Exotic Affairs(160)

‘I have it waiting in Rosetta’s office,’ Stefan Kranst said smoothly, and turned away to stride purposefully towards Rosetta Romano’s private office.

It really left them with no choice but to follow. ‘This had better be worth the build-up,’ Marco muttered, unable to stop himself.

‘I hope not,’ Antonia mumbled in reply, which just about said it all for both of them.

Rosetta Romano’s office was a large white space of modern stylism. The only thing, therefore, that stood out in the room, was the giant black easel holding a large frame covered by a piece of fine black muslin.

The moment she saw it Antonia released a gasp of recognition, ‘Stefan… no!’ she shot out.

But Stefan was not willing to listen. He was already standing beside the easel and, with an agonising smoothness he trailed away the fine sheet covering.

Total silence arrived in starbursts of pain-bright recognition. Antonia began to tremble. Marco simply left her standing there and moved on legs suddenly in danger of collapsing to stand right in front of the painting.

It could have been a copy of the Mirror Woman. Certainly it was the same balcony, the same morning half-light touching that same sensual hint of gold to her silk-smooth skin. And it was certainly Antonia standing there naked, looking back over her shoulder in much the same way as the Mirror Woman did.

But it wasn’t the same painting. For this was no mirror reflection, there was no emptiness in her beautiful eyes. Instead they were filled with the truth.

Antonia was held paralysed by exposure, static eyes fixed on Marco’s hardening profile, static heart threatening to burst in her breast. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. She wanted to say something in her defence, but she couldn’t do that because the evidence was so terribly damning.

Stefan came to stand beside her. His hand took hold of her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. But she didn’t feel comforted. Standing here watching the man she loved grimly coming to terms with the knowledge that she had been deceiving him filled her with the kind of dread that made every nerve-end she possessed scream in agony.

‘I can’t believe you’ve done this without my approval,’ she managed to breathe out frailly.

‘If I had asked, you wouldn’t have given it,’ Stefan gently replied.

‘But why have you done it?’ It seemed such a betrayal from the one person in this world she trusted completely.

‘It was time he knew,’ he said simply. ‘You’ve let it go on too long. You must know that by now, my darling.’

Knowing it and wanting this were two separate issues! ‘You should not have done it,’ she whispered, and felt her eyes start to burn as Marco reached out to touch the painting. A long finger gently grazed across a perfectly formed, blemish-free shoulder. Antonia felt that graze as if he’d reached out and touched her. Response shuddered through her on an electric spasm.

‘I’ll never forgive you,’ she told Stefan, and stepped away from him with the intention of going to this other man who was so very important to her—

Only to freeze yet again, when Marco chose the same moment to turn.

His face looked as if it had been chiselled out of marble. ‘You didn’t paint this.’ He honed his cold eyes directly on Stefan.

It was a clearly defined accusation. ‘There speaks the voice of an expert,’ Stefan smiled. Then, ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘This was—’

‘Mine,’ Antonia put in unequivocally. ‘It belongs to me!’ She looked at Marco for understanding. ‘It isn’t even Stefan’s to give to me! I own it! No one is supposed to—’

Marco’s hard-eyed narrowed look silenced her. ‘Who painted it?’ he demanded.

‘Does it matter?’ she begged. ‘It has never been put on public display and it never will be, Marco! I never—’

‘I didn’t ask if it had been shown,’ he cut in. ‘I asked you who the hell painted it!’

His fury was spectacular. Antonia drew back a step in dismay. ‘I think you’re missing the point, Marco,’ Stefan put in quickly. ‘I didn’t show you this to—’

It happened so quickly that Stefan had no time to react to it. With a smoothness of movement that gave no indication whatsoever of what he was intending to do, Marco took two strides and, with a lightning move of his long lean body, he floored Stefan with a punch to his jaw.

With a grunt, Stefan landed in a sprawl in front of him. Antonia’s cry as she lurched towards them filled his ears. ‘Why did you do that!’ she choked as she bent down beside Stefan.

‘For messing with your life. For messing with my life!’ he ground out violently, then just turned and strode out of the door.