Читать книгу Flame Of Desire - Кэрол Мортимер, Carole Mortimer - Страница 5

SHE had felt sure he was taken aback by her identity, but there was no evidence of it now in his chillingly handsome face. ‘This is your daughter, Rosemary?’ he queried softly.

Her stepmother gave a brittle laugh. ‘This is my stepdaughter, yes.’

Those deep brown eyes were levelled on Sophie again. ‘I did not realise.’

‘Do introduce yourself properly, Sophie,’ Rosemary gave her an angry glare. ‘I have to go and save your father from Monty again. He will insist on talking for hours about horse-racing,’ she explained to Luke, ’and Simon has no interest in it at all.’

‘You did not think it necessary to introduce yourself this afternoon?’ Luke Vittorio asked abruptly once her stepmother had left them in a haze of her cloying perfume.

Sophie placed her empty sherry glass down on the side-table with relaxed calm. ‘Should I have done?’

‘I would have thought it polite, considering you know my reason for being here.’

She arched her eyebrows. ‘Do I?’

‘I would have thought so,’ he said coolly.

Her mouth twisted as she remembered the way her stepmother had said this man was going to ’look her over’. ‘I’m not exactly what you expected, am I?’ she challenged.

His head was held at a haughty angle, his eyes narrowed. ‘And what did I expect?’

‘I believe Miss Jeffers described it as a—brat?’

‘I am not Miss Jeffers.’ His voice was distinctly cool now.

Sophie gave a light laugh. ‘I’m aware of that. But I believe you expected someone a little—younger?’

He nodded distantly, the black sheen of his hair catching the overhead light. ‘Perhaps.’

There was no perhaps about it. She had known as soon as Eve Jeffers had called her a brat that they were expecting a much younger girl, possibly someone of ten or eleven. ‘And what do you think now?’

He shrugged his broad shoulders, muscle rippling beneath his velvet jacket. ‘Your age is irrelevant as to whether I paint you or not. As a matter of interest, how old are you?’

‘I’m not sure my stepmother would want me to tell you that. She’s just old enough to be my real mother.’

He gave a mocking smile. ‘I am sure you are right when you say Rosemary would not like me to know that—she has a way of looking constantly young.’ His admiring eyes followed her stepmother as she flitted about the room talking to her guests.

‘And a stepdaughter of nineteen isn’t very flattering,’ Sophie said abruptly, not liking the way he was looking at Rosemary. It brought back the feeling of uneasiness she had felt at Eve Jeffers’ disparaging remarks about Rosemary this afternoon.

Luke Vittorio smiled fully now, showing his firm even white teeth. ‘I am sure Rosemary would not think so.’

Sophie’s resentment grew, but she was prevented from making any reply by the arrival of Eve Jeffers at Luke Vittorio’s side, the pebble-green eyes flicking over her speculatively. That brief glance was enough to show Sophie that she wasn’t considered a rival.

‘Sorry I’m late down, Luke darling,’ Eve said throatily, her hand in the crook of his arm. ‘I haven’t missed anything, have I?’ she asked maliciously.

Sophie revised her earlier opinion of this woman being beautiful; there was too much hardness about her and a cruel twist to her painted lips for her to merit such a description. Not that she didn’t look pure perfection in the green gypsy-style evening dress, there was just a hardness about her that marred that beauty.

‘You have missed being introduced to Miss Bedford,’ he informed her.

The black eyebrows arched. ‘The brat?’ She looked around. ‘Has she been sent to bed already? Oh well, spoilt kids aren’t amongst my favourite people anyway.’ She looked back at Sophie. ‘Do I know you?’

‘No,’ Sophie said stiffly.

Eve frowned. ‘I’ve seen you before, I’m sure of it. Are you a model too?’

‘You flatter me!’

‘Sophie!’ She looked up as she heard her name called, seeing Nicholas Sedgwick-Jones making his way towards her. She groaned inwardly as he beamed down at her, waiting for his opening line as she always did. ‘You’re looking particularly beautiful tonight,’ he gushed.

