Stay still... dont speak. Carlo had been rapping out autocratic instructions in every direction, including hers.
Im fine
Keep quiet, she had been told.
Its only my head and I want to get up... She had begun trying to move.
A brown hand like a giant weight had forestalled such daring.
Look...I want to get up, she had said again, embarrassed eyes flickering over the gathering crowd of onlookers.
You are not getting up... you could have injured your spine.
Her temper had begun to spark. My spine is OK...Im OK
We will have a doctor tell us that. He had continued to stare down at her with the most phenomenal intensity and then he had run a forefinger almost caressingly along her delicate jawbone. I shall never forgive myself for hurting something so incredibly beautiful...
Leah had been totally useless, having hysterics somewhere in the background. Jessica had found herself in a private ambulance, accompanied not by her friend but by Carlo.
She will follow in my car, he had asserted, getting in the way of the paramedics while simultaneously telling them what to do.
She just hadnt had the strength to fight Carlo Saracini off that day. Her head had been aching fit to burst and her stomach churning with nausea. She had shut her eyes to escape, telling herself that this volatile and domineering foreigner was simply attempting to make amends for an accident which hadnt been his fault in the first place.
She had been taken to a clinic, subjected to an alarmingly thorough examination against her will and tucked into a bed in a very expensively decorated room.
I want to go home, she had protested to the nurse. This is so unnecessary.
Carlo had strode through the door, splintering waves of vibrant physical energy that seemed to charge the very atmosphere and drive out all tranquility.
Wheres Leah? she had whispered, shaken that he was still around.
I had her taken home. She was too distressed to be of any assistance. I understand that your parents are abroad and will not be home until tomorrow. Do you wish me to contact them?
I dont even know your name, she had begun through clenched teeth.
Carlo Saracini, he had murmured with a slashing and brilliant smile. How do you feel?
I just want to go home... dont you ever listen to anything people say?
Not if I dont want to hear it, Carlo had admitted.
Look, all this... She had indicated the fancy room with embarrassment. Its not necessary. I fell into the road. Your car didnt touch me. Its not as if Im going to sue you or anything, and all this fuss.
Is my wish, he had inserted silkily, scanning her slender shape beneath the bedclothes with blatant appreciation, making her cheeks ignite into sudden colour and sweeping up to her face with yet another smile. I cant take my eyes off you. You may have noticed that. Then, you must be accustomed to a great deal of male attention.
Not since I got engaged, she had
muttered stiffly, infuriated by the fashion in which he was openly looking her over as if she were an object on a supermarket shelf there for the taking.
He had stilled, golden eyes narrowing and flaring. You belong to another man?
I belong to no man, Mr Saracini! Jessica had snapped.
You will belong to me, he had murmured with utter conviction.
She had honestly thought he was nuts. Nobody had ever talked to her like that before. Mind you, she had been to Greece once on holiday and had noted that radical feminism had yet to find a foothold there. But that a male dressed with such apparent sophistication in a superbly tailored mohair and silk blend suit, a male who spoke with an air of culture and education, should make such primitive statements had astonished her.
Im getting married in six weeks, she had informed him flatly, involuntarily studying his strikingly male features before she realised what she was doing and hurriedly looked away again.
Well see... And Carlo had laughed indulgently, the way you laughed when a child said something innocently amusing.
Jessica sank back to the present and discovered that she was shivering. Her first thought was for her father. No matter what he said, he shouldnt be alone. Grabbing up a coat, she let herself out of the tiny cottage she rented and climbed into her car to drive over to his house.
But your fathers at work, Mrs Turner. What would he be doing home at this time of the day? Her fathers housekeeper studied her with a questioning frown.
Jessica swallowed hard, fighting to keep her face unconcerned. I thought he was finishing early.
Well, he didnt mention it to me.
Ill catch him later. Jessica climbed back into her car.
Dear God, where had her father gone? She must have been out of her mind to let him wander off like that in the state he was in! Another little voice asked her what she was doing. Her father had said he needed time on his own. She was not his keeper. Shouldnt she respect his wishes? But the nagging sense of urgency nibbling at her nerve-endings wouldnt leave her alone.
Reluctantly she went home again. Carlo... she couldnt get Carlo out of her mind. Would she go to the Deangate Hall Hotel to crawl and beg and plead as once her father had done with her mother? Her stomach gave a sensitive heave. What would be the point? She knew Carlo Saracini. There was no way he would let her father off the hook. Carlo wanted revenge. He couldnt touch Jessica but he knew just how deep the bond was between father and daughter. It would be a sweeter revenge than any that dark Machiavellian intellect might have calculated.