Betrayal (54 page)

'You should not have let her take the call!' shouted an enraged Renato when he returned to find Lisa crying in her room, and heard about Rebekah.

'We thought she'd like to know the little girl was all right,' explained Eleanor.

'Apparently she wasn't!' he shouted. Luciano's eyes were like saucers, he'd never heard his father so angry before.

'It was a mistake,' she admitted.

'What is worse, it is only the beginning,' muttered Renato, taking the stairs two at a time and knocking on Lisa's door.

'Go away!' she called irritably. 'Just leave me alone.' 'Let me in. We have to talk.'

'No we don't! I don't want to talk to anyone.'

He was tempted to kick the door open, and only the memory of the violence in Lisa's past prevented him. 'I know you are feeling bad. Please, let me in so that we can talk about it. I want to help you.'

In the distance she could hear Jessica screaming. Reluctantly she got up, unlocked her door and glanced at Renato. 'I suppose you'd better come in. I'm afraid I haven't got dressed today. Every day I tell myself that I must make the effort, but when I try to get up I'm so afraid of what the day might bring that I retreat under the duvet again. It's pathetic!'

'I'm sorry about Rebekah,' he said, gently taking her left hand in his. 'But you must realise that however upset she was, your husband was behind it. He knows that she matters to you and is willing to use her as a weapon now that he no longer has Jessica.'

'He thought I'd go back.'

'No, he isn't that stupid. He thought it would cause you great distress, and it did.'

'I wish I could pull myself together,' she said ruefully.

'You have been under a period of great strain. This depression is to be expected.'

'Is it? How's Jessica coping?' she added.

'She is over-active and vocal! This is a difficult time for her too. When I was with her yesterday a dog barked in the grounds and she hid beneath the table.'

Lisa looked down at her hands. The scars were livid red marks, darker in colour. where the incisors had sunk deep into the flesh, but the pain had eased. 'I'd probably have done the same thing!'

'Are you afraid that Neal will come here and take you back?' Renato asked, looking out into the grounds where blue-jacketed bodyguards patrolled the perimeter .

'Not really; it's as though I 'm so used to being afraid that I can't switch off. I know this house is well protected and he isn't going to come in with a load of gunmen shooting everyone in sight just to get me back , so logically, no, I don't fear him coming. I'm just perpetually afraid.'

'Would you come down to dinner tonight? It will be pleasant to see you again and Luciano is allowed to eat with us because today is his saint's day, a second birthday in our country. He wants to eat with us because he thinks you will be there.'

'Now you 're using a child to manipulate me.'

He shrugged his vast shoulders. 'Possibly, but for your own good!'

'I dislike being manipulated.' Her voice was tight.

'Would it help if I told you that I myself want to see you at dinner? That I take pleasure in your company, and miss you when you stay in your room?'

'If it's true then it's a better reason for coming down.' 'It is true. You must know that.'

She did, but she didn't want to think about it. Every time she saw Renato and felt herself drawn towards him she fought against her own emotions, knowing that if she allowed herself to become involved with him and then it went wrong she wouldn't be strong enough to survive her third mistake. 'All right,' she conceded. 'I'll come down to dinner.'

He smiled at her, his expression so open and warm that for an instant she responded and smiled back, but almost immediately turned away, reminding herself of how she'd trusted Neal and what a disaster that had been. There were similarities between the Italian and her husband which confused her.

During the afternoon she washed her hair and was disconcerted to discover it was in need of a cut. The heavy layers at the back took ages to dry by hand. Then, when she put on one of the fitted Italian dresses Renato had bought for her, it hung loosely round her hips and bust, and she realised that she'd lost far too much weight. At the sound of the dinner bell she smoothed her dress nervously with her hands and wished that she looked better. She certainly wouldn't have met with Neal's approval tonight she reflected, hoping Renato wouldn't be too disappointed.

She needn't have worried. His delight at having her downstairs with them all was touching and he constantly checked that she felt all right, or that the wine was dry enough, or that Luciano wasn't exhausting her with his chatter.

