‘Prego, Francesco.’
As soon as the car turned up to the castello the doors opened like magic as Giacomo appeared to greet them and put the car away.
‘It is his little treat; he loves to drive the Lamborghini,’ said Francesco affectionately as they went inside. ‘Allora, it is very early, so would you like to sit on the terrazza for a while, or are you so tired that you must go to bed right away?’
Alicia turned at the foot of the stairs, her eyes very direct on his. ‘I want to go straight to bed. Will you come with me?’
‘You have need to ask?’ He seized her hand to hurry her up the stairs. ‘But not to make love again. I shall hold you in my arms while you go to sleep, so there will be no bad dreams tonight, amore.’
Alicia gave him a sleepy smile as he opened the bedroom door for her. ‘Thank you, darling.’
His eyes lit up. ‘Say it again.’
‘Darling,’ she said softly, and turned her back to him. ‘Will you undo my zip?’
‘Of course, but I must take great care of this dress. Tell your mother I think you are ravishing in it.’ He slid the dress down, held it as she stepped out of it, then ran a relishing gaze over her from head to toe. ‘You are even more ravishing without it,’ he added huskily, ‘But do not tell her that, perhaps.’
Alicia laughed, and hung the dress in the wardrobe. ‘I doubt that she’d be shocked.’ Later, when they were lying together, gazing at the moonlight silvering the floor, Francesco gave a deep, contented sigh. ‘I have been so much longing for this.’
‘To sleep with me?’
He nodded, and touched his lips to her forehead. ‘To make love is rapture and joy, but just to hold you in my arms as we sleep, Alicia, is a dream come true.’
‘For me too.’ She wriggled closer with a sigh of pleasure. ‘But let’s not talk of dreams.’
His arms tightened. ‘Do not worry, tesoro; if you dream tonight I shall wake you up with a kiss.’
Long after Alicia was asleep Francesco lay awake to savour the sheer pleasure of feeling her boneless and relaxed in his arms. How often he had imagined this. His mouth twisted. So much time wasted. But no more. Now that she had given herself to him at last, he would never let her go. But he must be careful. Alicia was used to living—and sleeping—alone. Also working for a living. She would need occupation once she was here for good. But there were many things she could do to help him, if she wished. To work together as a team would be something he could look forward to with anticipation. A wife experienced in public relations would be a great asset. But, more important than all of that, they would be husband and wife at last, as fate had always intended them to be. And one day, if God was good, they would be parents. He smiled at the thought of babies with curly, coppery hair and blue eyes. Then with a sudden curse he shot out of bed at the sound of sonorous clanging from the castello bell. He pulled on his clothes as the clanging gave way to hammering on the ancient main-door, and smiled in reassurance as Alicia struggled upright, her startled eyes like saucers.
‘Francesco, who on earth is making all that noise?’
‘I will soon find out,’ he said calmly. ‘Stay where you are, amore.’
But she was already sliding out of bed. ‘If you go, I go.’
Francesco caught her by the shoulders, shaking his head. ‘No. I must see first—Gran Dio,’ he added as the hammering started again. ‘Stay here!’
Ignoring him, Alicia ran for her dressing gown, then opened the door and crept cautiously onto the gallery outside as the hammering started again. She breathed in sharply, appalled as she heard a voice—an all too familiar voice—bellowing for Francesco.
‘Let me in. I know Alicia’s in there. You can’t keep her here against her will, you bastard.’
Gareth! Alicia groaned in horror as she went halfway down the stairs to a point where she could watch, unseen, as Francesco put Giacomo aside to open the door and Gareth Davies, wild-eyed and haggard, stormed into the hall.
‘I’ve come for Alicia,’ he panted. ‘Where is she?’
‘Buona sera,’ said Francesco courteously. He glanced briefly at Giacomo, who swung the great door closed and locked it.
‘What the hell—?’ Gareth swung round, fists clenched, as ancient bolts thudded home. ‘You think you can keep me locked up here too? What have you done with Alicia?’
