At The Sicilian Count's Command. Carole Mortimer
Читать онлайн книгу.
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!
This man really did deserve the humiliation she hoped he suffered once Stephen told him she was his daughter, rather than his lover, Angelica decided with tight-lipped annoyance.
‘After you.’ Wolf gave an abrupt inclination of his superior head, his sculptured mouth unsmiling.
Angelica had to nudge the mare twice in the ribs to get her to walk across the cobbles towards the bridle path she usually took when she went riding with Stephen, taking a few minutes to get her bearings in the saddle, not having been down to Stephen’s country estate for several weeks now.
There really hadn’t been the opportunity for Angelica to take riding lessons when she was younger, and Stephen had decided to rectify that once she’d started staying with him. To her relief, she could now sit in the saddle without fear of falling, although she was a more nervous rider than she would have wished.
She certainly wasn’t a match for Wolf Gambrelli’s easy, natural seat; rider and horse seemed to move as one, she acknowledged admiringly as he preceded her down the bridle path and out onto the fields beyond. He controlled the grey effortlessly, the muscles rippling in his shoulders and back as he did so, his hair moving silkily in the gentle summer breeze.
It was a pity he was the type of man that he was, Angelica thought as she watched the play of muscles across the broad width of Wolf Gambrelli’s back; she hadn’t been this physically aware of a man in a long time.
If ever!
She wasn’t dating anyone at the moment, but at twenty-six she had obviously had several boyfriends in the past. But that was exactly what they had been—boyfriends.
She had never met anyone quite like Wolf Gambrelli before—a man who exuded a sensuality that made it impossible not to be completely aware of him at all times.
‘Just how experienced are you?’
Her wandering thoughts came to a sudden halt as she looked across at him and saw the barely concealed contempt in his hooded gaze. ‘Not very,’ she replied.
Let him carry on digging that hole, she told herself determinedly. And she hoped, once he knew the truth, that Wolf Gambrelli would cringe in shame for each of the insults he had deliberately dealt her!
Wolf’s mouth twisted derisively. He found Angelica’s claim very hard to believe, when she obviously had a man of Stephen’s experience so completely captivated.
When, much as he hated to admit it, her every move had him captivated too!
He gave a terse inclination of his head. ‘Perhaps you would like to show me what you can do?’ he invited hardly.
Her mouth tightened. ‘Perhaps I would,’ she returned tartly.
Wolf watched as she urged her horse into a trot beside his, the warm breeze flattening her shirt against her breasts, their hardened tips showing a deep