Flame of Desire Read online

She flicked her hair back with childish defiance. ‘Wait and see.’

  This time he didn’t attempt to stop her, but the sound of his throaty chuckle followed her. Her parents were already in the dining-room when she entered through the open patio doors. She avoided the sharp angry glance of her stepmother and went over to kiss her father on the cheek.

  ‘Good morning, poppet,’ he said gruffly. ‘Luke,’ he nodded to the younger man.

  Sophie turned to see Luke standing behind her. She hadn’t realised he had followed her into the house.

  ‘Simon, Rosemary.’ He held a chair back for Sophie to sit down. ‘We were out for an early morning stroll.’

  Sophie’s lips clamped together. He was giving them the impression that they had arranged to go out together. He was adept at turning circumstances to his advantage, something she would have to remember in future.

  ‘Coffee?’ her stepmother asked him sharply.

  ‘Thank you,’ he nodded acceptance. ‘Sophie and I have been discussing the wedding,’ he spoke to her father.

  Rosemary almost dropped the coffee-pot, she was shaking so much, whether with anger or some other emotion Sophie couldn’t tell. ‘Surely it’s a bit soon to be discussing that? There’s no hurry, is there?’ she asked shrilly.

  Sophie didn’t think there was either. The longer she delayed being his wife the better. When he had free licence with her body she would become his slave in bed whenever he wanted her; she just couldn’t fight the physical attraction between them.

  ‘No hurry,’ Luke agreed smoothly. ‘Although I do not think we should wait too long.’

  ‘I have to get used to the idea of losing my daughter,’ Simon smiled. ‘I don’t want to lose her too soon.’

  ‘I understand your sentiments,’ Luke sipped the coffee. ‘But I did explain last night that Sophie and I had been—impetuous. I would not like any repercussions from that impetuosity to put in an appearance before we have been legally bound together.’

  Her father paled. ‘You mean—’

  ‘I mean it is highly likely that Sophie is carrying my child.’

  ‘Oh!’ Sophie’s grasp was cut short by the pressure exerted on her knee by Luke’s long fingers. She gulped back the rest of her protest, as those fingers pressed painfully into her skin.

  ‘I see.’ Her father didn’t look as if he could take many more blows like this. ‘That’s something that hadn’t occurred to me,’ he said dully.

  ‘No, and I am sorry to mention it. But you do understand…’

  ‘Oh yes, we understand,’ Rosemary said sarcastically. ‘Sophie could be pregnant, so you’re doing the decent thing and marrying her.’

  ‘Rosemary!’ her husband’s shocked voice reprimanded.

  Luke gave her a cool look. ‘I did not say that.’

  No, he hadn’t said that, but he hadn’t exactly denied it either! Sophie was fuming. It was bad enough that he had given her parents a completely erroneous impression without making things worse.

  Her stepmother shrugged. ‘It’s fairly obvious what’s happened. Sophie became infatuated with you and forced you into a situation no man could resist. That doesn’t mean you have to marry her.’

  ‘Rosemary!’ her husband exclaimed sharply.

  ‘Well, it’s true, Simon. Sophie—’

  ‘I was not an unwilling participant,’ Luke cut in coldly.

  ‘Rosemary, please,’ her husband said wearily. ‘They want to get married, and it seems it would be better if it were sooner rather than later. We’ll make all the arrangements from here, Luke. I want my daughter to have the perfect wedding.’

  Sophie could have cried at the raw pain in her father’s voice—and she could cheerfully have slapped Luke’s arrogant face for him. With everything he said he made things sound worse. To say she could be expecting his child!

  To her shame she felt an inner glow at the thought of bearing his child. Would they have children? It gave the idea of her marriage to Luke a permanence she hadn’t thought of. But of course a child could be a possibility between them, although she didn’t think Luke would let that happen as easily as he was letting her parents believe.

  Luke seemed to feel no remorse when she attacked him with it later, the two of them in the room that had been converted into a studio, supposedly to work on the portrait for her father’s birthday.

