Guilty Page 16
‘Luci thinks you’re holding the reins too tightly,’ Jake murmured beside her, and his knee bumped hers, causing the chestnut to shift in protest.
‘Don’t—don’t do that!’ gasped Laura, paying little attention to what he had said, and Jake reached across to anchor her reins with an expert hand.
‘Hey,’ he said, and she could tell by his expression, he knew exactly what she was thinking. ‘Don’t be scared,’ he added. ‘Caesar won’t hurt you.’
‘That’s easy for you to say,’ retorted Laura, her throat constricted, as much by his gloved hand resting on her knee, as by her fear. ‘It just seems a long way down into the valley, that’s all. And—and—–’
‘And you don’t like it?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ In all honesty, Laura had enjoyed parts of the outing, and she knew she would store up the memory of the beauty of this valley for when she was back in Burnfoot.
‘Good.’
Jake looked into her eyes, and although he said nothing else, she knew he was remembering how she had looked the last time they were alone together. There were little sparks of awareness in the night-dark depths of his eyes, and Laura suddenly understood the meaning of drowning in someone’s eyes. She wanted to drown in Jake’s eyes, and the knowledge was terrifying.
‘Papa! Papa! Cosa stai facendo?’
Luci was tugging his sleeve, wanting to know what they were doing, and, tearing his gaze away from Laura, Jake turned to his daughter. ‘Niente, cara, nothing,’ he assured her soothingly, gesturing for her to lead the way down the winding track. ‘We were just admiring the view, that is all,’ he continued in English, but slowly, so that Luci could understand what he was saying. ‘Avante, cara. We are coming.’
Luci looked doubtful, but she urged her pony forward, and Jake used his hold on the chestnut’s reins to draw him away from the ledge. Then, patting the beast’s flanks, he urged him past his own mount, returning the reins to Laura, as she came up beside him.
‘OK?’ he asked, looking at her mouth, and Laura’s lips parted nervously.
‘I suppose so,’ she said, a little tensely, and, keeping her eyes on Caesar’s neck, she let him take her down the rocky incline.
There were terraces of vines on the lower slopes, and the sharp scent of citrus trees in blossom. It was a smell that Laura knew, from now on, she would always associate with this area, and her sweating palms cooled as the ground levelled out.
Luci came back to ride with her father as their mounts trod through lush meadows, bordering the river. It meant that Laura had little chance to talk privately with Jake, but, realising that once they got back to the house, it might be even harder to get him alone, she said tautly, ‘What time is Julie coming?’
Her question had evidently disconcerted him, for he glanced swiftly at his daughter, as if gauging her reaction, before giving Laura a wooden look. ‘Julie,’ he said at last. ‘I do not know.’
Laura noticed the ‘do not’, rather than the more casual ‘don’t’, and was immediately suspicious. ‘She is coming, isn’t she?’
Jake sighed, and lifted his broad shoulders in a dismissing gesture. ‘Julie does not like my country—only its cities,’ he responded, guiding his horse nearer the water. Then, swinging down from the bay’s back, he looked at Laura’s hands, clutching the thin strips of leather that controlled her mount. ‘You’re still holding the reins too tightly,’ he said. ‘Can’t you feel the way Caesar is trying to get the bit between his teeth?’
‘Damn Caesar!’ Laura’s gaze skimmed Luci’s startled face, before coming to rest on that of the man standing beside her. ‘That’s not an answer, Jake, and you know it!’
‘Perhaps it is the only answer you are going to get,’ he retorted coolly. ‘Shall I help you down?’
‘No!’ As Luci prepared to swing out of her saddle, Laura shook her head. ‘I—I want to go back.’
‘Back?’ Jake’s features hardened. ‘To the castello?’
‘No. To England,’ declared Laura unsteadily. ‘I should never have come.’
Jake’s mouth compressed. ‘Not again, Laura. Now—will you get down, or must I haul you out of that saddle?’
