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The Sicilian s Baby Bargain

Page 6

by Penny Jordan


  ‘However, just as being their eldest brother does not give me the right to interfere in their lives, neither does my over-developed sense of responsibility give me the right to lecture you about the suitability of your clothes for Sicily’s climate. I obviously went way over the top if you thought I had given Maria orders to remove your own clothes.’

  There was that light-headed feeling again, Annie recognised. Experiencing it was becoming a regular aspect of being in Falcon’s company.

  ‘I probably overreacted,’ Annie admitted.

  The warm smile he was giving her was doing things to her heart that could have made it a contestant in an Olympic gymnastics team. Falcon was still smiling at her. He had a good smile—strong and real, with the curl of his mouth in amusement emphasising the fullness of his bottom lip. Something very reckless was spreading a dangerous heat through her lower body, its presence throwing her into frantic panic.

  ‘My father will want to see Oliver, of course. He has a terminal heart condition which caused him to have a relapse whilst I was away. He has been very anxious that Oliver should become part of the family. He knows you are both here, and that has put his mind at rest, but his doctor has recommended that he needs to rest a little more before he sees the little one.

  ‘I should warn you that my father idolised Antonio. He knows nothing of the circumstances surrounding Oliver’s conception. He will not hear a word against his favourite son, and in view of his condition I thought it best not to try to force him to accept the reality of what my half-brother was. I should also warn you that my father does not treat your sex with the respect he should, and that you are likely to find his attitude offensive. I assure you that his offensiveness will not be personal in any way. If you wish, I will take Oliver to meet his grandfather.’

  Falcon was trying both to warn her about his father and to protect her from him, Annie recognised, but on this occasion his concern was welcome. What was it that made the difference between care that was controlling and care that instilled in her the sweet swell of inner warmth that Falcon’s was doing now?

  Was it a matter of degree, of intention, or was it all down to the man offering the care?

  Annie was relieved when the sound of other voices prevented her from pursuing her thoughts.

  The couple coming into the hall quite plainly had so much love for one another that Annie felt a small lump of envy lock her throat. She saw the looks Rocco Leopardi was exchanging with his wife as together they strapped a happily smiling little boy who looked Ollie’s age into a buggy.

  Immediately the children saw one another, neither had eyes for anyone else.

  ‘It’s amazing, isn’t it, how even small babies are drawn to one another? How they communicate their interest in one another without a word being said?’ Rocco’s wife laughed. ‘I’m Julie, by the way,’ she introduced herself, leaving the buggy with Rocco to come over and hug Falcon warmly, and then give Annie herself a briefer but still warm hug before admiring Ollie.

  ‘Well, you’d certainly know that he is a Leopardi.’ She laughed, adding, ‘Oh, look at that, Rocco—you were right. He does have Falcon’s eyes.’

  ‘You must have been shocked when Falcon first made contact with you. I was terrified when Rocco did with me. I thought he was going to try and take my nephew away from me.’

  The two women were sitting together on the terrace whilst the babies played happily on rugs at their feet. Falcon and Rocco had disappeared to attend to some family business, and in the hour during which they had been gone Annie had learned a huge amount from Rocco’s wife—including the fact that at one stage the Leopardi family had thought her nephew, Josh, might be Antonio’s son.

  ‘It’s very courageous of you to come here. I know how vulnerable and alone you must have felt after Oliver was born. But you’ve got Falcon to protect you both now, and you can trust him to do exactly that. He is honourable and strong. Rocco pretends not to, but I know that secretly he puts Falcon on a pedestal—and when you know how Falcon protected and looked after his younger brothers when they were growing up it’s easy to understand why. Their father was dreadfully unkind to them, you know, and to their mother. Rocco says that it’s only Falcon’s sense of duty to the Leopardi name that keeps him on speaking terms with his father.