  He shrugged off her attack. ‘What difference does it make? Besides, the decision has been made and I see no reason to delay carrying it out. I do not intend to spend months as a fiancé when all I want is to get you into my bed.’

  ‘It didn’t occur to you that you’ve deeply shocked my father with your lies?’ Her eyes sparkled angrily.

  ‘He is a man of the world, he would know how easy it is to be carried away by the more basic emotions, so carried away that we did not think of taking the necessary steps to prevent the possibility of a child.’

  ‘But we haven’t done anything like that!’ She could almost have stamped her foot with frustration.

  ‘You have only to say the word…’ he said meaningly.

  ‘You know very well what I mean,’ she snapped. ‘That painting has put us in a position where we have to marry each other, but do you—’

  ‘I do not have to marry anyone.’

  ‘Do you have to make things sound worse than they are?’ she carried on talking as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘Implying that I could be pregnant!’

  ‘But you could be, in thought if not in deed.’

  She blushed, the knowledge that he thought of making love to her strangely exhilarating. ‘But I’m not! And I’m sure my father didn’t need that added shock.’

  ‘And your stepmother? How do you think she feels?’

  ‘She hasn’t spoken to me about it.’ But no doubt she would, choosing her moment carefully!

  ‘Neither has your father, but you profess to know his feelings on the matter.’ Luke came over and straightened the angle of her jaw before going back to his easel. ‘I realise it is hard for a father to accept that his little girl is a woman, but I do not intend waiting for you while your father comes to terms with the fact. I desire you, and I want you in my bed as soon as possible.’

  ‘Luke!’ Her face was scarlet with embarrassment.

  He put down his paintbrush, his mouth quirking with amusement. ‘Why should I lie? You have been destined for my bed since we first met.’

  ‘Since I went over the handlebars of my bicycle with such elegance?’ she teased with brittle humour.

  He nodded. ‘Since then. I tried very hard to get you to give me your address, but you proved obstinate in not telling me.’

  ‘That was because—’

  ‘Because you knew we would meet later, because you intended making a fool of me.’

  She looked at him beneath lowered lashes. ‘And did I?’

  ‘I do not think so.’ He grinned. ‘Am I not getting what I wanted all along.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘To marry me?’

  He smiled, suddenly looking much younger and less forbidding. ‘You in my bed,’ he corrected, coming over to the sofa where she sat. He cupped her chin, forcing her to look into his velvet brown eyes. ‘I will be a very jealous lover,’ he warned her softly. ‘But I will be a generous one.’

  ‘I don’t want your money,’ she protested.

  His long sensitive fingers played with her parted lips. ‘I was not talking about money,’ he said huskily.

  ‘Oh.’ She couldn’t meet the look in his eyes.

  Luke laughed throatily. ‘It is good to see you can still blush.’

  ‘And why shouldn’t I?’ she challenged crossly. ‘I’m not the one with experience.’

  He frowned, suddenly serious. ‘Does it really bother you that much that there have been other women?’

  ‘Yes! No! I don’t know. I—men are usually the experienced ones, aren’t they.’

  ‘Usually,’ he agreed. ‘And I really have no way of erasing my past. But I want you to know that not o
ne of those women meant more to me than a brief affair. I can say no more.’

  ‘How do I know I’ll mean any more?’

  ‘You cannot know,’ he answered truthfully. ‘But I have never married before, that should tell you something.’

  ‘It tells me you must want me pretty badly,’ she said softly.

  ‘Insanely so,’ Luke acknowledged huskily. ‘I have since the moment I saw your hair like sunlight and your eyes like violets. You have the power to drive a man wild with wanting you, and you will be mine.’

  ‘Yours…’ She felt mesmerised by the seduction in his voice.

  ‘Yes, mine.’ His head bent and he claimed her mouth in a searching kiss, gently prising her lips apart with the tip of his tongue.

  She welcomed the throbbing urgency of his body against her, her hands unbuttoning his shirt to touch the smooth skin beneath. His mouth moved the long length of her throat, his warm breath caressing her skin.

  Luke leant back to look at her, his hands moving to the buttons on her blouse, releasing each one with slow deliberation. He watched every expression on her face, lightly touching the tip of her hardened nipple as she gasped her pleasure.