‘She is perfectly safe,’ Francesco assured him as Gareth, with murder in his eye, let fly with a blow intended to knock the other man flat. But Francesco da Luca, accustomed to side-stepping big rugby-forwards, dodged the blow, thrust a hard hand flat on Gareth’s chest in response—and the uninvited guest, too tired from travelling and pent-up emotion to react quickly enough, lost his balance and sat on the stone floor with a thump Alicia heard with a wince from her vantage point, and ran down to interfere.
She reached the hall as Gareth picked himself up, shook his dazed head, then with a roar started again for Francesco.
‘Gareth Davies, stop this nonsense at once!’ she ordered, in a tone which stopped him dead in his tracks.
He turned, rocking on his feet slightly, then made for her, arms outstretched. ‘Thank God! Are you all right, cariad? I’ve come to get you out of here—take you home.’
Alicia felt such affection and pity well up inside her, she had to steel herself to evade his embrace. ‘Gareth,’ she said firmly. ‘I came here of my own free will. And I don’t want to go home yet. I’m staying here for the rest of my holiday.’ A lot longer than that, actually—like the rest of her life.
His arms fell as he stared at her in outrage. ‘What?’ He shot a malevolent look at Francesco. ‘With him?’
‘Yes, Gareth. With Francesco.’ She shot a look at her glowering husband, who was ominously silent, his temper obviously hanging by a thread. ‘We’ve decided to get back together again.’
‘No! Are you mad?’ Gareth’s haggard face paled. ‘Alicia, you can’t do this, you belong to me!’
Francesco’s eyes blazed. ‘You are wrong. Alicia is my wife. And now she has returned to me, I will never let her go.’
Feeling like a bone wrangled over by two angry dogs, Alicia glared at them. ‘I belong to myself,’ she snapped. ‘Now, let’s stop all this macho nonsense and behave like civilised human beings.’
But Gareth, enraged by Francesco’s high-handed declaration, made a rush for him, his intention so obviously to batter him into the ground that Alicia, acting on pure instinct, ran between them to intervene. But Francesco thrust her out of the way and met a knockout punch which would have laid him out cold on the floor if Alicia hadn’t leapt to break his fall.
Francesco came round slowly to the sound of his frantic wife imploring him to speak to her. He blinked, dazed, as he looked up into wet, dark eyes wide with fear, and found his head was on Alicia’s lap, and he was held close in her trembling arms. To his surprise she was sitting on the hard, stone flags with her back to one of the legs of the long table in the hall, which seemed to be full of people, among them Gareth, on his knees beside them, and Giacomo, standing over him with a look that dared the intruder to move.
‘Francesco!’ said Alicia frantically. ‘Speak to me, darling!’
‘What—shall—I say, amore?’ he croaked.
Gareth let out a shaky breath. ‘Are you all right?’
‘No, of course he’s not all right,’ Alicia said crossly. ‘You knocked him out!’
Francesco gave an unsteady laugh. ‘He only managed that, carina, because you distracted me.’
‘If you’ve broken any of his teeth, Gareth Davies,’ she warned. ‘You pay the dentist’s bill.’
Still on his knees, Gareth moved in front of Francesco and held up a finger ‘How many?’
‘Uno.’
Gareth moved the finger, and relaxed slightly when the dazed blue eyes followed it. ‘Do you feel sick?’
Francesco thought about it. ‘I’m not sure. Did my head hit the ground?’
‘No, thank God. Alicia’s flying t
ackle caught you before you landed.’
‘So this is why we are sitting on the floor,’ said Francesco, smiling up at Alicia, who promptly bent to kiss him in passionate relief, missing the look of sudden, rueful comprehension in Gareth’s eyes.
Francesco kissed her back, then smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘Do not cry, carissima. I am fine. Allora, Gareth shall help me up, so that you can get up too.’
With a wry twist to his mouth, Gareth helped Francesco to his feet, then held him by the elbows as he swayed slightly. ‘Steady.’ He turned to Alicia as Giacomo helped her to her feet. ‘I’m sorry about all this, cariad. I obviously got the wrong end of the stick.’
Bianca hurried towards them, her face anxious. ‘I do not wish to intrude, but the bell startled the signora, so I must tell her what happened. But first, are you all right, Alicia?’
‘I’m fine.’ She smiled at Giacomo. ‘Thank you.’
‘Prego, contessa.’
‘Would you like some tea, Alicia?’ asked Bianca. ‘Pina shall make some for you.’