This time she did groan. Nicholas always said the same thing, it was only the time of day that changed. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she didn’t suspect his widowed mother of teaching it to him parrot-fashion before he came out every day; there was certainly no sincerity behind his words.

She made the introductions to the other couple, aware that Luke Vittorio regarded Nicholas with as much contempt as she did. Luckily they all started going in to dinner at that moment, although she didn’t think herself so lucky a few seconds later when Luke Vittorio offered her his arm to go in to dinner.

She had no choice but to accept. ‘Shouldn’t you be taking in your girl-friend?’ she said tartly once out of earshot of the other two.

‘I am sure Eve will be suitably entertained by your friend.’

As she could already hear Nicholas launching into an account of his life on his farm Sophie didn’t feel sure of any such thing. Nicholas bored her, so what he would do to the much more sophisticated model she had no idea. He was still enthusing about his favourite subject as they came into the dining-room, and Sophie felt almost sorry for the other girl as she saw her mother had placed them next to each other at dinner.

She didn’t feel so elated when she found herself seated next to Luke Vittorio. Her mother sat at the head of the table, Luke sitting to her left and Sophie next to him. Nicholas and Eve were sitting at the other end of the table.

‘Has Sophie managed to introduce herself yet?’ Rosemary asked Luke.

‘Oh yes,’ he nodded.

‘I think Mr Vittorio was under a mishapprehension, Mummy,’ Sophie said with relish, forking melon into her mouth.

‘About what, Sophie?’ her stepmother frowned.

‘About the age of your stepdaughter, Rosemary,’ Luke cut in. ‘I believed someone as beautiful as yourself could not possibly be the mother of a nineteen-year-old girl. Your stepdaughter seems to find my error amusing.’

‘Sophie is a naughty child.’ Rosemary put her hand intimately on his arm. ‘I hope you’ll consider her worthy of your talent.’

And Sophie hoped he wouldn’t! She had had enough of his arrogance already, let alone having to sit for him for possibly hours on end. ‘I’m sure Mr Vittorio is much too busy to paint me,’ she protested.

His dark eyes mocked her. ‘I have not yet made up my mind.’

She bristled angrily. ‘Well, I have,’ she said crossly. ‘I don’t want to be painted, by you or anyone else.’

‘Sophie!’ there was an angry flush to her stepmother’s smooth creamy skin. ‘You’ll do as you’re told.’

‘I do not paint unwilling subjects,’ Luke Vittorio stated haughtily.

Sophie felt sure that all the women he painted were more than willing, and not just to have their portrait painted. ‘Good,’ she smiled happily. ‘That lets me out.’

‘Sophie!’ once again Rosemary gasped.

‘I’m sure Mr Vittorio understands,’ Sophie said uncaringly.

‘And I’m just as sure he doesn’t,’ her stepmother’s voice was harsh. ‘I’m so sorry, Luke,’ she gave him a glowing smile, ’Sophie isn’t normally this rude.’

Only to people as arrogant and condescending as this man! ’Have I been rude?’ she queried with feigned innocence.

Rosemary’s mouth was set in an angry line. ‘You know very well you have.’

‘Then I apologise,’ she said in the same offhand manner she had carried out the rest of the conversation. ‘But I was only telling Mr Vittorio the way I felt.’

He gave her a cool look. ‘The fact that the portrait is to be a gift to your father is of no consequence to you?’

She blushed at his intended rebuke. ‘I’m sure Daddy will survive without it.’

‘I believe it was to have been a birthday present, an addition to the family record.’

‘And would you like that, Mr Vittorio, to be the painter of one of our family portraits?’

He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘It does not bother me one way or the other. I paint only what I want to paint. What my client does with that painting once it has been completed is none of my concern.’

Rosemary gave a light tinkling laugh. ‘Every portrait you do is highly acclaimed, Luke, and they’re always kept in a place of honour.’

‘I’m sure they are,’ Sophie put in dryly, sipping her wine.

‘If you can’t be civil,’ her stepmother snapped, ’then don’t say anything at all!’

Sophie shrugged. ‘That suits me.’

