The Italian's Passionate Revenge

CHAPTER SIX

WHEN the doctor had left, Vincente said, ‘You were right.’

‘The doctor said it’s not so bad,’ Elise reminded him.

‘It’s worse than I wanted to admit. I should have listened to you.’ Vincente took her hand. ‘Thank you for looking after me, and I suppose I should apologise for dumping myself on you. It never occurred to me to ask first.’

‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ she mused.

‘Am I being a pain in the neck?’

‘No more than usual. Luckily I have a sense of humour.’

He managed a smile and lay back, grimacing.

‘I must call my secretary,’ he said. ‘There are some files I need her to bring over first thing tomorrow.’

‘You don’t mean to work?’ she demanded.

‘I’ve had one day off, and that’s all I can afford.’

‘But you’re a sick man.’

‘Officially I’m not.’

‘To hell with officially. You can’t move without wincing.’

‘The doctor left me strong painkillers. I’ve had two and they’ll start to work at any minute,’ he protested.

‘If I gave vent to my feelings at this moment you’d need even stronger painkillers.’

He regarded her with appreciation. ‘You have the makings of a really splendid bully,’ he said.

‘You’d better believe it.’

Vincente made his phone call, giving a string of orders to his secretary, for whom Elise felt profoundly sorry. She made him a light lunch and went to the bedroom to find him off the phone, looking weary. For a moment his pain was clear, then he saw her and immediately looked cheerful. She wasn’t deceived.

‘Is it very bad?’

‘Not really. The worst thing is feeling like a complete damned fool. What kind of idiot makes such a mess of things?’

‘You do things that no other man can do,’ she reminded him, smiling.

He grunted with laughter and gasped. ‘Please don’t make me laugh.’

‘All right. Just have something to eat.’

He gave a helpless grimace. ‘I’m going to need help sitting up properly.’

She guessed it maddened him to ask, but when she came to the bed he put his hands up around her neck and used her for support.

‘Thank you,’ he muttered.

‘Hey, it’s not the end of the world,’ she rallied him. ‘So you had to accept my help! So what?’

‘You’re being very reasonable, of course,’ he growled.

‘But to hell with reasonable!’ she said sympathetically.

‘Something like that.’

‘It’s just a pity it had to be your back,’ she said. ‘It’s one of those things that isn’t dangerous but hurts like hell. Has it ever happened before?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘My father had a bad back. It came and went. He’d have a few good months then some silly thing would make it go again and he’d be in agony. It can strike anyone.’

‘If you mean me-nonsense!’ he said at once.

‘You mean it’s never happened before?’

‘Once or twice, yes, but-’ He stopped and sighed. ‘I guess I’m just like your father.’

‘In many ways,’ she said, amused. ‘He hated anyone knowing the truth. He thought it was a sign of weakness, which was very silly of him,’ she added significantly.

‘Not silly at all if the sharks are circling,’ he replied at once.

‘And I suppose there are plenty of sharks circling you? I wonder just how many enemies you have.’

Vincente made a wry face. ‘Enough not to want them to know I have a bad back. Did your father have many?’

‘No, he wasn’t a big tycoon. He was a sweet-natured man who raised me after my mother died. I was a sickly child and he kept having to take time off from work to look after me, and so he lost a lot of jobs.’ A fond smile overtook her face. ‘He so much wanted-’

Elise broke off as his cellphone rang. He answered it with a sound of exasperation and she slipped away.

She left him to work, going back later to collect the tray. Finding him asleep, she removed everything quietly.

When her bedtime came she sought for a demure nightie. Not finding one, she settled for an outrageous one and slipped in beside him. The bed was large enough for her to be several feet away, so propriety was observed-sort of-but she could be there to look after him.

He awoke in the small hours and she helped him to the bathroom, remade the bed, helped him back, and brought him some more painkillers.

‘Thanks,’ he growled.

‘You don’t mean thanks,’ she said cheerfully. ‘You actually hate me because you had to lean on me there and back. Shall I go away?’