Laura shook her head again, jerking the reins, so that Caesar’s head came up, and his ears went back in protest. The gelding shifted backwards, as if trying to escape the bite of metal against the soft inner side of his mouth, but Laura was unaware of the animal’s unease. She was too intent on showing Jake that, although he might have some precarious control over her body, he had none over her mind.
‘I’m going back,’ she said again glancing over her shoulder. The walls of the castello were just visible above the trees, and although she realised she was still some distance from the house she was determined he should not think he could dictate what she could or could not do. She had ridden out here, hadn’t she? Why shouldn’t she ride back?
But she had spoken without giving any thought to the animal beneath her. It never occurred to her that the gelding might have a mind of his own. She had been nervous on the ridge, it was true, but she had learned to trust him. And, because he had brought her safely down into the valley again, she had assumed she was in control.
However, her behaviour had unsettled Caesar. The animal had sensed her anger, and her frustration, without realising it was not directed towards himself. Her tight hold on the bridle, her anxious knees digging into his sides, excited him. He was not usually a nervous beast, but Laura’s persistent use of the restraint disturbed him, and he whinnied loudly as she tugged his head around.
What happened next seemed to occur as if in slow motion. Jake had evidently sensed that the gelding was becoming agitated, and he lunged for the reins himself, as Caesar backed off. But although he managed to grab the bridle, the horse was too excitable to control. He reared wildly on his hind legs, almost throwing Jake off his feet, and Laura slid off his back, with only a muffled gasp of protest.
Jake let go of the animal then, and Caesar, finding himself free at last, galloped away. But Laura didn’t notice. She was too busy fretting over the fool she had made of herself again, and hoping she didn’t look as stupid as she felt.
But she barely had time to register the fact that the sleeve of one of her new blouses was covered in mud, before Jake flung himself on to his knees beside her. Uncaring that his daughter was still sitting on her pony, staring at them with wide, anxious eyes, he ran his hands intimately over Laura’s body, checking her legs and arms, and skimming the slim curve of her waist.
‘Come si sente?’ he demanded hoarsely, and then, realising she was gazing at him uncomprehendingly, he translated, ‘How do you feel? Are you all right?’ He cupped her rueful face between his fingers. ‘If Caesar has hurt you, I’ll get rid of him!’
Laura’s tongue appeared to circle her lips, which wasn’t the most sensible thing to do in the circumstances. She could tell from the sudden darkening of his eyes that Jake was remembering how her tongue had felt in his mouth, and she guessed that if Luci had not been there he would have repeated the experience.
‘I—I’m fine,’ she assured him, a little unsteadily none the less, though he was not to know his nearness was as much to blame as Caesar’s rearing. But it was difficult to think of anyone but him, when he was looking at her with passionately concerned eyes, shattering her defences, with the unmistakable tremor in his hands. ‘Honestly,’ she added, realising she was in very real danger of showing him her response, ‘I just got a shock, that’s all.’
‘A shock!’
Jake’s lips twisted, but before she could say anything else, Luci appeared at his elbow. ‘The signora—she has hurt her head, Papa?’ she asked, her English remarkably good for someone of her age, and with reluctance Jake released Laura, and got to his feet.
‘Signora Fox is a little shaken, bambina,’ he replied, offering Laura his hand to get up, and, although she would have preferred to get up independently, she accepted his assistance. She wasn’t entirely sure her legs wou
ld hold her, and she was more than a little relieved to find she was able to stand without support.
‘Dov’e Caesar?’ Luci soon lapsed back into her own language, and Jake dragged his gaze away from Laura’s pale face to reply that the horse was probably back at the stables by now.
‘He’ll be all right, won’t he?’ Laura ventured, running a trembling hand over her hair, and Jake’s eyes darkened.
‘Of course he will,’ he declared succinctly. ‘So long as you are.’
‘Oh—oh, I am.’ Laura nodded vigorously, and then winced at the sudden throbbing in her head. ‘Well—almost,’ she conceded, giving Luci a rueful smile. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve spoiled your outing.’
Luci shrugged, not quite knowing how to deal with this situation. It was obviously not what she had expected, and her expression mirrored her indecision.
