The Sibylline Oracle (The Sibylline Trilogy)

by Colvin, Delia

  She picked up the phone and tried to recall Alex’s last name. But the operator didn’t seem to require any information and connected her to Signore Morgan’s room. Alex Morgan. What a nice name.

  Answering his phone on the first ring, Alex said he would see her downstairs when she was ready. There was a knock at her door and it was room service with fresh fruit, warm brioche, and cheese. Valeria ate a strawberry and found she was famished. She ate every bite before jumping in the shower. She dried her hair and realized that this was the first time she had dressed for a date with Alex. She pulled out the cotton wrap dress with the three-quarter length sleeves that she had purchased the previous year. It was simple, comfortable and yet there was an elegance about it. The dress had hung in her closet for almost a year because David always insisted on something more stiff and formal for their dates, leaving her no opportunity to wear it. Not wanting to take too much time, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and brushed on some blush, mascara, and lip-gloss before heading downstairs.

  Alex had showered and changed, too. He was wearing a greenish-gray V-neck shirt, blue jeans, and a sports jacket. Valeria was careful not to comment on how much she enjoyed his wonderful scent or how incredibly handsome he looked.

  They drove through the countryside and Valeria felt a thrill as she saw the Verona sign. “Verona! I’ve always wanted to go there!”

  Alex smiled. “Home of Romeo and Juliet.”

  She beamed as Alex touched her shoulder. “I thought we would have an early dinner here, if that’s all right with you, before heading on up the hill.”

  “Up the hill? I guess I should ask—where are we going?”

  “I’m sorry. I thought I’d bring you to meet my family at our home near Trento; it’s called Morgana.”

  “Morgana?” Valeria drew her eyebrows together. “As in Morgan? The estate must have been named after your family.”

  Alex flashed a smile. “Other way around! Our family name came from the estate; Morgana was the wife of the original owner and their son named it for her.”

  “Your family is Italian? You don’t have a hint of an accent.”

  Alex smiled, as he easily parallel parked on a cobblestone street. “I’ve spent much of my life traveling. I guess I’ve developed the ability to pick up subtleties in languages and dialects.”

  “So, I’m going to meet your family?” One thing Valeria was absolutely certain of was how she felt about meeting Alex’s family—mortified! She hadn’t even met David’s family yet. She was particularly concerned with what they would think of her. Especially if that family had any concept of who Alex was.

  “Well, we aren’t related, that way. We are related by common experience. But we are closer than family. They are looking forward to officially meeting you.”

  From the meeting with Mani, she somehow sensed that there was some kind of business that had to take place. What that business was, she hadn’t bothered to find out.

  The breeze was a teasing shimmer on the air, calming Valeria. It smelled rich with grapes and Italian cookery. They sat in a beautiful courtyard with Italian music playing softly. They drank wine and ate Caprese con mozzarella and warm bread with olive oil. Alex offered his arm to her as they strolled the narrow cobblestone streets of the ancient town, barely surviving a swarm of brightly colored Vespa scooters with women in business suits and helmets.

  “Would you like to see where Juliet lived?” Alex teased.

  “Juliet was fictional,” Valeria said, smiling back.

  “Maybe. But she has a home and a museum here. Would you like to see it?” Valeria nodded.

  It was a romantic tour. An opera singer sang from Juliet’s balcony. When it was over, they wandered, wonderfully and without purpose. Alex guided Valeria into a small antique shop where the shopkeeper greeted Alex by name. Eyeing the extravagances casually, Valeria saw a beautiful Limoges box with forget-me-nots painted on all sides. Alex nodded to the clerk, who took the box and placed it in a bag with several lengths of fragrant, dried flowers. Valeria looked at Alex in surprise. He winked and smiled to thank the shopkeeper. Valeria saw the exchange of looks and caught herself wondering how many women Alex Morgan had brought to Verona. She took a moment to evaluate the tight feeling in her chest and then realized that it was jealousy—a completely unknown emotion to her.

