‘Are you so sure it wasn’t?’
Her words brought them to the edge of the precipice, showing him the disaster waiting below.
‘Olympia, don’t,’ he said urgently. ‘Don’t do this, please don’t, for both our sakes.’
‘But what do you think I’m doing? Just being honest, that’s all.’
‘This isn’t honesty. It’s pride and revenge, and maybe you have the right, but don’t do it. Don’t ruin what we still might have.’
She gave a cruel laugh. ‘You actually imagine that there might be something between us, after this?’
‘I know it sounds crazy, but that’s because we’ve been performing in masks, inventing other selves and thinking that’s who we were. But if we could get clear of that and be ourselves-’
He left the implication hanging in the air and for a moment he thought he’d won. Her face softened and a weary look passed across it. But then she said, ‘If we could do that we’d probably find we liked each other-and ourselves-even less. It’s too late, Ja-’ She broke off and a spasm of pain went over her face. ‘Signor Rinucci.’
‘Don’t call me that,’ he shouted.
‘It’s a useful reminder, in case I forget,’ she cried back at him. ‘Or in case you do.’
He closed his eyes. His world was disintegrating about him and whatever he did made it worse. He could only say her name in anguish.
‘Olympia-Olympia-’
‘Don’t.’
They stood in silence, neither knowing what to say.
He looked around him and suddenly noticed things that he’d failed to notice before, and which now seemed ominous.
A half-packed suitcase stood open on the sofa and several clothes were draped over the back.
‘Packing?’ he breathed. ‘Now?’
‘Yes, now. I’m moving out of here tonight.’
‘I told you, you can’t go back to England.’
‘I’m not. I’ve decided to stay and take up the job with Leonate. But I’m moving out of here tonight and going where you can’t follow me.’
‘There’s nowhere I can’t follow you, and I will.’
‘You don’t need to. I’m coming to work tomorrow. Or is that another of your fictions?’
‘No, the job is there.’
‘Then it’s about time I met my colleagues, Signore Leonate and Signor Rinucci who, I understand, is the real power behind the throne. I’m longing to meet him-that is, if you can sort out which one he is.’
‘Stop it,’ he said violently. ‘Are you going to beat me over the head with that for ever?’
‘I can try.’
‘So you reckon you’re the injured innocent? I don’t think so. I may have laid a small trap, but you made it bigger and jumped in with both feet. I’m sorry you feel foolish, but it’s nothing to the kind of foolish that I’d have felt if things had worked out the way you meant.’
He came closer to her, seizing her arm so that she couldn’t turn away from him.
‘That was quite a plan you had, Olympia. Rinucci was going to turn up and you were going to use your wiles on him, and I was going to do what, exactly? Cheer you on from the sidelines? Suppose I’d warned him and brought your house of cards tumbling down? Did you think of that? Of course you didn’t, because you never thought that far ahead.’
‘How far ahead did you think?’ she flung at him.
‘Not far enough, which is why I don’t blame you too much-’
‘Big of you, considering that you started it.’
‘That’s arguable. You said a lot of things before you made the most cursory check who I was. The astute operator you want me to believe in wouldn’t have done that. Perhaps I should question your skills a little more. Not your seductive skills, because we know about those-’
There was a crack as her hand connected with his face. Then something seemed to hold them both petrified. Her eyes were filled with anger, bitterness and insult. But there was also anguish and a kind of fear.
He saw it and his own anger died. Even at this moment he discovered that he couldn’t bear to see her hurt. It made quarrelling very difficult.
‘Let’s say that makes us even,’ he told her quietly. ‘Now can we draw a line under it?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said in a choking voice.
‘But I do.’ He turned her towards him and gently drew her close. ‘That’s it,’ he said as he lowered his mouth to hers. ‘No more fighting. It’s finished.’
‘You can’t just-’
‘Yes, I can,’ he said, silencing her.
The last thought of which she was capable was, How dare he?
How dared he think that one kiss could make up for everything, and that she would simply do as he asked because his lips thrilled her? She would show him that he was wrong-she must show him that-just as soon as her strength came back.
But instead of returning it was draining away with every movement of his mouth against hers, as her body grew warmer, more eager to be his, and with less will of its own.
‘The past is over,’ he murmured against her mouth. ‘It’s the future that matters.’
‘But how can we-?’ she whispered back.
‘I don’t know. Who knows the future? We make it ourselves. Hold me.’
She did so, sliding her arms about his neck, part embracing him, part clinging to him for safety. There were no thoughts now, only the blind instinct to seek him, join with him, belong to him.
The past no longer mattered. She’d known she was falling in love with him. She’d faced it, accepted it, even welcomed it. Now she felt the warmth of his body communicating itself to hers and she knew that she needed that warmth, not only in her flesh but in her heart.
For too many years she’d been cold, hiding from love in her bleak cave. She knew now that only he could tempt her out. It was a risk, but every skilled movement of his mouth, his hands, urged her to take that risk and say, with him, that the past was over and they would make the future together.
In a haze of delight she was barely aware of him moving, drawing her after him in the direction of her bedroom. Not until she heard the door click did she get a sense of danger.
‘Wait-’ she said urgently.
He picked her up in his arms. ‘Haven’t we waited long enough?’
‘But there’s something I must-you don’t understand-’
‘I understand this,’ he said, kissing her again. ‘What else is there to understand?’
As he spoke he kicked the door open and walked into the grandiose bedroom, heading for the huge luxurious bed, so absorbed in his passion that he was close up to it before he realised that something was there that shouldn’t have been.
A man was stretched out on the coverlet, his hands behind his head, grinning derisively.
‘Hallo,’ said Luke.
For a moment Primo could do no more than stare at his brother. Just as Olympia, earlier that evening, had told herself that what she saw was impossible, so now Primo closed, opened and closed his eyes, certain that the next time Luke would have disappeared.
But he stayed there, solid and, to his brother, thoroughly objectionable.
‘You really should have warned me,’ Primo said, speaking to Olympia but not looking at her. ‘But if I’d been sharper I’d have expected it.’
‘Will you please put me down?’ she said edgily.
He meant to lower her with dignity but shock was causing the strength to drain away from his arms. They gave way abruptly and she ended up sprawling on the bed where Luke quickly took hold of her to stop her sliding off.
‘No need to throw the lady about,’ Luke observed. ‘Not that I mind, you understand.’
Primo treated this remark with disdain. It was that or murder.
‘What a picture!’ he said softly. ‘I should have known, shouldn’t I?’
‘How dare you?’ Olympia flashed. ‘Luke came here to help me to get out of this place.’
She scrambled to the floor, flushed and panting. Torn by conflicting feelings, bitterness and passion, she felt she would explode any minute. For a blinding moment she hated both of them.