  ‘What I admire him for most of all, though, is the way he taught his brothers to value their individuality. He encouraged them to become independent of him and of the Leopardi wealth and status. All three of them are successful in their own right, and Rocco says that is because Falcon showed them by example the importance of earning self-respect. It must have been so hard for him. After all, he was only very young himself when their mother died after Rocco’s birth—not even in his teens.

  ‘You’re obviously very fond of him.’ Annie smiled.

  She badly wanted a change of subject. Hearing about Falcon’s childhood, imagining him as a boy, hearing about his emotional pain, was bringing her own emotions too close to the surface.

  ‘I am, yes, and I want to reassure you that you can trust Falcon, that you and Oliver will be safe in his care.’ She frowned and adjusted the folds of her skirt, then played with the sunglasses she had removed and put on the table, plainly not quite at ease. ‘I don’t like being disloyal, but I’ve already told Rocco how I feel. Whilst you can trust Falcon one thousand percent, I would warn you to be wary of the old Prince. I don’t know if Falcon has told you anything about their father?’

  ‘He’s told me that he idolised Antonio,’ said Annie.

  Julie nodded her head.

  ‘Yes, he does. I don’t think there’s anything he wouldn’t do to have Antonio’s son growing up here, where Antonio grew up.’

  There was a warning in the other woman’s words, Annie felt sure. But before she could ask her more directly what it was, Falcon and Rocco had returned.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ANNIE grimaced to herself as she felt her body’s reluctance to return to the heavy and uncomfortable constriction of her own clothes, washed and returned by Maria, after the freedom of wearing lighter things for two full days.

  The only occupants of the castello were the old Prince, Falcon and the servants—so surely it was safe enough for her to continue to wear her new clothes? Playing with Ollie in a shady part of the garden, she had actually felt so safe that she had even removed her wrap top.

  Rocco’s wife’s words had gone a long way to reassure her that she could trust Falcon, and had boosted her confidence in her own judgement. Once she had settled in properly, Julie had promised, she would take her round and show her something of the island. She’d said how delighted she was that Josh, her nephew—now her and Rocco’s adopted son—would have another child to play with.

  ‘It’ll be lovely to have another woman with whom I’ve so much in common so close,’ Julie had told her warmly.

  Annie hoped that they would become friends. Having friends had always been so difficult for her at home and even at university, since she had still been living at home and her mother had always been so anxious about her mixing with the ‘wrong kind’ of people.

  It had only been after the shocking accidental deaths of her mother and her stepfather in a minibus crash whilst they had been on safari that she had finally moved away from home, helped by one of her university lecturers to get a job in London at the British Library. She had been lucky enough to rent a room in a house owned by a widow—but that, of course, hadn’t been anything like as much fun as proper flat-sharing with other girls.

  As it was, Colin had been concerned for her, reminding her that her mother had left the house and the responsibility for her welfare to him. They hadn’t exactly fallen out over her decision to move to London, but Colin had let her know that her decision had upset him.

  It had been a shock for her to return home from work one day to find him sitting in her landlady’s front room, drinking tea with her, having—as he’d told Annie—explained to Mrs Slater that Annie’s mother had made him
promise that he would always keep an eye on her.

  ‘Annie has a tendency to get involved with the wrong sort,’ Colin had continued. ‘Young men who aren’t the type a mother wants to see her daughter associating with.’

  Annie’s face burned now, remembering the humiliation and her sense of helplessness at being trapped by his judgement, unable to escape from it as she had sat there listening to him.

  Half-heartedly, she started to reach for her old clothes. Her case had now been found. It had been placed in a storeroom—no doubt because of its shabbiness, she suspected. However, now having been reunited with her own clothes, Annie discovered—guiltily—that she had no real wish to wear them. They reminded her of Colin. She had chosen them because of him.

  The sun was striking hot bars of sunshine across the polished wooden floor and the silky antique rug that covered it. As she moved the sunlight touched her arm, gilding her skin. Julie had the most lovely light tan. Her skin, like her eyes, almost seemed to glow with good health and happiness. Her own skin looked washed out and almost sickly pale in comparison.