  Sophie shuddered with reaction, wanting to break away but unable to. She watched his dark head as his mouth closed about her breast, arousing her to further delight.

  ‘Oh, Sophie,’ he groaned. ‘This is not the right time or place for this.’

  She could feel him fighting to regain control, feel the tautness of his thighs, the raggedness of his breathing, and although he protested he made no effort to stop kissing her. ‘Luke, you—you will be patient with me when we’re—when we’re married?’ she asked breathlessly.

  He was still touching her breasts, enjoying her pleasure as much as his own. ‘Patient with you?’ he asked vaguely.

  She licked her lips. ‘With my inexperience.’

  He drew a deep shuddering breath and moved back to rebutton her blouse for her. ‘I will try. But you tempt me until I can think of nothing but you beneath me as I make love to you. I am going to be a very demanding husband.’

  She didn’t think she was going to mind that. Right now she didn’t think she was going to mind that at all.

  Luke stood up, buttoning his own shirt with shaking fingers. ‘I think you should go now, Sophie. With you my control does not seem to last very long.’

  She swung her legs to the floor and stood up unsteadily. ‘But the portrait…’

  He smiled. ‘I have a feeling it will not be completed until we have been married for some time, until I can look at you and not want to make love to you.’

  She smoothed her skirt down to cover her embarrassment, sure that no Englishman would talk so bluntly about desire and lovemaking. But then she wasn’t marrying an Englishman. ‘You managed to almost finish the other one,’ she reminded him.

  His brown eyes teased her. ‘I was driven on to do that one to the exclusion of all else. But I will not need to look at it for much longer, soon I will have the real thing.’

  To think of Luke looking at that painting whenever he was alone, desiring her, made her cheeks burn. ‘How soon, Luke?’

  ‘Very soon if I have my way, cara. Please go now. You understand?’ he asked gently.

  She understood, leaving the room as he requested. Not that she thought she would have had the same resolve if they had been alone at his apartment. Everyone believed them to be lovers and so she saw no harm in it becoming a reality, would welcome it even. Anything to stop this constant let-down feeling when their lovemaking wasn’t consummated.

  Her stepmother was alone in the lounge when she got downstairs, making her wish she had checked before entering. Rosemary’s barbs were the last thing she needed right now, with her lips and body still tingling from Luke’s caresses.

  ‘My God, you look a mess,’ was her stepmother’s opening comment. ‘I don’t need to ask what you’ve been doing.’

  Sophie moved to look out of the window. ‘Where’s Daddy?’

  ‘In his study,’ her stepmother answered shortly. ‘I suppose you think you’ve been very clever, trapping a man like Luke into marriage.’

  ‘I didn’t—’

  ‘Didn’t you?’ Rosemary’s voice rose shrilly, her blue eyes venomous. ‘Well, don’t think a little thing like your marriage will put a stop to Luke and me meeting. What we have is very special, you see, so special that Luke wouldn’t even discuss it with you. When he’s become tired of you our relationship will still be just as intense. He’s had girls like you before, they mean nothing.’

  Sophie was white. ‘You forget one thing, he’s marrying me.’

  Rosemary smiled. ‘Only to placate your father. Things could become very awkward for Luke if it was known he had an affair with you—your father is an influential man. After all, I could hardly marry him myself, now could I? No, I think it’s much better this way, keep it in the family, so to speak.’

  ‘You can’t mean that!’ Sophie was incredulous.

  ‘You just wait and see. I’ll still have Luke long after he’s tired of your innocence and naïveté.’

  ‘I—I think I’ll go to my room.’ Sophie felt sick.

  ‘You do that,’ her stepmother said with a satisfied smile. ‘But remember one thing, Luke is mine—and he’ll stay mine long after he’s forgotten you.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT was the society wedding of the year—everyone said so, from the media to the two hundred selected guests. It caused quite a stir, the announcement of the marriage between the daughter of Simon and Rosemary Bedford to the celebrated artist Luke Vittorio.

