Tangled Destinies
Author
Sara Wood
Reads
19.0K
Chapters
8
Harlequin
HarlequinCHAPTER ONE
‘YOU’RE obsessed with István,’ said Mariann airily. ‘Of course he won’t be there! Him, go to a wedding?’
Tanya bent her chestnut head and moved pensively behind the queue that wound backwards and forwards like a slow-moving snake digesting a rat and István was brought even more intensely to mind. Snake, rat…
‘He might,’ she frowned. ‘He had a special…soft spot for Lisa.’ Her lips pressed together, holding back the information from her sister that it had been more serious than that: a fling of momentous passion with terrible consequences that had split her family apart.
‘He never had a soft spot anywhere,’ scoffed Mariann.
‘Heart and mind of stone,’ Tanya agreed and tried to make a joke of her fears. ‘Well, if he does turn up, I suppose I could rearrange that poker-face of his into something more human!’
‘You?’ laughed Mariann. ‘You wouldn’t hurt a fly!’
Tanya smiled thinly, the harder green of her hazel eyes deepening till their melting brown warmth had totally disappeared. No, she wouldn’t normally harm a living creature, but she’d make an exception for István and gladly squash him flat!
‘I refuse to think of him any more,’ she said decisively, and let a smile win through. ‘Not when there’s a fairy-tale wedding in the offing!’ She beamed. Her brother John, her best friend Lisa. What could be nicer? ‘Fancy them having the reception in a Hungarian castle! Nothing could be more romantic!’
‘Or expensive,’ said Mariann drily. ‘Unless he gets a discount because he works there. Well, since John’s so flush with money from his new job, he’d better pay back what he owes you.’ She gave her gentle sister a stern look. ‘You’re too quick to help us all.’
‘That’s what you do for family,’ smiled Tanya.
‘István is “family”. That means…you’d welcome him back if he appears?’ teased Mariann with a wicked grin.
‘No! He’s different,’ answered Tanya firmly. ‘He walked out on us—treated Mum like dirt. I can’t forgive him.’
Her sister’s eyes twinkled. ‘I wonder. He was your idol and you were his devoted slave once.’
‘I was a child, fooled by his daring. I didn’t know what he was really like,’ Tanya replied stiffly.
‘Did anyone? All those weeping maidens at our door only saw the brooding Heathcliff figure, galloping across the moors. None of them knew how difficult he was at home.’
‘Why are we talking about him again?’ complained Tanya.
‘You always do,’ answered Mariann gently.
She flushed. ‘Nonsense! He doesn’t exist as far as I’m concerned.’ But, she thought, it was sad that their family wasn’t complete. If only…
‘OK. Focus on the fairy-tale, hon. Give my love to baby brother John and his bride-to-be and start swigging the bubbly without me. You deserve some fun for a change.’
‘A week’s holiday!’ gloated Tanya. It seemed like an eternity. ‘After John’s wedding I’m going to spend it sitting in cafés eating pastries and——’
‘Simpering at handsome gypsy violinists!’
‘No, charming John’s boss,’ corrected Tanya. ‘I have to take a break from the violins and sticky buns and get that riding school business! But I mean to make the most of the trip and explore Hungary too. Oh…the queue’s moving again. Bye. See you at the castle later on.’
Mariann leaned over the barrier and kissed Tanya affectionately. Two sisters, so different in temperament, so similar in repose with their distinctive high Hungarian cheekbones and mass of dark chestnut hair.
‘Oh, boy, do these Hungarians know what’s coming? Wait till I’ve picked up Sue and they’ve got three Evans sisters to contend with!’ Mariann did a wiggle that caused a few male eyes to pop. ‘There’ll be you, tearing at their heartstrings with your dreamy looks——’
‘Hardly, with you and Sue around!’ laughed Tanya. ‘Just cast me as the Ugly Sister——’
Mariann’s squawk brought a score of eyes to rest on the blushing Tanya. ‘You? Take a good look in the mirror, hon, and see who’s “the fairest of them all”,’ she said fondly. ‘When Sue and I turn up, I expect some handsome Hungarian will have whisked you off on his white horse! Bye. Have a good trip!’
Tanya’s earlier sense of foreboding receded in the wake of her sister’s daunting cheerfulness. Sticking to her promise to herself, she firmly put aside her worries. István and Lisa’s old love-affair must be dead and buried, she reasoned, or Lisa wouldn’t have agreed to marry John. And so she turned her thoughts to the wedding, pushing back the nagging feeling that István might appear and ruin everyone’s happiness again.
When the plane approached the outskirts of Budapest it flew low over towering concrete apartment blocks-relics, perhaps, of the old Communist regime. Their forbidding exteriors made her think of István and how cold, ruthless and unbending he could be. Her brow furrowed. Mariann was right—she was obsessed with his memory.