  Back in the car, Alex loaded a carefully chosen selection of songs by Jason Mraz. His romantic guitar and beautiful vocals filled the air as they drove into the foothill of the Alps.

  The fall colors were even more spectacular as they gained elevation. It was early evening when Alex, driving like a professional racecar driver through the sharp mountain curves, finally turned off the highway onto a private, tree-lined road. He pulled the car to the front of a beautiful stone and wood cottage that was lit by what appeared to be firelight, as if someone were there.

  Alex jumped out and opened Valeria’s door. They walked past a massive row of hydrangeas that seemed to surround the house. Alex led her up the stone steps and onto the cedar deck that had a porch swing and flowerboxes. Valeria noticed the details of the entrance. It had a double cedar door with two circular, iron knockers, and an intricate, hand-carved design that looked like two large C’s facing each other. Alex took a deep breath and swung open the door. Valeria’s eyes got even larger and her mouth fell open with a sigh.

  “Alex! This is…” She turned to him. “I don’t even know how to describe it. Breathtaking doesn’t seem to be enough.”

  Leaning on the doorframe, Alex glowed as he watched her reaction with nervous anticipation. She looked up in awe at the wood beams high above her and the wrought-iron candelabras on each wall. Wandering across the great room, she lightly trailed her fingers along the massive library full of leather bound classics. She noticed Sense and Sensibility and Walden at eye level. The other wall was home to a stacked stone fireplace that was already ablaze and encircled by a comfortable cream colored couch, loveseat, and two overstuffed chairs. The floors were dark and spotted with colorful rugs.

  Arriving at the marble kitchen island, her eyes darted from the hanging pots and pans to the state of the art, stainless steel appliances—not that they would do her any good. She had never been much of a cook. She also noted the doorless arch to the bedroom. Carrying the remainder of their bags, he dropped his by the door and continued with Valeria’s suitcase toward the bedroom.

  Suddenly feeling awkward, she wondered if Alex understood what a big step it was for her, just going away with him. The expectation might be that she was ready for intimacy but, for some reason, she didn’t feel that was the case. Valeria knew Weege would call her naïve. Especially if she could see this extraordinary cottage—and this extraordinary man, who most certainly had never been told no.

  She followed him into the bedroom cautiously and watched as Alex sat her suitcase on a bench at the foot of the four-poster feather bed. “Here’s your room,” he said, uncomfortably. “There’s the bath and there’s the closet,” he indicated, pointing to a walk-in and abruptly exiting back into the great room.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be sleeping on the couch.” Alex brushed his hand through his hair, obviously ill at ease. “Sorry, I didn’t have a chance to make other arrangements.”

  Feeling unexpectedly let down again, Valeria realized that, suddenly, the feeling of intimacy was gone and this romantic setting seemed wasted. She followed him back to the great room and into the kitchen area.

  “The others are up the hill at the main house. Lars thought it might be best to give you a night to yourself. So, I thought I would pour you a glass of wine while I meet with them. You can bathe or sit on the porch.” Alex drew in a deep breath and hesitated before exhaling. “But, don’t worry. We’ll be keeping an eye out to make sure you’re safe,” he said, as he pulled a bottle out from under the marble countertop.

  “You’re leaving? Won’t you join me for a glass of wine?”

  “No,” Alex said, absentmindedly, his
hands fumbling with the normally simple task. Finally, the cork released with a pop. “I need to stay sharp.”

  Valeria could barely hide her disappointment. “I guess I’m just surprised that you're leaving. You drink wine don’t you? Yes, you drank today.”

  “Yes, and I really shouldn’t have. I guess I got caught up in the…” Alex’s voice faded as he pulled down a wine glass from a cupboard. “I drink occasionally. I like Scotch. I’d join you but, as I said, I really need to stay sharp.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll understand later.”

