Count Valieri's Prisoner

chapter TEN



MADDIE FOLLOWED LUISA along the broad gallery, quivering with what she told herself was sheer temper, and nothing else.

Because he was not irresistible. That was what she had to keep telling herself. That was why she had to banish from her brain every one of those dangerous, intrusive memories, reminding her how his hands and mouth had swept her away to that endless moment of sweet, pulsating rapture.

She took a deep breath, clenching her hands in the pockets of her cut-offs. Yes, she’d behaved stupidly—in fact, unforgivably—earlier that day, but she was not about to disgrace herself a second time. And she had to stop beating herself up about it. Transfer her anger to him instead.

From now on, she told herself angrily, he could keep his questionable remarks, along with the smile in his eyes and its unspoken promise of future delight for the girl in Viareggio, or whatever other floozie might happen to take his fancy, as he seemed incapable of being faithful for even twenty-four hours.

And that was the end of it.

Her dungeon reference had not been serious, but after her escape, she’d expected to find herself shut up somewhere even more remote and twice as secure as the room with the doors had been.

Yet halfway along the gallery, Luisa had turned into a wide corridor and was briskly leading the way to a room at its end.

Maddie desperately tried to recall the Italian for ‘Where are we going?’ but without success. She really needed someone, she thought, to explain what was happening, even if it was in dodgy English with attitude.

‘Dov’e Domenica?’ she inquired. ‘Is she still...?’ She mimed someone throwing up.

Luisa shrugged and burst into a flood of incomprehensible speech, leaving Maddie none the wiser.

By this time they had reached the doors, and the girl flung them open and stood aside for Maddie to precede her into the room beyond.

She paused, catching her breath as she looked around her at a small but charming sitting room furnished with delicate sofas and chairs, all brocade-covered in blue, green and gold, grouped round a pretty marble fireplace, and a few elegant pieces of furniture including a writing desk at least two centuries old.

The walls were panelled in silk, and a cushioned seat ran the length of the long window.

I suppose this is more trompe l’oeil, and I’m really standing in a cupboard, Maddie thought, taking an uncertain step forward.

But the window, when she touched it, was the genuine article, looking down on to a formal garden, its geometric beds and gravelled paths now lit by a watery sun, making the stones and leaves sparkle.

She turned. ‘It’s lovely. Bella.’

Luisa beamed, then indicated the open door behind her.

Maddie walked past her into a large bedroom, occupied by a massive canopied bed curtained in dark blue silk. The headboard and posts were made from some rich golden-brown wood, intricately and beautifully carved with festoons of leaves, flowers and grapes.

The same wood had been used to build the row of fitted closets which framed another doorway. Beyond it, Maddie could see the gleam of ivory tiles, and the glimmer of gold fittings. A bathroom, she thought, with a sigh of longing. Warm water to wash the bits of dried leaf, dust and whatever insects had inhabited last night’s mattress out of her hair, then to stretch out in and relax.

It felt like a wonderful dream. In fact, almost too wonderful...

She looked round at Luisa, who was placing the travel bag at the foot of the bed.

‘For me?’ She pointed to herself incredulously. ‘I am to sleep—dormire—here?’

The girl nodded vigorously, her eyes dancing. She went to the closets and opened a couple of the doors, letting Maddie see that the rest of the clothes she’d brought to Italy were hanging there, or neatly folded in the adjoining drawers and shelves.

While in the next cupboard were the jewel-coloured nightgowns and robes which were all she’d had to wear up to now.

Side by side, Maddie thought, swallowing. These two different people that I’ve somehow become and their very different lives.

One of which had to go, and soon, because she was convinced that her enforced stay at the Casa Lupo had to be nearing its end, and that she would be returning home to sanity.

When Andrea Valieri would undoubtedly be hoping she would tell Jeremy and his father that she’d been treated well during her captivity.

Why else would she have been moved like this from her former room to what had to be the best guest suite?

Although she had to admit that, apart from last night, for which she had only herself to blame, she’d been kept pretty much in the lap of luxury from the start. She’d even become quite fond of all those doors.

She swallowed. Whatever she said when she reached London, she would have to choose her words with great care. After all, the Sylvesters would also be looking for revenge.

And I wanted him punished, she reminded herself, feeling suddenly as if a knife was twisting slowly in her gut. I wanted them to lock him up and throw away the key—which could still happen. Only now, I’m not sure how I feel—or if even that is the truth...

‘Signorina?’

She realised that Luisa was watching her anxiously and summoned a smile.

‘Grazie, Luisa. I want nothing more.’ She spread her hands. ‘Niente.’