Her hands became clammy. Maybe she was right to be apprehensive. After all, István had gone to Hungary when he’d vanished four years ago. He could have seen some announcement about the wedding. And he’d been forced to leave Lisa…
With her stomach churning, she walked gracefully through Customs, concealing only what was going on in her head: István; was he here? Two pink stains flushed her prominent, Slavonic cheekbones and her pace became brisker, almost as though the prospect of seeing him was filling her with a hot energy. People were lined up at the barrier, waving, crying, laughing…but not István.
‘Thank heavens!’ she muttered, then frowned at the swamping sense of loss that followed the realisation. No dark, cynical eyes on her. No hard, male mouth curled in brotherly contempt. No figure so compelling and yet completely self-contained that he made her feel nervous and awkward in comparison.
‘Tanya!’ came a familiar yell of delight.
‘John! John!’ she cried in relief. ‘Wonderful to see you!’ She embraced her fair-haired brother and her heartbeat returned to near-normal instead of galloping like a frightened colt.
‘Dear Tan! Welcome to Hungary! Have we got a party this afternoon!’ John enthused.
Tanya’s sweet smile brought a radiant sheen to her face. ‘A party! What fun!’
‘How’s Dad?’ asked John, taking charge of her luggage.
‘Much better in himself, though his arthritis is worse. He sends his love and his blessing,’ she answered softly.
‘Are you sure you can cope?’
‘Of course!’ she reassured him. Their father had been like a lost soul when their mother had died four years ago. It was as though the light had gone out of his life too and Tanya both envied and feared a love like that.
Taking early retirement on health grounds, he’d turned to her for comfort and companionship—perhaps, she was aware, as a substitute in some way for her mother. Tanya’s face grew tender. All her life she’d longed to make a stronger bond with her father and it was some comfort to her too, because her own grief was too much to bear. She needed someone to care for, a purpose in life beyond simply existing. Her mother’s death had occurred only three months after István had vanished and the double blow had numbed her completely.
At a family conference, she had quietly convinced her sisters that it made sense for them to continue their careers in London since she was able to work happily from home. It was she who’d persuaded John to follow Lisa to Budapest and given him financial help, explaining to her father that he’d be cruel to stand in his adored son’s way.
John gave her hand a squeeze. ‘I’ll give Dad a ring later. Skates on, Tan, no time to waste; it’s a fair drive…Something wrong?’ he asked, when she hesitated.
‘I—I half wondered——’ No István. She had expected him there. Something fluttered in her stomach. Disappointment, definitely. That was strange. ‘It’s daft, but I had this ghastly idea that István would pop up like Dracula from his grave and hover about, grinding his teeth!’ She giggled, seeing how silly that was.
John’s homely face went pale. ‘Let him try,’ he muttered grimly. ‘I’d take a sledge-hammer to his head and ram him back into the hole he crawled from! Bastard!’
‘John! He is our brother,’ she remonstrated gently, hurrying along beside him. John hated István. If he ever knew what István had actually done to Lisa, she dreaded to think what might happen.
‘Brother? I wonder,’ growled John. ‘It’s only because Dad’s a vicar and Mum was as decent as the day is long that I’ve never felt suspicious about his parentage.’
Tanya nodded soberly. She also had felt that István was different—as though he’d come from another background altogether. He bore absolutely no resemblance to anyone in their family. ‘Bit of a misfit, wasn’t he?’ she mused. More than a misfit: restless, insular, detached. And rather wild. She smiled ruefully, thinking what a tempting recipe that had been for the girls of Widecombe village!
‘Remember when they called him gippo at school?’ John said.
She winced at the reference to István’s dark, gypsy looks. More evidence, she’d once romantically imagined, that he must be a changeling! Nonsense, of course, given their parents, but he was so…so totally dissimilar in looks and character.
‘Oh, yes. I remember. They only tried that once!’ she reminded her brother wryly. ‘What an awful fight broke out! István in full attack was frightening to behold!’
‘He’s got a temper on him like a mad dog with gout.’ John grimaced. ‘Hell, why do we always discuss the bastard? What about you? How’s business?’
The extravagant bow of her mouth extended to form a rueful smile. ‘Rough,’ she admitted. ‘Everyone’s hanging on to whatever money they’ve got—and riding holidays in France don’t figure in their budgets. But I’m hopeful about this possible deal with the boss of your hotel. If I can get my prices low enough—and you say the cost of living is relatively cheap here—then I’m in with a fighting chance.’
‘You wouldn’t need to be struggling and I wouldn’t have had to borrow from you if István hadn’t bled Mother dry,’ grumbled John. He hurled her luggage in the boot of his hire car. ‘I don’t ever want to see him for the rest of my life. If he ever comes near Lisa, I swear I’ll kill him!’ He slid into the driver’s seat and settled her in. ‘I’m scared, hon,’ he muttered, staring blankly ahead.
