But most important, as far as she was concerned, he was in favour of her project.
‘I’ll be happy for you to include the dinner service in your book,’ he had told her as the three of them sat drinking brandy from crystal balloons—for Sofia had already disappeared off to her rooms and Carrie and Leone and the Duke had retired to a small ante-room away from the other guests.
‘Naturally,’ he had continued, ‘I shall require you to be accompanied at all times while you’re taking photographs or examining the pieces. And I shall also need to vet both photographs and text before any of it is actually published.’ He had smiled at her. ‘Are you agreeable to these conditions?’
‘Oh, perfectly.’ They were no more than Carrie would have expected. ‘And thank you,’ she had added. ‘I’m really grateful for this opportunity. And I promise you won’t be disappointed with the treatment the service receives.’
The Duke had nodded and smiled knowingly. ‘No, I’m sure I won’t. You see, I’ve already taken the trouble to acquaint myself with your previous work—on which I must congratulate you. I found it most impressive. I can see that the collection will be in highly professional hands.’
After the meeting was over, Leone had suggested to Carrie that the two of them take a walk in the palace gardens. And that was where they were now, meandering hand in hand between moon-dappled flowerbeds and topiaried hedges, chatting and drinking in the cool night air, skirting the huge lawn where a pair of peacocks strolled.
‘Well, you made a good impression there.’ Leone lifted her hand and kissed it. ‘I think my brother was extremely impressed with you.’ He looked into her eyes and smiled. ‘Though not half as impressed as me, of course.’
Carrie had to suppress a shiver at the touch of his lips against her fingers. He was making all the little hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
She smiled back at him and pulled a face. ‘If he was impressed, it was thanks to you. You seem to have done a pretty thorough PR job on me.’
For it had been perfectly clear that the Duke had come to the meeting already virtually convinced that he would give her the go-ahead. As he had said himself, he valued Leone’s opinion and Leone had had nothing but unconditional praise for her—for her personal integrity and for her professionalism.
She laughed. ‘All I had to do was try and live up to what you’d told him.’
‘I’d only told him the truth. But don’t kid yourself,’ Leone added. ‘If my brother hadn’t been impressed with you he would never have given the go-ahead. In the end, Damiano always makes up his mind for himself.’
Yes, that would be true. But all the same Carrie felt grateful for the way Leone had prepared the way for her. Though it was a mixed kind of gratitude. He was undermining her resistance. Over the past hour or so—first with his brother, then here in the garden—there had been an easiness between them, as though they had never fallen out, as though there had never been an angry word between them. And she still wasn’t sure if that was what ought to be happening.
But she tried to keep her mind off that, at least for the moment. She said, ‘I liked your brother. I thought he was pretty impressive too.’
‘He is pretty impressive. And he does a great job.’ Leone was leading them towards one of the marble fountains whose splashing water sparkled like liquid pearls in the moonlight. He shook his head. ‘But I wouldn’t be in his shoes for anything.’
There was a stone bench in front of the fountain. As they sat down on it together, Carrie turned round to glance at him curiously. ‘Why do you say that?’ she wanted to know.
‘My brother’s life, from dawn to dusk, is consumed with affairs of state. It’s virtually impossible for him to have any private life at all. That wouldn’t suit me. I’ve always been very glad that I was born the second son and not the first.’ He smiled. ‘And very glad now that I probably won’t be heir to the throne much longer. Believe me, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that Sofia gives birth to a boy.’
He turned to her. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I don’t begrudge doing my duty. I love my country. There’s no two ways about that. But I’m not like Damiano. With Damiano it’s an obsession. For Damiano, his duty to his country comes first, second and last.’
Carrie found that easy to believe. Hadn’t she seen for herself the intensity that glowed at the back of the midnight eyes? And she found herself thinking for a moment of Sofia and wondering if this explained a little of the girl’s sadness. Did the Duke perhaps neglect his beautiful young wife?
Leone was continuing. ‘Caterina and I are different. Perhaps we have a broader view of life. At any rate. . .’ he smiled ‘. . .I’ve always been very glad that it didn’t fall to me to be the ruler of my country. I’m much happier messing about with my cars.’
He turned to look at her and kissed her hand again. ‘You must come to the workshop some time and see where I work. That is,’ he added, ‘if it would interest you.’
‘I’d love to come.’ It would interest her greatly, she was thinking. For suddenly she felt hungry to know more about him. To see inside his head. To understand what made him tick. Finally, to sort out the puzzle that was Leone.
One thing she knew was that she had misjudged him badly.
She’d done it right from the start, from their first meeting in the restaurant, and had continued to do so in stops and starts ever since.
Take the business of the photograph. It hadn’t even occurred to her that there might be a perfectly innocent explanation. And with no trouble at all she had jumped to the conclusion that all the things he’d said to her that evening in the car had been barefaced lies, cynical invention. And maybe it was the moonlight, or simply his nearness, or the distracting way he kept kissing her hand, but suddenly she was convinced that she’d been desperately unfair to him. He was really none of the things she kept accusing him of at all.
