Lessons and Lovers (18 page)

“Are you all right, Ma’am? Is there anything I can get you?” he asked quietly, “I saw the doctor downstairs and she said you’d returned to your room. I felt concerned in case… In case…”

Amazingly the calm, collected Starr was faltering. Hettie could barely believe it, but somehow his vulnerability made her heart thunder like a cannonade. He
was
letting down his guard! At last! She’d always trusted him, but maybe now he was finally going to trust her.

“I’m fine, Starr. Thank you. I think it’s just that all the good air and sunshine tends to make me sleepy.”

It was white lie. If anything was making her tired, it was the emotional tension that had been building between them. The constantly longing to know, to understand… But she sensed that the moment at hand was too delicate for so explicit an explanation. “Please, why don’t you sit down a moment?” She patted the white counterpane at her side, almost holding her breath for fear he’d refuse her.

With pure male grace, he complied, sitting down with his lithe body twisted slightly to face her.

Her heart still thudding so hard she could almost imagine he could see it, Hettie met his cool blue eyes and tried to fathom the mystery in their depths. He looked away then—so unlike him—and smoothed a long golden finger along the seam of his jeans. She could sense that he was right on the point of speaking.

“What is it, Starr?” prompted Hettie softly.

He looked up again. Right into her eyes. “About last night, Ma’am. I hope I didn’t hurt you. I wanted to be gentle… But I couldn’t. I wanted you too much.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” she lied quickly, moved by his unflinching honesty, “It was what I wanted. It was marvelous.” Without stopping to think or consider, she edged forward and reached up to touch his strong, smooth jawline. Beneath her fingers she felt the faintest hint of stubble and his blue eyes went dark as night as she began to caress him tentatively.

“My lady… My lady…” he muttered, his voice breaking as he surged forward like a panther and in one subtle move, had his arms around her body and his mouth hungrily on hers.

For a split second Hettie was too stunned to respond, but as she felt him trying to pull back, her body was galvanized into action.

No, you weren’t wrong, Hettie. He loves you as much as you love him!

She willed the thought from her mind into his, backing it up with the force of her mouth as she pushed her tongue hungrily between his lips and kissed him with all the power he’d ever used on her. She felt the vibration of a purr of pleasure in his throat and scrabbled quickly between their bodies to undo her robe and present her naked breasts to his hands.

As he rolled over her, the balance of the kiss tipped again and his tongue fought hers back into her mouth as his fingers formed two natural, cradling curves around her breasts. Lips and tongues dueled moistly as he fondled and kneaded her and Hettie whimpered faintly at the sudden almost grinding heaviness that massed in her loins.

Wriggling furiously, she managed to work the lower half of her robe open and then rocked her pussy against the rigid column of his penis where it pressed through the black denim of his jeans. His thumbs rotated wickedly on her nipples and Hettie surged up against him, her sex fluttering wildly as the simple caress set a spark to her unbearable need and she climaxed involuntarily against his still-clothed crotch.

“Starr! Oh, Starr!” she sobbed, her body still throbbing as he lifted away from her slightly and she felt him working on his belt and his jeans button.

He was fumbling, tugging with a strange, endearing clumsiness at his clothes. “My lady,” he gasped, “Oh my lady, I—”

Suddenly there was a heavy pummeling at the door and they both froze in shock. Starr rolled off her instantly, refastening his belt in sharp jerky moves as his blue eyes blazed with what could only be furious anger.

As she righted her robe and tied its sash tightly, Hettie felt both frustrated at the interruption and at the same time strangely thrilled by the fury in Starr’s flashing eyes. For a man so controlled and so self-contained, his anger was as revealing to her as his lovemaking would’ve been.

“Come in!” she called out to whoever it was who was still thumping vigorously on the door.

Darryl almost fell into the room, looking rather worried. “I’m really sorry to disturb you, Hettie, but Cousin Renata’s here, and I thought you’d want to see her straightaway. She’s very upset and she’s not making a lot of sense. “

Well, that makes a change, Ren!
Hettie instantly chastised herself for the unkind thought and hurried down the stairs, with both the anxiously chattering Darryl and the now silent Starr in her wake.