His hand closed over hers. ‘Stay,’ he said briefly.

She pulled the covers up over him. ‘Go back to sleep.’

In the morning she helped him again and fed him. Then they had an argument because he refused more painkillers.

‘They send me to sleep,’ he complained. ‘My secretary’s coming this morning. I need to be alert.’

The secretary turned out to be a formidable woman, bearing files and a laptop computer. They worked together for a couple of hours, then she left, full of his instructions. Vincente got to work on the laptop and divided his afternoon between that and the telephone.

But at last there came the moment when even he had to agree that enough was enough and take some more painkillers. Even then he fretted about something he hadn’t done.

‘Forget it,’ she said firmly. ‘Go to sleep.’

‘Will you be here?’

‘Just try to get rid of me.’

A grunt was his only reply but it told her all she needed to know, and she smiled as she snuggled down.

In the early hours she awoke to find him still sleeping and went to sit by the window, watching light creep over the city. She felt peaceful for the first time since she’d arrived here.

‘Buon giorno!’

He was awake, smiling at her from the bed, and she went straight across to sit beside him.

‘Can I get you something? How’s the pain?’

‘Better, as long as I don’t move. I don’t need pills just now. Talk to me instead.’

‘All right, let’s talk about your big meeting and how you’re going to slay everyone.’

‘No, just for once I’ll shut up and listen. Go on talking about your father. You were going to tell me about something he badly wanted, when the phone rang. What was it he wanted?’

‘I forget now-oh, yes-he wanted to make a lot of money and give me treats, but there never was any money. As though I cared when I had such a wonderful father.’

‘Tell me about him.’

‘What I remember most is that he was always there for me, always ready to play games and laugh at silly jokes.’

He grew still, watching her, fascinated by the smile that touched her lips. It was fond and indulgent, containing the whole history of a happy childhood. Vincente thought of his own childhood, and the father he’d rarely seen.

‘Go on,’ he said.

She found it easy to slip back into that blissful time. A whole host of incidents rose in her mind, crowding each other as she hurried to tell Vincente. Suddenly she was happy, as though her beloved father was there with her again.

‘You really loved him, didn’t you?’ Vincente asked, remembering how she’d gone to visit the grave on the day they’d left London.

‘Yes, I did. I wish he were here now, but he died a few months back. If only-’

‘If only what?’ he asked as she stopped.

‘No, it doesn’t matter.’

‘Tell me,’ he urged. Something told him this was important. When she still hesitated, he reached out and touched her gently. He had the feeling that he was on the verge of a revelation.

‘I came to Rome to study fashion, and I was so stupid that I never even asked how Dad raised the money to send me here. He told me he’d had an insurance policy that was to pay for my higher education and it matured at just the right moment. I believed him, because I wanted to.

‘Of course he’d really borrowed the money at a huge rate of interest, then couldn’t afford to make the payments. He was working in Ben’s business at the time and some money came his way that he thought he could take without anyone knowing. So he did, and Ben found out.’

‘What did Ben do about it?’ he asked, with sudden urgency.

‘He came out to Rome to tell me what Dad had done, and that he was going to turn him over to the police. I had to stop him, and there was only one way.’

‘Are you saying-?’

‘Ben wanted me. I was his price. He knew I…He knew I didn’t love him, but it made no difference.’

Elise had been on the verge of saying that she loved Angelo, but something stopped her. She still had an uneasy sense of having betrayed her young love with the new feeling that had taken her by storm, and now she couldn’t speak of him. Not to Vincente.

‘You married Ben-to save your father?’ Vincente asked slowly.

‘It was the only way. I couldn’t let Dad go to prison, not when it was my fault he was in such a mess.’

She had the feeling that he’d grown suddenly tense.

‘And that was why you married that creature?’ he asked in a voice with a touch of urgency.