It was Luciano who got her through the meal. From time to time she suffered surges of panic that made her want to dash from the room and out into the fresh air where breathing might be easier. She would break into a fine sweat, her heart racing until she could feel it in her throat. Only by fixing her attention on the chattering child could she force herself through the attacks, then as they gradually ebbed away she picked at her food, although swallowing it was difficult.

When Luciano finally went to bed at ten, Lisa took the opportunity to escape. She reached her room just as Renato came out of his son's and he raised his eyebrows. 'Bed so soon?'

'I'm tired.'

'Of course. How did you feel downstairs?' 'Not too bad.'

'No?'

'Why can't people believe what I say!'

'I do believe you. I also think that you are being brave. You did well tonight but inside the fear has not gone and this makes it difficult for you, does it not?'

'Since when were you a psychiatrist?'

'When a man is in love he does not need to be a psychiatrist to know how his woman feels. It is instinctive.'

'If you're so damned clever perhaps you'd like to tell me when I'm going to feel better!' she shouted, her fingers tightening on the door handle.

He moved nearer to her. 'Tell me about it,' he suggested gently. 'Explain to me your fear.'

'I've already told you! It isn't a specific fear, it's just one huge general panic. Please tell your son I thoroughly enjoyed his saint's day feast. Now, goodnight.'

Renato put a foot in the door. He was beginning to realise that unless he forced the issue she was going to stay trapped with her terror until Neal finally made a move, by which time she would be unable to cope. He had to help her now so that they could carry out the final stage of his plan against the Gueras organisation.

'Get your foot away!' The panic was obvious.

He did as she asked but walked into her room behind her. 'I didn't mean that as an invitation. Please leave, Renato.'

Slowly he put his hands on her shoulders, his fingers moving gently over her collar bone, sharp beneath the silk dress. 'It is time for you to trust me,' he murmured , lowering his head and letting his mouth brush against the top of her hair. 'How can we ever learn to know one another while you shut me out all the time?'

'There's nothing for me to tell you. I'm sure you know everything that I do about my husband. Isn't that enough reason for me to be afraid?'

'Afraid of him? Yes! Of me also? I think not. I will never hurt you. What has happened to you in the past is over, and I will make up for it, but I need to know more about your fear. Is it that you no longer wish to be loved?'

'Loved? I've no idea what it's like to be loved. I'm an expert on being taken, with or without consent. I also know what men will do in the name of love, like raping you on the study floor with all the servants listening down the hall, or bringing in friends to liven you up, like Toby did. Then they lie, and cheat with other women, threaten small children and finally, when they've tried everything they can think of to ruin your life, they turn round and tell you you're frigid and that no other man would want you, implying you're lucky to have a husband of any sort. That's what happens in the name of love. And do you know what? In the end you believe it all.

'When I first met you I used to try and fantasise about what you'd be like as a lover. I thought you'd be different and tried to pretend my husband was you. Don't you think that's sick? And of course it didn't work, because I was so useless I ended up being grateful it wasn't you. Now, when you're really here, wanting me, I'm terrified that it's going to be like Neal said.'

'What did he say?'

'That you'd send me back to him when you found out what a fraud I was. He said you were used to real women and wouldn't have any time for someone like me. He's probably right. But if I fail with you there's nothing left, and so I'd rather not try.'

'It isn't a competition,
cara
! These other women your husband spoke of , they were all different and with them it was pleasant, but I do not compare. Besides, with you it is not the same because I love you, and one day I hope to make you my wife. We have all the time in the world to become used to one another. It is not an exam, there is no pass mark! All that I want for now is to hold you. Why should we rush through the enjoyable early stages of love?'

Lisa didn't answer. She turned away and half-stumbled so that he had to put out a hand to catch her. Immediately he drew her to him, holding her against his body, his hands gentle against her back.