She felt the chill of premonition spread down her spine. So was she. ‘Marriage isn’t that bad!’ she said, giving him a diversionary punch.
‘I mean I’m scared of István. You know how he and Lisa went around together.’ John cleared his throat, fighting for the words while his fingers drummed a tattoo on the steering-wheel and then stilled. ‘I’m afraid of comparisons…afraid that…that Lisa will——’
‘No!’ Tanya said forcibly, with a conviction she didn’t feel. ‘Don’t be a dimbo! Good grief, Lisa’s letters were filled with tedious descriptions,’ she cried, forcing a sisterly teasing, ‘of you two wandering the streets of Budapest and standing on the Chain Bridge holding hands in the moonlight. She loves you, John! Only a woman in love could write that stuff!’
But, thought Tanya, as the reassured John beamed and launched into an enthusiastic description of how happy he felt, how wonderful, how beautiful, how unique Lisa was, what would happen if Lisa did have the opportunity to match steady, stolid John against the devastatingly handsome, devil-may-care István?
Lisa had loved him once so deeply that she…
Tanya bit her lip while John rambled on. She was being crazy. Lisa and John had been engaged for nine months, long enough for any doubts to have crept in by now.
Beyond the Budapest ring road, the arrow-straight motorway took them through lush countryside and Tanya did her best to unwind and enjoy the glorious autumn colours. Eventually they left the motorway and travelled on country lanes. The sharp smell of woodsmoke focused her attention on a village they were now passing through where a stork’s nest graced the top of a telegraph pole, flower borders edged the wide street and the water pumps had been painted a bright sky-blue.
‘Kastély Huszár,’ said John proudly, naming the hotel where he worked as manager.
Ahead, instead of the castle with turrets she’d expected, she saw a grand, eighteenth-century mansion, its steep roof and small turrets set picturesquely against a backdrop of butter-yellow beech woods.
‘Wow! Impressive!’ she said admiringly, and leant forward as John drove through a pair of fancy wroughtiron gates. ‘Pretty classy! They trust you to manage this?’ she teased.
‘I was a bit amazed when I got the job,’ he grinned. ‘Oh, look, Tan, there’s Lisa——’
The car screeched to a stop as John’s foot slammed on the brakes. Tanya’s body jerked painfully against the seatbelt but she hardly noticed. Shock, hatred—she wasn’t sure which—had already slammed the breath from her lungs.
Beside the diminutive, blonde-headed Lisa on the stone stairway that swept to the drive, for all the world as if he were the lord of the manor, stood the unmistakable saturnine figure of their elder brother István. Tanya felt her muscles tighten and suddenly she had the extraordinary urge to jump out of the car and run as far as she could in the opposite direction.
But, ‘Drive on,’ she grated through her teeth. ‘Drive on!’
‘Oh, God! What’s he been doing with Lisa?’ John shakily put the car in gear and it shuddered forwards.
Dreading the answer to that question, she flicked an anxious glance at his cold, pale face. It mirrored her own fears but she wouldn’t help the situation if she let on how worried she was.
‘Finding out how deliriously happy she is about marrying you, I expect,’ she said firmly. ‘Nothing to worry about. Keep calm.’ Her aim was to convince herself as much as her younger brother. ‘He’s history. You and Lisa love one another. He can’t touch that.’ She prayed that were true. And quailed at the havoc István could wreak. Chaos followed in his tracks as sure as night followed day.
‘He’d better not! Do me a favour: keep him occupied while I talk to Lisa and see what’s going on,’ muttered John.
‘Me?’ Her mouth opened in dismay. She’d sworn never to speak to István again. She hated him. Yet John’s face was so stricken that she knew she had to agree. ‘OK,’ she said quietly. ‘Leave him to me.’
‘Look at her! I’ve never seen her so excited!’ hissed John.
‘Why shouldn’t she be? She is getting married to you tomorrow!’ Tanya said huskily. Her explanation sounded hollow. Lisa was dancing about, her eyes shining with…happiness? Exhilaration?
She pressed her icy fingers to the bridge of her nose where a headachy pulse was beginning to throb. István looked so contained, so impregnable as he waited motionless beside the gleefully bouncing Lisa that the prospect of spending any time with him at all was utterly daunting. But she’d do it for John, for the sake of his marriage and for the sake of her dear friend’s happiness.
Her legs trembled and she paused to steady herself before she left the car. She’d taken too long, however. The door was opened and István was hauling her out bodily as though she were still his kid sister, paying no attention to the fact that she was now a woman of twenty-four and perfectly capable of manoeuvring her aged body out of a car on her own.