‘Nothing else could have made me do it. I know everyone thought I was lucky-a poor girl who’d snapped up a rich man. But I’d never have married Ben if it hadn’t been necessary.

‘And the real cruelty was that Dad died just two months before Ben did. It could have been so different. If only he’d lived a little longer, we’d have been free together. But it was too late.’

‘You’re crying,’ he said gently.

‘No, I’m not. Not really.’

‘Yes, you are. Come here.’

Vincente reached out and drew her to him, and she found that she really was weeping-for herself, her father, her ruined dreams. But that it should have happened in the arms of this harsh man, of all people, left her amazed. She tried to stop the flood, even now fearful of yielding a point to him in their battle. But the battle seemed very distant at this moment, and now she could sense a tenderness in him that had never been there before, even in their subtlest love-making.

‘Sorry,’ she said at last. ‘I don’t normally give in like that.’

‘Perhaps you should. You might cope better in the long run.’

‘I cope fine.’

‘But you might need some help.’

‘I couldn’t ever let Ben see me cry.’

‘No, he’d have enjoyed it too much,’ Vincente said dryly.

‘How did you know that?’

‘Anyone who ever met him would know that.’

She gave a muffled chuckle.

‘What is it?’ he wanted to know at once.

‘Just that I never saw you as an agony aunt.’

‘I have many hidden talents.’

‘I’ll bet you work to keep that one very well hidden.’

He smiled, but the smile faded as he considered her words. Apart from his mother, Elise was the only person who’d ever seen this side of him. In fact, he’d only dimly been aware that it existed. But in the last few minutes it had come roaring out of its lair to protect her.

Her unhappiness was unbearable to him, but more piercing still were the words she’d uttered a few minutes earlier. She’d married Ben under duress. There had been no soulless pursuit of money, oblivious to who was hurt. She’d done what she had to do for love of her father.

As Vincente leaned back on the bed head, holding her against his chest, he felt a weight being lifted from his heart and, revealed beneath it, was a joy he’d never before allowed himself to recognise.

But he turned his eyes away from that joy. It was too much, too unfamiliar, too complex. He would think about it later.

‘You were lucky,’ he said. ‘To have had a father like that.’

‘What about yours?’

‘He was a good father in his way, but everything in him was focused on business. He had to dominate and rule, and he wouldn’t let up until he had all the power he wanted.’

‘Is that why you’re the same?’

There was a silence before he said, ‘I guess so. It was the way to get his attention. I remember once…’

There in his mind was an incident he hadn’t thought of for years; himself, the eager child hoping for praise, his father, impatient of anything that would distract him from his agenda.

So Vincente had countered by becoming the agenda. At school he’d excelled at maths, science, information technology and anything else that might help him become a businessman in his father’s image. And it had worked. He’d been taken into the firm and immediately proved himself a chip off the old block.

‘Did that make your father proud of you?’ she asked.

‘Oh, yes, he was impressed.’

‘Did that make you happy?’

‘It was what I wanted,’ he said evasively.

She was too wise to press the point.

Vincente had been given more and more responsibility, had seized it gladly, never seeing the road he was travelling or where it led. When his father had his fatal heart attack Vincente had been, although still in his twenties, ready to take over-ready in all the right ways, and all the wrong ones.

That had been ten years ago, and since then he knew that the qualities he’d started with-an unforgiving ruthlessness, a scorn of weakness, a readiness to duel to the death and give no quarter-had all been emphasised and given a sharper, crueller edge. His presence here with this woman proved it, for reasons that she didn’t know and which made him uneasy right now.

That thought made him sit up sharply, so that she almost fell out of his arms.

‘Is something the matter?’

‘No,’ he said quickly, ‘it’s all right; I can get out of bed. Go to sleep.’

It was painful but he managed. He needed to be alone to think. From the safety of the window-seat he looked back at the bed, where she had closed her eyes, and tried to work out what had happened to him.

