herself for attack.
‘I presume you do intend to speak, Kelda.’ The smooth, cultured drawl sliced through the thickening atmosphere and clawed nasty vibrations of threat down her sensitive spine. He was like a sleek, terrifyingly dangerous black panther about to strike.
‘Did you hear someone speak?’ she asked Jeff, planting a trembling hand on his arm. ‘I didn’t.’
She swept past Angelo and his dainty little blonde sidekick with inches to spare and her classic nose as high in the air as she could hold it.
‘Do you realise who that was?’ Jeff bleated in her ear.
‘Once upon a time, my mother was married to his father. That creep was my stepbrother. And we didn’t part on such terms that I feel I have to notice him in public.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me that your mother had been married to Tomaso Rossetti?’
Jeff was so helplessly impressed by anyone whose bank balance was greater than his father’s. ‘It wasn’t important.’
‘You just cut Angelo Rossetti dead,’ Jeff groaned. ‘Are you out of your mind?’
Sitting down, Kelda fought to still the nervous tremors still rippling through her. ‘He told me once that I had the manners of a slum child. He ought to be pleased to see how well I’ve turned out.’
Shock seemed to have sobered Jeff up. ‘My father’s into the Rossetti Bank to the tune of a million and we’re looking for an extension on the loan. I was so shattered by what you did out there, I didn’t speak either.’ Abruptly, he bolted upright again. ‘I’d better go and apologise.’
Her temples were throbbing. ‘I’m sorry...I didn’t intend to involve you—’
‘My God, you must have a death wish!’ Jeff muttered. ‘Nobody treats Angelo Rossetti like that and gets away with it.’
‘I think you’ll find that I have,’ Kelda asserted with more confidence than she actually felt.
She had gone too far. Temper and other emotions that she had no desire to examine had taken over. Did she never learn? Angelo taunted her and she still went for the bait. The teenage years might be behind her but evidently the responses weren’t. Only she could know the depth of the bitter mortification which overwhelmed her in Angelo’s radius. Nothing had changed.
Absolutely nothing had changed. In one glance she had learnt that. Angelo had stared her down with freezing hauteur and distaste. The dust beneath his feet would have inspired less repugnance. Of course he hadn’t seen her since that night...not once, not even briefly. He had gone abroad and shortly after that their parents had parted. She shuddered under the onslaught of a mess of confused emotions, none of which was pleasant.
Tonight she had reacted in self-defence as she had so often in the past. ‘Hit and run’ best summed it up, she conceded shamefacedly. If she hadn’t got away immediately, her control would have splintered and he would have seen that, caught unprepared, she was vulnerable. Naturally his hostility would be on a high again at the prospect of her re-entering the family circle with her slum-child manners and her legendary promiscuity.
But this time Angelo had been ahead of her. This time he was isolating her. She recognised the subtle brilliance of Angelo’s manipulation of her mother and her brother. How come they didn’t see it? Frankly, Tim was pleased at the idea of being part of the Rossetti clan again. Tim was always broke, always in debt. Tomaso was open-handed with money.
And Tim, like her mother, had always walked in awe of Angelo. Angelo was so clever that he had finished university in his teens. Angelo spoke half a dozen languages with the sort of fluency that made lesser mortals cringe. Angelo was so dazzlingly successful in the field of international finance that he was currently being tipped to become the youngest ever chief executive of Rossetti Industrial. Tongues that had dared to talk of nepotism had long since been silenced. Everything Angelo touched turned to gold. His opinions were quoted in the serious newspapers. Tomaso thought his son literally walked on water.
‘I must say that he was very gracious about it.’ Jeff reappeared, exuding an air of strong relief. ‘He’s asked us to join their table.’
Kelda went rigid. ‘But what about your friends?’
Jeff grimaced. ‘Don’t be so naïve, Kelda. You get an invite like that from Angelo Rossetti and you grab it. He’s got influence like you wouldn’t believe in all sorts of powerful corners—’
‘I’m sorry. I have a dreadful headache.’ Kelda stood up, her face a mask of disdain. ‘You can call a cab for me if you like—’
Slowly he shook his head. ‘Kelda...’
She was immovable. Catch her falling for a trick like that? No way would she give Angelo the opportunity to put her down in front of an audience. He excelled in that direction. Time was when she wouldn’t have had the wit to forestall him...time was when she would have waded in with both fists metaphorically flying, unconcerned by the presence of others. Suddenly she was unbelievably grateful to be a mature twenty-four, rather than an insecure, dreadfully unhappy teenager, trying to act older than she was.
Jeff was furious. She was wryly amused at the way the prospect of making an influential contact had cleared his wits and turned him off his previous insistence that he loved her and wanted to marry her. Insisting that he go and find his friends, she went home alone.
Switching on the lights in the lounge, she kicked off her shoes and switched on her answering machine. Nothing. Once there would have been at least a couple of messages. Not now...she was yesterday’s news. The Iceberg, who drove innocent married men to suicide. Her apartment would sell for far less than she had paid for it. Her bank balance was at an all-time low. She had had insurance for accident or injury but nothing to cover what amounted to being virtually unemployable. The media had turned her into a figure of hate. There had been plenty of pictures of Danny’s tear-stained, plain little wife. The wife that Kelda had not even known existed, living in the country as she did with their two young children while Danny had lived the life of a free and easy single man in the city during the week.
He had actually told Kelda that he went home most weekends to his elderly parents! With a sudden choked sound between a laugh and a sob, Kelda covered her working face with two unsteady hands. How could she have been so stupid? And how could Danny have told so many lies? For the money, she thought cynically. The true story would have made surpassingly unexciting reading. Danny had made her look like a vicious bitch, who used men up like tissues and threw them away when she got bored. And the truth...really the truth was far more pathetic, she reflected.
Here she was all dressed up in the proverbial sexy little black dress which showed off her perfect curves and endless legs and what was she, she asked herself painfully as she stared at her reflection in one of the mirrored wardrobes in her bedroom. A complete fraud! Less of a woman certainly than Danny’s poor little wife, who loved him and had borne his children and who had apparently been willing to forgive and forget from the instant he landed in that hospital bed!
What did it feel like to love like that? She couldn’t imagine it...she had never loved, only once experienced the devastation of desire...and that she never ever allowed herself to remember. It had hurt so much and so badly; she had been savaged by her own vulnerability. Deep down inside the pain was still there like an indoor alarm system. A man put his arms around her and if she felt anything at all, the alarm went off. If he makes me want him...what then? And she would go cold, inside and out.
The intercom buzzed beside the front door. It was two in the morning. With a crease between her brows, she pressed the button.
‘Angelo here...’
Kelda’s stomach clenched fearfully. She leapt back a step.
‘Go away!’ she shouted.
She heard muffled speech as if he had turned to speak to someone else.
‘Calm down, cara,’ Angelo purred.
Her