by Lia Lee
When he finally came to rest over her, his forehead pressed against her shoulder, Briony felt a foreign peace flood through her.
Chapter Five
Of course, the peace Briony found in Marco's arms couldn't last. He rolled off of her, gathering her into his arms. He planted sleepy kisses along her neck, murmuring in Italian. She was sure that whatever he was saying was sweet, but suddenly the implications of what she had done sank deep claws into her.
Oh god, he's still the man who thinks those ridiculous things about women. Rescuer or not, I don't know him. I don't know him at all. Oh god, what am I doing with a man that I don't know?
She had never done anything like this before. She wasn't someone who was given to one-night stands or even talking to strangers, let alone having sex with them. She could barely believe her own recklessness.
I am going to blame all of this on the adrenaline after what happened with those men from before, she told herself, but that didn't help her figure out the current situation.
Marco could tell there was something wrong. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at her. She nearly melted when he reached up to tenderly brush a strand of hair away from her eyes.
"What is it, darling?" he asked. "What's the matter?"
She almost told him, but then what would happen? She would simply collapse into his arms, whimpering and crying, and he would have another data point that women weren't as strong as men, couldn't even begin to be worthy of the same kind of regard.
Instead, she groped for the first excuse she could come up with.
"I think I hear someone coming," she murmured, and Marco's eyebrows went up. He tilted his head to listen, but he looked dubious.
"No, I'm sure I do," Briony lied. "Here, quick, help me get back into my dress.”
Bemused, he did as she told him to, repairing the cut in the laces he’d made earlier by tying those ends together into a knot first. He didn't lace her up as tightly as Seanan had, but that wasn't necessary. The thing that mattered was that the heavy dress was on and it wasn't likely to fall off.
"Stay here," she said urgently. "I'm going to go see who it is, and I'll stall them while you get dressed."
Briony started to walk towards the door, but Marco grabbed her by the hand, spinning her back for one last gentle kiss. She was sure she was already so rumpled and flushed that it likely wouldn't make much difference at all.
"Send them away, but do not be afraid," he murmured. "Nothing will harm you while you are with me."
She smiled, and as she hurried to the silent door, his words echoed in her head. More than a part of her wanted to return to him and let him make good on his promise, but right now, she was entirely too overwrought to do anything with that. No, she needed to get somewhere safe, she needed to think about what was going on, and she needed to be alone to think.
"Hi!" she said to the empty air upon opening the door. "Oh, I see, yes, yes...."
She slipped out of the library, closing it behind her, and then picking up her skirts, she dashed back to the guest wing. She encountered some people already heading up to rest after the party, and that was even better. There was likely a lot of people leaving now, and she would be lost in the crush. Of course, that was if he even cared to look for her. Would he? It hurt to think that he wouldn't, but Briony shrugged that hurt off.
She nearly ran to her own small room. It wasn't really hers, but it was so comforting. With trembling hands, she pushed off the dress, but she couldn't simply leave it in a pile on the floor. She hung it up instead, and when she looked at it, she had to sigh. Marco had said she was more pretty by far than the dress, but looking at it now, she knew it was a lie even with the small rip in the hem from when she’d climbed down from that tree in the grove. She pulled off the black mask that she couldn't help but feel had started all of this and left it on the counter.
Finally, she climbed into her thin yoga pants and favorite, oversized T-shirt. Seanan had sighed over Briony's chosen sleepwear, urging her towards negligees and other fancy satin items for the trip, but Briony was stubborn. Now, nestled in clothes that said “home,” she was grateful for her own willful ways.
That wasn't me, she thought to herself. I'm not someone who runs around in velvet and masks. I'm not someone who runs through olive groves after getting chased by strangers, and I'm definitely not someone who...who makes love to men like that in the library.
Even when Briony thought of it now, she couldn't stop herself from shivering. Marco's touch was like some kind of deep magic, drawing out a wildness in her that she had never even considered before. In his arms, she had been someone far different, and it would be lying to say that she hadn't liked it.
The wistfulness to be back in Marco's arms, to be that exciting woman again, was nearly the most alarming thing that had happened to her that night. She shook her head, pulling back from those thoughts.
No.
She wasn't that woman, she never would be, and the more heed she gave it, the more trouble she would get into.
Still, it was difficult to banish thoughts of Marco entirely, especially when vivid memories of his touch started to ghost through her mind.
Briony realized she must have sat with her warring thoughts for hours when there was a gentle knock at the door.
Marco...?
She padded to the door, feeling practically naked even in her frumpy sleepwear, but when she peeked through the peephole, she was both relieved and disappointed to see that it was Seanan.
She opened the door, and her sister floated in, a rapturous look on her face. Briony noted with affection and a complete lack of surprise that Seanan looked as fresh and vivid as she had when the evening began, her own velvet dress crisp and lovely.
"Oh my god, Briony, it was amazing, there were so many people, and I managed to get some time with Lionel O'Neil from Wentworth Pictures, and..."
Seanan stopped abruptly, looking her sister over. Briony felt as if she was under a microscope whenever her older sister turned that gaze on her. She tried to turn away, but Seanan grasped her by the shoulders and turned her around.
