LITMIR.BIZ

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to dismiss István’s outrageous claim as pure, wicked fantasy and to contain her own chaotic feelings. István she could deal with later. This was infinitely more urgent, though at the moment she wasn’t sure whether she should break up the argument or let it blow itself out. Curse István! She scowled, hating to see her brother so upset.

      As for that dizzy sensation she’d felt…She was tired. Getting her father comfortably settled, cooking masses of meals for him and freezing them, watering the plants, worrying about leaving him and then worrying even more about Lisa’s love for John—all this had tired her emotionally and physically.

      Someone spoke to her. A young woman, dressed entirely in black and carrying a basket of freshly baked bread that smelled deliciously warm and doughy. Tanya registered hunger as she absently returned the woman’s greeting and it suddenly became clear that much of her confused thinking had also been due to her early start that morning without a proper breakfast.

      A wry smile touched her pale lips. Hunger pangs, mimicking sexual desire! And then her smile faded as she realised more fully what István had said. He’d casually disowned the mother who’d devoted her life to him. He deserved nothing but contempt for his behaviour. Her hands shaped into fists.

      ‘Not your brother.’ Ridiculous! Her mother would have told her if he’d been adopted…Wouldn’t she? At the very least, her father would have said something when István had vanished. Bitterness and resentment would have drawn such a fact out of her father, surely? Or he would have told her recently in one of those long, companionable heart-to-hearts.

      Crushing the rebellious nagging doubts that kept whispering slyly in her ear, she marshalled her thoughts together. At the moment, Lisa and John needed her. Making sure their wedding went ahead was the most important thing on the agenda and anything that was between herself and István could wait—must wait.

      ‘Here goes,’ she muttered, heading towards John and Lisa. Ignore István, she told herself. Think only of the wedding. But smiling was more difficult than she’d hoped.

      ‘Are you going to show me this hotel of yours or am I camping out here?’ she asked John jokingly in a rather stiff little voice that went with the rigid smile.

      ‘Sorry, I——’ began John.

      ‘You and István didn’t get on,’ sighed Lisa despondently, slumped rather inappropriately against a statue of Cupid. ‘I heard you arguing.’

      Tanya looked at her anxiously. Now István was gone, the light had left Lisa’s face. ‘Good grief! He and I will always be at daggers drawn!’ she said lightly. ‘That doesn’t matter a scrap. Pretend he’s not here. I’m dying to hear all the arrangements. Can you take my luggage, John?’

      Conscious of the need to reassure Lisa, to remind her friend that John was reliable and steady and loved her, she tucked her arm in Lisa’s, pushing her towards the hotel steps. John remained stony-faced as he stalked along beside them so she sought ways to break the deadlock between them and lift the funereal atmosphere.

      ‘It’s thrilling that you two are crazy about each other!’ she continued warmly. Was that overkill? she wondered. ‘All that gush in your letters, you old romantic! The lights on the Danube, the candlelit dinners…isn’t it just great that you’re marrying my kid bro?’

      ‘Great,’ said Lisa dutifully.

      Tanya hid a wail of despair. She’d sounded less than overjoyed. As if…as if her mind was elsewhere. ‘So, what’s the plan? I thought I’d go to my room and unpack first,’ she continued, managing to sound quite cheerful. Poor John, she thought miserably. He looked ashen. She must act, act, act! ‘Then I’ll do us all a favour and get rid of the wretched You-Know-Who. I thought an acid bath might do the trick, John!’ she joked.

      ‘I’ll empty a few car batteries,’ he muttered, his eyes dark with worry.

      Tanya tried to give a tinkle of laughter but it wasn’t too convincing. She knew instinctively that he and Lisa would argue again when they were alone. And somewhere in the hotel, with any luck, she’d be throwing crockery at the incorrigible István. Some family reunion, she thought morosely.

      ‘If I’m not camping under the stars, I suppose you’ve put me in some dark cellar!’ she said with painful brightness.

      ‘Got it in one. The best cellar we have, on the first floor. Lisa’s next door in the bridal-suite cellar,’ John jokingly answered, rallying himself with an effort and forcing a faint, brave smile.

      ‘Lovely,’ Tanya enthused, scanning the big windows above. A figure in white moved away quickly, as though the person didn’t want to be seen. Not István, someone smaller. Probably a curious maid, she thought dismissively.

      And, as they walked up the steps with John trying for her sake to be normal and talking about the range of facilities at the castle hotel, Tanya saw that Lisa’s eyes were searching for something or someone and she knew who it must be.

      István.

      She quailed. He still dominated their lives, even in his absence. It was quite plain that Lisa felt his magnetism far too strongly for a woman on the brink of marrying someone else. Poor John! mourned Tanya. He’d adored Lisa from the very first and had resented any time that Lisa had spent with István. John had tried desperately to drag himself out of his elder brother’s giant shadow—without success. Who could? Shadows were elusive, impossible to pin down. Impossible to hurt, too.

      ‘…here in the old hall,’ John was saying with quiet pride.

      Guiltily, she pulled herself together and looked around the high-ceilinged room, genuinely delighted to see that it looked like the interior of an exquisite eighteenth-century mansion, with none of the usual trappings of a hotel.

      ‘John!’ she cried warmly, admiring the mirrored walls. ‘I’m quite staggered! How clever of you to get a job here! It’s absolutely beautiful—especially the flower displays and romantic garlands. And look at this furniture! By golly,’ she added in awe, ‘it’s all antiques!’

      ‘Every stick,’ nodded John. ‘It was all inherited by the countess, my boss.’

      ‘I’m surprised this stuff wasn’t looted and transported back to Moscow during the Communist Occupation,’ mused Tanya.

      Her brother smiled absently. ‘Perhaps she hid it. She’s a very astute and nice lady. You’ll like her when we get together to talk about the riding school. She lives on the estate.’ His smile turned to a frown. Lisa was rather obviously searching for István. ‘I’ll get the key and sign you in,’ he ground out tightly, reining in his temper.

      Tanya waited till he’d reached an antique desk before she took the bull by the horns and rounded on her miserable-looking friend. ‘Lisa, I don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re hurting John!’ she whispered in exasperation. ‘Can’t you ignore István even for one moment?’

      ‘Can you?’ retorted Lisa.

      ‘No-yes!’ Tanya heaved an impatient sigh. ‘You’re confusing me,’ she muttered. ‘How long’s István been here?’

      ‘So you are interested in me,’ came his satin-smooth voice just behind her and suddenly there were two dozen Istváns in the hall with them, dark, menacing and devilishly handsome from every angle.

      ‘Only as a porter,’ said Tanya crisply, annoyed that Lisa had abandoned her and crept away to John’s side—and because her pulses had inexplicably leapt into life. The reason for that was so unthinkable that she dismissed it out of hand.

      ‘A porter? Doesn’t seem to be one around. Must be a coffee-break,’ said István, unperturbed by her put-down. ‘How cool you are. What control!’ he said in admiration. ‘Don’t you have one or two burning questions to ask me?’

      Millions, she thought—but not with John and Lisa around. Ignoring him then, she pretended to be surveying the lovely wedding swags and garlands that hung everywhere.

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