with them... after all, I was the daughter of a gifted
amateur. Have you got a tape recorder running, Carlo?
I would hate you to miss any of this '
'Stop it,' he grated roughly, his arms tightening round her even though she was fiercely resisting his embrace.
'I never went out on a single date because I knew what would be expected of me. And I never had a female best friend. My mother was so notorious, nobody wanted their daughter to risk coming to my house, and how could I possibly be a nice, decent girl with a family background like that? Dad adored her...can you believe that?' Jessica muttered sickly. 'He pretended it wasn't happening and that meant that I had to pretend
too...except with Simon. Am I mentioning his name enough for you, Carlo?'
‘I don't want to hear it again,' he gritted out tautly, running a hand down her rigid back. 'Stop treating me like a leper! Why didn't your father divorce her?'
'He loved her.'
'That isn't love, it's masochism '
'She didn't want a divorce until you bought the firm,’
Jessica whispered grimly. 'There was finally enough cash
to finance her escape in style. She walked out a week
later and took Dad for just about all of it. I think he
thought she'd go off on a spree and then come back.. .but
she never came back...never so much as looked
back '
'And that hurt?'
'Yes.' For the very first time, she admitted to herself that it had. Even though her mother had never shown her affection, Carole's departure and years of silence had rammed the message of her disinterest home harder than anything else had. And it had hurt, but Jessica had buried that hurt.
'Go to sleep,' Carlo urged huskily.
Utterly drained, her mind floating free behind her heavy eyelids, she let her body relax into the sheltering heat of him and she slept.
CHAPTER SIX
JESSICA woke up with a start, a groan of remembered embarrassment escaping her as she sat up. She had felt half-dead when Carlo had all but carried her on to the helicopter. She had been wishing she were dead by the time she was hauled off it again, sick and in a state of collapse. Her impressions had been fleeting.
She recalled the cluster of security men converging on the helipad, blurred glimpses of an incredibly large white villa and heat that only increased the non-stop pounding behind her temples. Jet lag had finally caught up with her. A rueful grimace slanted her face as she gingerly slid out of bed to gratefully appreciate that the ground beneath her feet was no longer rocking. It was dark outside. Locating the bedside light, she glanced at her watch. Eight in the evening.
The housekeeper—at least she assumed the warm, matronly woman who had come to her assistance was the housekeeper—had been a merciful saviour. She had taken charge, banishing Carlo and helping Jessica into bed. Nor had her care ended there. Oblivious to Jessica's mortified assurances that she would be all right, the older woman had still been sitting by the bed when she finally fell asleep.
But what had possessed her yesterday? Why had she told Carlo about the misery of her adolescent years? She had told Carlo things that she had not even told Simon, things that she had never shared with anyone. And at the time she had felt curiously lightened of the burden of those unpleasant recollections, almost as though she was exorcising them and finally putting them into the
past where they belonged. In a weak moment she had surrendered her most private memories... so why didn't she feel bad about that?
She explored the huge, opulently furnished room, complete with brocaded
sofas, magnificent flower arrangements and an exquisite antique escritoire with tiny drawers rilled with luxury notepaper. The adjoining bathroom and dressing-room were equally impressive. Her very cases had been unpacked and her clothing hung.
Some of her tension evaporated. There were no male accoutrements anywhere to be seen. The decor was defiantly feminine. Contrary to her expectations, she was clearly not sharing a room with Carlo. That made her breathe a little easier.
She was emerging from the shower, towelling her hair, when she thought she heard someone in the bedroom. Employing the fleecy robe supplied for her use, she hurriedly donned it.