Mistress Material

‘My reputation is of no concern to me,’ he drawled with dismissive arrogance. ‘But if that is what you intend to do, then I must give you fair warning that you will really leave me no choice other than to silence you most satisfactorily.’

Her confusion must have shown in her eyes. ‘By kissing you, of course,’ he elaborated silkily. ‘And as I recall you liked me kissing you, didn’t you, Suki? You liked it ve-ry much.’

Oh! That occasional lilt to his voice was so devilishly attractive! Suki took a deep breath and met his gaze full-on. ‘What do you want?’

‘To talk to you.’

‘And that’s all?’

‘For now.’ The words sounded ominous.

She’d been little more than a child when she’d known him before, and then she had been so enraptured by his physical magnetism that she had seen little beyond his tantalising exterior. Now, as an adult, she recognised the quiet determination about the man which he wore like a mantle. If Pasquale wanted to talk to her, she realised, then attempting to avoid him might prove to be more trouble than it was worth.

‘Very well,’ she sighed. ‘Talk to me. I’m listening. But I’m giving you five minutes to say whatever it is you want to say—and then I’m out of here!’

‘Out—of—here,’ he repeated slowly, in a voice of fascinated horror. He made a little clicking sound of disapproval. ‘Such an expensive Swiss education,’ he mused. ‘Wasted. That all those years of tuition should culminate in such bald, inelegant little statements...’

His elegant censure hit a raw nerve as something inside her snapped. The realisation that he was playing with her, teasing her, as an angler would a fish, made Suki realise that she was putting herself into an unnecessarily weak position. She didn’t have to stay and talk to him. She didn’t have to do anything. She was no longer a naive and gullible schoolgirl—she was an independent career-woman in her own right, for heaven’s sake!

Without another word, she stalked off towards the house, pushing her way through the milling throng, but she knew from the buzz which accompanied her movements that Pasquale was following her.

Let him follow her! she thought with a stubborn resurgence of resolve. She would slam the wretched door in his face and then lock it! That would call his bluff. He had arrogantly stated that his reputation was of no concern to him, but she doubted whether he would want this select and privileged bunch of guests witnessing him beating her door down!

She was aware of people watching them, of the women staring at Pasquale, their eyes full of ill-concealed lust. She had been like that once. She shuddered in disgust as she glanced over her shoulder to see that he had paused to speak to one of the waitresses. Vaguely, Suki wondered where Salvatore was, but he was nowhere to be seen. But then perhaps it was better that he wasn’t around. He would want to know who Pasquale was—and how could she tell him? How could she say, He’s the brother of the girl who was my best friend—the man I once begged to make love to me?

And he hadn’t.

That was the most galling thing.

He hadn’t.

It was a story she was not proud of and to this day it had the power to make her flinch when she remembered exactly how she had behaved. Over the years she had deliberately pushed the memory to the recesses of her mind and seeing him today had brought it all flooding back with painful clarity.

She slipped through the house, her bare feet moving over the cold marble floors, her tall, dark, silent pursuer making her heart thunder with dread and excitement.

Her room was on the first floor, at the opposite end of the corridor to Salvatore’s, and she hurriedly pushed the door open, aware of Pasquale’s footsteps, of the soft sound of his breath, of that strange, elusive masculine scent, still so startlingly familiar, even after seven years.

She turned to face him, her chest heaving, her almond-shaped amber eyes narrowed like a lioness’s. ‘This is ridiculous,’ she said.

His face was infuriatingly enigmatic. ‘I agree,’ he returned. ‘You are injecting an element of farce into my simple request that we talk.’

She thought of the intimacy of the room just behind them. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘But not here.’

He smiled, but the smile did not reach his cold, glittering eyes. ‘Oh? And why not—or can I guess? The presence of a bed bothers you, does it, Suki? Are you afraid of what might happen if you’re alone in a bedroom with me?’

She swallowed. All those nights she’d spent imagining how she’d behave if she ever had the misfortune to see him again. She had planned to ignore him, look down her nose at him. In her wilder fantasies she had even been prepared to pretend not to recognise him at all, planning to stare at that dark, handsome face with bemused bewilderment, although looking at him now she knew that that would have been asking a little too much of her general acting ability.