‘Welcome,’ he murmured, hands of iron firmly under her armpits as he lifted her into the air till she hovered helplessly above his cynical dark face. ‘You’re quite a woman! he declared admiringly.
Seething at the insult to her dignity, she kept her expression blank and tried not to let his piercing black eyes unsettle her as he slowly, insolently, assessed the changes that the four years had brought to her appearance.
‘Please,’ she protested, slanting her eyes anxiously to where John and Lisa were greeting each other like wary acquaintances. She groaned and looked back to István. ‘Put me down!’ she said sharply.
Annoyingly, her shoe fell off her dangling foot and for a brief moment her eyes blazed with an unguarded fury at the way he’d deliberately put her at a disadvantage and rattled her composure. He had no right to handle her with such familiarity!
‘Temper’s still simmering away under the haughty exterior, I see,’ he observed in an infuriatingly sardonic drawl.
‘It’s not surprising!’ she grated. ‘Do you honestly imagine that you can cause pain to my entire family and be welcomed as though nothing had happened?’ She felt her anger threatening to escape from way down inside her and ruthlessly clamped irons on it. ‘For heaven’s sake, put me down!’ she ordered. ‘I’m not a Barbie doll—or one of your doe-eyed bimbos!’
He did so, slowly, his eyes challenging hers with an unnerving amusement as though he had some dreadful plan in store for her. She responded with an icy glare back, trying to balance on one rather shaky leg. And all the while she was uncomfortably aware that her heart was thudding crazily with a frightening excitement. It seemed, she thought hazily, that she actually relished the thought of tangling in a battle royal with her devilish brother. For a vicar’s daughter, that wasn’t seemly!
‘Allow me,’ he murmured, reaching out for her shoe and bending down to ease it on to her foot. ‘Hmm. You don’t get these in a charity shop,’ he said from a crouching position, capturing her foot and caressing the leather thoughtfully.
Oh, yes, you do! she thought in amusement. The suit, too. ‘An ‘impress John’s boss’ purchase. But her gravity seemed to be faulty and she was forced to place one nervous hand on his shoulder. Just as well she did. The realisation that its width was all him and not padding as she’d imagined seemed to disconcert her. There was a lot more of him, muscle-wise, than when he’d left—and he’d been pretty well-built even then. She wobbled. ‘So?’
He smiled faintly. ‘Since I know you’ve hardly two pennies to rub together——’
‘Who said?’ she interrupted, bristling.
‘Lisa.’ He smiled again, when she gritted her teeth to conceal her involuntary groan of dismay.
‘You’ve been chatting,’ she said flatly.
‘Among other things. She told me that you lent John the money to come over here and to keep himself for a few weeks while he looked for work. I gather it left you a bit short. I hope you haven’t got into debt.’
‘No.’ She had intended to leave it there but his lifted eyebrow suggested he was waiting for an explanation. So she gave him one. ‘A man was generous to me,’ she said, thinking of the elderly manager of the charity shop in Exeter who’d let her have a reduction on the outfit. And then she wondered why she wanted István to believe that men trailed after her as eagerly as women crawled after him. In actual fact she’d been too busy to do more than occasionally go out with old schoolfriends who still lived locally. No, not too busy…lacking in interest.
‘Serious affair, is it?’ he murmured.
It was serious that she, someone who longed to be a mother one day, had no interest in becoming anyone’s wife. ‘Very,’ she answered soberly. ‘Didn’t Lisa tell you?’
István’s thick black eyebrows drew together in disapproval as though news of her affair annoyed him, anger tugging down the corners of his mouth and tightening the strong lines of his jaw. ‘No, she didn’t. I must admit, I’m surprised any man’s got past the impressive defence works.’
Tempted initially to grab a fistful of his raven-silk hair, she glared down at the top of his head and felt a ridiculous urge to stroke it instead. Then, inexplicably, came a fear of touching him at all. He seemed much more male than before, and she frowned at the discovery.
‘The drawbridge does get let down on occasions,’ she said with a shrug.
His long black lashes fluttered then lifted to reveal his wicked, probing glance. His fingers rested briefly on the sheer stockings her father had bought for her and she quivered indignantly at his touch. ‘Extravagant…Do hope you stung him for some decent underwear too,’ István purred.
The blush stained her face before she could even think of stopping it. ‘What an extraordinary thing to say!’ she cried in surprise. ‘That’s hardly the kind of question my brother should be asking!’ she added in reproof.
