by Maggie Cox
‘Because if that’s the case I don’t want you feeling like you owe me anything.’
‘Having met you, I do not in any way imagine you are the kind of woman who would be as easily placated as that.’ Sighing, he unconsciously laid his hand over his heart in the now crumpled cambric shirt. ‘In any case, I like to think I’m a reasonable man. If I didn’t give your situation proper consideration after the intimacy we’ve just shared, and heartlessly demanded you leave right away, I would be letting myself down as well as you.’
‘Well... I’m glad you feel like that.’
‘But, whatever happens, don’t think I regret what took place between us because I don’t.’
In response, as if suddenly an intruding bright light had been trained on her, Lily’s green eyes flashed. ‘That’s as may be, but it won’t be happening again, signor. I can assure you of that!’
The comment made him smile. He walked to the door, and just before his hand alighted on the handle to open it he turned back, drawling lazily, ‘We will have to wait and see about that, signora,’ as if the matter was entirely open to debate...
Although determined not to dwell over-long on the fact that she’d just had the most incredible sex with a stranger, Lily knew it would be easier said than done. The unforeseen event had been completely out of character for her, and it was hard to believe it had happened.
She’d taken a huge risk in not thinking of protecting herself. Thank goodness her lover had used a condom. He’d obviously been prepared for such a situation, while she was so inexperienced it was laughable...
Still, in the shower she mentally revisited the excitement and pleasure Bastian had given her and gently touched all the places he’d helped to make tender. Combing out her hair in front of the antique mirror in the bedroom, she carefully scrutinised her reflection. She even looked like a different person, she decided. Somehow she seemed to have acquired the rosy cheeks and wide-eyed expression of a veritable ingénue.
Still a little dazed, she returned to her drawing board under the skylight. It would hardly help her, being so distracted, and the tingling in her body and the long-buried ache the Italian had stirred into life again would inevitably tax her concentration.
But at least she didn’t have to leave the villeta straight away. Her landlord’s decision to let her stay a little while longer gave her some much-needed breathing space in which to mull over her predicament and make some decisions.
* * *
During the next few days, as well as undertaking her paid work, Lily started to set aside regular time for her own stories and drawings. Unbeknownst to him, the handsome Italian had issued her with a challenge when he’d asked why she didn’t want to write and illustrate stories herself. The more she thought about it, the more she decided she would seriously consider the idea. Even if it didn’t work out, she ought to at least give it a try.
Lily reminded herself that it was her ex who had thought she was wasting her time doing her drawing when she could have a much better paid career. Bastian didn’t think that that way. Maybe her handsome landlord had unknowingly suggested the very thing she needed to hear?
For the first few days after he had departed for Brazil, Lily often asked herself why she had behaved so wantonly...as if she had no morals at all? But, recalling how it had been between her and the Italian—the instant connection, the impossible-to-resist sexual hunger their meeting had aroused—how could she regret it? More to the point, how would she handle the temptation of him when he returned? Could she risk having sex with him again without any consequences, even though she’d insisted that she wouldn’t?
In light of that, she thought that maybe she should arrange to put some more distance between them and move into the other house they’d offered her before he got back after all? Sighing, she decided to talk to his father Alberto about it. She’d become rather fond of the older man, and instinctively knew he would give her some good advice.
But four weeks after his son had left the country, Lily’s period was late. And after taking the pregnancy test she’d bought from the local farmacia in a bid to reassure herself, she made the startling discovery that she was pregnant...
* * *
July, August and September were winter months in Brazil, but the temperatures were similar to that of an Abruzzo summer. Being acclimatised to the heat, Bastian barely noticed it. Much more prevalent in his mind was the volatile situation he’d left behind him.
He was well used to women coming on to him, but that hadn’t been the case with his beautiful young tenant. Instead they had become shockingly intimate practically on sight. It was as though some greater power had been driving them that day—a power that they had responded to straight away and hadn’t even questioned. Any concept of right or wrong hadn’t entered their minds.
Maybe it was precisely the fact that Lily hadn’t pursued him in the way he was used to that was the reason he couldn’t put the stunning woman from his mind. Like it or not, his business with Lily was far from concluded, and he found himself counting the days until they could be reunited.
And this time things would be brought to a close between them—one way or another!
* * *
Lily had been busier than usual. Since she’d found out that she was pregnant she’d not only attended to her illustrations and worked diligently on her own children’s stories, she’d also started to make her new accommodation much more homely.
The new house was more spacious than the villeta had been, and just as beautifully appointed. To bring a touch of her own personality she’d draped the generous-sized couch and armchairs with silk shawls and the plumped-up cushions that she’d bought from a local market in the town. She also made sure that the large burnt orange ceramic bowl that she’d found in the kitchen was always filled with plenty of fruit.
It would help to remind her that she had to eat especially well now, due to the baby.
But what was done was done. She’d been responsible for protecting herself but she hadn’t, and this was the consequence.
