A Venetian Affair

by Catherine George

  Nell’s heart turned over as Luca stared at her. She sensed his question went a lot deeper than the masks.

  Molly distracted them both. ‘I told you they were gross.’

  ‘Well, I thought they would teach you something important about the history of Venice. The plague, and how it affected all of Europe—’

  ‘Commendable, I’m sure,’ their masked companion observed drily. ‘But there are other more interesting, and possibly less ghoulish, tales about Venice that Molly might want to hear.’

  ‘Like what?’ Molly pressed, instantly grasping the fact that it might be possible to extend the conversation until the fireworks started.

  ‘Harlequin and Columbine, for one.’

  ‘Please!’ Molly looked down at Nell again.

  Tantrums she could deal with firmly, but when Molly was making a perfectly reasonable request, how was she supposed to refuse without seeming to be a killjoy?

  ‘Well, perhaps we can stay long enough for you to hear about Harlequin and Columbine…’

  It surprised Luca to discover how much he wanted to be part of their adventure. The sight of Nell with her daughter touched him. She had tried to bring the carnival alive for Molly, and if she hadn’t quite pulled it off he wasn’t going to leave her to flounder this time. ‘And then long enough after for that for me to find new masks for the three of you?’

  ‘We couldn’t possibly accept,’ Nell protested.

  ‘Why not?’ Molly stared first at her mother and then at him.

  Luca found himself warming under the sense of responsibility. ‘Why not?’ he repeated gently, looking at Nell.

  ‘Because…’

  ‘I’d really like to—I’d like the chance to share our customs, our holiday with you. Won’t you let me?’

  ‘When you put it like that…’

  There was a moment—no, more than a moment—when he felt a new and very different kind of triumph. But Molly was shrieking with excitement, and before he could identify what it meant he was forging a passage for their little group through the crowd and heading for the shops.

  Which was how they came to be watching fireworks at midnight after a night of dancing and eating sweet, crispy pastries still warm from the oven. And then one of the bands struck up a tarantella, and Luca insisted they must all join in the dance.

  ‘Not again! I can’t,’ Nell protested, but it was no use; Luca’s enthusiasm was irrepressible, and it was such fun dancing with a crowd of Italian families. All age groups were represented, teenagers dancing unashamedly with their grandparents, mothers with their sons. Then a grey-haired gallant swept Marianna into the action. Nell couldn’t resist now!

  Laughter and shrieks were erupting all around them, and then Luca swung both Molly and Nell off their feet and whirled them round and round until they were dizzy. The moment the music finished in a crashing finale, he lifted Molly onto his shoulders again and went in search of some ice cream.

  ‘I really can’t!’ Nell looked incredulously at the giantsized cone he was holding out to her.

  ‘Tonight you can,’ their masked companion assured her. ‘Tonight you must forget the usual and allow the fantastic to take you over. It is one of the first rules of carnival.’

  They had barely finished the ice cream when Luca insisted they visit the sideshows. There were fortune-tellers, hoop-la, and a shooting gallery, where he excelled, and finally apple-bobbing, where Molly was surprised to find something that reminded her of home.

  ‘Festivals are much the same the world over,’ Luca explained. ‘And where there are apples, there is apple-bobbing. Shall we make your mother take a turn?’

  Nell tried until she was helpless with laughter, but she still couldn’t manage to secure a single apple in the barrel of water.

  ‘You need sharp teeth for this,’ Luca advised, collecting one for her with a flourish.

  Nell held his gaze a beat too long, and knew she was blushing by the time she looked away.

  ‘I’m glad the masks don’t stop you eating ice cream.’

  ‘The masks make anything possible,’ Luca assured Molly, who was now wearing the child-sized mask he’d bought her—a fabulous thing, extravagantly decorated with sequins and feathers. ‘A humble man may dance with a noblewoman, a milkmaid with a prince—’

  ‘Or a simple doctor with three grand ladies,’ Nell suggested impishly, flourishing her own rather elegant mask, which was attached to the end of a white-painted stick. It was the Columbine mask Molly had insisted she choose. Nell had been relieved when Luca could not be persuaded to exchange his plain black mask for a matching Harlequin, quartered in the same red, black, white and bronze.

