Suddenly, he moved away. Where there had been warmth only a moment before, there was now cold. She gasped and had to steady herself against the counter, her entire body pulsing with energy, her heart galloping inside her chest, her legs melting under her.
“What’s next?” He stood next to her, close, but again not touching.
“What?” She wouldn’t dare look at him, not wanting to expose herself, her thoughts so loud he would read them in her eyes.
He laid his hands palm down on the counter, leaned forward, and tilted his head toward her. “What do you want me to do next?”
She felt his silent call and couldn’t find the strength to fight him. She had tried, but it was futile to deny the attraction she felt for him. The moment her eyes met his, Ravenna was lost in them and decided she must have him. She inched closer.
“Do you want me to cut more vegetables?”
She blinked.
He smiled. “More onions? What else can I do? I’m so hungry.”
Ravenna had no name for the array of emotions fighting for supremacy in her mind. She struggled to regain a composure she didn’t feel as her body still thrummed with want. She couldn’t believe she had misread him and almost threw herself at him. If he hadn’t spoken the moment he had, she would have disgraced herself by trying to kiss him. She could barely move without touching him, but managed to reach over him and retrieve a glass. She filled it with cold water at the sink, then drank and took the moment she needed before answering his question.
“Next, we put all the ingredients together, I add the lemon juice, let it cook a minute, then I finally add the yogurt. The original recipe asks for heavy cream as well, but I normally skip it.”
“I think we should try the recipe as it was intended.” He moved to the left, opened her fridge, and rummaged inside. “Don’t you have whipping cream?”
Every time he moved away from her, she felt his absence immediately. “Third shelf on the right.” She also would have ripped anyone else’s head off for taking charge of her cooking, but she let him pour the cream over the chicken without so much as a complaint. They finished cooking the dish, and little by little she was able to summon her old self back, and even enjoy conversation with him.
Later, after having eaten two full plates each, they sat at the table sipping a red he had found in her pantry. She didn’t remember when she had bought that bottle, but it turned out to be excellent wine.
“May I ask you something?” He was playing with the cork, tapping it against the glass surface of the table.
She felt her heart skip a beat and her thoughts ran toward places they weren’t supposed to. “You may ask, but I might not answer.”
His expression, playful only a moment before became suddenly serious. “What happened exactly between you and Malina?”
Of all the possible topics of conversation, he had chosen Malina. The mere mention of her name had thrown her back to a place where only despair, sadness, and shame resided. And yet, she found herself wanting to talk, to let her anger out. “I was betrothed to a merchant. His name was Livio Treccani. I was seventeen and I thought he was the most handsome man in Florence. I loved him as only a seventeen-year-old can love. He was a decade older than me and had a reputation of being quite the ladies’ man. It made my betrothal all the more appealing to me. I thought my beauty had bewitched him and that he would be forever mine.” She blinked and a flood of memories rushed through her.
Ravenna was in her bedroom, waiting for Malina to arrive, arranging her white pipe-clay dolls in rows over the cassone, the carved wooden chest containing her dowry. Her mother had told her the day she moved in with her husband would be the day she had to say good-bye to her toys. She wished she had a younger sister to whom she could pass on her prized collection. She had asked Malina if she wanted them, but her friend had never been one for dolls. Maybe soon a daughter would come and they could play together with those dolls she had made pretty clothes for. Maybe her husband would let her keep whatever she wanted. He adored her and called her pet names, whispering love words to her every time he came to visit. She swirled around until her head spun, then, spirit high and heart beating fast in her chest, she walked to the window to breathe in the fresh air. Eleven days until her wedding.
She heard steps from the hallway and strode to the other end of the room to let Malina in. She couldn’t wait to tell her Livio had kissed her. Her face blushed at the memory. The door was swung open and her mother entered, followed by three of her maids and a boy holding a cumbersome, light-brown package in his hands. The maids giggled and smiled at her.
