by SJ Molloy
I can’t help chuckling, but I’m concerned Mr. Carlin will be extremely grumpy and I’ll get the brunt of this.
“Shut it, ladybug. Have you told Lexi you have a date with Marco da Vinci?” Hazel retaliates as she walks out my dressing room wearing a pair of my jeans and a T-shirt. Hazel and Lucy have been friends since they were at primary school and often tease each other without offending one another, similar to my relationship with Hazel—honest.
Lucy is blushing; she’s mortified. I take her hand, smiling widely. “I’m delighted for you. That’s great news. Let me know how it goes.”
“I will, that’s if blabber mouth doesn’t broadcast it first.” She chuckles and nods towards Hazel who has fallen flat across my bed.
“What are the chances of me phoning in sick tonight?” she moans with her arm resting across her forehead.
After a thirty minute visit, satisfied I’m not ready to throw myself in front of a train, they all kiss me goodbye before heading off to work.
“Roo, can I stay here and hang about today?” Hazel asks sheepishly.
“Yes, if you’d like, but I plan on keeping Lucca locked in here with me, so entertain yourself.”
“Oh, check you. Where has Miss Prudish gone to? You lascivious little minx. My friend here has become a sex goddess,” Hazel teases.
Sam snorts sarcastically.
If only they knew how desperate for Lucca’s sex I can be.
“Next thing we know, Lucy will be shacked up barefoot and pregnant with the other Italian,” Sam adds.
Lucy rolls her eyes in disgust, blushing a shade brighter than hot pink.
“Okay, ladies, I’m going for a sleep at the pool. You girls enjoy your work. Do you think the Royal Guards will fan me and bring me grapes?” Hazel asks.
After a few pillows thrown in her direction, Hazel falls off the end of the bed on her ass making us all chuckle but jumps up when Lucca walks in with my breakfast as the girls prepare to leave. I kiss them all and tell them I will call them.
Hazel steals a slice of toast off the tray and saunters back into my dressing room. Lucca shakes his head, although his lips curl up so I know he’s sniggering.
“Rose will make you breakfast, Hazel. She is downstairs,” Lucca offers.
“Lexi, Lucca, my friends, it has been a pleasure, but I’m off to get a three egg omelette and a cinnamon bun thing. If Dominic calls, you tell him I’m feeling poorly and sleeping. Ta-ta.” After her Oscar winning performance, Hazel leaves with one of my bikinis hanging from her fingers.
Lucca closes the door after her dramatic exit. “Hangover?” he asks, referring to Hazel’s mood.
“Yes, and a fight with Dominic.” I shake my head, rolling my eyes.
“Oh dear. They are sweet girls and they did not need to get me a gift, but it was very thoughtful. I am so happy they thought to come by and check on you, that was kind of them.” I wouldn’t expect anything less. I’m very grateful.
Smiling with complete adoration, I pull the covers back and he climbs in, setting the tray in between us.
After breakfast we spend most of the day in bed sleeping and entwined as we enjoy late afternoon sleepy sex. It’s what we both need—each other without disruptions and without worries.
It is almost four in the afternoon before we dress and go downstairs. Rose advises that Hazel left around an hour ago, so I send her a quick text to apologise for ignoring her. Rose prepares dinner while Lucca and I walk Doris in the park hand in hand; Lloyd walks closely behind us. We discuss the exact details the specialist gave him regarding Michael Parks. He tells me about his trip, Fran, his contracts, and a deal he secured with Giorgio for a new Luminara chain.
He confesses he was out of his mind and never slept and that’s why he has Marco, Lloyd, and Devon with me constantly. He said he would have had Armando and Savio here too if they didn’t need to work.
I don’t eat much of Rose’s beautiful meal because I can’t stomach it, so I only pick at my food. Lucca watches me with trepidation.
“Lexi, you need to eat, baby.”
“I’m just not hungry. I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay? You are very quiet.” He places his fork down, cocks his head, and pinches his forehead with his middle finger and thumb then reaches for my hand.