‘I agree, he said with suspicious amiability. ‘You’re so right. Not brotherly at all, was it?’ He paused, contemplating her with a huge grin on his face. That secret again! she thought, intrigued. ‘Only underwear salesmen or lovers speak of silk knickers, stocking-tops and black lace bras in low, passionate voices.’ His eyes mocked her disapproving expression. ‘I know, I know,’ he murmured. ‘It’s very improper for any brother of yours to be concerned with what lies hidden beneath that blue linen barrier. Perhaps,’ he suggested in wide-eyed innocence, ‘I’m not your brother after all.’
‘Some hopes!’ she said bitterly. ‘I see the same arrogant bully, the same sardonic face, I hear the same cynical cruelty in your voice and I feel ashamed we have the same blood. You’re no different. Unfortunately.’
‘I think you’ll find I’ve changed,’ he said enigmatically.
‘Hope springs eternal. Now return my foot,’ she said icily, finding his touch on her leg highly disturbing. What was it that bothered her about him? she puzzled. ‘I came here to see Lisa, not to stand around like a stork.’
István studied her impassively for a moment, his fingers absently caressing her ankle, and she mused that he must have powerful thigh muscles to stay crouched in that position for so long. A small shiver curled through her, though she wasn’t cold.
‘You have nicer feet than a stork,’ he remarked idly. ‘Smoother, sexier——’
‘István!’ she protested.
He smiled and released her foot, slowly uncurling his body till he was towering over her again. ‘Takes you back, doesn’t it?’ he mused. ‘Me, unbuttoning your little Noddy slippers at bedtime, singing some nonsense rhyme——’
‘That’s quite enough!’ she husked, hastily interrupting his reminiscences.
She had no wish to remember. István had won their childhood adoration by singing throaty lullabies in a funny language they thought he’d made up. It had been Hungarian, of course. Why their mother should have taught him to speak her native tongue and him alone, she could never fathom. They were all half Hungarian, after all, but their mother had spoken of her background to no one but István. The rest of them she’d discouraged whenever they’d shown any interest in her homeland. Favouritism, she sighed to herself. It still rankled—and she still felt ashamed that it did.
She had an overwhelming sensation of being crowded by him, and moved back a step to lean against the car. Her eyes slanted to see if John was ready to take her inside. To her alarm, she saw that he and Lisa appeared to be arguing. Adding to her anxiety, István placed both his hands on the car either side of her and leaned forwards in what might have been a friendly intimacy but had the effect of seeming rather unnerving because she was effectively trapped.
‘I wanted to remind you of the good times,’ he said softly.
‘There weren’t many—and they were totally overwhelmed by the bad times,’ she muttered, shrinking back. ‘Why remind us of things we’d rather forget?’
‘I’m trying to prepare you,’ he said enigmatically.
‘For what?’ she asked with deep suspicion.
‘Changes,’ he said silkily. ‘Interested?’
She scowled. Fascinated! ‘In you?’ she fended.
‘I thought you might be,’ he said lazily. ‘From the moment you could toddle, you were jealous of the secrets I shared with Ester,’ he added, using their mother’s first name as he always had.
‘None of us liked you closeted with Mother for two hours every single day,’ she said coldly. ‘What were you doing exactly?’
‘Playing music, talking.’
So intently, she thought resentfully, that once when she’d fallen over and had wanted her mother’s arms around her she’d had to bang on the locked door for ages before her mother had finally heard her piteous cries. She’d always been second-best. István had come first, everyone else a long way behind. That had hurt.
‘Look, István,’ she said huskily, ‘You must have some idea of the furore you caused when you disappeared and what you did to our family. This is a happy occasion and we don’t want any gatecrashers——’
‘I was invited,’ he said surprisingly and moved back a little, giving Tanya air space at last. ‘Isn’t that right, Lisa?’ he called out. ‘Didn’t you invite me?’
Tanya flung an appalled glance at her apologetic, guilty-looking friend, who broke away from what looked alarmingly like a full-scale argument with John and ran over to hug her tightly. ‘Oh, Lisa,’ Tanya said, feeling emotional. ‘It’s wonderful to see you again, but…what on earth are you doing asking him here?’ she groaned.
‘Wait and see. Please keep István occupied as long as you can,’ whispered her friend. ‘I’m persuading John not to thump him!’ She beamed at István encouragingly and hurried back to placate the thunderous John.
Tanya reflectively ticked off three unnerving facts. Lisa glowed. István was trying to hide a self-satisfied smirk. And he was definitely concealing a secret that Lisa knew about. The omens weren’t good.
‘Whether you had an invitation or not, you should have stayed away,’ she muttered, her face pinched with anxiety as Lisa drew John further and further away, out of earshot. The prospect of a long bath and a cup of tea was receding rapidly—but she’d put up with discomfort while John’s happiness was at risk. ‘It’s hypocritical of you to come. What do you care about weddings?’
‘I’ve developed a sudden craving for them,’ drawled István.