After that she devoted all her attention to the man sitting to her left, dazzling him with her laughing violet eyes, flattering him outrageously. And all the time she was aware of the soft murmuring of conversation between her stepmother and Luke Vittorio. Not that she could hear what was being said, they were talking too quietly for that.

Her stepmother was the gracious hostess to this sophisticated man, and yet Sophie knew that she would be in for a certain amount of angry reprisal once her stepmother had her alone. She had in fact been more outspoken than she intended, but she didn’t regret it. Her stepmother might like the man, enjoy his company, but. she wasn’t going to become another of the women following him with adoring eyes. She didn’t much like the attention Rosemary paid him either, and she could see her father watching them closely too.

Nicholas managed to be at her side again as they stood in the lounge drinking coffee. His boyish face always looked pink and well scrubbed, his fair hair kept short and brushed away from his forehead. Sophie supposed he could be called good-looking—if only he didn’t have such a boring turn of conversation. He was doing it again now, launching into a lengthy tale about a sick cow he had.

‘Of course I knew the diagnosis before the vet told me,’ he said enthusiastically, ’but you have to call these chaps out just to confirm it.’

‘Yes, of course you do,’ she agreed vaguely, watching as her stepmother continued to stay at Luke Vittorio’s side. He was obviously the guest of honour, a feather in Rosemary’s social cap, but it really wasn’t like her to neglect her other guests like this.

‘I—er—I don’t suppose you would care to come over to tea tomorrow?’ Nicholas looked at her expectantly. ‘My mother would love to see you.’

Sophie didn’t doubt it. Every time she saw Mrs Sedgwick-Jones she extolled the virtues of her only child, hinting broadly at how she would welcome Sophie as a member of the family. The Sedgwick-Joneses might have breeding, but they had very little money to go with it. It wouldn’t be so bad if Rosemary didn’t encourage them, inviting Nicholas over here every chance she had.

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think I can, Nicholas, not with all these guests here. It wouldn’t look very good if I just disappeared tomorrow afternoon.’

‘But they aren’t your guests,’ he persisted. ‘And I’m sure your stepmother wouldn’t mind. Besides, these people aren’t even in your age group.’

Neither was he, if the truth were known. He might only be twenty-three, but he acted much older. ‘I don’t think I should,’ she refused. ‘Not when we have guests.’

And one guest in particular. It was a disquieting feeling seeing her stepmother’s head bent towards that dark one so often, and her feelings of unease increased as she saw the frown on her father’s face.

‘He’s a distinguished-looking chap, isn’t he?’ Nicholas remarked at her side, drawing her attention back to him.

‘Mm?’

‘Luke Vittorio,’ he explained. ‘He’s a very noticeable chap.’

He had obviously followed her line of vision and misunderstood her interest. ‘I suppose you could say that,’ she acknowledged ruefully.

‘He’s not what you expect of an artist, though, is he?’

Sophie gave an amused smile. ‘And what did you expect? The classical paint-stained smock, the paintbrush behind each ear?’

A dark hue coloured his cheeks. ‘Now you’re mocking me!’

She put a hand on his arm. ‘Only a little,’ she gave him an apologetic smile. ‘But Mr Vittorio could hardly sit down to dinner in his working clothes. I’m sure he wears denims and tee-shirts when he paints.’ And looked just as distinguished in them as he did his other clothes. The man carried himself with arrogant elegance and would stand out in a crowd no matter what he wore.

‘You seemed to have a lot to say to him at dinner,’ observed Nicholas.

‘I’m surprised you noticed,’ she teased. ‘You seemed pretty well occupied with Eve Jeffers.’ She had seen the other girl trying to stifle a couple of yawns as Nicholas didn’t stop talking throughout the whole meal.

Again he blushed, although she thought he was secretly pleased about her noticing such a thing. He perhaps, mistakenly, thought her to be jealous.

‘Miss Jeffers was very interested in that sick cow I was telling you about.’

