simply meant that I'd never seen it from quite this angle before.' She
gave a little artificial laugh. 'When you're working, one place is very
much like another, you know.'
'I doubt that, cara,' he said a little grimly. 'Change places with a
young girl labouring in a factory in Milan and see if she would
agree with you.'
She flushed, already well aware of the foolishness of her remark. 'I
didn't quite mean that,' she said stiltedly.
'I hope not.' His tawny eyes were narrowed as he looked at her. 'Do
you know, you puzzle me, Janina.'
Her own glance fell away. 'I fail to see why,' she said in a subdued
tone.
'I'll tell you why. Because you don't fit all my preconceptions. Most
of them, si, but not all. There are-anomalies.'
Juliet could feel herself tensing. This is it, she told herself, the big
denunciation.
She made herself pout a little. 'I'm sorry if I don't conform to the
pattern of womanhood that you expected.'
'I didn't say that.' He smiled mirthlessly. 'In many ways you
fulfil-all my expectations, and yet in others ...' He gave a slight
shake of the head. 'I suppose it's all part of this artificial world you
inhabit. Eventually you forget what it is to be a real person. Acting
a role all the time must become second nature.'
So much for her skill in portraying Jan! She thought wryly.
'But I must confess, mia,' he went on, his voice deepening slightly,
'that occasionally in those great eyes of yours I catch a glimpse of
someone I would like to know better.'
She could feel her heart beating very loudly and painfully. The
impulse to tell him the truth there and then was almost
overwhelming, but it was too soon, she told herself desperately. If
the wedding hadn't taken place yet, there was still time for him to
prevent it.
She gave a little tight smile. 'Has it ever occurred to you that it
might be the same person that your brother Mario has fallen in love
with?'
'No, it has not,' he said bitingly. 'I'm perfectly well aware of what
constitutes your attraction for Mario, cara, and it is not your
beautiful soul. In the early days, before you managed to persuade
him that he needed to marry you, he was almost embarrassingly
frank on the subject.'
A faint colour rose in her cheeks that she hoped fervently he would
attribute to the sun.
'Then I'm surprised you didn't decide to nip the affair in the bud
right then,' she said quickly, bending forward so that her hair swung
in a concealing curtain across her cheek.
'Why should I? I told myself that Mario had as much right as
anyone to sow some wild oats before settling down with a wife and
family.' His voice was cynical. 'Where I made my mistake was in
believing that you knew the rules of the game and were content to
abide by them.'
'Aren't you afraid,' she said slowly, still staring down at the
sun-bleached rock, 'that Mario will hate you for ever because of
what you've done?'
'I don't doubt he will be a little angry at first.' He sounded faintly
amused. 'But you flatter yourself, cara, if you imagine that you have
the power to start a vendetta between us. Mario will be
philosophical .eventually. You have made him a delectable
mistress, but all good things must come to an end, as he knows very
well. He has family obligations to fulfil, and I'm sure it will be a
weight off his mind to know that you are being-well looked after.'
'By you, I suppose,' she said, her voice shaking with anger. 'My
God, if you only knew how I hated you- despised you!'
He laughed. 'It doesn't particularly disturb me, bella mia. A little
hatred might prove a refreshing novelty. At least it means you won't
bore me with endless protestations of undying love that we would
both know were false.' He was silent for a moment, then he reached
out and gripped her shoulder, pulling the thin covering of
cheesecloth away from it. 'Don't let's fool ourselves, Janina,' he
muttered thickly. 'There was something between us from the
moment we looked at each other. I knew it and so did you, so we'll
forget the virtuous denials.' He bent his head, and she felt his breath
warm on her neck. He ran his tongue slowly along the smooth curve
of her shoulder and she felt a great shiver convulse the centre of her
being.
'You taste of salt.' His voice was husky and close to her ear. 'You
haven't a trace of make-up, and your hair is hanging in a hundred
rats' tails, and if we weren't surrounded by these accursed rocks, I'd
take you now.'
