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Not that one sleepless night was a problem. No, it was the fact that he found Angelica Harper just as sensually disturbing this morning as he had last night that was the problem.
Because, after witnessing Angelica going to Stephen’s bedroom last night, there was no doubting the intimacy of their relationship!
‘Mmm,’ Angelica murmured appreciatively as she sank beneath the waves of bubbling water, sitting down on one of the underwater tiled benches and resting her head back against the side to look up at the broodingly silent Wolf Gambrelli. ‘You really should go for a swim and then come for a dip in here, Wolf,’ she told him brightly as she luxuriated in the Jacuzzi. ‘It’s absolutely wonderful!’
‘I prefer to watch you,’ he assured her, and again he got down on his haunches to pick up a strand of the long dark hair she had lifted out of the water and draped over the side.
Bringing him close, Angelica noted nervously.
Too dangerously close, she acknowledged, as her breathing suddenly felt constricted, and her gaze was caught and held by the caress of those long fingers on the thick strand of her hair.
‘Do you love him?’
She raised startled eyes to Wolf Gambrelli’s face. The harshness of his tone was matched by the hard glitter in his dark eyes and the tight clenching of his jaw. ‘I beg your pardon?’ she replied uncertainly.
His hand tightened on the thick strand of her hair and he twisted it around his long fingers. Repeatedly. So that Angelica was forced to lift her head, which brought her face so close to his she could now see the flecks of gold amongst the brown in his shrewd eyes.
‘I asked if you love Stephen,’ Wolf Gambrelli repeated. ‘Surely that’s a simple enough question to answer?’ he prompted at her silence. ‘Either a yes or no will do,’ he added, when she still didn’t answer.
Well, no…no, it wouldn’t. Her relationship with Stephen was much more complex than that. They were still getting to know each other. And while she might care for Stephen, she wasn’t sure she understood the life he had led these last thirty years.
Wolf’s jaw clenched as she continued not to reply to his question, his eyes becoming glacial, his hand tightening on the silkiness of her hair. His scrutiny moved down as he caused her throat to arch and her breasts to thrust forward, her hardened nipples clearly outlined against the soft material of the red bikini top.
He knew a sudden hunger to see those breasts bared, to know whether her nipples were a dark, tempting brown or a dusky, inviting pink, to touch and taste them until he heard her throaty groans of pleasure.
‘Count Gambrelli, you’re hurting me!’ Her surprised protest broke into his erotic imaginings.
Wolf frowned darkly as he looked down at her, his frown deepening as he realized he had tightened his hand in her hair and twisted her head back.
He gave a self-disgusted snort as he unravelled that silky tress from his fingers before straightening, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets as he looked down at her, dark storminess in his eyes now. ‘Stephen is obviously besotted with you—’
‘I don’t believe that is any of your business, Count Gambrelli.’
‘I find it…surprising that a young and beautiful woman like you would give herself to a man for his money,’ he opined.
Angelica stopped rubbing the sore area of her scalp. ‘“Give” myself?’ she repeated slowly.
His mouth twisted derisively. ‘I saw you go to Stephen’s bedroom last night, so I think it is a little late for you to attempt to play the outraged virgin!’
He had seen her?
‘And just how did you see me, Count Gambrelli?’ she demanded, having not seen him in the hallway the previous night. ‘Did you stand in the shadows and spy on us?’ she scoffed, and she surged up on a wave of bubbles in the Jacuzzi, then stood up to wade across and climb out of the tub. She grabbed up her towel to wrap it around herself before turning to face him, her cheeks flushed with anger and her eyes glittering with the same emotion. ‘Well?’ she challenged furiously.
What on earth was he doing? Wolf wondered with inward self disgust.
Had his heated response to this woman’s sensual beauty made him forget all discretion?
‘No, of course I was not spying on you,’ he denied coldly. ‘I decided to go back downstairs for a brandy—’
‘And by pure coincidence it happened to be at the time I went to Stephen’s bedroom?’ she concluded. She gave a disgusted shake of her head. ‘I don’t believe my relationship with Stephen is any of your business, Count Gambrelli.’
‘Stephen is my friend—’
‘I don’t believe friends spy on each other!’ Angelica challenged him again.
‘I have told you I was not spying—’
‘I don’t believe you,’ she said flatly.
Wolf stiffened at this denial, nostrils flaring. ‘Do you really think that I would willingly make myself a witness to Stephen’s infatuation with you?’ he refuted.
The angry flush deepened in her cheeks. ‘Stephen’s feelings for me, and mine for him, are absolutely none of your concern—’
‘Not even if I believe he is making a fool of himself over a woman young enough to be his daughter?’ Wolf came back swiftly.
Angelica became very still, lowering her lashes as a shield to the shock she knew would be in her eyes.
Because, without realising it, Wolf Gambrelli had inadvertently hit on exactly what her relationship was to Stephen. She was his daughter. His illegitimate daughter. Born to Kathleen Singer eight months after her affair with the married Stephen Foxwood had ended.