It had always been simple. You kept your eye on the target, you did what you set out to do, and if people didn’t like it, then tough. If they feared you, that was good. Where women were concerned you played fair, behaved generously, and stayed safe by choosing the kind of woman who understood the game. And you never, ever weakened.

Until now.

He’d been prepared for anything except what had happened to him tonight. Or had tonight merely been the culmination of something that had been creeping up for a long time, creeping so silently that he hadn’t seen the danger until it had sprung out of nowhere?

He blamed himself. A good entrepreneur planned for everything and was always ready to fight back. Those were the rules.

But the rules didn’t tell you what to do when the desire to fight had drained away, replaced by a treacherous delight in the company of a woman you’d always known was dangerous, and now seemed more dangerous than ever. If he had any sense he’d put a stop to this now, send her back to England and never see her again.

Vincente sat for a long time, watching her as she lay asleep.

They settled into a routine. She nursed and fed him, kept him hidden from the maids on their daily calls, made sure he was always at his best for his secretary’s visits, and massaged his back. She’d done this for her father and knew the trick of easing the pain, even if only temporarily.

Sometimes they talked as they had done at the beginning-about childhood, or other things, in a lighter vein.

‘I want to hear all about your other women,’ she said one night with a chuckle. ‘Go on, entertain me.’

They were drinking wine, side by side in bed, propped up by pillows, and he gave her a comical, cynical glance.

‘If you think I’m falling into that trap you have a very poor opinion of me. Try again.’

‘Shame!’ she cried. ‘What about that little flat you keep? The perfect place for orgies.’

‘That was chosen for its proximity to my office, so that when work overwhelms me I don’t have to go the full distance home,’ he said loftily.

‘Yeah, right!’

‘Well, it’s not a home, anyway.’ With a sudden note of surprise he said, ‘This feels more like home.’

‘With me paying slavish attention to your every whim? That’s your idea of home?’

‘Certainly,’ he said with a grin. ‘What else?’

She chuckled and spilt her wine, so that she had to dab herself and him.

‘How did you know about my flat?’ he asked after a moment.

‘I told you before, I’ve been reading about you in the papers.’

‘Did they say anything else about me?’ he asked in a carefully blank voice, not looking at her.

‘Just the same story endlessly recycled-glutton for work et cetera. Since you don’t ever seem to give interviews, they’re kind of stuck. They just said the flat was handy for your work, almost monk-like in its austerity. I invented the bit about orgies.’

‘That’s a relief.’

She looked at him impishly. ‘So you can relax. They haven’t found the true story.’

He returned the look. ‘Keep trying. You’ll get nowhere.’

They laughed and let it drop. But gradually it seemed to Elise that he was less willing to talk than he had been. She wondered if his life had been truly unhappy, or whether he was afraid of accidentally revealing professional secrets.

She was discovering that every time she thought she had Vincente’s measure he could surprise her again. On the day before the shareholders’ meeting he made her a gift that took her breath away.

‘Shares?’ she exclaimed, bewildered.

‘Now you’re a shareholder in the firm, so you can attend the meeting,’ he explained. ‘Call it your nursing fee.’

‘But-a few shares, yes-but this is a fortune.’

‘You’re a very good nurse. Look what you’ve done for me.’

To demonstrate his point he walked up and down, finishing before her with a flourish.

‘All your work,’ he said.

Now he could walk more easily, but if he had to stand for any length of time the pain returned and this worried her because she knew he would need to stand a great deal during the meeting.

It wasn’t his first trip out. The previous day he’d been to visit his mother, and had managed pretty well. But then he hadn’t spent much time on his feet. Today would be different.

‘Sit down as much as you can,’ Elise was unwise enough to say now.

‘Sit down? While my enemies are standing up? I don’t think so.’

‘Well, take some painkillers first.’

‘And risk falling asleep? No way!’