  ‘But they make a pair,’ Molly had protested.

  Exactly, Nell’s eyes had seemed to say as she stared at Luca, so don’t you dare buy that mask!

  ‘I think I’ll leave it,’ he had said, shooting an ironic glance at Nell—and the plague masks were tactfully left behind in the shop.

  But after the apple-bobbing Molly started to flag. ‘We’d better get back now,’ Nell said. ‘You don’t have to leave, Luca, we can get a water taxi.’ She could see that none of the Italians were ready for home yet, and so it was a good time to leave. There were plenty of small craft lined up at the edge of the canal, waiting to take passengers back to the city.

  ‘Why don’t I take Molly back?’ Marianna suggested. ‘There’s no reason why you should have to leave, Nell. I’m perfectly capable of taking her home. In fact I’m a little tired myself,’ she added, smothering a yawn. ‘So, if you don’t mind…’

  It was hard for Nell to disagree. ‘Of course I don’t mind.’

  ‘And I’ll find you a taxi—make sure it’s someone I know, who will look after you,’ Luca offered.

  Striding to the landing stage, he called a man over and Nell saw that money was changing hands. ‘You didn’t need to do that,’ she insisted when he returned. ‘I would have paid—’

  ‘Older customs prevail during carnival. One such tradition demands that a man must protect and care for his female companions. You must allow me to play out my role.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of denying you that,’ Nell said wryly. She was rather enjoying this strange anonymity. It felt as if they were starting with a clean page. Two people who had only just met, who brought with them none of the ghosts from the past…One night…one anonymous night…

  She waved to Molly and Marianna as their boat sped away, and then turned back to confront her striking companion. ‘So, where will you take me, kind sir?’

  ‘To dress you,’ Luca said, his lips curving wickedly.

  Chapter Nine

  THE costume shop belonging to one of Luca’s friends was located in one of the narrow alleyways behind the square. It was dark inside like a warm cave full of jewels, but the jewels were silk, and the silk was cut cunningly to make the most of the female form.

  Nell gasped as she saw herself in the ruby-red gown Luca had picked out for her. The bodice left nothing to the imagination, but she felt exposed in a very feminine way, a way that prompted her to ease her breasts a little further out from the cruelly laced bodice.

  ‘It has to be tight, signora,’ the shop owner explained to her in the dressing room, ‘to make the most of your bosom.’

  Well, it certainly did that. Did all Venetians have such a knowing way with them, Nell wondered, or was that just another product of the magic that was carnival? There was a transparent lace fichu peeping out at the front of the bodice of the dress, and that was all that stood between her and total exposure. Her nipples were on fire, the blood rushing to them thanks to the boned and laced top, and every time she eased her shoulders in a shrug they were straining to escape. So she wouldn’t be doing that, Nell determined.

  Her waist looked minute, her bosom huge, her feet tiny in the high-heeled satin slippers. The dress rustled as she moved, causing the air around her to rise up bringing with it an age-old mix of perfumes. She felt as if she had been transported to ano
ther time, another world, where anything was possible…

  ‘You should use this mask now, and carry a fan,’ the owner advised. ‘And a beauty spot just here,’ she added, placing a small black patch on Nell’s cheekbone beneath the fabulous white silk mask studded with rhinestone and pearl she was wearing in place of the Columbine mask. The woman had dressed her hair in the style she had so admired. It was held up with diamanté combs at each side and fell in soft curls around her face.

  The owner stood back to admire her protégé. ‘You look beautiful, signora…like a true lady of the court.’

  ‘That’s how I feel,’ Nell admitted, smiling as she examined her greatly changed reflection in the looking glass. ‘Like a lady of the court.’ A wicked lady, she added to herself silently, pursing her lips to add some rouge.

  ‘Would you like to show the gentleman who brought you here now?’ the woman invited. Nell knew that she had opened the shop especially for them at Luca’s request, but like Luca she was playing the game of anonymity to the hilt.