“Yes, I’ve started my period tonight, so I’m probably out of sorts with that.” I am extremely light, so I assume it’s because I have the contraceptive implant. My body is out of sync.
“Does that mean I will get lots of fiery Lexi this week?” he playfully jests.
“If you play your cards right, Romeo, you just might. Although my granny will have us in separate bedrooms.”
“Not an option. You are not sleeping alone without me. I will book us both into a hotel together before I will allow that.” He entwines our fingers tightly to reassure me he’s never letting me be alone.
“Well, you better work your charm then because she’s feisty and always gets her own way.”
He lifts me out my chair and twirls me around in a circle, holding me against him. “Hmmm, I wondered who you took after in that regard,” he teases me.
“Yeah, so they tell me. Please don’t tell them about Michael Parks. Make a plausible excuse regarding the security. I don’t want to worry them.”
Placing me down but still pressing me against his chest, he moves an unruly wave of hair from my face. “They already know. Cameron said the CID was in touch with them, but he asked them not to call and alarm you.”
God, my mum will be in meltdown—all the more challenging—but I’m filing it tonight because I want to focus on Lucca, nothing else. I’d love to run away to Italy and hibernate, but I can’t. I need to be strong and face reality.
“We’d better pack. You head upstairs, and I’ll sort these dishes and tidy up.”
“No, your ankle is still swollen and tender and you shouldn’t be standing on it too long. Rose will get them.” I’m expecting a scolding about wearing the high-heeled shoes but he doesn’t mention it. He’s been very careful not to add to my upset today.
Before I can protest, he has scooped me up and is carrying me. On the bed there’s a large silver box with a massive, pale blue satin ribbon around it. I’m intrigued.
“What’s this?”
“Open it.”
He places me on the bed gently then passes it over. Inside is a thick white leather book. I hope it’s not what I think it is.
“What is it?”
“Look inside. I had an idea, and please, do not be angry with me, but I think it will help.” I open the first page and stare in disbelief.
It’s a full page black and white portrait picture of me. Wow, I’ve never observed myself in pictures as an adult. I’ve never allowed any to be taken, even on my graduation day. I run my fingers over my portrait in amazement.
“How did you get this?” I don’t know how to react. I should be angry, but instead I’m shocked and intrigued so I try to keep the apprehension from my tone.
“I’ve been taking candid photos of you since we met, but I knew you’d object so I tried to be discreet. I had assistance in compiling them together to enhance the quality. They are all tasteful and very beautiful, and for our eyes only. No one else needs to see them, but I thought it might help you see what a vision you are and to accept that this is treasure. Something to cherish.”
I’m shaking. I don’t know how I feel about this. I can barely comprehend.
“Are you angry?” he asks sweetly, moving an unruly tendril of hair behind my ears.
“No, I don’t think so.” Actually, I don’t know what to think yet.
Turning the first page of the professional photo book, there are four pictures all overlapping and all in black and white, except my lips have been coloured pink in one and red in another. I’m laughing in the bottom image, and my dress has been coloured pink. On the overlapping photo, I’m sitting on a wall in the Chianti hills with the sprawling vineyards behind me and my shoes
are coloured red.
Professional. Artistic.
“I look like Dorothy.” I giggle. Lucca exhales a sigh of relief; he’s been holding his breath patiently.
There are continuous pages of creative, abstract, and natural detailed poses.
One of me sleeping on my stomach with a satin sheet across my back in a sepia tone, another in colour of me in a huff with my arms crossed over my chest and my designer dress is coloured in bright lime green but the background has been faded and blended.
There’s one of me sitting next to the pool writing in my journal with my white bikini and kaftan on. I’m in colour but the background is grey and white, the journal coloured in deep indigo.
Suggestive.
Wow, there are so many, each as interesting and special as the next.
There are a couple of close up pictures of me sleeping, revealing certain sections of my features: my eyes and a close up of my eyelashes or my lips. Oh my goodness, the lashes have been individually coloured like a rainbow and my eyes are black and white, so intricate and detailed that its almost unreal. An explosion of colour.