They travelled together in his chauffeured car and parted at the door. Once inside, she found herself escorted to a seat at the front, clearly on his instructions. Elise was prepared for the worst and found the meeting as stormy as she’d expected. She had very little idea of what was going on because her Italian couldn’t cope with the furious invective that came up from the floor and back from the platform. She only knew that Vincente was being attacked, and was attacking back in fine style.

Watching him carefully, she could see the moment when the pain began, but she doubted if anyone else would notice. The only outward sign was that he became more aggressive, more determined to crush opposition. Even with her limited understanding, it was clear to Elise that he was dominating the meeting, persuading everyone to his point of view or, if not actually persuading them, leaving them no choice but to do it his way.

It wasn’t amiable but, like everything else about him, it was exciting.

Afterwards, she lingered as he came down the steps from the platform. People crowded around to shake his hand and it seemed to her that every shake made him wince, although he never lost his smile or his air of assurance.

Then, to Elise’s dismay, someone clapped him heavily on the back, insisting that they must all have a good lunch to celebrate.

‘I’m afraid not,’ Vincente said, maintaining his smile by sheer will-power. ‘Now the meeting’s over there’s more work to do than ever.’

‘But you got your way.’

‘That’s why there’s work to do. You go to lunch. Ah, there you are.’

He seemed to become aware of Elise for the first time, although she was sure he’d seen her. As she came forward he slipped an arm about her shoulders.

‘Let’s go,’ he said.

To the others it looked merely as though he was walking away with a beautiful woman. Only Elise knew that he was leaning on her heavily.

His car was waiting outside. As he settled down in the back seat, closing his eyes, Elise produced the painkillers and a small flask containing mineral water, handing them over in silence. He nodded and swallowed thankfully.

He must have given the driver her address in advance, because they headed straight there, reminding her what he’d said about it feeling like home.

Elise didn’t speak until the front door was safely shut behind them, then said firmly, ‘Get undressed, go to bed and I’ll give your back a rub.’

She joined him a few minutes later, pulling back the sheet to find him naked underneath. The strain was still there in his face, but he relaxed a little as she began to massage him.

‘So you won,’ she said, beginning to knead the tense muscles.

‘Of course.’

‘There’s no “of course” about it.’

‘That is, when I have my confederate looking after me. Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you.’

‘Well, I didn’t want to risk my shares losing value, did I?’

‘Well done. I’ll make a businesswoman of you yet.’

But the next moment he winced and she said, ‘Stop trying to put a brave face on it. I’m not someone you need to impress.’

‘No, I wouldn’t get far trying that, would I? You’ve seen me at my weakest.’

‘But weakness isn’t important,’ she protested.

‘I think it is.’

‘No, we’re all weak sometimes, in different ways. What matters is how we act when we’re well and feeling strong enough to be cruel. Surely that’s how you should really judge someone.’

‘Are you thinking of anyone in particular?’

‘You mean Ben? Yes, of course. But I soon felt that everyone he introduced me to was the same. All cheats and back-stabbers. Every one. Is there one man in a thousand who can actually be trusted?’

‘Can’t I?’ he asked curiously.

‘Well, I wouldn’t like to take you on in business. I don’t think you’d have much scruple about anything you did.’

‘But do you trust me as a man?’

After a moment she said, ‘I don’t really know you, do I?’

‘I thought we knew each other very well.’

‘Only in one way. When we hold each other and make love-then I seem to know you through and through.’

‘But isn’t that the best way?’

‘No,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘It’s an illusion. I don’t really know what’s going on inside your head.’

‘If it comes to that,’ Vincente said after a moment, ‘nobody knows anything about anyone else’s thoughts. Men and women, we all keep our secrets from each other. Perhaps we need to. You and I-’ he hesitated before going on in a slightly forced voice ‘-both have things we know about ourselves that the other wouldn’t understand, or forgive.’

‘Forgive?’ she echoed. ‘What a curious word to use.’

‘Life would be impossible without forgiveness,’ he said sombrely. ‘And the hardest person to forgive may be ourselves.’