While she’d been thinking all this, Leone had been watching her closely, as though he too was trying to figure something out. He said now, kissing her hand again, ‘I want to show you something.’ He started to stand up. ‘Come on.’ He took her hand.
Carrie didn’t ask what it was. She knew he wouldn’t tell her, and anyway she rather fancied the idea of a surprise. She just allowed him to lead her along the broad gravel path that skirted the west wing of the palace, past the lake where a pair of swans silently glided, their backs as soft as thistledown in the starlight.
But though she asked no questions she was growing curiouser by the minute as they turned onto a narrow stone-flagged path that curved between a low-slung canopy of trees. And then, as they turned the corner, she had her first major clue.
The low building in front of them, with its curved Gothic doorway, narrow stained-glass windows and air of having been there for ever, was obviously the family chapel. But Carrie still didn’t say anything, though she had a strong suspicion now that she knew what he was about to show her. And suddenly her heart had quickened in her breast.
The only light inside the chapel was from the flickering candles that cast a warm yellow glow over the ancient frescoed walls. Leone took her hand more firmly and led her to the altar, pointing to the painting on the frieze behind it.
‘Look there,’ he told her. ‘What do you see?’
Carrie peered where he was pointing, eyes squinting against the semi-darkness, trying to make out the painted figures on the wall. And she was just about to shake her head and tell him it was too dark to make out anything when suddenly something clicked and she could see her perfectly.
‘It’s your angel!’ she gasped. ‘The one you told me about!’
For there she was in all her glory, with her golden wings and flowing robes, and even Carrie could see that the resemblance was uncanny. The angel’s features were almost identical to her own. It gave her the strangest sensation in the pit of her stomach.
‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ Leone was standing behind her, his hand lightly on her waist as he gazed up at the angel too. ‘
I’ve spent hours looking at that angel in the course of my life. I first fell in love with her when I was about ten years old. I used to dream of meeting her, but I never thought I would.’
He seemed to hold his breath for an instant. ‘At least, I thought that till I met you.’
Quite spontaneously, without thinking what she was doing, Carrie reached up and laid her hand softly over his. What a lovely thing to say. She felt deeply moved by his words. No one had ever paid her such a very special compliment before.
She waited till they were outside again, heading back down the stone-flagged path, then she turned to him and told him what was truly in her heart.
‘All the things you told me tonight. . . your explanation about the photograph. . . I believe you. I believe you without reservation.’ She looked deep into his eyes. ‘And I’m really sorry I ever doubted you.’
‘You mean that?’
Carrie nodded. ‘I really, really mean it.’
‘I’m glad.’ He smiled. Then as they stood there beneath the trees he reached out and touched the side of her face with his hand. ‘You really are incredibly special to me, you know.’
‘And you to me.’
It surprised her that she had said it. But now that the words were out she did not regret them.
She smiled at him. ‘You were right. I was just angry and jealous.’
‘I’m sorry you got hurt.’ He slid his fingers through her hair, then let them curl softly round the back of her neck. ‘You must learn to trust me more. It’s quite safe, I promise you. The only woman in the world I want is you.’
Carrie could feel her heart thumping. The fiery touch of his fingers was turning her bones to powder as she stood there. And the way he was gazing at her made her feel as if she was drowning. She had to part her lips and gasp for air.
But before she could draw breath he was taking hold of her, very gently, then drawing her into his arms and kissing her.
‘My angel.’
He held her close, his hands softly caressing her, his lips kissing her hair, her eyes, her mouth. And the warmth of him was engulfing her, and the scents of him, and the virile power of him. With a sigh Carrie wound her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his face.
I could love this man, she thought, without surprise, just facing facts. This man could become the centre of my life.
He was looking down at her, eyes burning. ‘I would suggest we go to my apartments. . .’ He paused. ‘But I know what that would lead to. I’d want you to stay the night. And maybe you’re not ready for that yet—which I understand totally.’ He kissed her softly on the mouth. ‘So it’s entirely up to you. If you’d rather, I’ll take you home. After all, it’s pretty late.’
The words hung in the air for only a moment. Carrie smiled at him and softly stroked his face with her fingertips. Then she shook her head and told him, ‘I don’t want to go home.’
There was no need to say more. Leone held her for a moment, his breath shallow and fast as he kissed her face lovingly. Then he took her by the hand and, holding it very tight, led her in the moonlight back to the palace.
Carrie had often dreamed what her first time would be like. But it had never occurred to her that she would lose her virginity in a vast Napoleonic bed beneath a priceless Renaissance wall tapestry, her lover as handsome as some Greek god, the whole scene bathed in the soft, seductive glow of a magnificent pierced brass Ottoman lamp.
But that was how it was. As magical as some fairy tale and yet as real and immediate as the warm male body that pressed against her, devouring her, intoxicating her, filling up all her senses. Nothing had ever been so real or as magical before.
They had barely spoken a word on the way to his apartments. Why talk when the touch of their bodies said it all? And when they had finally reached his rooms they had simply fallen into each other’s arms, each throbbing with helpless desire for the other.
And there were no foolish inhibitions, no holding back at all, as they shed their clothes and fell down on the bed, kissing and caressing each other with frenzied hunger.