  With a last glance over her shoulder at the fascinating stranger in the looking glass, Nell inclined her head.

  He was stunned when she came through the door. It was fortunate that his role in this drama demanded that he dip her a low bow. His feelings were so close to the surface, so raw and unconfined, he was glad of his mask as well as the shadows in the intimate boutique. ‘You look beautiful, signora…The costume becomes you.’ His arm tingled beneath the touch of Nell’s small, pale hand. ‘Shall we continue the adventure?’

  As he stared into her eyes he could see them darkening behind the mask. But there was a warmth between them now he found as addictive as the lust. And she was beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful woman in the history of carnival. And she was his.

  The music had slowed to more sensuous rhythms by the time they returned to the square; the old people and the children had long since gone to their beds. But for the beautiful young woman in her ruby-red gown and her striking companion, a tall, powerful figure dressed all in black, the night had just begun.

  ‘Would you like a glass of champagne?’

  ‘I’d love one.’

  ‘Then we shall call in at Ai Tosi and arrange for our own supply.’

  ‘Instead of coffee?’ Nell suggested drily.

  ‘Coffee?’ Her masked companion looked askance.

  ‘Carnival?’ she whispered, guessing what was in his mind.

  ‘You’re learning,’ he murmured.

  She hadn’t expected a waiter to set up an ice bucket for them in the square and then stand guard over it. ‘This is such an incredible night.’

  ‘No, it’s carnival,’ the masked man at her side corrected her, whispering in her ear so she shivered involuntarily. Taking her hand, he twirled her round slowly, sensuously in front of him. ‘And now we dance…’

  His touch shimmered down her naked arms, making her quiver in delicious anticipation. There was so much of her that was covered, and so much that was revealed. But her eyes were bold now. As they stepped onto the dance floor she felt all the constraints forced upon her by modern convention disappear. The high-heeled shoes tipped her hips at an inviting angle and the gown thrust her breasts out on display. Even the steps she was taking, tiny, controlled, modest, were a reminder of the forces simmering so near the surface. This was a new world, a time out of time, where they were simply two people, one man and one woman, who found themselves in a setting designed for intrigue and romance.

  As the beat of the music grew faster their movements became stronger and more passionate. It was as if they were playing out all their deepest thoughts and desires in moves and flashing looks born of the moment, with no stain from the past to dilute them. Nothing could hold them back; they were aware of nothing but each other; all that stood between them now was the truth. It was attraction at its purest and most physically intense. It transcended all the value judgements they might have made in that other world where carnival held no sway. Could there be a greater escape, a greater rush than this? Nell wondered, as her dark companion tipped her so low over his arm that her hair brushed the ground. Sweeping her up again, he brought her close, so their lips were almost touching at the end of the dance.

  ‘Are you thirsty?’

  All her appetites were raging, and thirst was only one of them. She nodded.

  ‘Come with me and we’ll find a quiet spot.’

  He took her to a bench in the shadows, where they could see without being seen. Like a wraith the waiter approached with iced flutes, which he filled with champagne.

  ‘That will be all, thank you.’

  She sat back as her handsome companion dismissed the waiter, and she prepared to sip the golden liquid.

  ‘No!’

  The command was soft, but forceful.

  ‘No?’

  ‘This is how we drink…’ Twining his arm around hers, he brought his own glass to her lips to feed her with the sparkling liquid.

  She reciprocated, steadying the delicate rim against the full swell of his bottom lip.

  ‘Now drink,’ he murmured.

  She held his gaze as she obeyed. As a drop fell onto the full swell of her bosom, he dipped his head and licked it away. She drew in a fast breath of surprise, of delight—the touch of his tongue, a little rough and very knowing, was so stimulating. Easing her shoulders back, she made sure that he had a nipple to attend to next…

  ‘Lady, you will be compromised,’ he warned, pulling away.

  She pouted, missing the delicious sensation, feeling it as an ache between her legs that forced her to ease her position on the stone bench without even knowing that she did so. But he saw.