‘You liar!’ she retorted. ‘Father was right. You just enjoy making trouble, seeing people squirm——’
‘No, Tanya,’ he growled, a hard glitter in his eyes. ‘When he said that, he was being unreasonable. He wasn’t entirely rational where I was concerned.’
Tanya took a deep, steadying breath. ‘Rational? What was rational about Mother’s determination to give you everything and the rest of us nothing? What do you think it did to him, when you got brand new riding boots and we were all hunting for clothes in jumble sales?’
The dangerous glint she’d seen in István’s black eyes was extinguished as his lashes swept down to conceal whatever he was thinking. ‘It was…difficult, I appreciate that——’
‘Not difficult. Impossible!’ she bit. He didn’t understand. She’d have to be more specific. ‘Maybe you were the first child, the first-born son; maybe there is some archaic Hungarian custom that obliged Mother to empty the contents of her whole purse into your piggy bank, but by golly we got resentful, and no wonder!’ she said bitterly.
‘My education must have cost a great deal,’ he agreed quietly, his eyes on her like a watchful hawk.
‘Vast sums,’ she said unhappily. ‘Lavished exclusively on you. No wonder we were poor. Mother even quarrelled with Father about the way she spent her money!’
‘I know. I heard them. Did you ever wonder where Ester got so much money from?’ he enquired idly.
‘She brought it with her when she escaped from Communist Hungary as a young woman,’ she snapped.
‘And worked as a daily help in the vicarage. It’s a strange thing to do, when you have such savings, isn’t it?’ he murmured.
Tanya frowned. She’d never thought of that before. ‘She—she always liked to be busy——’
‘Another thing. She never spent the money on herself at all. The only person she gave it to was me. Odder still, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Unfair! What are you trying to tell me?’ she asked warily, unsettled by the inconsistencies of her mother’s behaviour.
‘To think beyond your resentment. A sense of injustice has robbed you of your brains. Was the money so important to you?’ he probed.
‘No! The injustice, like you said!’ she muttered. ‘And the fact that Mother was besotted with you to the exclusion of the rest of us.’
‘Besotted?’ His eyebrow arched in disagreement. ‘Did she hug me? Kiss me as much as she kissed you and John and your sisters?’
She frowned at the detached way he’d spoken about them all, as if he was talking about someone else’s family. In a way that was true. Her father had disowned him. ‘Of course she…’ Her voice lost its initial confidence and her frown deepened as she struggled in vain to recall any moment of affection between her mother and István. ‘No,’ she said slowly. ‘No, she didn’t! In fact…I can hardly remember her cuddling you at all!’ Her amazement apparently pleased him. Something made her think that he was coaxing her towards some extraordinary conclusion.
‘Curiouser and curiouser!’ murmured István.
‘Not particularly,’ Tanya retorted quickly, loyal in defending her mother’s behaviour. It had been strange, though. What their mother had felt for István was an unusual kind of love. Nearer to a slavish devotion. ‘No hugs,’ she mused, after a moment. And felt sorry for him.
‘Why do you think that was?’ he queried.
Her huge eyes lifted to his, catching a glimpse of the raw emotion he was obviously feeling. No hugs. Her understanding of his character deepened. ‘I don’t know, it’s inexplicable. Mother was a warm and loving woman to the rest of us. I can’t…’ She wrestled with the discovery. ‘Perhaps you weren’t the cuddly sort,’ she suggested feebly.
‘Not everyone was of that opinion,’ he said softly. His eyes were fixed intently on her, but almost immediately they swivelled to where Lisa stood pleading with John.
Tanya froze. The implication was all too plain. Lisa had once found him eminently huggable. ‘I hope you’re not here to make trouble,’ she breathed, alarmed to see a slow, sensual smile of wicked promise curve his lips. ‘Are you?’ she demanded.
‘All I’ve done is to turn up for a family wedding,’ he said with disarming innocence.
‘You can cause trouble even when you’re not around!’ she complained.
His dark gaze swept back to fasten on her accusing eyes. ‘Meaning?’
‘Like when you never turned up for meals, or never came home at night,’ she said in a low tone. ‘Don’t you know how upset Mother was? We stayed up all hours, waiting for you——’
‘So you were worried!’ he husked.
Drat him, how did he work that one out? Her tone, probably, she thought morosely. She’d betrayed the anxiety she’d felt. The last thing she wanted was for István to know she’d idolised him!
Happiness had once been doing anything that her elder brother did. Like a fool, she’d trailed all over the moors, fifty careful yards behind him, the victim of her own hero-worship. She’d fished the same river, had ridden to the same rocky crag. But then her riding lessons had been cancelled, she remembered with a sigh. Hell hath no fury like a thirteen-year-old girl denied her pony!
