Challenge Page 5

  Never once had Jessica been tempted to be more accommodating herself. When she closed the door of her flat on a persuasive suitor she would relax in relief and tuck herself up with work or a book. She knew that she was safe when she was on her own. With people you ran the risk of getting hurt.

  She had tried to convey some of this to Leandro, but he took no notice. From her first visit to the yacht he had been deliberately provocative, ignoring alike her protests and her resistance. For once she felt out of control, as if she were a leaf being driven along by a strong wind. She did not like the sensation and said so, but Leandro only laughed and kissed her fingers.

  Jessica had no idea why she did not simply avoid him altogether. He could scarcely order her to dine with him, after all. She cast a covert look at his profile, etched in unexpectedly stern beauty against the sky. Why did she have this feeling that if she did announce she did not intend to eat with him anymore he would just ignore it and, if necessary, carry her down to the dining saloon every night?

  She was used to dictating terms in her relationships. She was used to keeping herself aloof and untouched. Why then was it so impossible with Leandro? Was it sheer persistence on his part? He absolutely refused to notice her resistance and was striding rapidly towards the position where the crew would have every justification for their suspicions that he and the English architect lady were lovers. Or was it some failing in herself? He was too practised at charming much more sophisticated ladies than herself. And moreover, under his mock-wooing, Jessica had found that she was more than a little

  attracted to him. Though she did not, of course, approve of his principles or his way of life.

  She looked at him again, tanned and somnolent and handsome. No, certainly she did not approve of him or the unprecedented effect he had on her responses.

  At last he said, 'Have you ever played? Ever enjoyed yourself at all?'

  She shifted uncomfortably. 'I enjoy my work.' `Ah, yes. Naturally. I was forgetting.'

  `It's very absorbing,' Jessica said, wishing she did not sound so defensive.

  `Absorbing so much that you have no energy left to fall in love?' he asked, amused.

  `Not at all. I

  `So you have been in love,' he said with satisfaction. Jessica was annoyed. 'No, I

  `Have not been in love.' Leandro laughed. 'Just as I thought. It is a shocking state of affairs. I shall do something about it.'

  `Has it occurred to you,' said Jessica with great restraint, 'that, while you were putting words into my mouth, what I actually might have meant was that I am in love now? Not in the past. Now.'

  `No,' Leandro said positively. 'Absolutely no. Impossible.'

  `It is not impossible.' If Jessica had been standing up—and twenty years younger—she would have stamped her foot. 'As you pointed out, I am wedded to my work,' she said recklessly. 'I should remind you that I work in partnership with a man.'

  `And you are telling me that you are in love with this—partner?' Leandro queried, incredulity warring with disdain. The tone in which he said 'partner' could equally well have been used to say 'gnat'.

  Jessica gave him a cool smile. 'I'm telling you nothing. But if you want to speculate about my private life, you

  should take Andrew into account.'

  It was a total fabrication. She had never even thought of falling in love with Andrew, as would become very clear if Leandro were ever to meet him. She must make sure that they never did meet; at least, not until this assignment was over.

  `My poor girl!' The eloquent voice was warm with sympathy. 'You are obviously in a very much worse situation than I thought.'

  Jessica glared at him. 'Why is that?'

  `Because you know so little of life that you do not even realise that you are not in love,' Leandro said softly. His eyes met hers. They were dancing with triumph, but there was something more there than the simple pleasure of having won their battle of words.

  Jessica said, 'You're no judge of that.'

  He said evenly, 'Oh, but I am.' And, as she stared at him, 'You cannot escape, you see, cara Jessica. If you judge me, I judge you. And God help both of us.'

  CHAPTER THREE

  JESSICA was late for dinner. She missed the cocktails entirely. She assured herself—and Sue when she came to fetch her—that it was not deliberate. But underneath she had the faint, lowering suspicion that that threatening remark of Leandro's, his last before Enrico returned with the sun cream, had left her wary and reluctant to return to his company.