  Sophie had been horrified at the amount of publicity they had attracted, and found herself followed by the press wherever she went. Luke seemed immune to their followers, taking it all in his stride. But then he was used to living his life in the public eye, something she would have to accept as his wife.

  Because of Luke’s insistence the wedding had taken place only six weeks after it had first been put to her father, the rush and bustle of the last few weeks making it almost impossible for them to spend any time alone. Consequently Sophie now felt herself married to a stranger, almost faltering as she had seen the look of arrogant possession on Luke’s face as she walked down the aisle on her father’s arm.

  The reception seemed no less frightening, the congratulations and kisses all receiving a plastic smile in return that seemed frozen on her lips. Luke’s long fingers rested lightly on her elbow, although she had no doubt they would clamp on like steel tentacles if she attempted to move from his side. They hadn’t spoken to each other at all, her nervousness increasing as the time for them to leave came closer and closer.

  ‘I believe it is time you went and changed,’ Luke spoke to her. ‘We have to leave shortly.’

  She had to stop herself making a mad dash for the house; the reception was being held in a marquee in the garden. ‘I—Yes, I—I’ll go now.’

  Deep brown eyes looked down at her white frightened face. ‘Would you like me to come with you?’

  Her face coloured scarlet. ‘No! No, I—I think I can manage.’

  His firm mouth twisted into a smile. ‘I was not offering to help you change, merely undress.’

  She knew that—oh yes, she knew that. But his desire frightened her too, as everything about this marriage did. As from today she would be completely under Luke’s dominance, a prisoner of her own desire for the hardness of his body and the temptation of his mouth.

  ‘I won’t be long.’ She moved quickly away from his side to go to her bedroom.

  Her two suitcases stood just inside the door ready for their departure, the rest of her things already moved into Luke’s apartment in London. She slumped down on the bed, taking a last look round the room. She had slept here for the last time; she and Luke would be given a room with a double bed when they visited.

  She looked up with a feeling of apprehension as her stepmother came into the room, beautifully turned out in a sapphire blue sil
k suit and matching Juliet cap. She looked young enough to be the bride herself, and Sophie had seen Luke watching her as she moved among the guests, his expression telling her nothing of his thoughts.

  ‘Why are you just sitting there?’ Rosemary demanded, opening the wardrobe doors to take out the purple dress Sophie had chosen as her going-away outfit. They were flying straight to Paris for the week, so the dress had been chosen for travelling in as well as for its attractiveness. ‘Shouldn’t you be changing?’

  Sophie stood up, moving with dragging steps, unzipping the flowing white wedding gown and stepping out of it as if in a dream. She took off the long veil, releasing her hair from its confining curls to flow smoothly down her back.

  Her stepmother tutted impatiently. ‘Do hurry up, Sophie. Everyone is waiting for you downstairs.’

  Including Luke! Oh God, she felt so nervous. He was her husband now, she was Sophie Vittorio, his wife.

  Rosemary looked at her closely. ‘You aren’t going to be sick, are you?’

  She had hardly finished speaking before Sophie made a mad dash to the bathroom, the champagne and small amount of food she had attempted to force down her soon leaving her body with much more rapidity than she had eaten them. She emerged from the bathroom pale-faced and drawn, the sickness still with her.

  ‘So you’re pregnant after all,’ Rosemary said dryly.

  Sophie’s eyes widened with shock. ‘I am not,’ she protested. ‘It was just too much champagne on an empty stomach.’

  ‘No need to lie to me, Sophie. I know the truth, remember?’

  The truth as Luke had led them to believe! ’I am not pregnant!’

  ‘I’m not stupid.’ Rosemary hung the white wedding gown in the wardrobe. ‘I don’t suppose you should really have worn this colour—in the circumstances,’ she said thoughtfully.

  ‘There are no circumstances! And if all the girls who should wear white wore it the colour would go out of fashion tomorrow.’

  ‘Mm, that’s true. Still, I must say you fell pregnant pretty easily. Of course Luke’s a virile man, but even so…’

  ‘I am not pregnant!’ Sophie’s words were forced out between gritted teeth as she strove to hold on to her temper.