Elise wanted to ask him what he meant by this, for there was some note in his voice that hinted at an untold story. But when she next looked at him he’d closed his eyes.

Later that night she came to join him in bed. From his breathing, he was asleep, lying on his back with the sheet pushed down, so that most of his naked body was revealed.

Wryly, she wished he would wear something. To sleep beside him like this was straining her self control. It was little more than a week that they had been together, yet it seemed like an eternity since she’d been free to clasp him without having to worry about hurting him.

It was annoying that he seemed unaffected by the swift mounting desire that afflicted her. He seemed to have no problem at all controlling himself, but perhaps that was only because he’d been feeling bad.

Gently, not to awaken him, she eased herself into the bed and put out the lamp, but there was still enough light in the room for her to discern his outline. She would be strong and not yield to temptation, yet even as she vowed this she was gently pushing back the sheet just a few inches…just a little more…

At last she saw what she longed to see. Even in his sleep he was aware of her, wanted her, responded to her. Scarcely breathing, she reached out to caress him gently with her fingertips, feeling the tremors that went through her. She must draw back now, before it went too far…

‘Don’t stop there.’

She gave a little gasp and turned to find him grinning.

‘How long have you been awake?’

‘It’s hard to be certain. I came up from the depths into a delightful dream of you doing what I’ve been wanting for days. I’m still not sure which is dream and which is reality.’

‘Let me help you,’ she whispered.

She began moving her hand again, but purposely now where she had been gentle before, and had her reward as he grew hot and hard in her hand. At any moment she was sure he would toss her on to her back and climb over her, but instead he lay there watching her with a smile of satisfaction on his face.

‘I guess I’m going to have to do all the work.’ She chuckled. ‘You really fancy being some Eastern potentate being ministered to by the harem, don’t you?’

‘You forget I have a bad back,’ he reminded her. ‘I mustn’t do anything that would tire me.’

‘Hah!’

‘But I admit I like the harem idea.’ He grinned. ‘So get on with your work and pleasure me, wench.’

‘To hear is to obey, master.’

She applied herself to the task with a will, watching his face where she could clearly see that he was fighting the temptation to reach for her. They were laughing as they contended with each other, each balancing seduction with control, struggling for supremacy in the battle that gave spice to their relationship.

He partly yielded, stretching out his hands in the direction of her breasts, but she teased him by staying just out of reach.

‘Not…fair,’ he complained in a gasp.

‘All right, I always fight fair,’ she said, leaning forward just enough for his fingertips to caress her nipples and almost shouting aloud as the electric tremors went through her, seeming to pulverise her, making her fight for control. To her delight she managed to hold her own, still the one in charge-just.

‘You’re cheating,’ he groaned.

‘How? Did you like that?’

‘Yes, do it again!’

‘How am I cheating?’

‘Taking advantage of an injured man. I could really hurt myself, moving too much.’

She muttered a soft curse at herself for being so carried away that she’d forgotten that. Leaning down, she lay against him and promptly found herself tossed on to her back and her legs parted by a determined knee. Then he was inside her, moving powerfully, sending through her a searing excitement that almost made her explode with pleasure.

She just managed to find the strength to gasp, ‘Cheat! Liar!’

‘Of course. I always win, no matter what I have to do, and you should have known that by now.’

She made a wild sound as he drove into her, then again. She tightened her arms around his neck lest he should have any insane idea of getting free, thrusting back against him with all her might.

‘Do you hate me?’ he muttered in her ear. He was laughing.

‘Yes-yes, I do-don’t stop.’

He increased his power, taking what he wanted without gentleness or consideration or good manners. It was shocking, but it carried her into a new universe, and she forgave him, she forgave him-oh, how she forgave him!

Much later, as they lay together, exhausted, she said, teasing, ‘So much for being ministered to.’

‘I’ll tell you this,’ he murmured in her ear, ‘if a potentate had you in his harem he’d dismiss all the others.’

‘So I should hope,’ she said, sighing blissfully.