  It was not sensible, she told herself. He represented no danger to her. He was only a playboy; attractive, but a playboy nevertheless. She did not care what he thought of her, and, in spite of Sue's fear, she was sure that Prince Giorgio would not care either.

  So why should it matter that he threw out that half laughing, half deadly serious challenge? All she had to do was ignore his overtures. She had done it before with other men without any great difficulty. Why should Leandro be different?

  Yet he was, and it so annoyed Jessica that she flung herselfinto work so hard that she did not notice the sun's decline beyond her porthole, nor hear the dinner gong. She could not with equal justification say she did not notice the telephone when it purred into life across the cabin; she ignored it.

  When Sue arrived she found Jessica sitting cross-legged on the floor, an enormous sheet of paper draped across her knees, drawing with great care, using a pen with a minute point, on the section she had braced against a clipboard.

  `You'll tear the paper if you do it like that,' Sue observed.

  She had knocked and, on not being answered, had entered anyway. She was accustomed to Jessica's habit of total concentration.

  Jessica was frowning horribly over the paper. She looked up with a jump at Sue's words. Sue went down on her knees beside her and very carefully removed first the paper and then the clipboard.

  'You know that the clip goes through the paper,' she said calmly.

  Jessica looked mutinous. 'It doesn't matter. It's only a draft.'

  `And you'll get furious with yourself if you mess it up and have to copy it all out again,' Sue pointed out reasonably. She knew Jessica's habit of impatience as well. I'll put it up on the drawing board for you tomorrow. Now come and eat.'

  Jessica pushed a hand through her hair. As always when she was working, it had come loose from its confining scarf. Softly curling strands had wafted forward on to her cheek and lay feathered out along her neck. Sue surveyed them.

  If you don't come soon, Leandro will come and get you, I think,' she said dispassionately. 'Don't you want to er tidy up, first?'

  For a moment Jessica looked almost panic-stricken. Sue was surprised and her brows rose. But at once the expression was gone and the other woman was calm again, if slightly harassed.

  'Is it late?' she asked cautiously.

  'The beautiful people have returned to their boats and their villas,' Sue agreed, amused. 'There's just you and me, a blonde who looks like a weight-lifter, and some sort of local government official who seems to be an old friend of the family.'

  Jessica looked at her. Sue's lips twitched.

  And Leandro,' she added teasingly.

  Jessica got to her feet with dignity. 'Naturally,' she said.

  She went into the bedroom. Sue followed her and sat on a white-painted chair while Jessica riffled through her wardrobe and extracted a light, elegant jersey dress the colour of beech leaves in the autumn Sue knew the dress. It was beautiful, but it was also very formal. Jessica wore it when she was in one of her crushing moods.

  Sue looked at the dress speculatively while Jessica found underclothes and disappeared to shower. She was back inside five minutes and dressed in three. One thing you could say for Jessica, thought Sue, she might forget her appointments, but she could get ready faster than any other woman in the world. She told her so.

  Jessica's worried expression lifted and she gave Sue a grin.

  `Years of practice,' she admitted.


  `Yes, I suppose so,' Sue said thoughtfully. But you usually only forget the parties you don't want to remember. Why don't you want to remember ordinary family dinner, Jess?'

  Jessica shrugged, not answering.

  `Has Leandro got to you, then?' pursued Sue, rather amused.

  She was surprised at the furious look it earned her.

  `Don't you start, too, for God's sake!' Jessica sighed. `The whole crew are winding up for us to have a steaming affair.' The humour in her voice was forced, but for once Sue seemed not to notice.

  `Then why don't you? Old Chinese proverbs and all that.'

  Jessica smiled perfunctorily, but the green eyes darkened. She looked away, out at the blackness through the porthole. Sue watched curiously. The sudden gravity was unexpected and she wondered, with a little jolt, whether Jessica could possibly really have fallen for Leandro

  Volpi. It seemed unlikely from what she knew of her, but unlikelier things had happened. And she certainly looked serious enough for it to be true.

  `No,' Jessica said with a smile that was more sad than anything else. 'No, Sue. Not my style.' She gave herself a little shake and turned away from the porthole, picking up a wide brown leather belt and clipping it round her waist.