“Your bridal gown is ready.” Mother clapped her hands together as she instructed the boy to leave the package on Ravenna’s bed. “Off you go.” Once the boy had cleared the room, she turned to her maids. “Help her with doffing her clothes.”
The women swarmed to Ravenna’s side, and she resigned to the onslaught of questions she knew they would ask.
“Aren’t you excited?” One of them said the words while they removed Ravenna’s clothes, one layer at a time.
She stood before them only wearing the simple linen chemise she kept on even when she was bathed. Soon she would have to wear a breast band—her mother had explained to her that her body would change after conceiving a child—but she wasn’t looking forward to becoming softer and rounder as her friends who had married had and bore children. Malina had told her once she would never let a man touch her if it meant becoming as ugly and old-looking as the other girls. But she must have changed her mind since then because she had just recently gushed about a boy she liked.
Ravenna’s hand went to her lower lip. Livio’s mouth had claimed hers in the sweetest of kisses, while his hands had trailed down her body and brought her closer to him. A scullery maid passing by had interrupted them.
“Soon, you’ll be mine.” He had leaned for another peck, then left her in the alcove where he had dragged her.
Layers of silk and brocades cascaded down her head, then strings were pulled, and her mother cried in joy.
“You’ll be the prettiest bride in all of Florence. Poets will celebrate your beauty for years to come.” Mother fanned her tears away. “I’m so proud of you, my beautiful daughter.” She looked around, then saw the small handheld mirror Ravenna kept on the vanity table by the window. “Here, take a look at yourself.” She handed the mirror to Ravenna. “You’ll be so happy.”
She held it at an angle so part of her bridal gown would be visible. She couldn’t see how the whole ensemble looked on her thin frame, but the array of different fabrics was richer than she had ever seen on a dress. The outer layer was light-blue and decorated with cream laces and fine embroidery. She knew that embroidering the sleeves alone had taken two months. Her mother and her future mother-in-law had decided all the details, but when asked if she wished for anything in particular to wear on her wedding day, she had promptly asked for pearls.
She wished Malina were there already. She had so many things to tell her; she was bursting at the seams with excitement. A knock on the door made her turn and run toward it, her long wedding dress bunched up to the side, and her mother and her maids tried to stop her from ruining the trail. “Malina, look—”
One of their servants bowed to her. “Milady, a servant girl just brought this letter for you.” He had a folded piece of paper in his hands.
Ravenna accepted the letter, looking over the man’s shoulder to see if her friend was rounding the corner as she had imagined. “Thank you.” She closed the door behind her.
“What is it?” Her mother looked at the mail with curiosity. “From whom might it be?”
Ravenna looked at the light paper in her hand and shrugged. Then the idea that Livio could have sent her a love letter made her clutch it to her breasts. “It’s for me.” She laughed and hurried to place the letter under her pillows so she could open it later without prying eyes around.
“My sweet baby is not even out of the house and she’s already
hiding things from me.” Her mother brought a hand over her heart, and placed the other on her forehead, palms up, and fake sobbed.
Ravenna would miss Mother’s antics. She was the funny one in the family, whereas her father was always proper. “It’s getting hot in here.” She waved both hands in front of her to convey the urgency of her statement.
Her mother looked horrified and turned to her maids, while pointing her finger at Ravenna. “Hurry. Remove the dress at once or she’ll sweat all over it.”
Half an hour later, Ravenna was alone in her bedroom. She plopped on her oak poster bed and reached under the pillow to retrieve her letter. She carefully opened the folded paper, then scanned its content and blushed a deep red.
“My lips are burning for yours.” The text was scribbled in hurried but precise calligraphy. She had never seen Livio’s handwriting, but she imagined it would look both hurried and precise. He looked like that kind of man to her. It was signed, “Yours, LT.” She sighed and pressed the piece of paper to her mouth, then lowered it to her heart.