  ‘There is an answer to your problem…’

  ‘Tell me,’ she instructed.

  ‘There was a time when a lady’s honour was worth more than a man’s life. And so, in order to progress a relationship forged on the briefest of meetings without unpleasant consequences, a way was devised to…accommodate a gentleman’s companion.’

  ‘Accommodate?’ She tasted the word.

  ‘I don’t touch you…you don’t touch me.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘And you’re already disappointed.’ His lips tugged up in wry appreciation. She didn’t answer.

  ‘Sit forward a little and then lean back against the bench and let your legs fall open…’

  She did as he said, excitement racing through her at the thought of doing something so wicked…But what?

  ‘I want you to close your eyes and imagine you are wearing no underwear. Close them,’ he ordered, when her eyes widened in surprise at his suggestion. ‘That’s good. Now imagine you have one leg over my shoulder, and you are quite exposed…the cool evening breeze is tantalising you, and you long to be touched…’

  Desperately aroused, she moistened her lips, her ears keenly tuned to hear his next instruction.

  ‘And now I’m touching you…just those lush, swollen lips…one finger on each, massaging gently. It’s so good, and you sigh, but it isn’t enough. It only reminds you of the place I’m not touching…the place that seems more swollen and needy than anywhere else…But I’m cruel, I ignore it…’

  His chanting voice never rose higher than a whisper, but he might have been giving her the sternest of instruction. Her hips were working against the silken folds of her gown as if he were indeed touching her.

  ‘That’s good,’ he murmured approvingly, ‘that’s very good. So good in fact, I’m going to reward you…’

  A cry escaped her throat and she opened her legs a little wider.

  ‘Yes, I’m watching you. You’ve opened your legs so wide for me, and I’m looking at you now very closely. I can see that you’re swollen, and moist, and ready for me. I can see your muscles contracting and relaxing, I can feel your heat…and now my finger has found you—’

  She cried out, clutching the bench to steady herself, while he made quieting sounds.

  ‘I know which side you like the best…I know
how to rest my finger there and stroke gently but persuasively—’

  A sound escaped her throat. She was close, so close…

  ‘I’m rubbing now…a little faster, and with more pressure. You like it…you like it very much. You are bucking against me, urging me on…calling to me, ordering me…That’s right…that’s right,’ he soothed, when she moaned her encouragement. ‘Your cheeks are flushed; your breathing rapid…I’m going to hold you now, because in another few passes of my finger you’re going to be there and I have to catch you when you fall…’

  She shrieked as he tipped her over the edge, writhing on the bench in the throes of the most extreme pleasure she had ever known. It went on and on, and he held her firmly in his arms, smothering her guttural cries in the folds of his cloak.

  Until that moment, he hadn’t touched her once.

  ‘There, my lady, isn’t that better? And no damage done. Even an irate father, or some other man who might think he has a claim on you, can have no complaint. You have done nothing wrong other than throw yourself into the spirit of carnival.’

  ‘How convenient.’ A sensuous smile curved her lips. ‘Do you have many such celebrations here in Venice, sir?’

  ‘As many as you like,’ he promised softly, holding her gaze.

  But the dream couldn’t last forever. A sombre mood fell over them as they left the little shop. Nell, in her everyday clothes again, was unmasked, though she carried with her the beautiful Columbine mask Luca had bought for her. She clutched it as if in some way it could help her to hold on to the fantasy. But it was just a fantasy, and as such it was already fading.

  When they boarded Luca’s boat he went immediately to loosen the mooring ropes, leaving Nell on her own in the cabin. He was distant, changed, not the wicked gallant she had spent the evening with. Now he was preoccupied, purposeful and once again remote.

  The sleek white craft had a history she preferred to forget. It only taunted her with the knowledge that Luca could arouse her at will. She wondered now if it had all been play-acting for him. He had removed his costume to steer the boat home and the black jeans and shirt he wore beneath seemed like a brazen statement of his masculinity—a cruel reminder of how much she wanted him.