She shook her head. Poor Nicholas, he had no idea how boring he was. She looked up to find a pair of deep brown eyes watching her with mocking amusement, and glared resentfully at Luke Vittorio, guessing that Nicholas was the reason for his amusement. Her stepmother seemed to have momentarily left the man’s side, although he wasn’t short of company, surrounded as he was by a group of the female guests.

Sophie put her hand in the crook of Nicholas’ arm, leading him purposefully over to the chattering group. She edged her way in to stand at Luke Vittorio’s side, giving him a dazzling smile as he looked down at her questioningly.

‘Would you care for some more coffee?’ she asked him politely.

He seemed surprised by her friendly attitude after her earlier rudeness, his eyes narrowing. ‘No, thank you. Your stepmother has seen to my needs.’

Sophie’s mouth tightened. Not all of them she hadn’t! ’Nicholas has been longing to talk to you,’ she pulled the shy young man forward. ‘There wasn’t time before dinner.’

‘Oh, but—–’ Nicholas began to protest.

She patted his arm. ‘Now don’t be shy, Nicholas. I’m sure Mr Vittorio would love to hear about your farm. Tell him about that poor sick cow you had.’

Nicholas looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m sure that can be of no interest—–’

‘Of course it would,’ she encouraged, surprised that for once he seemed to have realised someone had no interest in the welfare of his animals. ‘I’ll just go and make sure our other guests have everything they need. I won’t be long.’

‘But—–’

She gave a mischievous smile before walking away. She would teach Luke Vittorio to laugh at her. Let him listen to Nicholas and see how he fared!

He seemed to be faring very well ten minutes later when she looked over at him; the two men were apparently deep in conversation.

She turned away angrily, accepting a glass of champagne from the tray Martin was offering to the guests. She had quite expected Luke Vittorio to excuse himself as soon as it was polite to do so, but no, he seemed quite content to talk to Nicholas.

‘The stem of that glass is not my throat,’ he said from close behind her.

Sophie turned hurriedly to confront the artist, releasing the tight grip she had on the glass. ‘Do you have reason to think it was?’ she returned lightly.

‘Oh, yes,’ he gave a slight smile. ‘Do you not think it was rather cruel of you to leave your young friend like that?’

Her violet eyes glowed her malicious pleasure. ‘Didn’t you enjoy your little chat with him?’

‘I enjoyed it very much. I thought you cruel to Mr Sedgwick-Jones, not myself.’

‘To Nicholas?’ she frowned her puzzlement.

‘Yes. I am sure he came here this evening with the sole purpose of being with you. He did not expect to have to answer my quite extensive questioning about his livestock.’

She gave him a suspicious look. ‘Extensive questioning?’

He gave an inclination of his dark head. ‘I have a farm myself in America—or perhaps you would call it a ranch.’

‘You have a ranch?’ She was aware that she was repeating everything he said, but he had taken her aback. She had fully expected him to be as bored with Nicholas as everyone else seemed to be.

‘A few acres,’ he confirmed.

She felt sure that ’a few acres’ amounted to hundreds, possibly thousands. ‘But your home is in London,’ she pointed out.

‘I have no—home. I live where it suits me, and no doubt one day it will suit me to live in America. I have a manager there at the moment, but I visit from time to time.’

She could just see this man astride a horse, master of all he surveyed. The healthy tinge to his swarthy skin indicated that he did not spend all of his time working indoors and socialising now. No, there was power in his muscular physique, not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his tall agile body.

‘So you can understand,’ he continued, ’that I found your friend’s conversation very interesting. He is very knowledgeable on certain subjects.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed tightly.

The amusement in his dark eyes deepened. ‘You did not expect me to find him so,’ he mocked.

Sophie gave him a furious look. ‘Are you always so arrogant and—and emotionless?’ she snapped.

Luke’s mockery became more pronounced. ‘I do not think I am the one to ask about that. I have all the usual male appetites and emotions.’

‘I know that,’ she sneered. ‘And not all of your conquests are single wom …’ She broke off, looking with horror from him to her stepmother and back again. Oh no, she couldn’t believe it, not Rosemary and this man! But what other explanation could there be, why else did her father look so anxious and her stepmother so glowingly beautiful?