It seemed that no power on earth could stop what was about to happen. The strength of their shared passion was far too fierce.
And, as Carrie had known he would be, Leone was a wonderful lover—gentle and wild and tender and exciting. With masterful hands and lips, with slow kisses and caresses, he unleashed the burgeoning whirlwind within her, till there was not an inch of her body that did not burn with excitement, nor a corner of her being that did not cry out for him.
Carrie did not tell him she was a virgin, and she knew it was unlikely that he would be able to tell. If she had told him he might have hesitated, or even drawn back, and she couldn’t have borne to be denied him now.
As his hardness pressed against her and she took it in her hand she knew she had to feel that power deep within her, tearing her asunder, finally making her whole. Only his complete and total love could quench the ache in her loins.
At last, he drew himself on top of her and she shivered exquisitely, knowing that this was the moment she’d longed for. She would tell him the truth later: that there had been no other man before him. Now it did not matter. There were only the two of them in the universe anyway. For that was how it felt—as though the whole world had vanished, the only reality remaining what was happening between them.
The light from the big brass lamp that hung from the ceiling illuminated his features as he raised his face to look at her. And in that moment, as she seemed to slip into the endless pools that were his eyes, she knew with sudden clarity that she had been wrong a little earlier when she had thought that she could easily fall in love with him.
It had already happened.
She had fallen already.
I love him, she thought. What a glorious thing!
Her fingers laced in his hair, glorying in her discovery. It was all even more special now. Even more magical. And she shuddered as he gripped her flanks, his body poised to enter hers, his lips reaching for hers again, his breath hard in her ears.
I love you, I love you, I love you! she thought, kissing him back fiercely, pressing against him. My wonderful, wonderful, adorable Leone!
And a moment later she gasped with joy as their two bodies were joined.
It was much later, deep in the night, that, with a start, Carrie awoke. Where was she? Her heart was beating wildly inside her and a strange dread seemed to clutch at her throat.
She breathed slowly for a moment and anxiously reached out her hand, sighing with relief as it brushed against Leone. He was still here. She had not lost him. For that was the fear that had gripped her. To lose him now would have been too terrible to bear.
Though still deep in sleep, he had felt her hand brush against him and now he was reaching out to draw her to him, sighing with contentment as she curled against his back.
‘My angel,’ he murmured, as though in a dream.
Carrie wound her arms around him, pressing her face against his shoulders, as the wild beating in her chest began to slow at last. But though she tried to ignore it as she drifted back off to sleep she could still taste the bitter bile of dread in her throat.
CHAPTER EIGHT
LEONE was lying very still, propped up on one elbow, gazing at the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever seen. Carrie. Sleeping in the bed beside him. My angel, he thought with a sense of joy and wonder. And it seemed to him that he had never felt so happy in his life.
It was morning and the sun was filtering through the shutters, bathing the room in a rosy golden light. Down below, he could hear the swish of the sprinklers in the garden, and the occasional scurry of footsteps out in the corridor beyond the bedroom reminded him that the palace was getting ready for the day. But for once he was in no hurry to get up and get started. He would gladly have lain there and gazed at her all day.
It was funny, he was thinking, how things could happen. In the beginning, all she had really been was a pretty girl who had caught
his eye and whom he had thought it would be fun to flirt with for a while—though, even in the beginning, there had been something special about her. But he had never suspected that he’d end up feeling like this.
He sighed, his blue eyes thoughtful. The things he was feeling were all new to him. No girl he had ever known had ever affected him this way. Sometimes he wondered if it could possibly last, but then all that happened was that it simply grew stronger. And little by little it seemed to be taking over his life. Which worried him a little. Sometimes worried him a lot. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for this sort of thing.
She was stirring now. Lazily, her eyelids fluttered. She sighed a sleepy sigh. And then, suddenly, she was looking at him.
‘Buongiorno.’ Leone leaned over and kissed her. ‘Hi,’ he told her. ‘Welcome to the world.’
‘Good morning.’ Carrie stretched. ‘Have I slept terribly late?’ She smiled at him. ‘How long have you been lying there watching me?’
‘A while. Maybe half an hour. You looked like an angel. But then you always do. My very favourite angel.’
Carrie laughed. ‘You’re crazy.’ She reached up and touched his face. ‘But I think I like you crazy. So I guess that’s all right.’
‘Only think?’ He kissed her nose. ‘You don’t sound very sure.’
Not sure? Carrie looked at him. Oh, yes, she was sure. Opening her eyes just a moment ago to find him gazing down at her had caused her heart to melt with happiness. What a glorious thing to wake and find him here beside her. This wonderful man whom she loved with all her heart.
But she could not tell him that. Instead, she told him, teasing, ‘First I have to find out just how crazy you are.’
‘I see.’ Leone smiled. ‘Well, I’m crazy about you.’
As he said it he took her hand and held it against his lips, and as their eyes met and held and his lips caressed her fingers Carrie knew that, like her, he was thinking of last night. A shiver went through her. Last night had been special. A part of her that she hadn’t even known existed had suddenly been awakened and given wings to take flight. And she knew that deep inside her she was changed forever.
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