Wounds of Passion, Charlotte Lamb [english novels to improve english .TXT] 📗

pulling her so close that their bodies almost merged. ‘You can’t marry Cy Devvon,’ he muttered. ‘I couldn’t bear it if you did, Antonia. You’ve got to marry me, not him. Don’t you know I’m desperately in love with you?’

Her heart turned over and over like a bird in ecstatic flight, skimming and soaring on spiral winds.

She gazed up at him through the eye-holes of her mask, trembling convulsively as what he had said sank in... He loved her; he wanted to marry her. She had known he wanted her, desired her; but until now she had been afraid to hope that he actually loved her.

He watched her face as if waiting for some answer, groaned impatiently. ‘I want to see what’s going on inside that head of yours! Take that damned mask off!’ He reached behind her, fumbled with the strings; the mask fell down and fluttered to the floor beside them, but Antonia didn’t even notice.

All she could see was Patrick’s hard, insistent face, the deep blue eyes hunting over her features.

‘Tell me the truth—how do you really feel about me, Antonia?’ he asked in that tense, shaken voice, and she gave a long sigh.

‘I love you,’ she whispered and heard his sharp intake of breath.

He caught her face between his hands. ‘Darling,’ he said thickly, kissing her with fire and compulsion. Her head began to spin; she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back with a hunger that made Patrick tremble, muttering her name into her yielding mouth.

Antonia fell into that soft velvety darkness again, her eyes shut, her whole body given up to his hands, her mouth quivering wildly under his. The dreams which had haunted her for two years had become her reality. Past and present merged; her blood ran hotly with desire.

Patrick broke off the long kiss at last, groaning, ‘What I want to do is take you to bed, but I’m afraid that any minute now Alex is coming back, and we can’t just lock the door and to hell with him; he would think I was murdering you, and break the door down.’

She laughed unsteadily, leaning on him. ‘Poor Alex; he must be feeling very worried.’

‘Not as worried as I was when your fiancé arrived!’ Patrick said grimly, looking into her eyes. ‘One minute I was so sure you were mine—we’d been making love so passionately before the party—and the next he walked in and when I saw the two of you together I was terrified you were going to go through with that marriage.’

She hesitated, torn between her promise to Cy and her need to tell Patrick the truth.

‘No, I wouldn’t have,’ she finally compromised.

Patrick searched her face, grimacing. ‘Well, I wasn’t so sure. I knew he could offer you a lot more than I could, materially. He’s rich and that palazzo of his would be a big temptation to anyone; and you had said he made you feel safe. I was afraid you’d opt for safety and security.’

‘No, I’m opting for love,’ she said softly, and saw his mouth curve into a smile.

He took her hand, looked at the ring glittering on it, and made a wry face. ‘Take this off, Antonia; I can’t bear to see it on your finger.’

‘Not yet, not tonight, Patrick,’ she said and saw his face tighten, his eyes lift to look at her angrily. She had given Cy that promise, yet she couldn’t let Patrick think she was undecided. She had to explain. ‘Promise me you won’t tell anyone else yet,’ she pleaded. ‘But...well...I’ve already told Cy that I won’t marry him...’

That shook him. His eyes narrowed, startled. ‘You have? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Why let me think you might go on with it? You put me through torture.’

‘I’m sorry, Patrick, I didn’t want to...but, you see, I promised Cy I wouldn’t tell anyone until he had left Venice again. He’s going immediately. But he asked me to keep my ring on until he had gone, then put it in the safe at the palazzo. He didn’t want anyone here to know yet, and I felt I had to agree. Cy has a strong sense of his own dignity, his status here in Venice. He’s such a serious man; he hates being embarrassed, and hates even more the idea of losing face. He wanted to get back to Boston, where nobody knew me. I expect he’ll tell all his friends there that it was he who broke the engagement.’

Patrick watched her with shrewd, thoughtful eyes. ‘You don’t say you’re afraid you’ve hurt him badly, I notice. He didn’t really love you, did he?’

She shook her head, smiled at him wryly. ‘No, you’re right. He never did.’

‘I suspected it right from the beginning, although I didn’t know the guy, and could only guess,’ Patrick said. ‘He’d got engaged to you then flown back to the States and left you here. I worked out that that could mean one of two things. Either he was crazy about you and was afraid to stampede you in case he panicked you and you ran away from him, so had gone back to New York to let you get used to the idea of marrying him—that was a possibility, and would mean he was a very shrewd guy with the confidence to risk leaving you here alone—or, on the other hand, he was a cold fish who wasn’t in love with you at all.’

‘Cy isn’t so much cold as cool, but you’re right. He wasn’t in love with me. He just decided it was time he got married, and I was there at the right time, and seemed a suitable choice. He was very frank about that tonight. I hadn’t realised what he was really like or what he really wanted from me.’ She broke off and sighed. ‘Well, it doesn’t seem fair to him to talk about that. He didn’t hurt me, and I didn’t hurt him. That’s all that matters.’

Patrick nodded. ‘You’re