Worse, he’d stopped tolerating her quiet adoration and had begun to snap and snarl at her as though she irritated him. The early, childhood days of affection changed almost overnight to a bad-tempered rejection. Her own brother didn’t want to be bothered with her any more and pride had made her pretend she didn’t care.
‘Me? Worried about you? Good grief,’ she said lightly, ‘I’m well aware that the Devil looks after his own. I stayed up to keep Mother company,’ she added, skirting around the truth.
She knew only too painfully what her mother must have been feeling when István failed to turn up. A deep, searing anxiety that was as intense as a physical pain. He could have been lying somewhere in a ditch after falling off his motorbike. Concussed from being thrown by his horse. Drowned in the river. Even now it angered her to think of the needless hours of worry.
‘All those times when you rolled in without an explanation or an apology,’ she continued, ‘I could never fathom why Mother put up with your thoughtlessness, why she always welcomed you back with open arms and a mug of cocoa and digestive biscuits!’ she finished crossly.
‘Well, she understood me better than the rest of you,’ he said with a slight shrug of his big shoulders. ‘She knew what I was doing and that I could take care of myself. And that there were times when I had to get out and roam the moors or drive till I was exhausted. I can’t stand being fenced in. Don’t you know that by now? I need a free rein——’
‘Freedom!’ She fought back the angry tears, struggled to crush the hurtful memories and lashed out blindly. ‘How can you say you were fenced in? You had all the freedom you wanted! You were spoilt rotten!’ she seethed. ‘And you gave nothing back but heartache!’ Flinging a hasty glance in John’s direction, she saw he was well out of earshot and recklessly let her tongue take her further. ‘You seduced Lisa!’ she hissed. ‘You put her life in danger. You——’
‘Yes? Go on,’ he goaded, his eyes glittering. ‘Say it.’
Her teeth ground together, preventing the hot spurt of angry words. If she spoke of the time Lisa lost István’s baby, she knew she’d howl her eyes out because she was on the brink of losing control of her emotions. He’d been twenty-four and should have known better. Lisa, nineteen, almost three months pregnant. Tanya’s body trembled.
‘You never showed an ounce of family feeling!’ she grated, chickening out of the direct accusation. ‘That’s why I fail to see why you’ve come here at this time. You’re not here to celebrate the wedding, are you? You and John have always loathed each other.’ That left Lisa as the reason, she thought in dismay. Her voice rose half an octave. ‘What…what did make you turn up here?’
‘I decided I had to make a play for what I wanted,’ he said softly.
Her heart thudded. ‘That’s what I was afraid of!’ she said jerkily. ‘István——’
‘Pleading will do no good. My mind is made up.’ He looked at her steadily. ‘I refuse to be rushed by you, or anyone. I’m very much my own man, Tanya. I’m calling the shots and in time all will be revealed,’ he drawled, and turned to go.
‘Running away again?’ she taunted, half out of her mind with despair at his intentions. He froze and she knew she’d actually reached a vulnerable part of that apparently impenetrable skin. It gave her no pleasure, however. Somehow he always turned her into a shrew—and that was awful. She hated herself for complaining and whinging, for letting her raw emotions bubble to the surface, for being bitchy. He made her feel less good about herself. That was why she hated to be near him.
Slowly he turned and walked towards her again. ‘I didn’t run,’ he interrupted, a thinly disguised anger underlying the soft tones. ‘I left of my own choice. Why don’t you say it, Tanya? Say what you must and get it out of your system.’
She took a deep breath, the pain swelling to the surface while she struggled with the souring hurt that had destroyed her happiness. ‘All right. You claim that you left?’ she echoed bitterly, blurting it all out in a spurt of spitting flame. ‘Call it what you like, blame who you like; you went without warning, without leaving any address—and—and—you—drove Mother into her grave and—and for that I’ll never, ever forgive you!’
He remained motionless. Her heart rolled over in sickening lurches because she’d voiced the words that had become engraved on her heart and because she had finally faced him with one truth after all the years of nursing its canker inside her.
István’s eyes flashed dangerously. ‘How could I kill her?’ he growled. ‘I was in Budapest at the time.’
‘But she didn’t know that! You were special to her and you’d vanished without trace. She went into a decline. Soon after, she died. Isn’t the connection obvious?’ she asked huskily.
Waves of remembered distress made the muscles in her stomach clench as if a ruthless hand gripped her there. A sob lurched from her tremulous lips. Her pained eyes lifted to his and saw…pity.
‘Tan,’ he began, tight with strain.
‘No! Don’t look at me like that! I don’t want it! It’s too late to show sympathy!’ she cried hoarsely. ‘What do you care that Mother was beside herself because you’d vanished?’