The girl nodded, showed her the embroidered bell pull beside the fireplace in the sitting room, then whisked herself away.

Left alone, Maddie headed for the bathroom with her toiletries and a change of clothing.

While the vast tub was filling, she stripped, then slid into the gently steaming water, submerging herself completely. She sat up with a gasp, pushing back her drenched hair and wincing a little as she felt the sting of the heat on her grazes.

Most of the bruising had emerged too, making her look rather like a piebald pony, she thought ruefully. Not the ideal image for the long-awaited reunion with Jeremy. On the other hand, it was precisely because of the wait that she’d been forced into desperate action. And so she would tell him. Or would she...?

She found she was examining her body more carefully, as if searching for tell-tale fingerprints. A different mark of Cain left by Andrea Valieri to betray her. Or to remind her how close she had been to betraying herself.

But she wouldn’t think like that, she told herself, reaching with determination for the shampoo. She couldn’t afford to.

In the end, it took three washings and a lot of rinsing with the hand spray before her hair felt really clean again.

As for the rest of her, she thought, switching off the spray, then gathering her hair into a rope and wringing the water from it, well—that might be a different matter.

She heard a faint noise and turned her head.

Andrea Valieri was standing framed in the doorway, his expression arrested, intent as he watched her, his eyes glowing with inner fire.

He said softly, ‘Che bella sirena,’ and took a step forward.

For a moment, Maddie was transfixed. When she found her voice, she said hoarsely, ‘Don’t come any closer.’ She lifted her hands to cover her breasts, all too aware that she was being absurd, and hearing her tone become stormier in consequence. ‘How dare you just—walk in here like this. Get out. Get out now.’

He halted, his brows lifting. ‘Dio mio—I am here to bring you this.’ He held up the jar of antiseptic cream he’d used the previous evening. ‘I thought that you might need it.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Then kindly put it down and go.’

He complied with the first half of the request. ‘Why so agitated, carissima?’ he asked softly, as Maddie sat rigidly, hands still clamped to her chest. ‘Your body is hardly a mystery to me.’

‘I don’t need any reminder of that,’ she said, adding bitterly, ‘To my abiding shame.’

‘Ah.’ Andrea was silent for a moment, then gave her a level look. ‘For my part, I remember only delight. But you had only to say “No”, Maddalena.’

‘I’m aware of that.’ She bit her lip. ‘Do you imagine it improves the situation?’

‘At this moment, I doubt that anything could,’ he returned with faint dryness. ‘So, why did you not stop me when you had the chance?’

‘Because I’d had a terrible time in your beastly forest,’ she flung back at him. ‘And seeing that wolf was the final straw. I was scared—stressed out and you—you took advantage of me.’

‘Why, Maddalena, what a little hypocrite you are,’ he said softly. ‘If we had not been interrupted, any advantage would have been mutual, and you know that, so do not pretend.’

‘I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t know what I was doing,’ Maddie defended a mite feebly. She rallied. ‘Unlike you, signore. You, of course, had your own agenda.’

He shrugged. ‘I wanted to make love to you, mia bella. It is hardly a state secret.’

‘Is a few hours of celibacy really such a strain?’ she asked witheringly. ‘You’d only just got back from your lady in Viareggio when you came after me.’

‘Portofino,’ he corrected evenly. ‘I was visiting a lady in Portofino not Viareggio.’

Maddie gasped. ‘You think the location actually makes some difference?’

‘When making accusations, I find it is better to be factually accurate.’ He paused. ‘I have noticed that you do not seem to share my view.’

‘I have no wish to share anything with you, Count Valieri,’ she said stormily. ‘And that includes this roof. When will I be free to leave here?’

‘I regret that the decision still remains in other hands than mine, mia bella. Or is that something else you prefer to forget?’ He reached down the white towelling bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, and held it out to her. ‘That water must be getting cold, Maddalena, and I would not wish you to take a chill.’

He absorbed her mutinous expression, sighed, then, draping the robe over the side of the tub, he turned his back and walked to the door.

Maddie could not pretend to be sorry as she scrambled out of the tepid depths of the bath, and huddled herself into the robe. It dwarfed her, reaching to her ankles, and the sash went twice round her slim waist before being tied in a secure knot.

As she rolled up the sleeves, a disturbing thought struck her. She said, ‘Is this robe yours?’

‘Sì.’ He turned. ‘But it has been laundered, so you will escape contamination.’

She remembered other things—like that handsomely carved bed in the other room, and her mouth dried. She gestured round her. ‘And this bathroom—these other rooms are yours too?’