She’d never properly contemplated the monumental change a child would bring into her life and the prospect was undeniably scary. Some would say her decision to have the baby as a single woman was an irresponsible one. But the idea excited her. Life suddenly seemed to take on much more meaning.
The challenge of writing her own stories as well as illustrating other authors’ work to help pay the rent had grown to encompass the unexpected miracle that was taking place inside her body. In truth, Lily was excited at the prospect of taking care of the child and raising him or her.
The only fly in the ointment was that she hadn’t shared her news with Bastian yet. He was still away. When he found out about it would he think she expected him to support her and the baby? The thought made her shudder. It had undoubtedly come as a shock to discover she was pregnant, but it was her decision to go through with it.
There was no way she wanted to be beholden to another man—especially after the mistake she’d made in marrying her husband. But sooner or later her handsome landlord would be home and, like it or not, she would have to tell him everything.
In the meantime, although she missed the villeta with its inspiring skylight and the vista of olive groves, the traditional stone house she was now renting from the Carreras was just as appealing. For one thing it was closer to the sea, and yet it was surrounded by the most idyllic countryside. Another plus was that every morning she woke to the sound of the waves lapping on the shore, and towards evening witnessed some of the most dramatic sunsets she’d ever seen.
As for Alberto’s advice about moving there when she’d gone to see him, he had been kindness itself.
‘You must do what your heart tells you to do, signora,’ he’d said. ‘Despite what my son may have told you, there is no need for you to panic about the situation. We can wait for you to decide. Whether you choose to
leave the villeta in the time suggested or to move into one of our other houses, first and foremost we want you to be happy. We have not always been so fortunate as to have tenants as reliable and charming as you, Lily.’
He’d clasped her to his chest and kissed her soundly on both cheeks. She’d grown very fond of the man, and loved the way his brown eyes crinkled at the corners and sparkled when he was pleased about something. The warmth he conveyed was undoubtedly reassuring.
She wondered if Bastian shared his father’s quality to soothe and reassure...
* * *
He was agitatedly pacing up and down, his boot-heels making the dust motes fly up from the floorboards. Meanwhile his father sat upright in his favourite kitchen chair and patiently allowed his son to vent.
‘I cannot believe you let her move out just like that!’ Bastian fumed. ‘As I understood it she was going to say at the villeta until I returned from my trip. Plus, she said working under the skylight there helped inspire her to do her best drawing. What if that doesn’t come so easily to her in the new house?’
The younger Carrera came to a sudden standstill, dropped his hands to his denim-clad hips and glared.
‘Why are you suddenly so concerned as to whether the signora’s surroundings inspire her or not? You certainly weren’t before. We both know the villeta has to be demolished in order to convert the land. Isn’t that what you urged me to remember when you thought I was being too soft with her? I thought you wanted her to leave as soon as possible?’
‘I did... I do.’
Feeling ill at ease, Bastian impatiently pushed back the rebellious lock of hair that tumbled onto his brow. What was it about this woman that drove him to such levels of agitation? Again he recalled that feeling that she had bewitched him.
‘Forget what I said. If she is quite happy with the arrangement then that suits all of us, does it not? I will call in to see her later, to see how she’s settling in. And to thank her for co-operating at last!’
Releasing a sigh that sounded as if he’d been holding it in for ever, he crossed the floor to squeeze the other man’s shoulder affectionately. Narrowing his gaze, he examined him searchingly.
‘Have you been okay? Dolores tells me that she’s been making sure you’ve been eating well and are getting as much rest as possible. I trust that there’s been no more chest pain or anything like that?’
Alberto scowled. ‘Between the two of you, you make me feel like a sick child who needs round-the-clock care! Now, instead of fussing over me, why don’t you sit down and tell me all about your trip to Brazil. Was it worthwhile?’
His son grinned. ‘Need you ask? You should know by now that I never embark on a business trip that isn’t fruitful!’
CHAPTER THREE
IT HAD BEEN a long time since Bastian had been up this way to look at their properties. And even though he knew their caretaker Mario made sure that everything was kept in tip-top condition, Bastian was surprised to see how homely this particular rental house looked.
It was built in the style of a traditional Italian farmhouse, and inside the old-fashioned brick ceilings had been restored and a tasteful degree of modernity added. The kitchen, bedrooms and bathrooms were particularly spacious, and the sea views spectacular.
Outside, at the front of the house, he could see that the earth in between the concrete slabs they’d had laid looked to be recently dug over, ready for planting. Already some bulbs had been bedded in and had started to sprout. There were tantalising glimpses of pink, blue and yellow blooms. Most of the frontage had been pragmatically concreted into a patio...they hadn’t had flowerbeds there for a long time.
Was Lily responsible for this very satisfying new arrangement? He knew Mario would never have taken it upon himself to do such a thing without discussing it with him first...
Rubbing a hand round his jaw, Bastian was still mulling over the changes as he nimbly negotiated the steps to the front door and was surprised to find it open. With a brisk knock against the wood panelling, he put his head round the door.