‘What did I care?’ he roared. And suddenly, his eyes burning with an intense light, he grabbed her arms in an explosion of movement, his teeth bared in a furious snarl as he shook her violently. ‘What the hell do you know about me?’ he seethed.
Nothing, that was the pity of it all, she thought in silent answer before her brain stopped functioning. Pain erupted in her head, her bruised arms, her neck where it snapped back and forth. ‘István, István!’ she gasped above the roaring in her ears.
Mercifully he came to his senses and held her steady. Her shocked, accusing eyes lifted and widened at the pallor and the gauntness of his face. ‘Twenty-seven years…’ he muttered through bloodless lips. ‘And of all the women I have to vent my frustration on I choose you.’
So he wanted to hurt her. Hearing him, the once-adored elder brother, coldly admitting that he was targeting her was unbearable. Her resolve to be remote and unemotional collapsed under the weight of her own terrible emptiness.
To her total dismay, hot tears overflowed from her stricken eyes and emptied in scalding torrents down her cheeks. With a harsh exclamation, he growled some words in Hungarian then bewildered her by gathering her in his arms and holding her tightly in a bear-hug. The embrace was so welcome, so comfortable and so achingly familiar that she sobbed even harder.
‘I know how much you loved Ester. You did your best to love us all,’ he stated in a harsh mutter. Her shoulders shook and he stroked them. ‘You’re so like her. Strong sense of duty. Loyal. Dogged in your determination and totally blind to anything but what you have to do, like a blinkered horse.’
He was absently stroking the chestnut river of her hair and speaking to her in the same kind of voice he’d once used when she was small and needed comfort in those far-off and innocent days before he’d taken an inexplicable dislike to her. Longing for that time again and disturbed by his gentleness, she buried her face deeper into his warm chest.
Shame filled her. It was a shame brought on by the realisation that the death of her beloved mother had been as traumatic an event as István’s disappearance. That shouldn’t be. He didn’t deserve her regrets. Missing her mother dreadfully, she’d missed István just as much. Two people she’d loved profoundly had gone from her life with a shattering finality.
‘Hush, Tan. I’m here.’
Desperately she tried not to cry. When her mother had died, she hadn’t shed one tear. Her sisters had been inconsolable and she’d cuddled them in her arms till they’d fallen asleep but she’d remained cold, her feelings frozen.
Her hands curled against István’s chest. Safely in her wallet were pictures of him and her mother which comforted her somehow to know that they were there. She could touch the wallet and project her passionate hatred of him to wherever he was in the world. And now he was here and she was in his arms and feeling as if she’d come home. It was all wrong!
István’s strong hand lifted her chin and he stared deeply into her eyes while gently wiping her face with his handkerchief. ‘I’m glad you’ve cried,’ he said huskily. ‘I heard you’d never shed a tear.’ His hand faltered. There was a softening of his mouth that disturbed her, a light in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. ‘You’re more ethereal than ever. I’ve never seen you look more beautiful, Tanya,’ he breathed, a frightening hunger in his voice.
Her throat dried. Beneath the pale suit, her breasts rose and fell with the shallow breath that sought in vain to oxygenate her depleted body. He had an animal magnetism, an intense sexuality that even she, his sister, could feel. Lisa would be a pushover to that unholy, electrical force emanating from him. With barely a thought for the consequences, he switched it on and flooded anyone in his path in a dazzling display of male power.
The blood began to drum in her veins. She couldn’t have moved if her life had depended on it. He held her gaze with the sheer force of his personality and all she could do was to stare at the incredibly sexy mouth and wonder…
Oh, dear heaven! she thought in horror. What is it about István?
And he told her.
‘I feel it too,’ he growled softly.
‘Feel…what?’ she croaked in a revealingly high-pitched voice.
István breathed heavily a few times before elaborating, his wicked black eyes relentless. ‘Desire.’
‘What are you saying…? No!’ she whispered in horror, her mouth only just managing to shape the denial as he moved forwards to close the gap between them. ‘No, István!’
But her speech was slurred and he smiled in triumph. ‘Poor Tanya,’ he said soothingly, his warm breath torching across her face. ‘I think I’d better put you out of your misery.’
Her skin prickled with tension. ‘You’re depraved! Heaven help you, István!’ she rasped, her voice shaking with raw emotion. ‘Your mind is twisted. I wish we weren’t related! If only there were no ties between us—and never had been! I wish—oh, dear God, I wish you’d never been born and that you weren’t my brother!’
‘That last wish is granted,’ he said silkily, dropping a light kiss on her parched lips. ‘I’m not.’
‘What?’ she croaked, bewildered. And all the time she was thinking, No, no! No, it can’t be true…
‘I’m not your brother.’ There was something terrible in the depths of his eyes but his tone was light-hearted. ‘Opens up all sorts of possibilities, doesn’t it?’