‘Naturalmente.’ He leaned casually against the doorframe. ‘The whole house belongs to me, so how could it be otherwise?’

She said, ‘That—isn’t what I mean, and you know it.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘You are concerned that you are sharing my private suite.’

‘Not concerned,’ she said. ‘Furious. Are you surprised?’

‘I think there is little more you could do to surprise me, Maddalena. So, let us rather say—disappointed.’

‘Why?’ Maddie lifted her chin. ‘Because your nasty little scheme isn’t going to work?’

The dark brows lifted. ‘Is that how you regard my wish to be your lover?’

‘Now who’s being a hypocrite?’ she demanded stonily.

‘My desire for you is real and genuine, Maddalena.’ He smiled suddenly, and she felt her heart thud. He added softly, ‘Let me join you for the siesta later and I will prove it.’

‘And that’s really the only thing on your mind, Count Valieri?’ Fighting the sweet seductive wave of warmth his words had induced, Maddie shook her head. ‘I don’t believe it.’

‘With you in my arms, carissima, how could it be possible for me to think of anything else?’ He paused. ‘And it might be that I also wish to keep you close to me to avoid any further unwise attempts at escape.’

‘Or you might also be looking for another way to punish the Sylvesters,’ she said. ‘Or at least Jeremy. Which seems far more likely.’

‘Why—when I have done what is necessary already?’

‘Because they haven’t responded to your blackmail.’ She drew a painful breath. ‘So taking me, and letting my fiancé know about it, would be a very special form of revenge. The stiletto through the ribs, up to its hilt.’

In the silence that followed, Andrea was no longer smiling. ‘What a vivid imagination you have, mia bella,’ he drawled. ‘So what do you think I would say to him? That you indeed have hair like the sun, but your body is sheer moonlight. That you have a tiny mole on your right hip that I have kissed. That you taste of honey and roses. All the exquisite intimate details about you that he must already know and which would hurt him the most to hear from another man?’

‘Yes.’ Maddie felt as if she was burning all over. ‘If—if that’s how you wish to put it.’

‘I do not.’ The words hung harshly in the air. ‘I take the reparation owing to me and no more. What you suggest is an insult—to yourself, Maddalena, as well as to me.’

‘Then let me go back to that other room.’ Away from here. From you. She added with difficulty, ‘Please...’

‘But it does not please me,’ he said curtly. ‘You will stay here, but only as a matter of security. You will sleep alone. I shall use the bedroom that adjoins yours.’

She lifted her chin. ‘Does the door between us have a lock?’

‘Sì.’ He paused, his mouth twisting. ‘But no key.’

‘And I’m expected to believe you—trust you?’ she asked raggedly. ‘Not a chance, signore. But I promise you this. That if you dare to come near me again I’ll fight you. And next time it will be with every breath in my body.’

‘How quickly things can change,’ he drawled cynically. ‘But your vow will never be fulfilled, Maddalena. Because in this next time you speak of, my moonlight girl, you will come to me, of your own free will and giving yourself completely. And that, too, is a promise.’

He walked out, closing the door behind him, leaving her to stare after him, a hand pressed to her throat.

* * *

It soon became a very long day.

Maddie began it sitting on the edge of the bath, waiting for her inner trembling to subside. Or for Andrea to return...

When it became apparent this would not happen, she rose slowly to her feet, took the hand-dryer from the wall and carefully attended to her hair, smoothing it into shining order once more.

Hair like the sun...

Her heart pounded as she remembered the other things he’d said. Not that they bore any real relation to herself. They were simply the well-worn phrases of a practised womaniser, and she should treat them with the contempt they deserved.

His parting shot would have been unforgivable if it had not been so ludicrous. As if she would ever offer herself in that way. So why had it reduced her to stunned silence? she asked herself shivering.

But it was his query ‘Why did you not stop me?’ that she found beating in her brain, because pleading ‘temporary insanity’ was no excuse at all, and she knew it.

At the same time it occurred to her that if Jeremy had ever thought her body was like moonlight, he hadn’t mentioned it.

She applied the antiseptic cream Andrea had brought her, then, leaving the borrowed robe in a crumpled heap on the tiled floor, she dressed in a plain blue skirt, and short-sleeved white top, and made her way back to the sitting room, curling up on the window seat.

Honey and roses.

She closed her eyes, emptying her mind, forcing away, with the words, memories of the magic of his lips and hands. Trying to restore herself to the rational world, but without success.