Sweet.
Modern.
Intangible.
Pure adoration.
There is one of Cameron and I cuddling at the farmhouse, my head resting on his shoulder, and I stroke the photo as I recall our heart-to-heart. The journal he holds is bright blue. They are not just pretty, but very clever and expressive. It is pure art the way they’ve been designed and displayed. It’s a story of my life so far with Lucca.
Our love.
The love.
L’amore.
I suspect he’s trying to depict a theme of vibrant colour and beauty amidst the grey shadows of black and white. This is his way of bringing me into his light … from my dark.
Turning the page, I smile realising there is one of me playing with Doris and another with Franco’s dogs at the villa. Another one is of me sitting in front of the fire, hugging my knees, holding a glass of red wine with my robe on. The wine in the glass and the rug have been coloured in a deep burgundy colour. I’m speechless.
Warm.
Cosy.
Rich.
I delicately turn the next page and I’m standing in the Uffizi looking up at Botticelli’s Primavera and Birth of Venus. It looks so real I can almost melt into it, touching and bringing back all the lovely memories. I can put myself back there at that precise moment; it’s that clear.
Priceless.
Memorable.
There’s a page of eight smaller pictures in cubes; each is a snap of a section of me making up parts of my body or subtle hints where my dress hem finishes or a strap hangs off my shoulder.
Naughty.
The next page I’m bending down slipping my feet into high-heeled shoes. Another is from behind, my hair blowing in the wind as I smell a beautiful, blue orchid flower which is the exact vivid colour of blue, purple, and turquoise that I’ve grown to love.
Breathtaking.
“Well?” Lucca asks impatiently
“Shhh … I’m not done yet,” I chide. He smiles and graces my shoulder with a sweet kiss.
Studying the next, I bite my lip. I have a white robe on facing a mirror, putting makeup on. There are shots of me laughing with Sofia and Franco, kissing Marissa and Antonio, cuddling Anna, having a debate with Hazel, and a close up of the blue orchid flower tucked behind my ear and my long flowing hair tumbling over my shoulder.
Fondness.
The next page shows me singing to Antonia, dancing with Roberta, and singing with Cameron with my eyes closed, perched on the sofa behind his guitar.
Natural.
I laugh at the picture of me in Rome looking at an upside tour map on the steps at St. Peter’s Square.
Frustrated!
Then I notice there is one of me in a bikini taken from the back, my hair is tumbling down covering my scars, and has been artfully faded out. It’s in colour, so my skin looks very bronzed. I’m not anxious because it’s subtle and modest.
Sexy?
I stop turning the pages and frown, biting the inside of my lip.
“Do you not like it?” he asks with worry.
“No, I love it. I just don’t see any pictures of us together.”
“Keep turning. I had Hazel take some and Anna and even Cameron when you were unaware because I know you would trust them.”
I’m desperate to see what we look like together. I smile at shot after shot of me wrapped in his arms, or sleeping in arms, or spoon feeding him gelato.
Love.
My eyes prick with tears, looking at a candid picture of us when we were out for dinner at the Jazz festival. Lucca has his shirt sleeves rolled up. His arm is around the back of my chair, and he’s whispering into my ear. I’m blushing. In another he’s kissing below my ear, and in yet another he’s staring at me fondly. It looks like a moving picture it must have been synchronised snaps.
I hiccup, snivelling in adoration at the perfect memory right on this page.
“It’s beautiful. I love this one. It’s perfect, your eyes, God I love them. I loved that day.”
“Me too, baby. It is a very happy memory,” he adds.
Lucca and I are in the middle of his pool at the farmhouse. We’re in black and white, my legs are around his waist, and I’m leaning my head back laughing as he holds me, lovingly staring down at me. He was swirling me around in circles; we had so much fun. This image catches the carefree moment and simple closeness we have.