  The musical ping of the wine being poured into the glass told Valeria that this was very fine crystal. Not that she knew much about fine crystal, but she knew she hadn’t heard that sound before. Alex came around the counter to where she was standing by the fireplace and passed the glass to her, careful to avoid contact. Then he stirred the fire, averting his eyes from her gaze.

  “It’s just for a few hours. But I’ll be keeping an eye out. So, you don’t need to worry about anything.” Alex put his hands in his pockets for something to do with them. “Just make yourself at home.”

  Valeria felt the sting of disappointment as Alex turned and went out the door. Why would he bring her to this beautiful place and then desert her? What was going on and why was she even here? Her head spun in answerless circles. And that comment about someone keeping an eye on her? She didn’t need anyone’s help! She had done quite well for most of her life keeping an eye on herself. Granted, she would have been squashed yesterday if not for him. But that didn’t mean she was an imbecile or incapable of defending herself!

  Her irritation dampened as she took her first sip of wine. It was very good! Valeria opened her suitcase and took out her toiletries and journal. She knew she should hang up her clothes but, instead, she laid back on the bed, setting her wine down on the table and staring into the fire.

  She wrote in her journal, I met a man. Then her eyes closed for a moment and she was out. She dreamt of him. She dreamt of him holding her in this bed.

  Sometime during the night, Valeria felt a blanket cover her. Later, her eyes opened to see Alex there. But her mind drifted back to sleep, making her question whether she’d dreamt the past twenty-four hours. In her near dream state, she thought she saw a beautiful, redheaded woman sitting with Alex drinking a glass of wine. Her arm touched his as if there was an intimacy between them. Valeria caught some of the conversation but was too tired to process any of it. She quickly drifted back into a deep slumber.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Good morning,” Alex said, a bit roughly. “I’m sorry to wake you, but the family is waiting for us.”

  “What?” Valeria said, startled as she bolted straight up in bed. Then there was a moment when she couldn’t quite figure out where she was and then, with some embarrassment, she realized that she was in Alex’s bed. Her next thoughts had to do with her appearance. She cringed when she realized her ponytail had partially fallen, leaving stray hairs all around her face. Her mascara had probably smudged under her eyes, too. She quickly tried to pull her hair out of the ponytail and then realized that she was fully dressed. She noticed Alex looking awkwardly at her. He was already showered and dressed but carried a hint of stress in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in on you like this. I really should have put in a door here.” Alex looked down at his boots before returning her gaze. “If you’re up to it, the family is up the hill at the main house waiting for us.”

  There was an odd mood stirring in her, one she wasn’t familiar with. To Valeria’s surprise, she realized that she was upset with him, even though she knew it was ridiculous. She could not think of one reasonable excuse for her mood. Pressing her lips together, she wondered if this was what people meant when they spoke of waking up on the wrong side of the bed. She always woke feeling at least somewhat pleasant, so there must be a reasonable explanation, she justified.

  Then it hit her—the redheaded woman! Valeria’s slight moodiness quickly escalated to anger. Did Alex really ditch her here, at this beautifully romantic cottage, to go meet up with another woman—and then bring that other woman here...while Valeria slept in his bed? Suddenly she felt violated as if someone unwanted had snuck into her own bedroom.

  Then the words the redhead had spoken began to take shape. “Alex, you must know she expects more from you.”

  How does this woman know anything about me? Valeria tried to recall Alex’s response. Why hadn’t she paid more attention?

  Then, the redhead had laughed in a condescending manner. “Just look at her! She’s in your bed for Christ’s sake. What do you think she expects?”

  Now, Valeria was not only angry, but mortified. She had, in fact, been in Alex’s bed.

  Despite her outrage and humiliation, deep down she knew that all of this made more sense now; her relationship with Alex was platonic and he was with the beautiful redhead. She was probably his wife and was wondering why a strange woman was sleeping in her bed. Now, Valeria needed to adjust to the fact that, although there had seemed to be something more, Alex was just a friend. Maybe he had brought her here, all the way from New York, to fix her up with one of his friends. Who knows? Although, Italy didn’t seem to have any shortage of beautiful women.

