Betrayal (19 page)

After a time he put an arm beneath her legs and swung them on to the sofa, releasing the pink sash at the same time and then pulling the dress down over her hips and easing it past her thighs until she moved her legs so that he could drop the dress to the floor, leaving Lisa in sheer silk stockings and skin coloured satin french knickers.

For several minutes he sat looking at her, only his hands moving reassuringly over her upper body as he took in the full beauty of her. The porcelain skin, unmarred by any stretch marks, and the long slender legs that he'd spent so many nights imagining wrapped round him in passion,

Even now he knew that she might start to panic and so he refused to hurry but instead murmured reassuringly as he took off his clothes and lay next to her, feeling the slight tremor that was running through her whole body.

His hands wandered a little lower and when he touched her stomach she caught her breath as her flesh jumped in anticipation. Moving so that he was lying half on her and half on the settee, he put his mouth against the hollow of her neck, kissing the small pulse that was beating rapidly there. His right hand continued down, slipping beneath the waistband of her satin underwear until at last he found the soft, warm centre of her being that he'd dreamt of for so long.

Lisa gave a moan and arched slightly against the pressure of his hand. Pleased, he swiftly removed the delicate satin garment, leaving her naked except for the suspender belt and silk stockings, an erotic touch that he found highly stimulating at a time when he didn't need any further stimulus.

His searching fingers told him that she was partly ready and all at once he couldn't wait any longer but moved on top of her, gripping her tightly by the shoulders as he parted her legs with his thigh before entering with a thrust as controlled as he could manage under the circumstances.

It was only then that Lisa felt a moment of terror. The weight of his body reminded her of Toby, and she tried to move back up the sofa, away from his suddenly urgent body. He wouldn't let her. His hands tightened, but he lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered his love for her, trying to calm her and take her with him as his passion mounted and he knew that he wouldn't be able to last as long as he'd hoped.

His voice soothed her. She relaxed beneath him, taking pleasure in his pleasure, enjoying the feel of a man inside her moving so urgently. Her affection for him had never been so great as at the moment he climaxed and shouted aloud before his body shuddered and trembled and he almost fell against her, murmuring her name again and again. After a few seconds he put his arms round her, enclosing her in a safe circle while he poured out words of love that astonished her even as they made her feel cherished for the first time in her life. She herself said nothing, but felt immense gratitude for the way in which he'd helped her to make love again. She never considered her own lack of fulfillment, being thankful simply to have enjoyed his lovemaking. Far more ominous was the fact that Neal didn't consider it either.

Chapter Fourteen

Exactly a month after becoming Neal Gueras's mistress, Lisa met Renato Bellini for the first time. Far from losing interest once he'd possessed her, Neal—much to Bishop's annoyance—was more obsessed than ever. He showered her with jewellery and clothes, but never perfume. Not after his one mistake. He was a man who'd survived because he never made the same mistake twice. He also wanted her with him whenever possible. If it hadn't been for Jessica, he'd have spent more time in the week at the small mews cottage, but Jessica was too much for him and so weekdays were Lisa's alone.

She was grateful because it gave her the time she needed to devote to her daughter. The older Jessica grew, the more obvious her handicap became and the greater the strain on Lisa. From being a withdrawn, anti-social child who threw the occasional tantrum, Jessica had become a child who was permanently angry. She was either busy demolishing items in the home or inflicting physical damage on herself. Oblivious to pain, she would bang her head against walls, tear out sections of her hair until the scalp bled, jump all the way down the stairs, run full tilt into doors, or sometimes sit silently scratching at her skin until it was red raw.

Lisa was at her wit's end. Only the knowledge that the following month she had an appointment with a top expert on autism kept her going. She followed Jessica everywhere, forever catching her when she jumped, restraining her when she tried to hit her head and trying to divert her attention, channel the ceaseless energy into more useful outlets. This was impossible. Jessica seemed determined to maim herself, regarding all Lisa's attempts to save her as infuriating interference.

Music still pleased her but no longer had the ability to keep her silent. Instead she would hum or sing along with the sounds even as she tugged at her hair. One afternoon when it was raining, Lisa took Jessica on her lap and tried to read to her. Her daughter's terror at being held was pitiful. She screamed and kicked, all her joints locked with fear or hatred. She didn't seem to mind being read to, but only once she was safely off Lisa's lap and sitting in a corner facing the wall, secure in her self-inflicted isolation.

She also became difficult over food, refusing to eat anything solid. All her food had to be put through the blender unless it was Farex. Because of this, Lisa took to giving her bottles again. At least that way she knew exactly how much milk Jessica had taken, and could be certain that she'd had the vitamin drops her strange diet made necessary.

On the rare occasions when Jessica became absorbed in dismantling a toy or watching her hands move in front of her face, her outstanding good looks made the situation seem even more tragic. She had the face of a serene beauty and yet lived out her days in frantic terror and torment.