The pool water has been coloured azure blue, as are his eyes, but everything else is black and white. The sun is setting behind us and shimmering little ripples of light across the water. His eyes are marrying on mine with the pool water equally as crystal clear and bright. I turn around smiling and see the real deal fondly gazing at me now.
Lust.
There is a side view of me sitting in the Jacuzzi at the villa with my hair bundled up in an undone bun and holding up an empty champagne glass, covered in bubbles to my shoulders. Then a photo of us kissing, dancing, me sitting on his knee while he gazes into my eyes, and one of him fastening my diamond pendant around my neck.
I’m nearing the end of the book, and sadly, I don’t want this story in pictures to end. There’s a double-page enlarged print of us at the Four Season’s hotel the night he proposed to me. I look elegant in the cream and black lace Marchesa gown, and Lucca is devilishly handsome and attractive in his black tuxedo.
The next page is the Luminara light display: one of him behind me on the balcony overlooking the lanterns on the River Arno in Pisa, and one of me bunching up my dress to walk up the stairs to the opera.
Light.
He must have had help from the staff for these pictures because the last page is Lucca proposing to me on one knee, and the final is us dancing together in the garden of the luxurious suite. The fairy lights and bright glow from the candles have been highlighted as well as my diamond ring. I’m tilting my hand up admiring my ring as Lucca waltzes with me cheek to cheek.
Happy ending.
Throwing my arms around his neck, I jump on his lap and kiss him passionately with appreciation. When I finally let him up for air, he laughs in that masculine way.
“You like it then?”
“I love it. I love you. Lucca, you always blow me away with your thoughtfulness, but this is just amazing. I love seeing our life together in pictures. It’s breathtaking. I feel so emotional, but happy emotional. I never thought I could look at myself or admire a photograph but this isn’t just a picture it’s a story, a beautiful story of us.”
“Good, I am glad you like it. I thought it would help you see how beautiful you are, and encourage you to allow wedding pictures of us so we will have memories to show our kids one day.”
“Thank you,” I say it with so much appreciation I’m beginning to choke up with emotion.
“It doesn’t need to finish there, Lexi. We have a lifetime to take pictures, make memories, and we can fill
as many books as we like. I thought we could get your favourite ones enlarged on a huge print and frame them, or I can make a wall collage with them.”
“Let’s just stick to the books for now. You said someone helped you? They must be professional because these are outstanding.” I flick back and forth through the pages, my eyes coming alive once more.
“Yes, when I was in Sardinia I met with Giovanni Costanzo. I explained it was a gift and asked if he would work on the images I had taken. He said you are very photogenic and would love to photograph you himself, so maybe he could do our wedding or baby pictures.”
“Lucca, he’s famous. His rates would be exorbitant. That’s absurd.”
“Don’t worry about rates. Anyway, his company rents a studio and gallery in one of my Italian buildings, so I am sure I could talk business.”
I lie on my side, propping my head in my hand and open the book. I spend the next hour fascinated with images, searching every expression, admiring the contrasts in colours and shapes. Lucca smiles with pride fascinated with my reactions to each photo.
“I want to take this with us to show my mum. She’ll be overjoyed.”
He smiles watching me turning over the same pages again and again. “Lexi, you know you just need to look at me. I am right here.” I throw a pillow at him then start with my packing.
Chapter 28
The Highlands
We’re not taking the BMW X5. Instead, Lucca and I will be travelling in his Aston Martin and Lloyd and Devon will both follow with their own SUVs, one getting the short straw of taking Doris.
I assumed because we’re taking her we’d use my new BMW X5, seeing as that’s its purpose—trips with Doris—but as Lucca rightfully points out, it’s not safe to be exposed with my personalised registration plate.
Peter has locked up both my cars in the garages around the back. Doris’s bed and food has been loaded into Lloyd’s SUV, and they’ve packed boxes of groceries, which Rose purchased early this morning. Lucca makes a few early morning calls and then goes to his study to call the specialist advising her that I’m aware of the situation and asks the investigator assigned to the case for any updates.