Darryl was right, but it was the whole situation that didn’t make sense. Renata was supposed to be in Milan, besotted and embroiled idyllically with Fausto.
Wasn’t that was the very reason you sent Darryl to me in the first place? So you could have time alone with your hot new lover?

So what the hell was Renata doing here now, hard on the heels of the adoptive cousin she’d just gone to so much trouble to get rid of?

Hettie had tried to phone her friend just before leaving London, hoping to update her on Darryl’s progress and check that Ren was still getting on okay with Fausto. But even after several attempts, all Hettie had been able to get was the answering machine. So she’d left a brief message telling Ren that Darryl was fine and that they were all going down to Dragonwood for a country break.

It was obvious now though that something drastic had happened at Palazzo Di Angeli. Something so traumatic that it had caused Renata to flee Italy and come racing straight here to Dragonwood without ever pausing to let anybody know she was even on her way!

The commotion—and the sight of a huge pile of baggage—met them at the foot of the stairs. The sound of loud hysterical weeping, underpinned by a soft soothing murmuring, was emanating from the open doors of the library and a rather bemused-looking taxi driver stood in the middle of the hall. Hettie flashed him a brief smile, and then flung a look of gratitude towards Starr when the tall blond nodded to indicate that she should tend to her friend while he dealt with the cab fare.

“Ren, what on earth’s the matter?” Hettie said as she sprinted across the library towards the wailing and blubbering young woman who was sitting on one of the leather-covered sofas.

Renata di Angeli was hunched and miserable, her pretty face streaked with mascara and her eyes red and puffy. Stevie was beside her, talking calmly and offering tissues and a glass of brandy. She didn’t seem to be making much headway though, because the Italian girl was quite beside herself.

Hettie knelt on the carpet in front of her friend and took hold of her shaking hands. “Calm down, love, please! Take it easy. Drink a sip of brandy.” Stevie held out the glass, “Tell us what’s the matter.”

The presence of more people in the room would have fazed Hettie even more, but strangely it seemed to have a calming effect on Renata. Still sniffing and hiccupping, she finally took the proffered brandy glass and swallowed a small mouthful. Then after another spate of coughing and spluttering and a well-placed slap on the back from Stevie, she finally managed to get a hold of herself. As Darryl slid onto the seat beside her and tenderly took hold of her hand, she even managed a wan smile.

“It’s Fausto. He’s left me. He was furious…” She turned suddenly towards Darryl and Hettie was astounded by the way his gentle smile seemed to soothe the distraught woman.

“He was so angry,
caro
,” she said to him softly, “The same day you left, some lawyers came. They told us about all the money that Uncle left you. Then Fausto went crazy because I’d found somewhere else for you to live.” She bit her lip, her face a picture of guilt.

“He said I was a stupid bitch and that if you’d stayed, he could’ve persuaded you to invest in his business.” She turned miserably towards Hettie. “He was only after money. He was furious because mine’s all tied up in trusts. When he found out he couldn’t get it, he said I was useless. Boring…” Her lip started quivering again and suddenly she was crying as hard as before. “He said I was frigid. Like a log of wood. The worst lay he’d ever had!”

Hettie’s heart ached for her friend, but just as she was reaching up to comfort her, Darryl swept the weeping woman into his arms and began to stroke and cuddle and soothe her. He held her with all the tender, kindly assurance of someone who had a lifetime’s knowledge of counseling and comforting unhappy women.

Hettie looked up, not quite sure what to do, her own eyes panning from Stevie to the newly arrived Starr in search of a course of action.

The doctor nodded sagely in the direction of the entwined di Angelis, confirming Hettie’s suspicion that Darryl was probably the best man for the job at the moment. Starr looked on calmly, his own inner turmoil apparently forgotten, then shrugged a tacit agreement with Stevie’s split second analysis.

Hettie rose quietly to her feet and gestured in his direction. “Come on, Starr. Let’s sort out a room for Ren. I assume all those bags in the hall are hers. God knows how she got all that into a taxi!”

As she and Starr moved soft-footedly from the room, Stevie got up and followed them. “If you two are getting a room ready, the least I can do is prepare some food,” she said, turning in the direction of the kitchen.

Starr frowned slightly, and Hettie felt momentary amusement—despite the crisis—when Stevie tossed him a defiant look in response.