Alicia suddenly noticed that Pina was there in the hall, looking ready to do battle with the intruder, with Teresa peeping, timid and wide-eyed, behind them. ‘I’d love some tea, Pina,’ she said, smiling at the woman in reassurance.
‘Subito, contessa,’ she said, and gave a malevolent glare to Gareth as she herded Teresa away.
Francesco put his arm round Alicia, and smiled reassuringly at Bianca. ‘Tell Zia all is well. We shall go somewhere more comfortable to drink the tea. And Signor Davies shall have a brandy while a room is made ready for him.’
Bianca smiled, reassured, and hurried upstairs to report.
‘After making such a God-awful fool of myself, I’ll be glad of a brandy,’ said Gareth, shamefaced. ‘But I don’t need a room. I booked into the hotel I stayed in when—when—’
‘Francesco and I got married,’ said Alicia, wobbling slightly.
Francesco picked her up, ignoring both her protests and Gareth’s demands to surrender the burden to him. ‘Follow me,’ he said to Gareth, and made for the morning room to put Alicia down on a sofa. ‘Sit quietly amore, while I talk with Giacomo.’ He shot a look at Gareth. ‘Have you eaten?’
‘No—but I don’t want anything.’ Gareth eyed him, embarrassed. ‘How do you feel?’
‘I am only thankful you pulled your punch to avoid Alicia,’ Francesco said wryly, then bent to kiss his wife. ‘Do not move. I will be a minute only.’
When they were alone Gareth bent to take Alicia’s hand, his dark eyes full of remorse. ‘What can I say, cariad? I sort of lost it when I finally got to the castello. I was a bloody idiot, forcing my way in here like that. You know I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.’
‘Of course I do. I’ve always known that,’ she said soothingly, and looked at him steadily. ‘I couldn’t have asked for a better brother.’
His mouth twisted as took in a deep, unsteady breath. ‘I hear you. Don’t worry—I’ve got the message. Finally. Francesco’s obviously still crazy about you, and you feel the same way about him.’
‘Yes. For years I persuaded myself I didn’t,’ she admitted, and smiled ruefully. ‘But the moment I saw him again, I knew I’d never stopped loving him.’
‘In spite of what he did?’
‘He didn’t actually do anything, Gareth. We just got our wires crossed at a highly emotional moment, and I was too young and wet behind the ears to cope. So I ran.’ She gave him a significant look. ‘And, because I never knew he came after me, I believed he didn’t care, so I tried to stop loving him and did my best to forget him. Without much success on either count,’ she added ruefully.
Gareth heaved a sigh. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Bron all those years ago. I always felt you had a right to know he came looking for you.’ He got to his feet as Francesco came back, followed by Giacomo carrying a tray laden with tea, coffee, mineral water and, despite Gareth’s protests, a platter of arosto misto Pina had assembled with cold cuts of roast chicken, lamb, pork and slices of crusty bread.
‘Thanks very much—you shouldn’t have bothered,’ he said awkwardly, but Francesco shook his head as he put a glass of brandy at his elbow.
‘No guest goes hungry at the castello.’
‘I bet you never had one who caused a rumpus like I did,’ said Gareth heavily. He brightened as he eyed the food. ‘Actually, this looks great. I haven’t eaten since breakfast this morning.’
‘A good thing you didn’t down the brandy first, then,’ said Alicia, and smiled at Francesco as he handed her a cup of tea. ‘How do you feel?’
‘I am fine. How about you, cara?’
‘I’ll be fine, too, after I drink this tea.’ She made a face at Gareth. ‘You still like using your fists too much.’
Francesco sat beside her. ‘It could have been worse. He tried to hold back as you ran between us.’
‘But I just couldn’t pull the punch entirely. Sorry—it won’t happen again.’
‘You bet your life it won’t,’ said Alicia. ‘What on earth did you think to gain by killing Francesco?’
‘I didn’t mean to kill him,’ he said sheepishly.
‘Just to smash my pretty face?’ said Francesco slyly, and won a reluctant laugh from Gareth.
‘Something like that,’ he admitted. ‘Though a bit of a bruise on your jaw is the only thing I managed. Which is all to the good, because I got things totally wrong, for which I apologise. I honestly thought she hated you.’