When soft steps resonated outside, darkness had already obscured the room for quite some time. Ravenna jumped on her bed, eagerly anticipating Malina’s arrival. Although it was too late for her friend to be out, it wasn’t unusual for her to visit with a chaperone. Maybe Messer Rotari had accompanied her and was now visiting with her father. Their parents were friends and had conducted several trades together.
Whoever was outside, though, it wasn’t Malina. She would have barreled through after knocking and announcing herself out loud. Despite a sudden shiver, Ravenna put her mind at ease reasoning one of the maids was making her rounds, restocking the fires. Someone stopped at her door long enough to slide a piece of paper under it.
“Who’s there?” She had left the bed and reached the door in haste, but the dark hallway was already empty. She looked right and left, then leaned to pick up the paper from the marble floor so cold under her bare feet. She unfolded the paper with trepidation, expecting words from Livio, but at first glance she saw the calligraphy was different from his.
“Hurry to the Treccani’s stables. Your friend Malina is there.” She read the words twice trying to find a hidden meaning, anything that would explain what she was reading. She let the paper fall as the shivering started anew. Malina was at Livio’s house. Why?
Her heart beating fast against her ribcage, she was halfway through the hallway when she realized she was still barefoot. She went back, threw on her slippers, then flew downstairs, almost slipping and falling on the smooth marble steps of the staircase more than once. Flickering candles created pools of light in the long corridor as she passed through the whole length of the first floor without seeing anything.
“Ravenna?” Stepping out from one of the rooms she had just passed, Father called her back.
She didn’t stop. Head low, lungs burning, she kept running toward the huge wooden door that would lead her outside.
“Ravenna, where are you going?” Her mother appeared before her, her maids materializing behind her soon after.
“Mother.” She stopped just in time not to hit her.
Her father’s steps echoed behind her. “What is happening here?”
Shaking, she turned to her father. “I must go out.”
“Of course not.” Her father looked over her at her mother. “Take her to her bedroom. I have merchants over and we’re discussing business.”
Her mother took her by her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “What is it, corvine?”
Mother hadn’t used Ravenna’s pet name in a long time. That small detail reached inside of her and she felt like crying without even knowing the reason why.
“Something’s wrong.”
****
“What happened next?” Alexander asked, hand swirling the glass of red with controlled movements of his wrist.
Ravenna stared at him for a moment before blinking back to the present. Her stomach hurt, but she plastered a smile on her face. “After I showed my mother the letters, she gave me permission to go, but not alone. She and her maids accompanied me to my soon-to-be husband’s stables, where we found my dearest friend Malina in his arms, completely naked.” She raised her glass and topped it. “The wedding was called off that same night.”
Chapter Seven
Alexander saw the moment the small girl full of romantic ideas about love vanished, and the practical woman returned. “I’m sorry.”
He moved his empty plate out of the way and reached his hand toward hers on the table and took it in his. At his touch, Ravenna locked eyes with him, her black pupils liquid with unshed tears. Her fake smile dimmed and he saw through her again, sensing the hurt and the shame she had experienced as if they were his own. He got up from his chair and rounded the table to stand beside her. Without saying another word, he pulled her up and embraced her. His hands roamed up and down her back, caressing her, soothing her. He kissed the crown of her head and rocked her. She let him. Earlier, he had teased her because he needed to teach her she could burn with desire and act upon it by, for once, letting someone else, him, take care of her. But he had been burnt as well, caught in his game as much as she had been. His body had ached the whole time with unsatisfied need. The intensity of his longing to feel her, the whole of her, had grown steadily. Now, his core was a supernova. He would implode if he didn’t take her. This first time, the table would do.
His cell phone rang from his jeans rear pocket as he was about to put his thoughts into action.
“Are you going to answer that?” She pressed on his arm.
