”
“It wasn’t any trick,” she cried angrily. “I couldn’t help it. One minute it was all right and the next—it wasn’t.” She added lamely, “You shouldn’t have taken off the mask.”
“Are you telling me you can only make love from behind a mask?” he demanded cruelly.
She was pale. “That might just be it.”
“Now I’ve heard everything. Of all the excuses for making a fool of a man—”
“I wasn’t trying to make a fool of you.” His hard face told her that he didn’t believe her. He looked implacable and unforgiving, and she shivered. “Please, Maurizio, I’d like you to go.”
“Willingly,” he said through clenched teeth. Without a backward look, he strode to the door and slammed it behind him.
Chapter Six
After the way Maurizio had stormed out, Terri wondered if she would ever see him again, but the next night, when once more she left work at nine, he was there waiting for her, leaning against a wall as if he had all evening at his leisure. Her heart leapt, but she kept her manner light as she fell into step beside him. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?” she asked.
“It means I ask you to forgive me. I overreacted and behaved badly.”
“I wasn’t playing coquettish games, Maurizio, truly. I just—I don’t know what came over me.”
“Hush. It’s over. I come in sackcloth and ashes.”
His expression was so droll that she laughed and relaxed. “Aren’t you overreacting again, coming to meet me when you have more important things you should be doing?” she challenged.
“There’s nothing more important than taking care of you,” he said lightly.
“You speak as if I were in danger.”
He shrugged. “All foreigners are in danger in a strange city, especially in winter.”
“But Venice isn’t strange to me anymore. I’ve fallen in love with it. I don’t believe anything bad could happen to me amid such beauty,” she mused, looking around her at the ancient buildings that were half-visible in the gloom.
“Then you haven’t studied Venice’s history,” Maurizio observed. “This has always been a dangerous place, where love and murder walked hand in hand…. Look at that corner,” he said, pointing ahead. “Did you see a man slipping away or was it a trick of the light? You can’t tell. The shadows promise much but hide everything. And if the man was real, is he lover or assassin? Will he pierce your heart with passion—or a stiletto? When you discover which, it will be too late.”
Terri laughed and let him put an arm about her shoulder and draw her close. Maurizio enchanted her when he was in this mood. And then she wondered whether it was the man who enchanted her or the whole mysterious city, of which he was but a part.
“What are you thinking?” he asked quickly, turning her chin up so that he could look into her face.
Caught by surprise, she replied with instinctive honesty, “I was wondering whether it’s Venice or you that I—”
“That you what?” he asked when she checked herself.
“That I like so much,” she finished lamely.
“Only ‘like’? A moment ago, you were in love with Venice.”
His eyes gleamed at her in the darkness, challenging her with what she’d almost said. Terri shrugged and tried to sound natural. “Like—love—whatever,” she said.
“As you say,” he answered blandly, but his smile unnerved her.
It was as if he could look into the bottom of her heart and read secrets there that she hadn’t even admitted to herself. Even after the disaster of last night, he must know how easily he could evoke her desire. Suddenly, she felt herself blushing from head to toe; every part of her body was burning, out of control. She wanted to touch him and have him touch her, not in the friendly way he was doing now, but intimately, as he’d done the night before. Wanting him was irrational after she’d rejected him, and she was ashamed of her own desire. Her shame at something so natural made her angry with herself, but she couldn’t help it.
Abruptly she turned away, freeing herself from Maurizio’s arm and heading toward the Midas Hotel with hurrying steps. “Why do you run away from me?” he asked, catching up. “Don’t you trust me anymore?”
“I’m not running away from you,” she said with a hint of breathlessness. Firmly she slowed her steps, telling herself not to be foolish.
After a moment, his arm went about her shoulder again. “What do you want of me, Teresa? You seem to tell me two different things at once. Do you want me to leave you alone or do you want this?”
On the words, he drew her into the shadows. His arms tightened gently about her and the next moment his mouth covered hers. At first he kissed her cautiously, as though anticipating rejection, but Terri was incapable of protest. She’d spent a lonely night, fearing that this joy was lost to her forever. Now her fears were banished. The feel of Maurizio’s lips on hers obliterated everything but him, and she was drowning in sensation, fears forgotten, yearning only for this to last forever.
“Teresa,” he murmured as he kissed her. “Teresa…tell me that you want me…in spite of everything….”
His burning lips made it impossible for her to answer, nor did she want to answer. She wanted only to stay in his arms until the end of time.
She’d closed her eyes, to enjoy more fully the feeling of being alone in a private world with Maurizio. Now she let them open slightly. Through her lashes s
he had an eerie sense of seeing all Venice at once. Bridges, palaces, mysterious narrow passages leading to infinity, all seemed to float before her.
And then she tensed at something she thought she’d seen. Opening her eyes wide, she had a glimpse of a man standing on a small bridge nearby. He was immediately below a lamp that threw livid shadows across his face, distorting his features, but she could tell that he was regarding her with an air of puzzlement and sadness. Then he moved, the light on his face changed and at once Terri cried out, “Leo.”
Maurizio tensed and pushed her away from him, staring intently into her face. “What did you say?” he demanded.
“Leo—my brother—I saw him.” She wrenched herself free from Maurizio and ran to the bridge. It was empty. “He was here,” she cried. “I saw him.”
“Or the force of your longing made you imagine him,” Maurizio told her.
“I didn’t imagine him,” she cried fiercely. “He was there and it was Leo.”
“Then where is he now?”
“Listen, I can hear footsteps. Over there!” She darted across the bridge and plunged into the maze of passages that confronted her. “Leo,” she cried frantically. “Leo…”
But there was no sign of him, only the sound of echoing footsteps nearby, then far off. “Leo,” she cried again.
“Teresa.” Maurizio was by her side, “Stop and think a moment….”
“I’ve no time to think,” she said frantically. “Leo was there. I saw him. I must find him.”
Before he could stop her, she darted away again, trying to locate the steps, but constantly mocked by their elusiveness. As she ran, the darkened streets were full of echoes, and she couldn’t tell which were her own steps and which those of her quarry. She cried his name desperately and the echoes threw it back to her.
At last the chase took her out of the little alleys. She saw a gleam of water and realized she’d come to one of the smaller side canals. Just up ahead, she thought she made out a figure darting over a bridge. She ran faster, trying to catch him, not seeing how close she’d come to the water. There was a shout, a cry of warning. Too late she saw her foot slipping toward the edge of the bank, and the next moment she was falling. She hit the water before she fully understood what was happening, and then there was only the cold darkness engulfing her as she went down, singing in her ears. She thrashed around madly, but there was darkness in all directions, and for a terrible moment she didn’t even know which way was up. She had a nightmare vision of sinking forever, condemned to eternal existence in this dreadful void.