She had always known that her stepmother and father didn’t have the normal marriage of her friends’ parents, the two of them enjoyed a different life-style, but that Rosemary could be interested in another man had never occurred to her. They had always appeared fond of each other, but she doubted her parents were actually in love with each other. But another man …

‘You have gone very pale.’ Luke Vittorio stood in front of her, shielding her from the rest of the people in the room. ‘Are you feeling unwell?’

She swallowed hard, nausea rising up in her throat. ‘I—I feel sick,’ she choked, unable to look at him.

‘I think you should go to your room and lie down,’ he advised. ‘Perhaps you would like me—–’

‘I wouldn’t like you to do anything,’ she snapped, her eyes flashing her dislike.

‘Why me in particular?’

She glared at him. ‘I think you know the answer to that. Excuse me, I can’t bear—–’

‘Luke,’ Eve Jeffers came up to them, smiling broadly, ’I can’t seem to get you alone this evening.’ She gave Sophie a disparaging look. ‘The Bedford women seem to be monopolising your attention.’

At least she had progressed from a brat to a woman! And she understood this woman’s reference to her stepmother looking forward to Luke’s arrival now, understood it and hated it. And she hated him! He had no right to encourage her stepmother in this folly, to use his sensuality like a flytrap against Rosemary’s ever-increasing consciousness of the coming of middle age, her awareness of the passing of the years.

She gave the other girl a tight smile. ‘You can have him back now,’ she gave Luke a look of intense dislike. ‘I’ve finished with him.’

‘Well, really!’ Eve Jeffers gasped.

Sophie didn’t wait to hear any more. She wanted only to escape, to go to her room and be sick, to wallow in her own misery. She didn’t need to look up as she was pulled round, knowing that her accoster must be Luke Vittorio.

‘What do you want?’ she demanded nastily.

‘I do not care to be dismissed in that way,’ he told her coldly.

Sophie didn’t know how she could ever have thought his eyes magnetically seductive. Right now they were like hard angry pebbles, although she managed to meet his gaze with haughty defiance. She wouldn’t be daunted by him, not by a man she hated and despised.

‘Well, that’s too bad,’ she answered. ‘Because I’ve certainly dismissed you. I don’t like you, Mr Vittorio, and I make no secret of the fact.’

‘You most certainly do not. I would be interested to know the reason for this dislike.’

She looked pointedly at her stepmother. ‘I’m sure you’re well aware of the reason. Let go of me!’ She shook off his hand.

‘You are indeed a brat.’ His dark eyes swept over her scathingly.

‘That’s right,’ there was challenge in every curve of her body. ‘I should try to remember that before you go any further.’

He frowned. ‘Any further in what?’

‘You have your girl-friend here, let that be enough for you.’

Luke gave a short husky laugh. ‘You are surely not implying that I am interested in you?’ Again he laughed. ‘You could not be more wrong.’

Sophie snatched her arm out of his grasp. ‘I should damn well think so!’ her eyes spat her hatred of him. ‘I think one female member of this family under your spell is enough!’

He shook his head, his hand falling to his side. ‘You surely do not suspect—–’

‘Suspect!’ she cut in shrilly. ‘I suppose that’s the right word for what you and my stepmother are doing. I more than suspect you, Mr Vittorio, and I’m sure a lot of other people do too.’ Her father included!

‘You could not be more wrong.’

‘I couldn’t be more right! Oh, I’ll admit that my stepmother ought to have more sense, but no doubt you can be flattering enough when you choose to be. She can’t exactly be blamed for her infatuation, I’m sure you encourage her. But let me tell you this,’ a hard determination entered her voice. ‘If my father ever finds out, if you ever hurt him in any way I’ll make you pay for it. I don’t know how, but I’ll find a way.’

‘You love your father very much?’ He appeared unperturbed by her heated threat.

She flushed at his complete disregard for what she had said. ‘Of course I love my father,’ she snapped.

‘And your stepmother also?’ he pressed quietly.