He groaned out loud, then reached for his cell to silence it, but it had stopped ringing. “It wasn’t important.” He gently pushed her toward the edge of the table, but another cell phone started ringing. “Ignore it.” He raised her chin with a finger and lowered his mouth to hers. One arm looped around her back, the other behind her head, he slowly took the two of them down, mindfully avoiding the dishes and glasses. He released a breath of relief when the cell phone stopped ringing and he felt Ravenna relax in his arms. His hand went to the hem of her skirt and raised it to uncover her lacy garters. He passed his fingers under a garter and snapped the hose free from its hooks, trying to slow down when he would have ripped her clothes.
The land line rang next. And his cell phone. He swore.
“Alexander?” Ravenna’s hair fanned all over the table and was tussled, her mouth red and moist, her eyes wide. She blinked. “It might be important.”
“It better be.” He raised himself from her soft body, regretting it immediately. With one hand he helped her up as he fished for his cell phone with the other. He saw the caller’s name and swore again, knowing the moment was ruined. “What do you want, Samuel?”
The land line was now silent, but Ravenna’s mobile was buzzing anew. He didn’t want her to move away from him and gently squeezed her hand.
“You must drive to Santa Severa Castle.” Samuel sounded as if he were running.
The second cell phone rang louder and louder. Ravenna looked around, then her eyes followed the sound to the entry. “Just a moment,” she mouthed and he reluctantly let her go.
“Why?” He watched as she walked to the narrow table in the hallway, and grabbed her purse from which she took her cell phone.
“There was a third death, a man. I must go.” Samuel hung up.
Alexander felt the urge to throw his phone out the window, but knew it was futile. With a loud sigh, he walked to the entry, car keys in hand, as Ravenna swiped her screen and answered her call.
“Malina?” She frowned while she listened to the were-panther. The conversation lasted slightly longer than his had. A moment later, Ravenna raised her eyes to him and nodded. “I’ll tell him. We’ll be there shortly.” She hung up and put it back inside her purse. “We must leave at once.”
His immediate reaction to her words was to push her against the wall and take her mouth for a deep kiss. Without talking, without warning. For a moment, he
considered quickly finishing right then and there what he had started on the kitchen table. Fantasies and reality collided when she moaned low, the sound reverberating inside of him through their united mouths, and he parted her legs with his knees. His hand shot to her skirt, feverishly bunching it up as he searched for her panties. He was about to lower them when he felt her shivering.
“Alexander…” Her voice was hoarse, her eyes the darkest of black, her body ready for him.
She would be his there against the wall if he so wanted. But Ravenna deserved better. He pressed a tender kiss upon her lips, then lowered his forehead to hers. “We should go.” He gave her one last peck, and stepped away from her.
“I—” She looked at him with hurt in her eyes.
“Let’s go.” Alexander extended his hand for her to take, but, after a moment of hesitation, she steeled her features back to her enforcer mask and walked to the drop-leaf table by the door.
She grabbed two sets of keys from an oval bowl, removed her flats, slipped on her heels, then opened the door and kept it open for him. As he walked past her, she said, “The third death is from the same circle of the other two victims.” Her voice was cold and still, professional. She moved at ease, her usual composure back, none of the turmoil he had seen in her flushed skin left.
He exited her house and stood on the landing, waiting for her to lock the door. “Ravenna—” He reached for her, but she moved out of the way before he could touch her.
“I don’t know the name of the victim, but Malina told me that one of the castle’s caretakers was cleaning a section closed to the public and found him.” She hurried down the steps, her heels clicking on the granite, her long, black hair trailing down her back like a cape. Once she reached the sidewalk, instead of turning right toward his car, she went straight, crossing the road and looked at him from over her shoulder. “I’ll get my car.”
He didn’t even try to change her mind, but raised his hands in defeat. “I’ll follow you.” He watched as she directed her key fob toward a car parked under one of the big eucalyptus trees lining that side of the road. The car’s light turned on and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of a black Audi R8. If he could envision her as a car, the R8 in black would be his choice.
The Immortal Greek Page 11