"Honey, what happened? Are you all right? You look like you've been sick or maybe that you've been crying?"
Briony shook her head. "No, neither. I guess...I guess it was just all a little too much?"
"Awww, sweetie," Seanan said sympathetically. "Mr. Baldassare said something about some of his groundsmen making trouble for a guest. They're in the lockup right now, but I guess there's some stress going around... Oh...oh honey, are you all right?"
Against her will, Briony could feel tears springing up in her eyes. Seanan guided her over to the bed, cuddling her close.
"Oh Bri, I didn't know that was you! You should have come looking for me."
"There was someone else around to look after me for a little while. I was fine." Briony sniffled. "I mean, nothing happened, I just got scared, that was all."
Seanan scowled. "That shouldn't have happened to you. I'm sorry it did. Did someone take a statement from you? Did you have to talk to the police?"
"No, nothing like that. Seanan...can we just go home? I mean, can I just go home?"
The thought of dealing with police or anything like that made her throat close up with nerves and anxiety. She couldn't stand having to recount it. She might have done it if there was a chance those men were going to walk, but she realized that Marco had likely only spoken about himself being attacked by the groundsmen. Absolved of that responsibility, all she wanted to do was to get out of Italy and go home.
"Go home?"
Briony shook her head, wondering at how she could be so selfish. This was Seanan's victory party, and the idea of pulling her sister away from it only made her more miserable.
"We don't have to..."
"No." Seanan's voice was steel. "If you want out, we're getting out. Stay here, get some sleep. I'm going to go talk to some folks who might be able to help us out."
Seanan dropped a gentle kiss
on Briony's forehead. "Don't worry, I'll get everything taken care of. We're getting out of here."
Briony felt as if there was something tugging at her heart, demanding that she stay in Italy, but in the end, fear won out.
"Yes, please," she whispered, and she knew her sister would move the world to get her what she needed.
***
It took Marco a while to realize that he had been tricked. Velvet wasn't coming back, and by the time he made it to the library door, she was long gone.
For some reason, he was impressed. Even if it had been at his expense, it had been neatly done. Then he felt as if he had been punched in the gut.
He was not naive enough to think there was no reason why a woman might want to discreetly move away from an incident of love-making, even one as impressive as theirs had been. She might have had second thoughts, Christ, she might have been married. Marco understood.
Usually Marco understood.
The idea of his Velvet being married was a bitter pill to swallow, but that wasn't the only reason women fled. He knew he had to know why she had fled, if only so he could tell her that it was foolishness, that the kind of connection they shared was too special by far to waste.
Tomorrow, he told himself. Tomorrow, he would find her, they would talk, he would learn her real name, and then things could truly begin.
Any other option was unthinkable.
***
At seven in the morning, Seanan herded Briony onto the jet, two fresh tickets in her hand.
"I was able to trade my tickets and my room to Augusta Ward, who was never even invited to that first party," Seanan said triumphantly. "And I'll get started with more networking when I get back to LA. This is working out better than I would have thought."
"I'm glad," Briony said with a faint smile, and she was. She would never have forgiven herself if she had cost her sister a precious opportunity, but Seanan had a way of landing on her feet.
In their seat, Seanan tugged up the armrest so she could let Briony lean against her shoulder.
"It'll be fine, you'll see," Seanan said soothingly. "We'll be back home in no time, and you're sure to get back to normal."
"I hope so," Briony said with a sigh, and as the sun rose, she watched Italy drop away behind them.
Chapter Six
One year later…
Marco ducked as the comtessa threw a second glass at him, smirking just a little, though if he thought about it, there was nothing funny about the situation at all.
"You're a bastard, Bianchi," the comtessa snarled. "You think you can lead a woman on like this and not suffer the consequences?"
"I think that you're just very bad at listening to me when I tell you things," he said. "I told you up front that I had no interest in you beyond the physical.”
She shrieked high enough to break crystal, and there was no telling what she might have done if her friends hadn't dragged her off. The club's bartender, more than used to this scene, impassively slid Marco another drink. He was just taking a sip when Stefan, his head of security appeared.
"You cannot slip away from us like that, Your Highness," Stefan said reprovingly. "Did you hear that woman screaming earlier? I was afraid that you had gotten into some kind of brawl."
"Yes, that would have been terrible," Marco said, lying glibly. If Stefan knew half of what Marco did on a regular basis, he'd probably have a heart attack.
"Yes. So perhaps stay close and let me do my job."
"Of course, very right, Stefan," Marco said, slapping his bodyguard's shoulder. "What's next on the docket for the evening?"
Stefan shot him a disapproving look, but he'd stopped mentioning that that wasn't his job ages ago. "A film premiere. Red carpet. At least you are already dressed for it."
Marco glanced down at his tuxedo with amusement. Was he wearing the damn things more often these days? It was easier to simply wear them out.
"Sure, why not," he said with a yawn. "If it's too terrible, I will simply fall asleep in the theater."