‘That’s a stupid question,’ she said abruptly, aware that her love for her stepmother was not the spontaneous affection she felt for her father but more a love formed out of duty. And she had a feeling this man knew that!

It was something she had worried about when she was younger, but as her stepmother made it clear she preferred not to be bothered with anything maternal she had come to realise that any affection on her part would be regarded with distaste by Rosemary. It had been a painful thing to accept, but at least she could feel happy at her father’s place in her stepmother’s affections. At least, she had! If this man did anything to spoil that …

‘You have not answered me,’ Luke Vittorio broke into her thoughts.

She gave him a look of irritation. ‘I thought I had,’ she said curtly. ‘Just stay away from my family, Mr Vittorio.’

His eyes deepened with mockery. ‘That will not be easy. I am, after all, a guest of your family.’

‘Of my stepmother,’ she corrected. ‘Don’t expect anything but contempt from me!’ She swung away from him, her room seeming even more of a haven now.

‘Sophie? Sophie, where are you going?’

She inwardly groaned as she recognised Nicholas’s voice. She had forgotten his very existence the last few minutes. She fixed a smile on her face before turning to face him.

‘How are you enjoying yourself, Nicholas?’ she asked politely.

‘Well, I—It’s all right, I suppose. But I came here to see you. You haven’t said yet whether you’ll come over for tea tomorrow.’

She was even more determined not to leave the house tomorrow now. She wanted to keep her eye on her stepmother and Luke Vittorio. ‘Not tomorrow, Nicholas. Perhaps next weekend,’ she added at the disappointment on his face.

‘You promise?’ he clutched at her hand.

‘I can’t promise that, Nicholas,’ she answered lightly, doing her best to release her hand without appearing too obvious. ‘Ask me later in the week.’

‘Oh, but—–’

‘Please, Nicholas,’ she put up a hand to her throbbing temple. ‘Don’t go on about it now. I—I can’t think straight.’

He frowned his concern. ‘Aren’t you feeling well?’

She gave a strained smile. ‘It’s just a sick headache. I was going to lie down when you stopped me.’

‘Without saying goodnight to me?’

Sophie sighed. ‘I just want to lie down, Nicholas. Good manners don’t come into it when you feel like this.’

‘No, of course not. How thoughtless of me. I—–’

‘Are you all right, Sophie?’ Her father had come to stand at her side. Her pale face must have answered for her. ‘Come on,’ he put an arm about her shoulders, ’let’s get you up to your room.’

She smiled at him gratefully. ‘Call me in the week, Nicholas,’ she called, hoping he would do no such thing.

Her father guided her up to her room before helping her to undress and get into bed. He bathed her hot forehead for her. ‘Now, what happened to you?’ he asked gently. ‘Too much wine?’

She grinned ruefully, knowing she could never tell him the real reason for her sudden sickness. ‘Probably,’ she agreed.

‘I don’t suppose young Sedgwick-Jones helped,’ he smoothed back her hair. ‘He really is a pushy young man.’

Sophie smiled at the understatement. She looked at her father, noting how handsome he was even now at fifty-five. He was a tall man, not running to fat as many of his contemporaries were, with only faint touches of grey in his thick brown hair, a handsome, distinguished man in his own right, and yet for some reason he and her stepmother had lost that vital spark between them.

Seeing her stepmother’s obvious interest in Luke Vittorio had opened her eyes to so many things. It wasn’t just her parents’ apparent differences in life-style that held them apart, there was something else too. She had only noticed this coldness between them the last couple of years, her stepmother’s more and more frequent visits up to London. Or perhaps it had always been there and she hadn’t noticed it; she had been away at boarding-school until she was seventeen and hadn’t had chance to observe them together that much.

But she was sure her father was still deeply in love with Rosemary, knew that he could be deeply hurt by Luke Vittorio. But she wouldn’t let it happen, would stop it somehow.

She smiled shakily at her father as he tucked the covers in around her. ‘I love you, Daddy,’ she said huskily.