  Sue was nonplussed. She had not expected her teasing to lead into realms of real feeling and was filled with compunction. She was, however, also curious; she ventured one last question.

  `Might it not be fun to change your style, just for once?'

  Jessica had her back to her. 'I changed it,' she said briefly, 'a long time ago.' And, as Sue stared at her, she turned round, saying with an effort at lightness, 'I know the Leandro Volpis of this world, Sue, better than you can imagine. And I don't get involved with them.'

  They went to dinner almost in silence, Sue feeling faintly worried, though she could not have said exactly why. Jessica maintained an imperturbable front.

  Her cool self-possession did not slip, even when they reached the deck and Leandro strolled towards them, taking Jessica's hand between both his own and caressing it openly.

  `Late as always,' he said teasingly. 'Are you trying to make sure we appreciate your company properly?'

  Jessica withdrew her hand. 'I doubt whether you have the slightest concept of what is proper,' she told him, but with a smile that took the sting out of the words. Or was intended to. Her eyes, Sue noted, stayed aloof. From his wry expression, she deduced that Leandro Volpi noticed it too.

  He shook his head and smiled lazily down at her. `You'll find you are wrong,' he murmured under his breath, as if he did not intend to be overheard.

  Jessica fought a blush and pretended she did not hear him.

  He sighed. 'Let me introduce you to my good friend Simone Spinoletti,' he said in quite a different tone. 'He is a very important man round here. Mayor of Castel San Giorgio, no less.'

  Jessica's interest quickened.

  `Really?' She held out her hand to the man, smiling. `The village on the hill above the grotto?'

  Spinoletti nodded, pleased. He looked quite young, probably younger than Leandro. He was short and very wiry. He looked as if he worked out of doors all day, from his tan and air of glowing health. Jessica liked him.

  His outdoor air, however, was deceptive, she found over dinner.

  `My family have worked the land for years,' he told her. 'Centuries. And I too have a little farm with corn and vines down the terraces. But I work in La Spezia.'

  `Really?' She was surprised. She had thought the village too remote to be the home of commuters, and said so.

  `Oh, I do not live in Castel San Giorgio during the week. I have an apartment in La Spezia.' He grimaced. `But I am at home at weekends.'

  `Is that not very complicated?' asked Jessica. 'Running a two-centre life like that?'

  He nodded. 'And it does not make it any easier when I have to fight. . .' He broke off, looking confused, with a quick glance at Leandro that seemed to be begging for help.

  Jessica was thoughtful. Fight? Fight Prince Giorgio's holiday development plans, maybe? She had thought that the Prince was altogether too casual about the attitude of the local authority. But what game was Leandro playing? She looked at him thoughtfully.

  He had been talking to the woman he called Sandra, the statuesque blonde secretary. But now he turned,

  apparently sensing Jessica's eyes upon him.

  He met her gaze enigmatically, his eyes very steady. He raised an eyebrow at her expression.

  Beside her, Simone Spinoletti leaned forward.

  `I have been talking too much, my friend,' he said ruefully.

  Leandro's eyes did not leave Jessica's, though he answered his friend. 'Been spilling the beans, Sim?' `Beans?' The man looked confused.

  Leandro smiled into Jessica's eyes. 'Explain to the man, carissima.'

  With an effort she dragged her eyes away from that mesmeric power.

  `It means to—to tell everything, I suppose,' she said haltingly, trying to concentrate. 'Sort of--to confess.'

  Simone Spinoletti made a face. 'As bad as that?'

  Leandro gave a laugh, throwing his head back. 'Oh, poor Sim! One glance from the lovely enemy and you are a broken man!'

  Enemy? Jessica's gaze swung back to him rapidly. Was she right, then? Was Spinoletti opposed to Prince Giorgio's plans?

  She said carefully, 'I don't see what I've done to make me an enemy.'

  Spinoletti was quite frank. 'It is not your fault,' he assured her generously. 'Prince Giorgio has certainideas—which are not very popular, that is all. You were not to know.'