It was almost a relief when a tap on the door signalled the arrival of Eustacio with her lunch—soup and a baked pasta dish in a delicious sauce, followed by fresh fruit. After making sure she had everything she needed, he informed her in his stilted English that his Excellency the Count had been called away on urgent business, but hoped she would do him the honour of dining with him that evening.

She could produce all kinds of feasible and dignified excuses to make it quite clear to her host that she didn’t wish to be alone with him under any circumstances. For heaven’s sake, the list had to be endless, with self-preservation at the top.

Instead she found herself murmuring her acquiescence.

And as she ate her meal, she wondered where the urgent business had taken him. Viareggio—or Portofino?

Not that it was any of her concern. What mattered were his negotiations with the Sylvesters, because surely this situation couldn’t go on much longer.

Please, she whispered under her breath. Please let it be so. Because I have to get out of here. I must...

As afternoon passed into evening, she changed into the black dress she’d worn at the opera, and was back, sitting on the window seat, looking down into the darkening garden when Luisa came to fetch her.

She followed the girl back down to the hall and watched as she pressed a section of panelling which immediately swung inwards.

Easy when you know how, she thought, bracing herself as she walked into the salone beyond. And stopped, staring at the empty space above the fireplace.

For a moment, she thought she was being subjected to yet another trick of the eye. That if she blinked, or moved slightly to left or right, the picture that usually hung there would be in its accustomed place.

But as she moved closer, she realised all that remained was a slight discoloration on the surrounding wall.

‘I had it removed.’

Maddie swung round and saw Andrea standing in the doorway. Unsmiling, he was wearing an elegant dark suit, and, apart from his loosened tie and the open top button on his shirt, looked remote and powerful as if he was about to chair some vital board meeting.

There was certainly no trace of the lover who had shown her a glimpse of Paradise that morning. But that had to be a good thing...

She experienced a sensation like a fist slowly clenching in her stomach, and hurried into speech.

‘Removed? But why?’

He shrugged. ‘After your encounter with a live wolf in the village last night, it seemed wiser. A reminder of the experience might cause you more fright—more stress,’ he added pointedly. ‘And neither of us would wish that.’

Maddie flushed, struggling to keep her voice steady. ‘But the protection of the species—all the work that’s been done—is part of your heritage.’

‘To Count Guillermo, the cause was admirable,’ he said. ‘However its purpose has been achieved, and my own interests lie in other directions. Please believe that the absence of the picture is no hardship. I would prefer this place to become again what it was intended to be—the House of Summer.’ He gave a faint smile. ‘You have provided the incentive.’

‘The House of Summer,’ she repeated slowly. ‘That sounds—really lovely.’

‘I shall make it so.’

In the pause which followed, Andrea’s eyes met hers and the silence between them suddenly began to change. To shimmer with tension, and an awareness as endless as the space between them.

So why did it seem that just one small step would take her into his arms? As if some unseen, unknown magnetic force was drawing her to him.

Drawing her to her own destruction...

A realisation that gave her the strength to act. To break the spell that held her before it was too late.

She moved, swiftly and restlessly, tearing her gaze from his and staring down at the floor as she wrapped her arms round her body in a gesture of total negation. And heard across the room the harshness of the brief sigh that escaped him.

A sigh that found an echo in the depths of her being, but was not uttered aloud.

Instead she heard herself say with quiet intensity, ‘Let me go. You have to let me go. You boasted once that you’d never taken a woman by force, yet that’s how you’re keeping me here. It can’t go on like this, and you know it.’

‘I do indeed know,’ he said. ‘But it will not continue for much longer.’

Her throat constricted painfully. She made herself look up. Look at him. ‘You mean there’s news? You’ve heard from London?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I have not.’

‘Then end it,’ she said passionately. ‘Cut your losses and send me back. Because he—Jeremy’s father—will never give in. You don’t know what you’re up against.’

‘You are wrong, Maddalena. I have known for a long time. Almost my whole life. And I too do not—give in.’ He paused. ‘And you? Are you still determined to marry into this family?’

She lifted her chin. ‘I’m marrying the man I love. Not his family. A very different proposition.’

His mouth curled. ‘I am glad you think so. I hope you will not be disappointed.’ He walked to the drinks trolley, and mixed her a Campari soda, pouring whisky for himself.

He handed her the drink, and Maddie took it, being careful to avoid brushing his fingers with hers.

He raised his glass, his mouth twisting. ‘To your future happiness, carissima.’ He added sardonically, ‘Whatever form it takes.’

He swallowed half the whisky, and turned away.

‘To happiness,’ Maddie echoed huskily, and found the pungent taste of the Campari turning sour in her throat as she drank.