‘So did I,’ agreed Francesco with feeling.
Gareth eyed him wryly. ‘It’s obvious she thinks a damn sight differently now.’
‘Would you mind,’ said Alicia wrathfully, ‘Not talking as if I weren’t here?’
‘Mi dispiaci,’ said Francesco. ‘You would like more tea?’
‘Yes, but you stay here on the sofa. I’ll pour it.’
Alicia sat very close to her husband while she drank her tea, very much aware that, though Gareth attacked his meal with enthusiasm, he was still troubled about something. She exchanged a significant look with Francesco.
‘What is wrong?’ he asked, refilling Gareth’s glass. ‘Something still worries you, no?’
Gareth looked at him, as though about to deny it, then nodded slowly. ‘The thing is, I just can’t forget the state Alicia was in when she came running back home after the wedding. I don’t know what happened between you, and believe me I’m not asking for details. But, because I’m the nearest thing to a brother Alicia’s got, before I leave here I need your assurance that you’ll never make her unhappy again.’
‘I swear—’
‘Nothing could—’
Francesco and Alicia spoke in unison, then halted and smiled at each other.
She exchanged a long look with Francesco, who nodded in answer to her unspoken question. ‘I’ve never told anyone what happened, Gareth—not even Meg—so, of course everyone blew it up into some awful crime that Francesco never committed.’
‘Davverro,’ said Francesco darkly, and took her hand. ‘Tell him, then, carissima. Not to clear my name,’ he added hastily, ‘But to show Gareth that, although I was a stupid fool, I am not quite the monster he believes.’
Gareth shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Not a monster, exactly,’ he said gruffly.
‘But you wanted very much to beat me up that day in your home.’
‘Only at first.’ Gareth grinned suddenly. ‘Not that I would have had all that much success, apparently. You’re pretty handy in a fight.’
‘Grazie; but not quite handy enough tonight!’
‘If you’re ready, you two,’ said Alicia acidly, ‘I’ll tell my pathetic little tale.’
As concisely, and with as little emotion as possible, she told the brief, edited story of the misunderstanding, right up to the point that morning where she’d received the contessa’s legacy of the pearls with the enclosed letters.
‘So, if I had calmed down only minutes sooner that evening
in Paris,’ said Francesco bitterly, ‘I would have gone back to our suite before Alicia left and begged her on my knees to forgive me.’ He drew in a deep breath. ‘Can you imagine how I felt to find her gone?’
‘God, yes!’ agreed Gareth. ‘The day you came to Blake Street with the contessa you looked so terrible, I wanted to tell you then and there that Alicia was safe in Hay with my grandmother. But Bron just wouldn’t have it. She made me promise I wouldn’t say a word, then or in the future. And when my parents backed her up I had to do as she said. But the contessa looked so devastated, I felt awful about it.’
Francesco nodded gravely. ‘My mother felt much guilt—convinced she was to blame. But it was I who said the words that drove Alicia away.’
‘And if I’d had any sense I’d have just waited until you returned and thrown a few choice words of my own back at you,’ said Alicia matter-of-factly, and narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I would now, believe me.’
He grinned. ‘I do believe you. Perhaps now you would throw more than just words, no?’
‘Any missile to hand—so be warned!’
Gareth’s eyes were rueful as he looked from one smiling face to the other. ‘Look, you two, I really appreciate your telling me something so private.’ He grimaced. ‘Though I feel like an even bigger fool now over the fuss I made. Incidentally, that’s some door-bell you’ve got here.’
‘Davverro,’ agreed Francesco. ‘In the past it was used to summon the people of the town to the castello in time of danger, but it has not rung for many years. If you had looked closely, you would have seen a modern bell-press by the door.’
‘Gosh,’ said Alicia, eyes sparkling. ‘Will a crowd of people come streaming up here to your defence tonight?’
‘I think not. The custom has long since been forgotten,’ Francesco assured her. ‘But, no matter. If someone comes to make sure all is well, Giacomo will explain.’
‘That I went berserk?’ said Gareth ruefully.
Francesco shook his head, grinning. ‘My faithful Giacomo will say we were having the fire drill.’
The Italian Count s Defiant Bride Page 16