Promise Of The Unicorn. Sara Craven. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Sara Craven
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn:
Скачать книгу
either.’

      Mark shrugged. ‘He agreed to help you when you asked him, didn’t he,’ he demanded unarguably. ‘Anyway, I don’t know what you’re complaining about. A couple of weeks in the sun off the coast of Italy. Where’s the harm in that?’

      The harm, Sophie thought, was Angelo—the shadow in that sun. But it was clearly pointless pursuing any such argument with Mark. She’d seen Angelo’s charm in operation before, and although she was immune, Mark was bound to be flattered by the attention he was receiving.

      She said quietly, ‘If you’re really set on going, I suppose I must agree.’

      ‘Sophie—don’t act like a martyr,’ he appealed with an irritated groan. ‘This could be a turning point in our lives.’ He kissed her. ‘It will be wonderful,’ he whispered. ‘I know it will.’

      She made herself smile, return his kiss, but the warmth of his lips did little to dispel the chill of unease within her—the chill that reminded her that the Marchese family had been manipulating people since the time of the Doges of Venice.

      The party didn’t break up until nearly three in the morning. It had been a great success, and people were leaving with obvious reluctance.

      Mark was among the first to go. ‘I don’t want to out-stay my welcome,’ he murmured as he kissed her goodbye. ‘After all, I want your family to like me.’

      Sophie was troubled, however, as she made her way back to the drawing room. John and Barbara had been little more than civil all evening, and she could imagine their reaction when they learned Mark was going to Avirenze. If Angelo’s ploy was to force Mark into their company, then it clearly wasn’t going to work, and so she would tell him.

      But finding an opportunity to do so was another matter. Angelo was deep in conversation with her stepfather, and they looked as if they might be there for the rest of the night, so at last, she admitted defeat, and said good night to the room at large.

      But once in her bedroom she made no attempt to get undressed. She felt too jittery to rest or relax, and she sat by the window for a while, watching the stars fade.

      It seemed ages before she heard the sounds of movement and muted voices which suggested the party had broken up at last.

      She waited until the house was quiet, then slipped out of her room like a little ghost and made her way to the room Angelo occupied when he stayed with them.

      She knocked, but there was no reply, and she hesitated. Surely, he couldn’t be asleep already. She went to knock again, but as she did so, the door opened abruptly, and she was caught off-balance, her hand raised, feeling foolish.

      She said lamely, ‘Oh, there you are.’

      ‘Where else did you imagine I would be at this hour?’ Angelo returned drily. ‘What do you want, Sophie?’

      ‘I need to talk to you.’

      ‘Then could it be at a more civilised hour? As you see, I was about to go to bed.’

      Yes, she saw. He was wearing a dressing gown in dark red silk, reaching to mid-thigh and loosely belted at the waist. The neck hung open in a deep vee, revealing an expanse of hair-darkened skin. and the long muscular legs were bare too. His black hair looked damp and slightly ruffled, as if he’s just taken a shower.

      His eyes surveyed her impatiently. ‘Well?’

      ‘I’m sorry, but I’d rather it was now,’ Sophie said. ‘I—I won’t keep you long.’

      ‘That,’ he said grimly. ‘I can guarantee.’

      As he motioned her past him into the room, and turned to close the door, Sophie knew a twinge of misgiving.

      ‘Perhaps it would be better if I waited …’ she began.

      She saw the familiar gleam of mockery in the dark eyes. ‘Nervous, Sophie? But of what? Surely not me—but perhaps—yourself?’

      She flushed dully. ‘That is not what I came here to discuss,’ she said icily.

      ‘How disappointing,’ he said, and for a moment, the dark eyes rested on her lips like a disturbing caress.

      She felt the breath catch in her throat, and hurried into speech. ‘Why have you asked us to Avirenze?’

      His brows lifted. ‘I understood from your parents, it had always been one of your ambitions to go there.’

      ‘When I was a child, perhaps.’ Sophie said with hauteur.

      ‘But no longer?’ The long brown fingers cupped her chin, turning her reluctant face up to his. ‘What is your objection?’

      Sophie trod carefully. ‘Because there’s no need for you to go to these lengths. I know I asked for your help, but …’

      ‘You did,’ he said. ‘And now you are questioning the way in which that help is to be given. Isn’t that a little churlish, Sophie?’

      Well, she should have expected that, Sophie thought grimly. She said, ‘I thought you intended to encourage my parents to get to know Mark.’

      ‘I do,’ he said. ‘And how better than during a relaxing stay on Avirenze. It’s a very small island, Sophie mia. It encourages intimacy—at all levels.’

      He was baiting her, but she refused to rise to it. A lot of the wind had been taken out of her sails anyway. ‘You mean—Mother and John are coming as well. I—I didn’t realise.’

      ‘Naturally they will be there,’ Angelo said. ‘Anything else would hardly be decorous.’

      ‘Oh?’ Sophie’s voice was tart. ‘I wasn’t aware that decorum was any big deal with you.’

      He sent her a sardonic grin. ‘But where members of my family are concerned,’ he said softly. ‘It will amaze you how decorous I can be.’

      ‘I’m not a member of your family. I’m a Ralston,’ she said flatly. ‘Will other people be there too?’

      His grin widened. ‘Plenty of other people,’ he said silkily. ‘With a little care, cara, it should be possible for you to avoid me completely.’

      She flushed mutinously. ‘Will Gianetta Vanni be among them?’ She could have bitten out her tongue the moment the question was asked. She expected a crushing snub in return.

      But, all he said, quite mildly, was, ‘You wish me to supply a guest list for your approval, cara?’

      ‘No,’ she snapped, hating him. ‘It’s your island. I suppose you’re entitled to invite anyone you like.’

      He laughed. ‘Graciously spoken. So—have I allayed your fears? Do you still believe that I am willing to help you to your heart’s desire?’

      The words were lightly spoken, but she was aware that he was watching her keenly, and she moved awkwardly, avoiding his gaze.

      At last, she said stiltedly, ‘I’m sorry. I’m clearly putting you to a great deal of trouble.’

      ‘You talk nonsense,’ he said. ‘And it was always my intention to invite you to Avirenze, cara.’ He added softly. ‘I was only waiting for you to become a woman.’

      There should have been some smart comeback to that, but for the life of her, Sophie couldn’t think of one.

      Instead, she heard her voice sounding very young, and rather breathless, as she bade him good night and turned, heading blindly for the door.

      He was there ahead of her, opening it courteously for her. But that meant she had to brush past him, and suddenly he was altogether too close, the cool clean scent of his skin overwhelmingly in her nostrils.

      For a startled moment, her whole body seemed to breathe him, and she knew an overpowering longing to turn to him, to feel his arms close around her, to know