  `The village?'

  Leandro said drily, 'Which village, Jessica? The one that exists? Or the pretty new one that my uncle wants to build and take all their water?'

  Jessica let out a long breath. 'I see,' she murmured. `Does he know of your objections?'

  `Intimately,' said Leandro, smiling faintly.

  Spinoletti looked uncomfortable. 'It is not a new project, you understand, signorina. For a while it was stopped. But now ' He shrugged.

  `Now,' said Leandro very softly, 'he has employed Shelburne and Lamont of London to turn his ideas into reality.'

  The blonde said sharply, 'This can hardly concern Miss Shelburne, Leo. She did not write her own brief.'

  Leo, thought Jessica, oddly put out by the use of what was clearly a pet name. Leo, for heaven's sake!

  Sue leaned forward. She knew quite as well as Jessica what a stumbling block local resistance to a new development could be. She said anxiously, 'But surely Prince Giorgio will have taken the local council or whatever along with him?' And, as Simone looked puzzled, translated with impatience, 'Got permission. Got their agreement.'

  Leandro and his guest exchanged looks, then slowly Spinoletti shook his head.

  I can see you do not know the way my uncle works,' Leandro drawled. 'He does not normally waste time asking permission.'

  `He does not need permission to build on his own land,' snapped Sandra suddenly, reaching for more wine.

  `Ah, but is it his own land? I would say that was a moot point,' murmured Leandro.

  Jessica threw him a startled look. She had not bothered to check the land title. It was not her job, for one thing, and for another she assumed that the Prince's legal advisers would know more about Italian law on land ownership than she did.

  Sandra's hand appeared to be shaking. She said, in a strangled voice, 'He paid for it.'

  Leandro did not answer. He merely allowed his eyebrows to flick towards his hairline in insolent disbelief. He did,' Sandra insisted. She gulped at her wine.

  Here, thought Jessica, looking from one to the other in slight dismay, was a mystery and, more than that, a nuisance. She caught Sue's eye. It was plain that her secretary was thinking very much along the same lines.

  `You're just being difficult,' Sandra said crossly. `Trying to make trouble.'

  `Now why should I do that?' He was soft as a cat's paw and ten times as dangerous, Jessica judged.
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br />   `Because you're jealous of him,' Sandra snapped.

  Then, as if she was suddenly startled into sobriety by what she had said, she sat back in her chair suddenly, looking rather white.

  Leandro's eyes had narrowed, and once again Jessica was reminded how sharp those eyes could be when he was not play-acting.

  `Jealous?' he mused. 'Now I find that very interesting. Why should I be jealous of my uncle, Sandra?'

  But she said nothing, nursing her wine against her breast in a protective gesture, her mouth mulish.

  'Why?'

  Their eyes met and locked. Jessica had the strong impression that there was some unspoken conversation going on, perfectly intelligible to both parties involved but hidden from everyone else. She shifted uncomfortably.

  The little scene was interrupted only by the arrival of Enrico, flanked by two menservants bearing silver trays of food.

  Sue's eyes widened. Jessica looked across the table at her in amusement; she had felt exactly the same herself on her first evening. As the meal progressed at its normal stately pace and Sue's eyelids began to droop, Jessica's amusement was tempered with sympathy.

  As soon as she reasonably could, she excused herself, declining cheese or any of the sticky pastries that the chef served to terminate the meal. Sue, in profound gratitude, followed her out.

  `Phew!' she exclaimed when they were in the softly lit corridor. 'Is it always like that?'

  `Like the Hapsburgs on a good evening?'

  Sue nodded.

  `More or less,' Jessica told her. 'I didn't believe it the first time I saw it. There was the Body Beautiful wearing nothing but jeans and medallions, and me in my travel stains, and Enrico went parading up and down the table between us as if it was the Coronation.'

  Sue gave a sleepy giggle. 'I'd have given a lot to see that!'

  Jessica said gloomily, 'Leandro thought it was amazingly funny.'

  They were walking slowly down the corridor, their heels clicking on the parquet floor.