  Julie was so obviously happy and in love. Her happiness shone from her. She had confided to Annie that she and Rocco were now expecting their own child.

  ‘Our second child,’ she had made a point of saying to Annie as she’d hugged her nephew lovingly.

  What must it feel like to be so happy and have the confidence to know you had a right to be the person you were, that no one would try to change you?

  More than anything else what she wanted for Ollie was for him to grow up with that freedom, and in the knowledge that he was loved. She wanted him to have confidence and to know joy.

  Before she could change her mind she dressed quickly in another of her new outfits—a pretty sundress with a neatly cut square neckline, the blue cotton edged with white. The dress was decorated with a row of white buttons that ran down the front, all the way to its dropped waistline. Annie looked at the little cardigan she had put on the bed to cover her arms, and then determinedly put it back in the drawer.

  Ollie had now been introduced to his grandfather—who, Annie had sensed immediately, was not in the least bit interested in her. She had not taken to him at all; especially when he had wept emotionally over her baby, referring to him as the son of his own best beloved son.

  She hadn’t been able to stop herself from looking at Falcon when the old Prince had spoken of his preference for Antonio, but it had been impossible to gauge what Falcon was thinking or feeling from the shuttered harshness of his face.

  She had just reached the hallway with Ollie when Falcon appeared from one of the formal reception rooms opening off the hall, announcing when he saw her, ‘Ah—good. I was just about to ask Maria if she knew where you were. Can you spare me a few minutes?’

  ‘Of course.’ Annie smiled. She felt more relaxed with him now that Julie had assured her that she could trust him, but not relaxed enough not to flinch when he put his hand under her elbow to guide her towards the terrace.

  It wasn’t the first time she had reacted with betraying intensity to either his touch or his proximity, and she could feel him looking at her—although to her relief he didn’t say anything.

  He was formally dressed in a summer-weight tan-coloured suit and a striped shirt. His clothes somehow emphasised his lean masculinity, making her stomach muscles tighten in response to the female awareness of him that a few days ago would have sent her headlong into panic but which now had become so familiar that she was able to control the urgency of her need to escape from what she was experiencing. It meant nothing other than that she knew Falcon was a very masculine and sexually powerful man. She was allowed to recognise that fact after all.

  Once they were sitting down, and one of the maids had brought them coffee, and Oliver was happily engrossed in trying to roll over on his blanket, Falcon spoke.

  ‘Since the castello is now to be yours and Oliver’s home, we need to discuss providing you with something more comfortable and suitable than the two rooms you are occupying at the moment.’

  ‘Our rooms are fine,’ Annie assured him, but Falcon shook his head.

  ‘No. I have my own apartment within the castello, my father has his rooms, and it is important that you too have somewhere that is your own—where you can make a proper home for yourself and Oliver. Besides, ultimately there will come a time when you may well want to entertain friends here privately. You are after all a young woman, and it is only natural that one day you will meet a man…’

  Annie was so agitated that she would have stood up and run out of the room if it hadn’t been for the fact that she couldn’t leave Oliver.

  ‘I don’t want to meet a man. I will never…’ She was too upset to be able to continue to speak, but Falcon could guess what she must be thinking.

  ‘What my half-brother did was unforgivable, but you cannot let his behaviour deprive you of the right to enjoy your womanhood. If you do, you will be allowing him victory. And besides, you have Oliver to think of. I don’t wish to lecture you, but I have seen at first hand the effects that my own mother’s victimisation by our father has had on the emotional development of my brothers and I. It can be hard to recognise love as an adult when one has not witnessed it as a child. I fully intend to provide Oliver with a male influence in his life, but that cannot replace what he would learn from living with two people who love one another. I know that letting go of the horror of what Antonio did to you and learning to trust my sex again demands courage, but I believe that you have that courage.’

