Tangled Destinies. SARA WOODЧитать онлайн книгу.
memories were associated with the bouquet of white orchids that István had sent for their mother’s funeral. Her father had thrown the flowers in the dustbin and so István’s tribute had never taken their rightful place on her mother’s coffin. That fact had deeply distressed her.
‘Ester’s favourite flowers,’ ruminated István quietly, apparently unaware of the drama inside her head.
‘I know,’ she said huskily. He’d been the only one to remember. He’d always given her mother orchids on her birthday. She’d once said that they reminded her of the ones that had been grown in the hothouse close to her old home in Hungary.
István touched her shoulder to regain her attention because she’d averted her face from his. No way did she want him to know how close she was to tears.
‘Tell me something,’ he said gently. ‘What do you think of Kastély Huszár? Intimidating? Alien? Not to your taste, perhaps?’
Glad he’d turned to more mundane things, she eyed him scornfully. If he was trying to play down the attractions of John’s hotel, he’d find her unresponsive. ‘Friendly, welcoming and quite the loveliest place I’ve ever seen,’ she answered, warmth seeping into her tone. ‘Hasn’t John done well?’
‘Oh, he’s landed himself a good job all right,’ admitted István.
‘I’m glad you realise it,’ she said drily.
‘I’m glad you do. I want you to be quite aware of his good fortune.’
Her forehead wrinkled with a puzzled frown. ‘I imagine all these deep, meaningful remarks are leading somewhere?’
‘I hope so,’ he said silkily, his sensual mouth quivering with amusement. ‘I sincerely do hope so.’
It was as if he wanted her to find him seductive, she thought dazedly. And blinked. Alarmed, she said the first thing that came into her head. ‘I do think he’s organised the foyer well,’ she burbled. ‘A shiny reception desk with pigeon-holes for keys and people in uniform and badges would have been out of place. With those books and hats and things scattered about, it’s like someone’s home.’ Mercifully she ran out of breath.
‘Home? Not like our home used to be, I hope. There’ll be tears before bedtime, if so,’ he said enigmatically.
Tanya stiffened. ‘What precisely do you mean by that?’ she demanded, her eyes dark and wary.
‘I’m talking from my own point of view, of course,’ he replied smoothly. ‘I found the family remarkably divided.’
‘You left the family divided,’ she corrected tartly.
‘I’m flattered you imagine it was all my own work,’ he drawled sardonically. ‘Of course,’ he reflected, ‘you were incapable of really seeing anyone’s faults. Everyone loved you because you accepted them, faults and all, and were more concerned for others than yourself. You were the mediator.’
‘I was?’ she said, surprised. It hadn’t been a role she’d been aware of.
‘You tried a little too hard to see the best side of each and every one of us and I admired that,’ he told her idly. ‘Though you gave up on me.’
‘Hardly surprising,’ she said coldly. Her curiosity got the better of her, though. ‘What—what faults did everyone else have—yours being glaringly obvious?’
‘Well, despite all your gentle hints, you never managed to modify your mother’s odd obsession with me, or to change the fact that your father favoured John far more than you three girls. As for Sue, well, you never curbed her passion for cutting up any clothes left lying around and returning them with every inch re-designed and embroidered. I had a bit of explaining to do at boarding-school when the under-matrons unpacked two shirts with smocking on the front!’
Tanya laughed and then felt guilty that she’d done so. ‘Mariann?’ she prompted.
He smiled. ‘You worried unnecessarily over the fact that she sent out totally unconscious signals to every male within a radius of a hundred miles. You worried that she’d become a fallen woman if you didn’t protect her and form a human barrier against the young men who hung around her. I don’t suppose it ever occurred to you that they were rather taken with you, too.’
‘Of course they weren’t!’ she said hotly. ‘Mariann’s got the looks, not me. And yes, it did worry me for her sake, but she seems to take men’s admiration in her stride and isn’t vain or promiscuous at all.’
Tanya thought that it was extraordinary that he should have noticed so much, because he’d always seemed quite indifferent to family life. Those thumbnail sketches of them all made her feel rather uncomfortable. It was as though he’d watched them from a stranger’s viewpoint and judged them with clinical detachment. Your mother, he’d said; your father. Had that been deliberate or unconscious? All at once, she was beginning to entertain serious doubts about his relationship to her.
‘You—you were joking about not being my brother, weren’t you?’ she asked shakily.
‘No.’ The word vibrated through her body.
Suddenly she was too scared to believe him. Scared of the way she was beginning to respond, scared of the churning emotions working away inside her, destroying all caution. ‘It can’t be true! Mother would have told us when she knew she was dying,’ she said huskily. ‘You’re up to something! Why are you here, István?’ she asked with passionate intensity. ‘Tell me!’
‘In time. This is not the moment.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘When you’ve been parted from someone and you’ve both gone your separate ways, you don’t rush the reunion. It’s too volatile a situation and calls for a more delicate, less impulsive touch.’
She gulped in dismay at the husky threat in his tone. He was admitting that he was playing a cat-and-mouse game and meant slyly to work his way into Lisa’s affections again. However, her intended protest was shelved when she realised that John had returned.
‘All done?’ She smiled wanly. Not long now, perhaps a sharp show-down with István in a moment, and then she could be alone to gather herself together. She put a hand on John’s arm affectionately. ‘Don’t bother to show me my room. Let me have the key. You spend time with Lisa,’ she continued, a meaningful look in her eyes, ‘while this reprobate with the designer muscles makes himself useful by carrying my case.’
If she did anything, she decided, she’d make sure the bride and groom-to-be sorted out their differences. Meanwhile, once she and István were less in the public eye, she’d insist on knowing what he was doing here. And how soon he was going. Perhaps she could help him on his way, she thought grimly, contemplating the toe of her shoe with malicious intent.
‘So, the fun begins,’ murmured István, swinging the key backwards and forwards.
‘With bells on!’ she agreed tightly, planning plans.
He picked up her case, and the piece of hand-luggage that she’d nursed throughout the journey, double-stacked them porter-style and imperiously grabbed Tanya’s hand. ‘Let’s go upstairs and ring a few of those bells, then,’ he smiled, hauling her across the vast expanse of black and white chequer-board tiles so fast that she had to cling on to him like mad or slip on the glassy surface.
‘Let me go, you brute!’ she cried, afraid. Afraid of falling. Afraid of the contact. Her skin prickled.
Her hair was coming down in thick chestnut hanks over her shoulders and she was in danger of ricking an ankle if she didn’t wrench free. On an impulse, she scooped up a delicate porcelain vase from a glossy fruitwood table and prepared to aim it at István’s head.
‘You want bells, now hear them ringing!’ she fumed.
‘Mistake,’ he murmured. Because she’d given him time to drop her luggage straight to the floor with not an atom of regard for their contents, grab