As a matter of fact, Marco did not fall asleep in the theater. The film itself was amusing enough, a Hollywood romantic comedy about handsome people living in New York, but Marco was already losing interest until about fifteen minutes in.
He wasn't even looking at the screen when he heard a laugh that sent chills up his spine, right before a voice he recognized very well said, "Well, if that doesn't take the cake..."
Even after a year, Marco could still remember her soft laugh, her warm, husky voice. He remembered seeing her bare except for a domino mask in a secluded alcove, he remembered how she had thrown her head back with pleasure when she’d met her pleasure so fully and so beautifully he thought it had shaken the world.
He stared up at the screen, waiting impatiently for the speaker to appear again. It was her. It had to be. Same chestnut hair, the same bright blue eyes. Something about it was off, but he ignored the small voice at the back of his head. It was her. It had to be.
He would be lying to himself if he said that he had to reach back into his memory to find her. It felt that not a week went by when he didn't think of her. When things had become so troubled six months ago, Marco thought he must have remembered her every day, desperate to find a moment of calm in a world gone mad.
He watched her on the screen, hungry for a glimpse of her. She was the second lead, smart and funny, far more interesting than the lead herself. She stole the show, and Marco felt a sudden surge of possessiveness for the men in the audience who were falling in love with her now.
Marco knew with a nearly supernatural chill that she was in the theater with him somewhere. His Velvet, sweet and lovely and bold…she was so close that in a few hours, they might be in each other's arms again.
He watched the credits, but for some reason, when he found her name, there was a peculiar, flat feeling. Seanan was a lovely name, but it suited his Velvet oddly. In the dim theater, he looked up her name on his phone and realized that she had been in the movie for that premiere he had attended a year ago. It had to be her. There was no way this could be a coincidence.
She was easy to find in the crush afterwards. All he had to do was follow the laugh and find the flash of gorgeous chestnut. He walked up to her, his heart pounding like a blacksmith's hammer in his chest.
"Hello, Velvet," he said softly, and she turned to him.
"Excuse me," Seanan said with a smile. "I'm afraid that you have the advantage over me. Have we met?"
Marco could barely understand his own feelings at that point. He had expected to feel at least a little crushed if she didn't remember him. However, what he felt instead was a strange sense of relief.
Perhaps this wasn't her, or if it was her, he had simply fallen for a fantasy in the middle of a difficult time. He covered his confusion by leaning down to give her a soft kiss on the hand.
"I thought we had," he said with an elegant shrug. "I was at a movie premiere a year ago at Baldassare's estate. I thought I had recognized you from that time. Forgive me."
The actress shook her head with a slight smile. "There's every chance that we might have met then. I'm afraid that my sister had a difficult time that night, and I do not recall a great deal of that evening..."
Sister...
A shiver ran up Marco's spine. He was not a man who believed in fate, or at least, he had not been before this. There was a voice whispering inside his head, telling him yes. Telling him mine. Telling him go.
Outwardly, he only raised his eyebrows.
"I think I might know of your sister," he said blandly. "Perhaps I could speak with you privately later on?"
"Of course, signore," she said with a smile. "I'd be happy to do so."
***
Briony sighed as Eva wrapped her little fingers around a strand of her hair, tugging almost painfully hard.
"Oh my god, sweetie, don't you know that's attached," she said with a wince, and then she rolled her eyes. "What the hell am I saying. You're three months old. You proba
bly think it tastes like candy...yup, here, give it back, you little monster."
She tugged her hair back out of Eva's chubby fist. Her daughter glared at her for a moment, and then with a lightning change of mood, smiled and laughed at her mother instead, waving her arms so enthusiastically that she nearly tumbled out of Briony's arms. Briony caught her again with a skill born of long practice.
"Yeah, yeah, it's a good thing you're cute," she grumbled, but when Eva rested her head against her mother's shoulder, Briony felt her irritation drain away as if it had never been there.
"Listen, you can snatch me bald if you want, just maybe hold back time, if you could? Make the next nine months really, really stretch out. Can you do that?"
She looked expectantly at Eva, but her daughter, dark haired and dark eyed, seemed to have no more answers than she did. Briony sighed.
It's fine. I still have nine months to figure out what to do. Nine months to figure out how to make sure that Eva gets taken care of while I get on to making a living.
She knew she was already fairly lucky. The university where she worked had an excellent maternity leave, and she had been able to take off as soon as Eva was born. What might happen when she had to go back to work was a mystery, but hopefully, it was one she could solve.
With her baby strapped to her chest and a bag of groceries in each hand, Briony thought all over again how her life had changed in the past year. If someone had asked her a year ago what was in her future, she might have shrugged and said that perhaps she would go back to school, or maybe she would have taken up a musical instrument. A baby had been nowhere in the mix.
Now that Eva was here, however, she couldn't imagine life without her, and as she walked along the sunny street, she tilted her face down to nuzzle her daughter's dark hair.
She would be lying if she said that she had never thought of Marco throughout that year, but she had done her best to put him out of her mind. Instead, she was more than occupied raising her very own lovely miracle, and as long as she could figure out what came after maternity leave, they were going to be just fine.