It had certainly not been her intention to let him know that his presence still had the power to disturb her. Profoundly. And wasn’t that exactly what she was doing now?

Taking a deep breath, she switched into superficial hostess mode. Giving him the bright smile she normally reserved for the lens of a camera, she waved her hand invitingly.

‘Forgive me,’ she said, sounding deliberately insincere, and saw from the cold twist of his mouth that her insincerity had been noted. ‘I’ve been under a lot of strain recently—working too hard—you know how it is.’ She glanced down at the waterproof watch on her wrist and gave him a cool, self-possessed smile. ‘I can give you—ten minutes. Is that time enough?’

‘Plenty,’ he said abrasively, and followed her into the room.

He walked over to the window, where the balcony overlooked the poolside, and there was silence for a moment as he stared down at people tearing apart the glistening red lobsters which the waiters had now produced, at women delicately devouring the sweet pink flesh as they tried not to smear their lipstick. Suki felt a shiver of unknown origin tingle its way up her spine.

‘How’s Francesca?’ she asked suddenly.

He tensed immediately and his face was like granite when he turned around to capture her in a cold, dark stare.

‘Do you care?’

‘Of course I care! She was my best friend—before you pulled her out of school and forbade me ever to see her again!’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘That was a decision I have never regretted. I did not approve of the company she was keeping.’

Suki lifted her chin. ‘By that I suppose you mean me?’

He gave her a steady look. ‘Yes, Suki—I mean you.’

‘The bad influence,’ she observed acidly.

He gave a low laugh. ‘Precisely. I had no intention of letting my sister start copying the kind of behaviour you were indulging in. Young girls are notoriously affected by what their peers do. And whilst you might have considered it perfectly normal to sleep around I had no intention of letting Francesca do the same.’

Sick at heart, Suki turned away from those dark, intent, judgemental eyes. He still thought of her as nothing more than a tramp—so why bother defending herself? Indeed, how could she possibly defend herself when he spoke nothing more than the truth?

‘Is that what you’ve come here for?’ she asked bitterly. ‘To go over the past? You’ve made it clear what you think of me—not that I care what you think any more—’

‘Did you ever?’ he interrupted softly. ‘Or was I just one more virile male for you to wrap those beautiful legs around?’

Suki hesitated painfully, the cruel censure behind his words making the erotic image they created disintegrate immediately. Her amber eyes glittered as she found herself speaking without bothering to analyse her words. ‘Of course I cared! You were the older brother of my dearest friend—I was a guest in your house, and you threw me out! Hustled me away like some criminal—flown away at high speed, my holiday cut short. Having to explain to my mother...’

A look almost of pain crossed his face. ‘What,’ he said, very softly, ‘did you tell your mother?’

Her eyes were amber ice. ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ she told him scornfully. ‘Your telephone call to her managed to allay any worries she might have had. I don’t know how you managed it, but you certainly sweet-talked her into thinking that everything was just fine and dandy. I certainly wasn’t going to enlighten her with the truth—that you kicked me out of your bed and out of your house within a few hours!’

‘Dio!’ he swore raggedly. ‘Must you put it quite so—crudely?’

‘I’m sorry if it’s crude,’ she said deliberately. ‘But it’s the truth. It’s horrible, it’s something I’d rather forget—and I will tell you for the last time that I’m simply not interested in rehashing the past—if that’s why you’ve come.’

He stared at her for a long moment of consideration before shaking his head. ‘That isn’t why I’ve come,’ he told her.

‘What, then?’ she asked him in bewilderment.

‘I’ve come to ask you to do something for me,’ he said simply, but as she was caught up in his direct stare the substance of his words drifted away like gossamer on a breeze because the soft, dark blaze of his eyes had the power to confuse her, to merge the years and send her mind racing back to a time almost eight years ago—the first time she had ever set eyes on Pasquale Caliandro...

CHAPTER TWO (#ub61edd01-83ab-5fb1-b4a1-fd2bbe78bd49)