Angelica had always known that her mother’s husband, Neil Harper, wasn’t her real father—she had been a precocious five years old when Neil and her mother were married. But it had never mattered. Neil had always treated Angelica exactly the same as his own daughters by Kathleen—Saffron and Rosemary.
Although Kathleen had told Angelica the name of her real father when, aged twelve, she had asked about him, Angelica’s curiosity hadn’t been strong enough at the time for her to want to trace him. Especially when, at eighteen and a little more curious, she had discovered that Stephen was still married to Grace.
But a year ago she had seen Grace’s obituary in the newspaper—had learnt that Stephen and Grace’s thirty-year marriage had been childless, which had reawakened Angelica’s own curiosity about the father she had never known.
A curiosity she had discussed with her mother and Neil before she had even attempted to see Stephen Foxwood. As she had known they would be, both Neil and Kathleen had been completely supportive of her decision to at least make contact with her real father and let him know that he did have a child after all—a daughter.
That first meeting between father and daughter had been extremely emotional…
It had been followed by further meetings, and by Angelica agreeing six months later to start occasionally staying with Stephen at weekends, so that they could get to know each other better.
They were still getting to know each other…
And now this man—this Wolf Gambrelli, this arrogant Sicilian count—had come along and passed judgement on a relationship he knew absolutely nothing about!
She and Stephen had agreed from the onset that for the foreseeable future their relationship would remain private between the two of them. A secret that Stephen had obviously kept even from his close friend Wolf Gambrelli. Resulting in this supercilious man making assumptions about their relationship—insulting assumptions.
Angelica didn’t believe for a moment that Wolf Gambrelli’s comments about their assumed relationship were out of concern for Stephen. She had seen the searing way Wolf Gambrelli had watched her every movement last night. And again, this morning, she’d seen the desire in his eyes when he looked at her, and had known that he was pursuing self-interest rather than concern for his friend.
A self-interest that was going nowhere as far as she was concerned. Wolf Gambrelli was just a younger version of Stephen. And while she might forgive Stephen all his past indiscretions—simply because he was her father and she was growing to love him for that alone—she certainly wasn’t stupid enough to become involved with a man who was just as emotionally unreliable!
‘Do you have nothing to say in your defence?’ Wolf Gambrelli broke into the lengthy silence.
Angelica drew in a controlling breath before raising her lids to look at him scornfully. ‘I’m not on trial, Count Gambrelli.’
‘You are playing with the emotions of a man I consider to be a good friend as well as my business partner—’
‘Stephen is a big boy, Count Gambrelli,’ she told him firmly.
‘I’m sure he doesn’t need you to intercede on his behalf!’
‘Stephen doesn’t seem to see you in the way that I do,’ Wolf grated harshly.
She raised one dark, mocking brow. ‘And just how is that, Count Gambrelli?’
Wolf’s jaw clenched, his frustration with this situation growing. Having spent most of the night thinking of this woman, imagining her naked and wanton in another man’s arms, he should never have come in here when he saw her alone in the pool—certainly should never have begun this present conversation.
He was making his own attraction to Angelica far too obvious.
And that wasn’t a situation that sat comfortably on his usually self-assured, emotionally self-contained shoulders!
‘Admittedly you seem cleverer than most, by keeping your apartment and your job, and maintaining your independence,’ Wolf admitted. ‘But as that only seems to have made Stephen even more besotted with you, I have no doubt that he will very soon insist that you change that arrangement!’
‘Really?’ Angelica Harper came back derisively. ‘Thank you for sharing that information with me, Count Gambrelli.’ She gave a sharp inclination of her head. ‘Now, if you will excuse me…? I find the air in here rather—oppressive!’
Wolf wanted to reach out and stop her from leaving. Wanted to grasp both her arms and shake her. Wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until she agreed to leave Stephen and come to him…!
This realisation was shocking, totally at odds with his usual casual and unpossessive attitude towards women, and all he could do was stand and watch as Angelica walked away from him.
No doubt with the intention of telling her ‘besotted’ lover exactly how he had just insulted her!
Which meant not only had he made his own interest in Angelica obvious, but he had also probably just completely ruined a friendship and business partnership that had existed for years.
But there was no evidence that Angelica had mentioned the incident to Stephen when the three of them sat down to breakfast together an hour later, the older man seeming just as friendly and relaxed as he always was.
Angelica’s behaviour towards Wolf was a little frosty—understandably so!—but other than that she gave no indication that their conversation in the poolhouse had ever taken place.
Wolf studied her covertly: her long, silky hair had been washed and dried and pulled back in a ponytail, emphasising her high cheekbones and the delicate line of her jaw. Her only make-up appeared to be a lipgloss that matched the colour of the red tee shirt she wore with faded fitted denims, the swell of her breasts temptingly visible above its low neckline…
‘Would you go riding with Angel this morning, Wolf?’
His attention had been so intently focused on Angelica, on those tantalising glimpses of her creamy breasts, that for a moment Wolf found himself completely disorientated, frowning darkly as he turned to Stephen. ‘Sorry?’ he responded distantly.
