been enjoying a tremendous building boom. He had made the most of it, buying up broken-down properties, putting up lucrative apartments, office blocks and a new shopping mall.
Leo had financed him at the beginning. He had paid Leo back with interest. Leo Templeton had made a better life possible for him. He was acutely aware how much he owed Leo, who had stepped in after the “baby Ella” incident to take on a trusteeship, a milder form of guardianship, of him. But Leo’s granddaughter was too rare a creature to be tainted by his squalid past. Whatever residual feeling remained from that day years ago, both hid it so deep it might never be allowed to surface.
Clio had lived with her grandfather since Lyle Templeton, Clio’s father, had remarried a few years back. Clio’s mother had been killed in a yachting catastrophe when two yachts had collided at sea. Clio had been seventeen at the time, devastated by her loss and the bizarre way it had happened. They had been as close as mother and daughter could be.
There was no rapport whatever with the second Mrs. Templeton. Keeley Templeton was many years younger than Lyle, no great beauty like Clio’s mother Allegra, with her aristocratic Italian background, but she had turned herself into a glamour girl with an endless flow of small talk that was good for such functions.
Inside the mansion, the entrance hall, big enough to park several cars, was filled with people who had gone through the receiving formalities and were making their way into the reception rooms. Josh was one of the last to arrive, just as he planned. Leo, still a fine, handsome man but looking frailer every time he saw him, was standing with his beautiful granddaughter, receiving their guests as they arrived. How easy it was to see Clio had been born to wealth and privilege and a mix of only the best genes. Her mother had been a member of a patrician Florentine family.
Lyle Templeton had met Allegra when he had been visiting Italy as part of his Grand Tour. Their meeting place, the iconic Uffizi, where both of them had been contemplating Botticelli’s “The Birth of Venus”. Allegra at that time had been a very promising art student and a highly cultured young woman. She had spoken English. He’d had no Italian but they had fallen madly in love. On sight. The classic coup de foudre. Scarred as he was within, Josh knew that could happen. The sight of Clio Templeton even as a nine-year-old was graven into his mind.
“Good to see you, Josh!” Leo beamed as the two men shook hands. Leo’s pleasure was so obvious that quite a few people stopped in the middle of their conversations to wonder why the patrician Leo Templeton had taken this tall, stunningly handsome but definitely edgy young man under his wing. He might have been a gatecrasher such was their disapproval, albeit carefully hidden. No one dared to put that disapproval on plain view. No one wished to offend Leo, of course. No one wanted to offend the likes of Josh Hart.
Now they were facing each other. “Good evening, Josh.” Clio addressed him in her charming voice.
“How are you, Clio?” His eyes consumed her. That was the best part of his blue eyes. They burned, or so he’d been told, but they gave away no hint of his inner emotions. That’s what made him a brilliant poker player.
“I’m very well, thank you.” She tilted her lovely oval face up to him.
She had beautifully marked eyebrows, her dark eyes huge. She looked exquisite, the ideal model for a fine painting. He had learned from Leo that her mother had called her Clio after the subject of one of Allegra’s favourite paintings, Vermeer’s The Allegory of Painting depicting the Muse of History, Clio. With that in mind he had actually taken a side trip from Rome to Vienna to check out the painting in the museum where it was held. All in all he had spent a lot of time in art museums at home and abroad. He had made it his business to educate himself way beyond his Law-Commerce Degree, which Leo had made possible, cramming so much into a few short years, vast amounts of learning and knowledge. It amused him that he was something of a natural scholar. But the beautiful Clio was to be no part of his life. He was excluded from the Templeton ranks.
Tonight she was wearing a long satin dress in a colour that beggared description. It was neither green nor gold but a blend of the two. The plaited straps that held the bodice were knotted over her collarbone. There was another knot beneath the discreetly plunging neckline; a wide black sash showed off her narrow waist. Her wonderful sable hair was arranged with the classic centre parting and drawn back from her honey-skinned face into intricate loops. Three-tiered pendant earrings swung from her ears. He thought the stones were citrine, mandarin garnet and amethyst, probably Bulgari. She looked ravishing, a sheen all over her.
Did the excitement in her presence ever go away? He wanted no other woman but her. The one woman he couldn’t have.
He had only just moved from the receiving line into the living room that was so richly and elegantly furnished it could have featured in Architectural Digest when Keeley Templeton broke away from her group to come towards him with a show of enthusiasm that put him right on edge.
“Josh!” Her smile held the usual sexual come-on. “This is a surprise!” She laughed, going so far as to attempt to draw him into a hug, only he took her hand, holding it down firmly to her side.
“I don’t think so, Keeley.” There was a warning grate in his voice. “Your husband is over there. He mightn’t like it.”
“Probably not,” she sighed. “But you do look wonderful, Josh. I’ve never seen a man look better in a dinner jacket. Terrific line and cut, and I especially love white dinner jackets in the summer.”
“And you look quite exceptionally dolled up,” he remarked very dryly, his eyes a startlingly blue in the golden tan of his face.
“Don’t you like it?” She looked down at herself, then made a little face. She was wearing a short, strapless red dress sewn with crystals all over the bodice. It had cost the earth, and it showed off her legs, which were good. “Why don’t you come join us?” she invited, glancing back to where her husband and a group of friends were in conversation. “You must want a drink.”
Josh looked over her bright chestnut head with its fashionable blonde streaks, taking note of the people in the room. Many an overt stare shifted immediately when he focused on them. He knew he had a jittery effect on a lot of people. “Why is that?” he asked. “Why must I want a drink?”
Keeley gave a playful moan. Josh Hart fascinated her. She knew for a fact he fascinated every woman in town. The guy was drop-dead sexy and incredibly handsome, though strange to say he appeared uncaring about it. “I guess that’s what I love about you, Josh.” She knew her near-uncontrollable lust for him was leaving her wide open to trouble. “You’re so difficult.”
“You’re sure you don’t mean I don’t play games, Keeley?” He was getting ready to walk away from her. He knew Keeley was attracted to him. Big time. She wasn’t doing terribly well at hiding it. He knew perfectly well people had affairs in the town; quite a few here tonight, even standing in the same group as if they were all good pals. The hypocrisy of it all! Keeley was married, and to Clio’s father, who was a fine-looking man, if a real snob. That alone should have given her pause and made her behave. Probably she’d already had a drink or two. Lyle Templeton was, in fact, watching their exchange with an eagled-eyed intensity just short of a glare, his tanned cheeks turning red at what could have been construed as a public humiliation.
“God, I wish you would,” Keeley leaned closer towards him, helpless beneath the force of attraction he exuded.
“Unless you want me to stomp hard on your pretty toes, you’d better walk away, Keeley,” he warned. No use playing the gentleman with Keeley. “I definitely don’t want trouble.”
“As if you couldn’t handle it!” She gave him a conspiratorial wink, a little unsteady on her expensive red and black stilettos.
Reluctantly he put a steadying hand to her elbow. “Walk away now, Keeley.”
“Why, when I find it so much more exciting talking to you? Why don’t you like me, Josh?” she crooned, her expression utterly exposed. “Is it because people are watching?”
“Don’t