'Leave me alone!' she whispered wretchedly. She was close to tears
and even closer to panic. It would be so easy to turn to him, to
yield, to be drawn against the hard warmth of his body, but she
knew if she gave way to any of the warm, treacherous impulses
which had invaded her body then she would awake tie next morning
to shame and regret. Besides, if she gave herself to him, he would
very soon know that it was not Janina whom he held in his arms.
Juliet's painful lack of the kind of experience she had no doubt he
would demand would soon reveal the trick that had been played on
him, and although he had to find out eventually what she had done,
she did not think she could bear for him to find out quite like that.
'Alone.' His tone was frankly sceptical. 'What is this sudden passion
for solitude? Annunziata tells me you've insisted on having a bed
made up in the guestroom. Are you afraid that she'll be shocked that
you turn to me after my brother. She knows nothing of your
involvement with Mario. She reads no newspapers-at least not the
kind you feature in-and no gossip reaches her ears.'
'In fact to her I'm just another in a long line of your lady house,
guests-only not quite so accommodating,' she said flatly. 'Believe
me, I'm not simply trying to make the situation acceptable to
Annunziata. I'm trying my hardest to prove to you that it isn't
acceptable to me.'
'Not acceptable?' His voice hardened. 'When I've felt your body
tremble in my arms longing to yield me its last secrets? Dio, Janina,
do you take me for some naive fool on the brink of his first affair?'
'Oh, no,' she said bitterly. 'Not that-never that. But hasn't it ever
occurred to you that simply wanting something-or being able to
buy it even-isn't always sufficient justification for having it?'
For a moment there was silence, then he said grimly, 'You are a
mass of contradictions, mia, as I indicated earlier. Very well-we
will play the game your way, but the result will be the same in the
end, and when I kiss you awake in my arms I defy you to tell me
that you are sorry or- unjustified!'
'You make it sound utterly ridiculous,' she said wearily. 'I just can't
convince you that I'm in earnest.'
'But so am I, cara,' he said very softly. 'So am I.'
She got to her feet, half afraid that he might detain her, but he
remained where he was while she scrambled down from the rock
and began to make her slow way back across the tumbled stones to
the road. With every step she took, she was conscious of his eyes
watching her, and it was much as she could do to stop herself from
running.
She didn't want to look back at him, in fact she was determined not
to, yet somehow, as she gained the uneven surface of the road
which led to the castello, she found her .steps faltering, and her
head turning almost in spite of herself. He was still in the same
place, a dark almost sinister figure stretched out on the rock,
bleached white by the sun. As he saw her hesitation, his hand came
up in a half-mocking salute and he rose to his feet.
For a moment Juliet thought he was coming after her and with a
gasp, was poised for flight. Then she realised, as he tugged his shirt
over his head, and unzipped his pants that he was only going for a
swim.
He .walked to the edge of the rock and stood motionless for a
moment before diving in, and Juliet realised for the .first time that
he wasn't wearing trunks or in fact anything at all. She turned away
hurriedly, feeling that betraying blush stealing into her face again,
and began to walk, far more quickly than the heat of the day
demanded, up the steps towards the castello.
Juliet stood looking at herself in the full-length cheval mirror that
stood in the corner of her room, a faint cloud of doubt shadowing
her face. In just a few minutes it would be time for her to go
downstairs to dinner, and she wanted to be sure that her appearance
was exactly right.
She'd dressed with a great deal of heart-searching that night,
choosing after some hesitation an evening dress she had herself
bought back in England and which by chance had been included in
the wardrobe that Santino had so hastily assembled for her.
She had not been able to resist the dress when she saw it in the
boutique, but she had never imagined that she would wear it under
quite these particular circumstances. It was made of a soft silky
fabric, rather like chiffon, in an entrancing shade somewhere
between blue and green. The neckline was low and boat-shaped,
and the sleeves full and transparent, and the full skirt billowed
round her slender legs as she moved. There was a long matching