On the Saturday that she was to meet Bellini, Lisa endured a particularly difficult day, made worse both by Janice Anthony having the day off and a terrible feeling of lethargy that left her utterly drained. From five in the morning until seven at night she'd coped with everything Jessica quite literally threw at her, and when Janice arrived back she found her employer almost on her knees with exhaustion.

'Why not go to bed,' she said sympathetically. 'I'll bring you up a light supper after Jessica's asleep. You look all in.'

'I can't,' said Lisa regretfully. 'I've got to go out tonight. It's a business dinner and Neal particularly wants me there. Apparently someone important's come to live in London and I'm to be introduced!'

'Then you'd better rest for half an hour. He won't want you looking like a washed out rag.'

'I'll put on some eye gel while I rest, that might improve me a bit! At least I've got all Barbara Daly's beauty tips. According to her, make-up can conceal anything you want. In this case, the whole face!' Janice shook her head. She worried about Lisa. She was more wrapped up in her child than any mother Janice had met and was also trying to be the perfect partner to an important man with no time for Jessica. As a result she couldn't ever complain about how she felt. 'One of them will have to go,' she muttered, opening a jar of baby food meant for a child half Jessica's age. 'She can't go on like this.' She was amazed by isa's appearance when she finally came downstairs an hour later. All signs of strain were gone. Her hair had been set on heated rollers and framed her face in soft curls. She wore a long, figure-hugging dress in dark grey silk with vivid slashes of turquoise and black cutting diagonally across the bodice and skirt.

'I don't know how you do it!' she exclaimed admiringly.

'Nor do I! What's more, I don't think I can for much longer.' 'Something will crack,' Janice agreed.

'Undoubtedly me! Listen, there's the car. See you in the morning.' 'Will you be back tonight?'

Lisa hesitated. 'I hope so but I'm not sure.' 'As long as you enjoy yourself.'

'Let's hope I do.'

She opened the door before Neal had time to ring the bell, walking quickly to the car. She didn't want him to see the chaos in the downstairs room, or the mark on the kitchen door where Jessica had hurled a bottle of blackcurrant juice. By tomorrow Janice would have it all cleared up and he need never know.

'You look wonderful!' he greeted her. 'I'm sure you get more beautiful every day.'

'You say that to all the ladies! Now, what do I need to know about tonight's guests?'

As the car rolled smoothly away from the kerb, Neal closed the partition between them and the driver. 'There's only one person who matters tonight, and that's the Italian, Renato Bellini. I'm very anxious that he should feel welcome, and it's important to my business that nothing spoils his visit. We'll be seeing him again, of course, but first impressions are very important.'

'What's his wife like?'

'I don't think there is one. She died or he divorced her, I'm not sure which.'

'There's quite a difference!'

'It isn't important,' he said irritably, and Lisa quickly suppressed her smile.

'How nice should I be to him?' she enquired with mock innocence. 'As nice as possible, of course.' He glanced at her questioning expression. 'Not that nice, but… '

'It's all right, I know what you mean! Is he easy to get on with or am I going to find the evening a bit difficult?' She hoped not; the day had been bad enough. She didn't fancy spending the evening pandering to a difficult adult.

'He likes women, you'll be fine.'

'If he liked men we were both in trouble! All right,' she added quickly, 'no more jokes, I promise!'

When Renato Bellini's red Ferrari drew up outside the Chelsea flat he felt curiously excited. He'd heard so much about this new woman of Neal's that he was eager to see her for himself. He was the last of the six guests to arrive but when he walked into the room all conversation stopped.

His eyes swept the room until they came to rest on the woman he'd been waiting to see. The woman who, according to all reports, had caused Neal Gueras to lose his business grip. His first thought was that she was as far removed from his vision of a femme-fatale as it was possible to be. Tall, slim and fragile-looking, he received no immediate message of sexuality from her. Instead he experienced an overwhelming desire to protect her from the complicated web of intrigue and deceit in which she was now involved. A desire as futile as it was alien to his nature. He knew he was already too late.

Only when the other guests began to murmur among themselves did he realise he'd been staring at her for too long. Immediately he walked with long, smooth strides across the room and shook hands with Neal, giving him the briefest smile possible. 'I am late it appears. My apologies,' he said politely.

'Not at all,' responded Neal, who'd noticed the attention given to Lisa and felt flattered that his choice of woman was so appreciated. 'I don't believe you've met Lisa. Lisa, my dear, this is Renato Bellini, one of the Italian banking family.'

Lisa held out her hand, faintly overwhelmed by the size of the man . He was considerably taller than anyone else in the room, and with his large shoulders and leonine head, topped by a mass of wavy, unruly hair, was the most unlikely Italian imaginable.

Bending over her hand he lifted it to his mouth, allowing his lips to brush lightly against her skin. A shiver ran up her arm and she found her eyes caught by his. For a brief moment they might have been the only two people in the room. 'I've heard a lot about you,' she said quietly.

'And I you. You are not at all what I expected.' 'In what way?'