However, her father’s terse rejoinder brought her head up. ‘You haven’t spoiled anything!’ he declared, giving his daughter an impatient look. ‘Luci, get on your pony. We’re going back.’
There was nothing Laura could say. She knew she couldn’t walk back to the castello, and she hoped Luci wouldn’t blame her too much for ruining their outing.
Still, it wasn’t until Jake captured the reins of his horse, and brought him back to where Laura was standing, that she realised what he was intending to do. Until then, she had assumed that he and Luci would ride back to the house, and probably return with some sort of vehicle to fetch her. Now, a shiver of panic swept over her at the thought of getting on to the stallion’s back.
‘You—you don’t expect me to—ride him, do you?’ she gasped, and Jake’s expression softened.
‘You and me both,’ he reassured her gently.
Laura swallowed. ‘Couldn’t—couldn’t I just—ride Luci’s pony?’ she murmured, and Jake expelled his breath on a heavy sigh.
‘No,’ he said, looping the horse’s reins over his shoulder, and cupping his hands. ‘Come on. Put your foot in here, and I’ll help you. That way you won’t get tangled up in the stirrup, and I can get up behind you.’
It wasn’t a very elegant accomplishment, but when Jake swung into the saddle behind her Laura forgot her qualms in the sheer pleasure of feeling his muscled thighs enclosing hers. And when his arms came about her waist to take the reins, she felt the reassuring strength of his body all around her. It was pointless to deny it. No one else made her so aware of being a woman.
And, even though she had initially been alarmed at the idea of riding on the huge bay stallion, Laura was almost sorry when they trotted into the stable-yard some twenty minutes later. For the past fifteen minutes, she had abandoned any attempt to resist the desire to enjoy the experience, and it wasn’t until Jake had dismounted and was reaching up to help her down, that she saw his strained expression. It was only then that she comprehended how her yielding body must have affected him, and the reasons why he had become progressively less relaxed during the ride were blatantly obvious.
‘I can manage,’ she said, a little breathily, but Jake ignored her. He waited until she had swung her legs across the pommel, and then lifted her out of the saddle. He lowered her to the ground slowly, allowing her to slide down the whole length of his body, and Laura couldn’t help but be as aroused as he was by the time she found herself on her feet.
‘Ti voglio,’ he said, brushing her parted lips with his, and then walked away as Luci emerged from the stables.
Jake’s parents were most concerned to hear that Laura had had a fall, and, although she tried to assure them it had been nothing, Sophia insisted that she rest for the remainder of the day.
‘It is the shock that we do not always realise we have sustained,’ she said, as they sat at lunch, in a delightful conservatory, overlooking the gardens at the back of the house. ‘Is that not so, Nico? Laura must take care of herself.’
‘I think Giacomo can be left to ensure that Laura does not overdo things, Sophia,’ Count Lombardi replied smoothly, and Laura felt a renewed sense of duplicity for the ambiguity of her position.
‘Your—your son—has been very kind,’ she began, ignoring the intensity of Jake’s eyes upon her. ‘But—but really—I think my daughter—–’
‘Ah, yes,’ Jake’s mother broke into her stammered attempt at confession, with polite dismissal. ‘We know your daughter, Laura. You must be very proud of her. She is a most successful model, is she not?’
‘I—well, yes.’
Laura was taken aback, but, although she looked at Jake for inspiration, his expression was now unreadable.
‘Yes, we met her in Rome,’ went on Sophia Lombardi affably. She looked at her son. ‘Giacomo introduced us.’
Laura swallowed. She suddenly realised how little she knew about her daughter’s association with this family. How little she knew about these people at all. For all she knew, they might condone their son’s behaviour. And if even half what the gutter Press wrote was to be believed, sexual relationships, of one kind or another, were common enough among people of his background.
The maid came to clear their plates, and Laura decided not to say any more. If the Lombardis knew that she was Julie’s mother, then maybe her daughter was expected to arrive that afternoon. She hadn’t forgotten Jake’s avoidance of an answer earlier, even if subsequent events had tended to overshadow its importance. She could only wait and see. She had discovered she didn’t have the stomach to pursue it.