“Okay, so I’m not the world’s greatest cook, but if there’s a chainsaw handy, I can probably manage some sandwiches!” She didn’t actually thumb her nose as she strode off across the hall, but the implication was certainly there.

Hettie smiled as she made her way back up the stairs with Starr once more at her heels.

She chose a small but prettily decorated room for Renata, and it wasn’t long before they were engaged in the strangely silent task of making the bed together. A hundred questions rose to Hettie’s lips but each time, she held her tongue and got on with the job in hand because Starr seemed as remote and masked as he’d ever been. It was as if the revealing moments of earlier had never taken place, although inside her own heart, Hettie couldn’t erase them.

As Starr worked deftly beside her she could do nothing but wish he would grab hold of her and lay her down on the bed, crushing the sheets they’d just smoothed as he made sudden, urgent love to her. The robe she wore seemed so insubstantial, so precarious. It would be the simplest thing in the world to shrug it off and offer her naked body to him, here on this bed. To open her legs and guide him inside her so his cock could assuage the hunger that grew and grew in her flesh with every second that passed.

But it wasn’t to be. The room prepared, Starr silently led the way out onto the landing, his strong face as shuttered and expressionless as ever.

Hettie felt an inner chaos of conflicting emotions. If Renata hadn’t arrived, there was no knowing what would’ve happened. Starr had been just on the point of possessing her, but Hettie’s every feminine instinct told her that the moment of greatest revelation had been imminent too. The word that had stilled on his lips had been unmistakable.

And now Ren was here and the atmosphere was shattered, the momentous turning point temporarily lost. The selfish part of Hettie felt furious, while the soft, tenderhearted side of her was desperately sorry for the Italian girl. Another sexual disaster! Poor Ren’s confidence must be at rock bottom.

And yet there was still a green shoot of hope. It was obvious that Renata had responded to Darryl’s gentleness. Which was ironic when Ren had recently been so anxious to get rid of him. But it did look amazingly as if the two di Angelis had a genuine bond and might be meant to look after each other after all.

And you, Mister, are supposed to look after me!

She hurled the words silently at the fast-retreating Starr as he made his way down the stairs and she returned to her own room to put on something less revealing and far less evocative than the short robe that she’d so recently opened for his pleasure.

“And love me,” she added softly, clinging to hope…

It was another golden morning at Dragonwood.

Hettie woke early, but realized that she obviously wasn’t the first to think about rising. Even as she rubbed her eyes, someone was tapping on the door.

Last night had been subdued for one and all. No sensual encounters, no sneaking into rooms, no passion on the parapet. No sex of any kind, it seemed.

Exhausted by her journey, Renata had retired early, and to Hettie’s acute disappointment Starr had kept himself to himself too, reassuming his role as the discreet, invisible servant.

She and Stevie and Darryl had watched television, although none of them had really seemed to pay a lot of attention to what should have been a side-splittingly funny film. Finally they’d all gone to bed early—and by unspoken agreement—alone. As she sat up and reached for a robe to cover her thin slip of a nightdress, Hettie wondered if the others had experienced dreams as troubled as she had.

“Come in!” she called out when the visitor rapped again, her heart skittering wildly even though it didn’t sound like Starr’s firm assured knock.

Stevie entered, bearing a cup of tea. To Hettie’s surprise, her friend was fully clothed and immaculate in a smart pinstripe suit. The doctor was dressed for travel, that much was obvious.

“Yes, love, I’m on my way,” she said in answer to Hettie’s unspoken question. “My work here is done now, Hettie. I’m surplus to requirements, so I’m driving back to London and my patients.”

Agitated, Hettie took a sip of tea, then put down the cup as she tried to frame something adequate to say. To find a voice for the tangle of thoughts, and the compelling feeling that somehow Stevie was right.

“But we need you more than ever, Stevie. You’re a psychologist and a trained counselor, after all, and Ren’s in such a state. You’re exactly the person we
do
need!”

Stevie shook her head and sat down on the bed. In spite of everything, Hettie felt the same old familiar
frisson
at the other woman’s nearness, the same surge of excitement that someone could be so different, so female and yet so strangely desirable. When Stevie reached for her hand, she gave it gladly.