Stephen raised silver-grey brows at Wolf’s obvious distraction. ‘I was suggesting you might like to go for a ride with Angel…?’
That was what he had thought the other man had said! Except he now realised Stephen had been talking about horses…!
The line Wolf’s thoughts had been following had taken him in another direction entirely!
‘Stephen, I really don’t think—’
‘Oh, come on, Angel.’ The older man cut chidingly through her protest. ‘Unfortunately I have a conference call to deal with this morning, and you know I don’t like you going out alone just yet. Angel has only just learnt to ride,’ he explained to Wolf.
But Wolf Gambrelli was the last person Angelica wanted to accompany her anywhere!
A fact Stephen should have been all too aware of after the conversation they’d had before breakfast, when she’d told him that she believed he ought to explain their real relationship to Wolf—that the Sicilan seemed somewhat confused as to her role in Stephen’s life.
She could have put it more bluntly than that, but was aware that Wolf Gambrelli had been a close friend of Stephen’s for years—that it wasn’t up to her to cast a shadow over that friendship. Stephen had assured her that he had every intention of talking to Wolf about their relationship this weekend. Just not yet, it seemed…
‘I’m sure Count Gambrelli has better things to do this morning than go riding with me.’ She spoke determinedly even as she shot Stephen an appealing glance, not sure she could take any more of Wolf Gambrelli’s insulting remarks without retaliating.
Because if she really had been Stephen’s latest mistress, then she would have lost no time in telling Wolf Gambrelli exactly what he could do with his very personal remarks!
The one thing she had absolutely insisted on when she’d agreed to spend time with Stephen, so that the two of them could get to know each other better, was that she didn’t want anything from him. Not the help with her career that he’d offered, or the money he had wanted to settle on her.
But she would have felt exactly the same way if she had been Stephen’s mistress rather than his daughter!
‘You don’t have anything else to do this morning, do you, Wolf?’ Stephen asked.
Something didn’t add up here, Wolf decided. For one thing, Stephen didn’t seem in the least concerned at the thought of Wolf going off for the morning with Angelica. Obviously Stephen knew him well enough to know of his code concerning attached women, but even so the other man was putting a lot of trust in him…
And Wolf still couldn’t work out why Angelica hadn’t told her lover about his earlier rudeness to her. It had been the obvious thing for her to do, after all.
‘Why not?’ he accepted languidly. ‘I’m sure I would greatly enjoy riding with Angel,’ he added softly, and he saw the delicate colour creep into Angelica’s alabaster cheeks at his deliberately provocative reply.
‘Great!’ Stephen nodded his satisfaction with the arrangement, seeming totally unaware of the undercurrents in the conversation. ‘I’ll feel much happier knowing Angel is in safe hands.’
Wolf wouldn’t have felt so quite so pleased about the arrangement if he were Stephen—not when Wolf’s own feelings towards Angelica Harper were far from innocent.
And, more disturbing, far from under his normally rigid control…!
CHAPTER THREE
WOLF felt even less confident about maintaining that control when he joined Angelica down at the stables half an hour later. The figure-hugging jodhpurs she wore left little to the imagination. Even her billowing white shirt, which was tucked into the narrow waistband of those jodhpurs, tantalized—hinting at, rather than hiding, the firm uptilt of her unconfined breasts beneath.
‘I hope you aren’t expecting too much of me, Count Gambrelli,’ she told him ruefully.
Wolf lifted his gaze sharply from the allure of her unfettered breasts, knowing by the way her brows had risen in query that she was aware of his heated appraisal.
‘I really am just a novice at this,’ she confided, even as the stable-lad cupped his hands so that she could swing herself up onto the back of the placid black mare that had been saddled for her.
He’d been caught staring like an untried youth, Wolf acknowledged self-disgustedly. What a gauche, unsophisticated fool she made of him!
‘All evidence to the contrary—Angel!’ he flung back at her as he took the reins of a dapple-grey mount from another stable-lad to swing himself easily up into the saddle.
Angelica realised quickly that what he implied was too explicit to be mistaken for anything other than what it was.
He really was an arrogant bastard, she decided. So damned sure of himself. To the point that she knew she would have no sympathy with him at all once Stephen told him of their true relationship and he was made to look a complete idiot.
In fact, she was so annoyed, so incensed by Wolf Gambrelli’s continued rudeness towards her, that she no longer felt any inclination to prevent him from digging himself even further into that particular hole!
The fact that he looked absolutely magnificent, sitting confidently astride the grey, his hair a burnished gold in the sunlight, his white shirt and a pair of Stephen’s jodhpurs and black riding boots giving him a raffishly compelling appearance that was breathtaking, did nothing to lessen her feelings of resentment.
Wolf Gambrelli was too damned good-looking for his own good, and too cavalier when it came to women. Surely he deserved to be taken down a peg or two!
‘Thanks, Tom.’ She bestowed a grateful smile on the stable-boy as he helped her to put her booted feet into the stirrups. ‘Ready, Count?’ she prompted dryly as he watched the exchange with narrowed eyes.
As if he suspected her of trying to seduce the stable-lad!