  Besides, Valeria reminded herself...she was engaged! What the hell was she doing running off with another man? And why had it never occurred to her to ask Alex where exactly they were going, or why? Valeria felt beyond ridiculous.

  Then, Alex made a perfectly marvelous amend that improved her disposition, slightly. “I’m sorry for intruding but…well, here.” He stepped into the bedroom and handed her a cup of coffee, in a perfectly over-sized mug.

  Valeria looked down and saw the blanket, realizing that Alex had covered her during the night. As she pushed it off and grabbed the cup of coffee, he quickly turned. She glanced down and saw that her dress had pulled up in her sleep, revealing most of her thighs. She quickly pulled the blanket back up and her dress down, feeling her face flush a deep purple. One look at him told her that he had most definitely noticed and had covered her to save her embarrassment.

  Wow! She was not usually one for black moods, but one certainly had bit her this morning. Alex retreated from the room to start breakfast. It smelled wonderful. Coffee was one thing, but enjoying anything else he prepared was simply condoning this whole, awful situation.

  Sipping the brew, Valeria appreciated the perfect ratio of cream to coffee. Then it hit her—this was the absolute, most perfect cup of coffee! She took a deep breath and her eyes rolled back in bliss. “Thank you!” she said apologetically, loudly enough for Alex to hear.

  She heard Alex, sounding distracted, say, “Sure.”

  Alex’s wife must be upset that she had fallen asleep, or that Alex had volunteered their bed. Valeria glanced at the clock on the night table and saw it was after ten o’clock in the morning. They had arrived at seven the previous evening and she was asleep within the hour. That was a record amount of sleep for her.

  Fighting the urge to throw on a pair of sweats and a wrinkled T-shirt, Valeria grabbed a white blouse and jeans from her suitcase, then showered and changed. She didn’t need to be that nervous now. Alex was most certainly sloughing her off on some ne’er do well friend or brother. She would thank Alex and explain that she was engaged to a diplomat and really wasn’t so desperate that she needed to fly half way around the damn world—escorted at that—to find a man!

  Pulling her wet hair into a ponytail, Valeria resisted the hair dryer. She was aware that it was a desperate attempt to prove that she didn’t really care how she looked. Still, vanity forced her to add a touch of make-up.

  When she stepped out of the bedroom, having made the bed and folded the blanket, she saw that Alex had a full breakfast set out for her with freshly squeezed orange juice, half of a grapefruit, a frittata, and all kinds of pastries. Their smells wafted into Valeria’s nose and she could feel the hunger pangs in her stomac
h. But she would not, for the life of her, let Alex believe that this incredibly luscious display of food would change anything.

  So what if he was this incredibly sweet, incredibly caring guy whom she could so easily fall for? She watched as he turned to get jam from the refrigerator. She realized that Alex wasn’t just nice looking, he was beautiful. Even now, it was work to avoid swooning. But with his obvious game playing, and his girlfriend or wife or whatever the redhead was, Valeria decided to cool it all down. Besides, she thought, even if there was a competition, which there wasn’t, the redhead was far more beautiful than Valeria’s simple looks. She saw the empty bottle of wine on the counter that confirmed that the redhead was real.

  “I’ll just have the coffee. But I’d like a refill,” Valeria said. She quickly grabbed a croissant, not wanting Alex to know that she would enjoy any of it. He poured cream into a metal cup and then filled it to the top with fresh coffee before he screwed on the lid. She thanked him when he handed it to her and then walked to the door, letting him know that she was finished.

  Alex nodded hesitantly, and then placed the juice back in the refrigerator. He helped Valeria put on her light coat and led her onto the deck. The air was pleasantly crisp—not as cool as New York in the fall. The sun fettered down through the golden, red, and green leaves in a lacy pattern. Valeria took a deep breath. The air smelled so fresh and felt so delightful that somehow, instantly, her mood improved.