  Annie couldn’t let him go on. To do so would be unfair and dishonest. His comments about the duty she owed Ollie had hit home very sharply indeed. After all, she knew all about the long-lasting effect of emotional damage that could be caused in childhood. She sat down again, folding her hands together in her lap so that he wouldn’t see how badly they were shaking. She couldn’t look at him. She knew if she did that she’d never be able to get through saying to him what honesty compelled her to say.

  ‘I…It isn’t just because of what Antonio did to me that I don’t want to meet anyone.’

  Falcon studied Annie’s downbent head. There was absolutely no mistaking the intensity of her reaction.

  Suddenly he was very sharply aware that he had walked into a potential minefield and must tread extremely carefully indeed.

  Mentally he rapidly reviewed everything he knew about her, double checked it, and then said as casually as he could, ‘It seems to me that someone must have given you your dislike of men. Perhaps you didn’t like it when your mother remarried—which is not an uncommon reaction after all? You were twelve at the time, as I recall. A difficult age for us all. If your stepfather wasn’t kind and understanding…’

  ‘No.’ Annie shook her head fiercely. ‘No. That was not the case. In fact, both my stepfather and Colin were…they were both very kind. Colin especially.’

  Colin. Colin her stepbrother. The man Falcon had disliked so very much on sight and who had been so insistent that Falcon informed him if he managed to track Annie down. Immediately and instinctively, with a gut-twisting kick of certainty, Falcon knew exactly who had damaged her beyond any kind of doubt!

  ‘It’s because of your stepbrother, isn’t it?’

  ‘No!’

  Now Falcon could hear the fear in her voice.

  She was on her feet, her agitation ten times stronger than it had been before, her hand beating the table as she reinforced her denial with another forceful ‘No!’ that sent her cup of coffee flying, soaking into the skirt of her dress.

  Falcon reacted immediately demanding, ‘Are you all right? Has the coffee scalded you? It was hot.’

  Annie could see Falcon coming towards her, snatching up the bottle of water that had been on the table as he did so. Another minute and he would be touching her, and she couldn’t bear that now—she really could not.

  ‘No…’ She drew out the word like a frightened child, holding out her hands to keep him at bay.r />
  ‘It’s all right, Annie,’ Falcon told her calmly. ‘I won’t touch you or come near you, I promise. But I need to know if you have been burned.’

  His voice was so calm that it brought her back to reality and sanity.

  ‘No. I’m fine.’

  ‘Good. Now, can we sit down and talk?’

  Talk about what she had just said—what she had just admitted, he meant. Annie knew that. She was beginning to feel slightly sick and uncomfortably light-headed. She tried but could not stop herself from looking anxiously over her shoulder towards the doors leading on to the terrace.

  Again Falcon realised that he could interpret her thoughts as clearly as though she had spoken them.

  ‘Colin can’t hurt you here, Annie,’ he assured her. ‘He won’t ever hurt you again. Because I won’t let him.’

  Her mouth trembled as she sat down and told him, in a mechanical voice, ‘He’ll tell you that I’m a liar, and that all he wants to do is protect me. He’ll tell you that I make the wrong kind of friends, just like he had my mother.’

  The past was threatening to drag her back into its possessive embrace. Heroically, Annie pushed it away. She wasn’t a child or a teenager any more. She was an adult. Falcon was watching her, quite plainly awaiting a proper explanation. There was no point in trying to pretend to him that there was no reason for him to require one. Not now, after what she had already betrayed.

  ‘I know what you must be thinking,’ she acknowledged. ‘But it wasn’t like that. There was never anything sexual about…about the way Colin spoke to me or behaved towards me. It was just that he was…Well, he called it being protective, but to me it felt as though I was being smothered. There wasn’t anything he was doing that was wrong, and it was hard for my mother to understand. She thought I was being difficult and unreasonable. I’d just started senior school, and I was making friends, but Colin insisted on meeting me from school. I had one particular close friend, but he didn’t like her. There was nearly an accident. She was on her bike and he was reversing his car.’

 

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