She felt them moving rhythmically over her, one hand straying to the nape of her neck , lifting her hair and letting the fingers delicately roam over the sensitive skin. Gradually her breathing evened out and her body ceased to tremble. Even when he moved to the bed and they lay side by side on top of the duvet she didn't feel afraid because the only difference was that now he was able to kiss her forehead and eyelids; light, butterfly kisses that were tokens of love rather than forerunners of passion.

Eventually his mouth reached hers, but again the kisses were light, almost teasing as his lips brushed hers, lingering at the corner of her mouth and then moving away to the sensitive spots behind her ears as she felt the rough stubble of his chin grazing her lightly. She moved closer to him and he stopped, sitting up with his left hand resting beneath her body.

'Now you are tempting me!' he laughed.

'I didn't mean to,' she murmured contentedly.

'No? Just the same I should go. Remember, we have all the time in the world.'

'I've been stupid, haven't I?'

'You have been protecting yourself. Until now there has been no one else to do this. Now I will protect you against the world.'

'But not against you?'

'I think that I will be the one who needs protection!'

She laughed and he saw that the shadows had gone from her eyes. 'Sleep well,' he whispered as he left her, and for the first time since she'd left Neal, she did.

Next day she surprised her hosts by going down to breakfast, and surprised Janice even more by spending over two hours with Jessica. She'd intended to take her outside but realising the risk involved, took her to the indoor pool instead where they both splashed around happily.

After lunch she played with Alexi. He was now walking and although sturdily built like his father and with his colouring, he was a placid affectionate child who enjoyed company.

Renato returned from London silent and grim-faced. He'd finally learnt of Mike's death and, knowing the delicate state of Lisa's emotional balance, didn't want to tell her but felt uncertain of his ability to disguise his own distress. It wasn't unexpected but it still hurt. Without Mike's help, Lisa could not have come to him, and it seemed wrong that it was Mike—his unquestionable love for the same woman totally nonreciprocating—who should die.

The children were sent to bed early while the Mutis went to the opera, leaving Renato and Lisa alone downstairs. 'I too like the opera,' he announced as they waited for the coffee. 'One day we must go the open air performances at Verona and also to La Scala. Perhaps Carreras will sing in La Boheme. That is well worth waiting for.'

'Not Carreras,' she said quickly.

'No? Perhaps he is not to everyone's liking but for myself I find him exciting. There is such passion there!'

'I saw him at Covent Garden in Andrea Chenier. It made me cry.

He was too realistic and I felt unbearably sad.'

'You are afraid of your emotions. There is nothing wrong in being moved by a performer. It is part of the beauty of the arts.'

'I don't think… '

'Then we will not go. Perhaps we will… '

'What's wrong?' she asked abruptly. 'Why are you talking about opera when you're really upset about something? Is it because you don't want me to know? Have you heard from Neal?'

He reached out and touched her lightly on the face. 'No, I have not heard from your husband and I do not expect to. But, yes, there is something that has distressed me. You look so much better today that I don't want to destroy your mood.'

'I'd rather know than live in a fool's paradise.' 'Mike is dead.'

'How?' she whispered , her eyes filling with tears.

'It was quick , which surprises me. He would have known little about it.'

'What did they do to him?'

'He was shot. He'd been living rough, sleeping under newspapers until they slowed down their hunt for him. He was found and shot through the chest but no one realised for twenty-four hours since he was concealed beneath a pile of newspapers.'

'Why didn't they question him to find out where I was?'

'I understand that this was your husband's intention. However, someone got there first and silenced him.'

'Someone from your side?'

'No! That is not our way. He had helped us and would have been rewarded if he had managed to leave this country.'

'Then who was responsible?'

'Perhaps the man who had promoted him to a position of such importance that he was able to help us. The man who never suspected that his friend was a double agent.'

'Bishop?'

'I myself think it was Bishop. Your husband, like you, believes that I had him killed.'

'He was such a nice man,' said Lisa quietly. 'Always cheerful and helpful. It isn't fair.'

'He knew he would probably die. It was his choice. He had become disillusioned with his life. For him it was a way of making amends.'