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Muttering darkly, Nora tapped on the bedroom door and pushed it open. Annie, wandering downstairs to get a much-needed breath of fresh air, hoped that all would go well. But beneath her very real concern for her mother her emotions were taking on a strong life of their own. They had nothing at all to do with Willa and everything to do with Luke.
For the first time in her life she had actually pitied Willa, and out of that pity had sprung understanding. Not of Willa, but of herself. Ever since she could remember—apart from that brief and traumatic affair with Hernando—she had been determined not to emulate her mother's lifestyle, her giddy affairs, her numerous marriages, her perpetual pursuit of the illusion of love.
But what if love wasn't an illusion? What if love, true love, could be real and earthy, solid and sound?
Willa had never been able to settle for one man, but had been too busy searching for a perfection that didn't exist, fated by some emotional flaw that refused to allow her to accept that life, even love, could not forever be perfect, a high romance. No man or woman was ever perfect, and real love, devoid of immature illusions, gladly adored the loved one's good points while learning to accept the not so good.
Had she, she wondered restlessly, been wrong to run from Luke? The astonishingly strong sexual chemistry between them could so easily have turned to love, on her part, at least.
Restlessly, she moved through the hours of the lazy afternoon, Luke walking through her mind. She wouldn't have believed it possible to miss someone so much. Her whole body ached for him. She felt sick and tearful.
She was on the point of phoning The Laurels in the vain hope that he might still be there when she admonished herself to grow up. All he wanted from her was a short-lived affair, a glorious but fleeting gratification of the senses. And so, no matter how her body responded to his, she couldn't go along with that. She couldn't be stupid enough to lay herself open to that kind of heartbreak.
She had done the only sensible thing. She had put distance between herself and the overwhelming temptation he offered. So why—away from his beguiling eyes, his magic touch—was she totally unable to put him out of her mind?
CHAPTER NINE
'She's doing wonderfully well, isn't she?' There was an almost maternal pride in Nora's voice as she carried the lunch tray in from the patio. 'And you can take most of the credit for that. I can usually handle her but I was out of my depth this time.'
'Nonsense,' Annie denied listlessly. 'Sooner or later she would have realised what a fool she was making of herself. Now, if you're sure you can manage, I'll drive into town.' The food she had already prepared for this evening's small party was stowed away in one of the giant refrigerators, and she needed to get right away from the villa for a while. Oh, how she needed that!
'Of course I can manage.' Nora plunged the lunch dishes into a sink of hot water. 'She's going to have to rest now and then I'm to give her a face pack and massage, and do her hair. I don't know, though…' Her busy hands stilled in the hot water. 'Is tonight's party a good idea? It's early days.'
'It's what she wants. She wants to prove to the few close friends she has around here that she's as good, if not better, than usual.' Annie gave Nora a reassuring
smile and headed for the door. 'Don't worry so.'
Personally, the idea of one of her mother's parties—although a small one—appalled her. But Willa had made a supreme effort to pull herself together and it seemed sensible to go along with her wishes, within reason.
Annie herself had no wish to attend the party tonight but she had to, if only to keep an eye on Willa, to see she didn't overtax herself or get upset by the type of vitriolic remarks her so-called friends were apt to come out with. Because although the star had made remarkable progress her nerves were still tightly strung.
And it would be a thankless task, Annie thought wearily as she slid behind the wheel of her mother's Porsche. Willa would resent the idea that anyone was keeping an eye on her, especially as it happened to be her daughter! Annie hadn't missed the ice in those big dark eyes, even though Willa had been superficially pleasant all day. No doubt she was still remembering the harsh truths Annie had come out with. The tactics had worked, but they obviously still rankled!
But to the party she must go; therefore a dress she must have. She had brought only a rudimentary wardrobe with her, and an afternoon's shopping might take her mind off Luke and the content of the dreams she'd had about him, which had been erotic enough to make her blush whenever she thought about them!
But nothing worked. Wandering through the little town left her mind freer than she wished. All day yesterday, and this morning, she had been at full stretch—organising the immediate return of the servants, arranging for Willa's secretary to report for duty after the weekend, making nourishing little meals to tempt her mother's capricious appetite, contacting Griff in the States, at Willa's request, to beg him to get himself over here post-haste, helping Nora to organise the food, drink and floral decorations for the party, issuing telephoned invitations…
Even busy, as she had undoubtedly been, she hadn't been able to stop thinking of Luke. The wretched man was becoming an obsession!
Sick of herself, she dived into the first boutique she came across and walked out less than ten minutes later, her purchases made with impatience and no pleasure.
She would drive back to the villa and go for a swim. A long, strenuous swim. It was a beautiful afternoon and the exercise might tire her sufficiently to dull her mind, to make her muscles ache so that the ache in her heart would blend in with all the other twinges and become unrecognisable for what it was.
After dumping her packages in her room she tapped lightly on her mother's door and obeyed the summons to 'Come!'
'Do you have a swimsuit I could borrow?' she asked, ultra-polite. 'I didn't think to pack my own.'
'But of course, dear. Nora will show you where they are.' The tone was sugary sweet but the brown eyes were frosty and Annie looked away from the graceful, kimono-clad figure reclining on the broad windowseat and glanced at Nora, who was busy with a box of heated rollers.
'Third drawer down in the white chest,' Nora instructed, then turned to Willa. 'It's time we got your hair washed if I'm to do anything with it.'
Running over the smoothly cut emerald-green terraces, a towel draped around her shoulders, Annie felt deep desperation claw at her, making her stomach churn, her throat burn tightly with unshed tears. She knew she was literally running away— from Willa's concealed resentment, from herself, from memories of Luke. The only trouble was, there was nowhere to run.
The sea beckoned, a glittering, crinkled blue silk, edged with lacy white foam, and Annie shrugged the towel away and felt stupidly self-conscious as the Mediterranean sun lapped lovingly over her almost naked body.
Willa's selection of swimwear had comprised a multitude of bikinis, not a one-piece in sight, and nothing to choose between them in the skimpiness stakes. She was slightly larger than Willa, practically everywhere, and she was sure she looked positively indecent in the tiny wisps of jade-green fabric.
But there was no one to see her, she reassured herself as her long legs carried her over the clean, honey-coloured sand. The beach was private, access between the high cliffs only gained through the villa's extensive gardens.