He gave her a strange look, a slight frown on his face. ‘I know you do, poppet. And I love you. Rest now, try to get some sleep. And no wine for you next time.’

Sophie kept up her smile until he had left the room. She didn’t know how she was going to do it, but she was going to stop this affair between her stepmother and Luke Vittorio. After all, there couldn’t be anything serious between them, certainly not on Luke Vittorio’s part anyway; his affairs were well known.

And he had brought Eve Jeffers with him, although she could just be a smoke-screen. The model seemed to know something was going on, but perhaps she didn’t know enough. Or perhaps she didn’t care. There was no chance of the affair becoming a serious one, so perhaps the model was just biding her time. That seemed the most logical explanation, and it would explain her bitchiness towards Rosemary.

Sophie looked up with a start as her stepmother came into the room. She couldn’t remember the last time Rosemary had been in here.

Her stepmother looked down at her. ‘Your father tells me you aren’t feeling well.’

‘No,’ she agreed huskily, kneading the sheet between thumb and finger.

‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘Just a sick headache.’

Rosemary frowned. ‘Your father seemed to think it was the wine.’

‘Yes.’

‘I suppose this is your excuse for your rudeness earlier on,’ Rosemary snapped.

Sophie had known this was coming, had known since her outburst to Luke Vittorio at the dinner table that her stepmother would not let the incident pass. And in the light of her discovery about the two of them Rosemary’s anger was all the more understandable. She wouldn’t want to lose the handsome Italian because of the rudeness of her stepdaughter.

‘Yes,’ she nodded.

Her stepmother’s blue eyes were coldly angry. ‘What sort of an answer is that?’

‘I—Well, I just don’t like Mr Vittorio.’ Was it her imagination or did she see a faint glimmer of relief in her stepmother’s face? If she had it didn’t show now.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, everyone likes Luke.’

‘Well, I don’t,’ Sophie said sulkily.

‘It isn’t that important anyway. He’ll only be painting you, nothing else.’

Oh yes, he would, he would be providing a perfectly respectable reason for her stepmother and himself to keep in contact, to occasionally be seen together. Well, not if she could help it!

‘I don’t want to be painted by him.’

‘You’ll do as you’re told.’ Rosemary had obviously run out of patience with her. ‘And I don’t want any more rudeness to him. Your father would be very shocked if he knew about your behaviour.’

Not if he knew the real reason behind it! ’Yes, Mummy.’

Rosemary gave her a sharp look, suspecting sarcasm and finding none. ‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ and she slammed out of the room.

Sophie kept a watchful eye on her stepmother and Luke Vittorio all the next day, although there was really nothing to witness today. Perhaps Luke Vittorio had learnt by his folly of yesterday, but he seemed to keep a polite distance between himself and the other guests, Eve Jeffers being the only person he appeared to talk to.

Helen duly arrived for tea, blushing profusely after Sophie had introduced her to the artist. ‘Gosh, he’s lovely!’ She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Sophie gave her a disgusted look. ‘He’s arrogant and conceited.’

Helen’s eyes widened before her gaze wandered back to Luke Vittorio as he stood talking to Sophie’s father on the other side of the room. She couldn’t seem to see anything but the handsome Luke Vittorio, loving the way the cream trousers and shirt clung to his muscular body and accentuated his swarthy colouring.

‘Surely not?’ she said breathlessly.

‘Believe me, he is.’ And he had no right to be talking so casually to her father, not when he was having an affair with his wife. But a man like that wouldn’t give a damn.

‘Ooh, look!’ squealed Helen. ‘They’re coming over!’

And they were too, the two men talking amicably together. Her poor father, it wouldn’t occur to him to suspect this man of being interested in his wife.

Her father smiled at the two girls. ‘Mr Vittorio—Luke, has just been telling me that he would very much like to paint you, Sophie,’ he told her triumphantly.

She raised shocked eyes to that dark satanic face, flinching at the cold disdain for her in his eyes. ‘I don’t—–’

‘Of course I will not be able to travel down here for your sittings,’ Luke Vittorio spoke for the first time. ‘You will have to visit me at my apartment in London for that.’