He smiled with all of his charm but his eyes were solemn. 'You are far more beautiful, and far too young for my friend, Neal!'

Lisa laughed lightly, well aware that Neal wasn't in the least amused. 'How kind of you. I must admit that you're not at all what I expected either.'

'In what way is that?'

'I thought all Italians were small and dark.'

'It appears we are both a grave disappointment to each other!' he retorted, but his eyes said otherwise, and Lisa was astonished by the thrill of pleasure simply talking to him was giving her. She felt like a twelve-year-old girl in the presence of her favourite pop star. It was both ridiculous and yet in a strange way a relief because now she knew for certain that Toby hadn't made it impossible for her to react strongly to a man. Immediately she realised how disloyal to Neal her behaviour was and her reply to Bellini was more a rebuke to herself than to him.

'Not at all. I've learnt never to expect too much and so I usually manage to avoid disappointment.'

'I am put firmly in my place,' he said quietly, but he never took his amazing copper-coloured eyes from hers.

Neal drew in his breath sharply. 'That sounded rather impolite, Lisa.'

'I'm sorry, it wasn't meant to. Well, since Mr Bellini has finally arrived , may I suggest we all go in to dinner?'

As he'd hoped, Renato found himself seated next to his hostess but was sorry to find that she seemed uneasy in his presence. He resolved to set about putting matters right between them. He wanted her to like him. One day she might need a powerful friend.

'How old is your daughter?' he asked, aware that the quickest way to many women's hearts was through their children. He was surprised to see Lisa flush slightly and when she picked up her wine glass her hand was trembling.

'Nearly two.'

'A very demanding age. What's her name?'

'Jessica.' Her voice was so low he couldn't catch what she'd said. 'Phillipa?'

'No, Jessica.' This time she spoke more loudly. By chance it was during a brief lull in general conversation and Neal heard. He looked down the table and frowned at her. Renato, apparently busy with his pate, caught the look and wondered at its cause.

'I too have a child,' he said quickly. 'A little boy of four, Luciano. I have a picture somewhere if you'd like to see it?' 'Yes please.'

Taking his wallet from his inside pocket he handed her a colour snap taken at Christmas when his son had been given his first pony. He was standing by it, grinning broadly, and Lisa instinctively smiled in response. 'He's very handsome, and happy too by the look of it.' 'He can be shy but generally he's happy, yes. Do you have a photo of your little girl? She is undoubtedly beautiful if her mother is anything to go by.'

'Don't bother trying to charm me, Mr Bellini. I'm distrustful of too much charm. Experience has taught me it can't be relied upon.'

He raised his eyebrows. 'How sad. A little flirtation is fun for everyone. Perhaps you take things too seriously?'

'Perhaps.'

'And you have no photo?'

She sighed. Was the wretched man never going to give up talking about children? she wondered. 'No, no photographs. My daughter's handicapped.'

'In what way?'

If he hadn't been important to Neal she would have told him to mind his own business. It was soul destroying when people looked blank every time she explained about Jessica, but she realised that it was the only way to stop Bellini. 'She's autistic,' she murmured, hoping Neal couldn't hear her.

'An interesting condition but tragic for the people concerned. You have my sympathy. I take it that Neal doesn't like you talking about her?'

She hesitated, torn between loyalty to Neal and a desire to explain to the first person ever to show genuine understanding, exactly what it was like for her these days. Bellini kept his eyes fixed on her in a steady appraisal that she found unnerving.

'No,' she admitted. 'He finds Jessica's condition rather distasteful I think, and he certainly wouldn't want me telling you about her. I try not to burden him with details because I know how angry it makes him.'

'Angry?' His raised one eyebrow. 'Angry with you?' 'Yes, he thinks she should go into a home.'

'And you don't?'

'No, I… ' She glanced round the table and realised that people were looking at them. 'You can't be interested,' she said quickly. 'Did I introduce you to Felicity Whitehead? She spent a year in Italy doing art. You should have a lot to talk about.'

Renato glanced briefly at the woman on his right then back to Lisa. 'I'd rather continue talking to you.'

'Well, you can't.' She wished her heart would stop pounding so hard. 'It's impolite.'

'Then I will try and talk about art, but we will continue our discussion some other time, yes?'

She gave him the briefest of smiles, her eyes straying nervously back to Neal. 'Perhaps.'

When dinner finally ended and the men were alone with the port, Neal and Renato stood together in a corner of the room. For the first time there was a distinct hint of antagonism between them, although only Neal's face revealed this. Renato's expression was agreeable; he was apparently oblivious of any undertones in the conversation.

'You seemed to enjoy the dinner,' said Neal tightly.

'You have a good chef. I rarely manage to eat well in England. Everything is over-cooked and lacking in taste.' 'Perhaps the conversation helped.'

'You are certainly a fortunate man. My hostess is an exceptionally lovely young woman.'

'I thought all Italian men liked voluptuous women!' Neal's smile was strained.