She escaped to her room after lunch, grateful that she had an excuse for doing so. But every sound she heard, every footfall outside her door, had her heart beating wildly, and she eventually gave up trying to rest, and went out on to the balcony instead.
It was very peaceful out there. The only sounds were those of the birds and insects, with the occasional drone of an aircraft to remind her this was the twentieth century. Everything else had an agelessness about it, not least the castello itself, and she found it incredible to believe she was actually here, a guest in such surroundings. It seemed a long way from Burnfoot, she reflected wistfully, and not just in miles.
She sighed. Or course, she would be going home tomorrow. Whatever happened—Julie notwithstanding—she had no intention of prolonging her stay. Which reminded her of the argument she had had with Jake earlier. She couldn’t help wondering if she would have had the courage to leave today, if she hadn’t fallen off the horse, and made such an idiot of herself. It was encouraging to believe she would, but now she was not so sure that she would have gone through with it. After all, if she had managed to ride back to the castello, she would still have had to find a way to get to Pisa. And what excuse could she have given Jake’s parents? It wasn’t their fault that she found their son so disturbing.
Her lips tightened. It was easy to be brave in the heat of the moment. But accomplishing her boast was something else again. Apart from anything else, she didn’t even have a return ticket to London. A major drawback to your hosts’ having their own private plane, she thought ruefully.
It was seven o’clock before Laura left the balcony to prepare for dinner. The afternoon had given way to evening, and the sun was leaving caverns of darkness in its wake. The valley was settling down for the night, and tiny pinpricks of light were appearing between the trees. Smoke drifted from the few farmhouses that nestled in the valley, and a solitary bell was tolling from the church in the village.
But apart from this evidence of human habitation, there had been no sign of any activity at the castello. Although Laura had spent the afternoon waiting for the sound of a car to prove that Julie had arrived, she was disappointed. Her daughter was not coming, she acknowledged flatly. Had she ever believed she was?
But she stopped thinking at that point. She knew that if she ever conceded she had had serious doubts about Jake’s intentions before she’d left London there would be no living with herself. And if she ever allowed herself the luxury of admitting that she had come here, knowing that her daughter was unlikely to return from Los Angeles, and fly straig
ht on to Italy, she was lost. For her own sanity, she had to go on believing. Anything else was madness …
CHAPTER TWELVE
LAURA packed her case before she went to bed. It was a small gesture, but she felt better after she had done it. It proved, to herself at least, that she meant what she said, and that was important to her.
Not that anyone was likely to offer any objections, she admitted painfully. She had thanked the Lombardis for their hospitality before coming upstairs, and if they had had any doubts about the arrangements they had been too polite to say so. Besides, she argued, climbing between real silk sheets, that she noticed had been changed after only one night’s usage, she had only come for the weekend, and it was Monday tomorrow.
As for Jake, she preferred not to think about him. In spite of the fact that he had been waiting for her when she’d gone downstairs, and had wanted her reassurance that she had suffered no after-effects of her fall, she had left him in no doubt as to her feelings. Although it had been difficult to speak to him in his parents’ company, her accusing eyes, and the determined way she had shaken off his hand, when he’d attempted to escort her into dinner, had been pointed enough; and Jake was no innocent. He knew exactly what was wrong with her, and during the meal that followed his manner had grown increasingly withdrawn. Only when he’d met her gaze across the table, had she glimpsed a little of what he was feeling, but she had refused to be distracted by his brooding contemplation. It was all his fault, she told herself tensely. He had tricked her into coming here, and now he had to face the consequences.
All the same, she couldn’t entirely exclude herself from all responsibility. As she lay there, watching the curtains moving in the draught from the balcony doors, which she had left slightly ajar, she had to admit that she hadn’t offered much resistance, when Jake had told her that Julie wasn’t coming with them. She could have insisted on spending the night in London, and waiting until her daughter was able to accompany her, but she hadn’t. And if she was perfectly honest, she would have to say that she had given in, as much because of her own guilty attraction to Jake as in response to his persuasion.