‘Anybody home?’ he called out, first in his native Italian and then in English.
‘Is that you, Alberto? Just give me a minute, will you? I’m in the middle of something...’
At the sound of the voice he hadn’t realised quite how much he’d been longing to hear, he stepped inside. His pretty tenant was seated with her back to him at the rustic chestnut desk he’d installed long ago, her pencil deftly moving across a large sheet of paper on a drawing board, clearly intent on concentrating.
Her sunlit hair was scooped up behind her head with a simply knotted scarf fashioned out of some emerald-green gauze, and it exposed the lovely ballerina-like slope of her neck. He stilled for a moment, aching to touch his lips to that flawless and inviting bare skin. Thankfully he controlled the impulse just in time, because Lily suddenly turned round and saw him.
Immediately colouring, she said, ‘Signor Carrera... I didn’t know you were back from your trip. When did you return?’
Dropping her pencil onto her sketch pad, she got to her feet, unconsciously smoothing her hand over her hair. Today she was wearing a sleeveless white top that exposed her delicately tanned slim arms, teamed with apricot silk palazzo pants that rippled like the gentlest of streams when she moved.
Bastian tried doubly hard to keep his desire at bay.
‘Yesterday...in the early hours of the morning.’
‘Then no doubt you must still be feeling quite tired?’
‘Not at all...the thought of coming home always helps revitalise me.’
‘Well, I...’ Flushing a little, she gestured towards the kitchen. ‘Can I get you a drink of something?’
‘No. There’s nothing I want right now.’ Except you, his mind flashed. ‘How do you like your new accommodation?’
‘I love it. I don’t know why I worried so much about moving.’
‘Good—that pleases me. I can see that you’re working. Mind if I take a look?’
‘Be my guest. It’s an illustration I’m doing for a new book,’
As she stood back to let him draw closer Bastian breathed in the intoxicating scent that indelibly clung to her. It reminded him of all the good things in life that he loved combined... How could he have forgotten it after the intimacy they had shared?
Even as his blood heated at the memory his gaze fell on the captivating sketch of a tortoiseshell cat with enormous green eyes and an exaggerated suggestion of determination on its face.
‘Is this for someone else’s story or one of your own?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes, I think it does. It’s very good, but I’d rather it was for one of yours.’
‘Why?’
He folded his arms and looked at her...really looked at her...almost as if for the very first time. His examining gaze reunited him with the reality of her beauty and grace and, whilst he’d never been possessive about women before, the pleasure and satisfaction that coursed through his veins at knowing he’d made her his, couldn’t be measured.
‘Two reasons. First because it reminds me of you, and I’m guessing any stories you write must equal your drawing talent, and second because it’s too good to give to someone else.’
Feeling undeniably self-conscious, she nodded. ‘Well, you’ve guessed right. I took your advice and this is an illustration for one of my own stories.’
‘So you have taken up your writing more seriously?’
‘Let’s say I’m trying to.’
‘And what’s this expression of determination on the cat’s face about?’ The corners of his mouth lifted in gentle amusement.
‘You’ll have to read the book to find out. That is if it’s published.’
‘Why wouldn’t it be when, going by this engaging illustration, you clearly know how to bring a children’s story to life? What�
��s the title?’
‘If I had my way I’d like it to be called There’s No Such Word as Can’t.’
‘Is that a piece of advice you were given growing up?’
With an awkward shrug of her slim shoulders Lily tried for a smile but didn’t quite manage it.
‘Yes...but I haven’t always been able to apply it. My teacher once said it to me on a school trip to France, when I woke her up in the middle of the night because I couldn’t sleep. I was afraid of the dark, you see. After telling me there was nothing to fear, and that soon I would be back home and wishing I’d enjoyed the trip more instead of worrying, she told me to go back to bed and try harder to get some sleep. That’s when I said, I can’t.’
‘How old were you at the time, Lily?’
‘About nine or ten.’
‘Being away from home at that age would be bound to make most children anxious. I’m sure you weren’t alone in feeling that.’
She frowned. ‘The other girls in my room didn’t seem to have a problem. The thing is... I should have been braver. I felt like such an idiot.’
‘You were no such thing,’ Bastian said firmly. ‘You were just a child. Anyway, I don’t doubt your teacher’s comment helped you because you remembered it. Perhaps you’re more determined to overcome your fears now, yes?’
‘I’d like to think so.’
‘It seems to me that a lack of belief in yourself is what hurts you the most, Lily.’
‘How do you know so much about me when we’ve only just met?’
Her near-whispered response was tentative. And even the air around them just then felt as if it was holding its breath, loaded as it was with a peculiar kind of danger that only they knew the reason for. Bastian was quite aware that the inevitable discussion that loomed was as potentially threatening as a hand grenade thrown into the room.
‘Mind if I change my mind about that drink you offered?’ he asked.
‘Not at all—what would you like?’
‘A cup of coffee would be good. Black, one sugar.’