by Penny Jordan
‘Whilst I was in Florence I was speaking with a member of my late mother’s family. One of the old family houses is currently being emptied of its treasures, including the books from its library and a great many family letters. He has asked me if we could house the books here, to which of course I have agreed.
‘My mother’s family history is an interesting one. They were originally silk merchants in the fifteenth century, who bought themselves into the nobility and ultimately became very wealthy and well connected. The marriage between my parents was one brokered between my father and my mother’s uncle, for reasons of mutual financial benefit and social prestige. However, my father never allowed our mother to forget that, whilst his family line descended directly from nobility, hers descended from the merchant class.’
‘Your mother must have been so hurt,’ said Annie sympathetically.
‘She suffered very badly because of my father’s cruelty to her. As children we all felt that our mother must not have loved us enough to want to live, but of course that was not the reality. The reality is that she died from complications after Rocco’s birth.’
Annie could see the three bereft children, desperately longing for their mother, all too easily. Her heart ached for those boys, and inside her head she saw herself as a mother, gathering them close—especially Falcon, who she knew would have been proud and brave and determined to hold back his own tears in order to comfort his brothers.
‘Growing up without your mother must have been awful for you.’
‘As growing up without your father must have been for you. The understanding of what that means is something we share. It may be that, should you decide to learn Italian, you will one day read the story of my parents’ families for yourself. The library here at the castello holds many personal diaries.’
Immediately Annie’s eyes lit up with excited anticipation.
‘There’s nothing I’d like to do more,’ she admitted.
‘Then I shall make some enquiries and find a teacher for you. Or if you prefer you could take a language course in Florence. My apartment there is large enough to accommodate you and Ollie.’
He was being so kind. Whilst she had been listening to him she had, she realised as Falcon reached for the bottle of rosé and leaned across to top up her glass, almost emptied it.
‘Oh, no. No more for me. I don’t drink at all normally—’ she began, but Falcon ignored her and continued to pour.
‘I am most certainly not in favour of anyone drinking more than they should, but it is important that you learn to drink a couple of glasses of wine without it going to your head. It will give you confidence in social situations. Now, I have also been thinking about you and Oliver whilst I was in Florence.’
Annie’s heart gave another furious flurry of too-fast beats, so she took another sip of her wine. It did taste good, and a lovely warm, mellow and relaxed feeling was beginning to creep over her.
‘If you are to have any quality of life of your own then you will need someone who you can trust to look after Oliver in your absence.’
‘I don’t want anyone else to look after him,’ Annie protested. ‘I love him and I want to be with him.’
‘It is not healthy when mother and child have only one another. Normally in Italian families there is always someone for a mother to turn to for help. She is not left alone to bring up her child. I have spoken with Maria already, and she has a cousin who trained as a nursery nurse. She and her husband have recently returned to live on the island, and I have arranged for her to come up to the castello when you feel ready to speak with her. You can interview her. If you decide she is suitable then you will be doing her a favour, as well.’
Noblesse oblige, Annie thought ruefully, but she knew that what he was saying made sense, so she nodded her head and then said, ‘Ollie’s falling asleep. I’d better take him upstairs and put him to bed.’
Falcon’s answer—‘I’ll carry him for you’—had her denying that there was any need for him to do so, but Falcon simply stood up and went to lift Ollie out of his chair.
‘I have a distinct feeling that if I let you disappear upstairs alone you won’t come back down again. And as you know we have an outstanding matter to discuss,’ he told her.
Annie was glad she wasn’t holding Ollie, because she suspected that if she had been she would have been in danger of dropping him, so great was the effect of Falcon’s words on her.
It didn’t take her long to put Ollie to bed. He was such a good baby. She smiled lovingly as she kissed his forehead, and then gave a small gasp as she realised that Falcon had come from the small sitting room that opened off her bedroom into the nursery, and was standing watching her.
‘Oliver is a very lucky child to have such a devoted mother.’
Was he thinking of his own mother, and how he and his brothers as children had mistakenly felt that she had not loved them enough to fight death to be with them?
Instinctively moved to comfort him, she told him gently, ‘I’m sure your mother did love you all, Falcon—and that she wanted to be with you. Even though to you as a child it must have seemed that she had chosen not to live.’
She had lifted her hand to his sleeve as she spoke, touching his arm in the kind of tender gesture that came unbidden and naturally, but now—as he moved closer to her and she felt the hard, muscular warmth of his flesh beneath her fingers—a very different feeling from the one that had originally motivated her surged through her, causing her to snatch back her hand and quickly turn towards the door, her face hot.
‘You have a very compassionate nature,’ she heard Falcon saying as he followed her. ‘And I think you are right. Certainly as an adult it is pity I feel for my mother, rather than the despair her death caused me as a boy. She used to say that producing us was her duty and that she herself was a sacrifice.’
Annie had to fight hard not to betray her shock. Poor woman. She must have been dreadfully unhappy to have spoken to her son like that, instead of protecting him from her own unhappiness. She would never do that to Ollie. Never! She wanted him to grow up whole and happy, and free of any sense of guilt about her or about himself.
They had dinner. Warmed goat cheese with tomatoes and herbs to start with, and then a roast chicken and pasta dish that was mouthwateringly delicious.
Annie had already learned from Maria that most of the staff at the castello were local, and that their families had lived and worked on Leopardi land for countless generations—even the chef.
She had drunk another glass of wine with her meal, and now she and Falcon had finished the piping hot coffee the little maid had brought them. Although Annie had regretfully had to refuse the chocolate petit fours that had been with the coffee—not just because she was full, but because she was also feeling very nervous. All through the meal Falcon had answered her curious questions about the obviously feudal nature of the area, and the relationship between his father the old Prince and the people who looked on him almost as though he were still their ruler. Not once had he made any reference to the fact that she had not as yet given him her decision.
‘My father’s attitude towards the land and the people is feudal,’ Falcon told her now. ‘And that is a matter of great concern to me and to my brothers. We have all been fortunate in having benefited financially through our mother’s family, and we have all become financially successful in the modern world. The opportunity to live in that modern world is one I am committed to giving to our people, despite my father’s wish to keep them locked in the past. And speaking of people being locked in the past…’He stood up. ‘A walk in the gardens will, I think, help us to digest our dinner. And whilst we are walking you can give me your decision on the offer I made before I left for Florence.’
Annie’s breath escaped her lungs in a leaky gasp.
‘What is it?’ Falcon asked as she too stood up.
‘I thought that perhaps you’d changed your mind about that, and that that was why you hadn’t mentioned it,’
Annie confessed.
‘You thought or you hoped?’ he challenged her, even as his light touch—and it was merely a touch, quickly removed—guided her towards the steps that led down into the gardens.
It was darker here than it had been on the terrace. A prickle of sensation quivered over her skin. The night was full of hidden dangers—or were they hidden promises? What on earth had made her think that?
The moon, new and bright, gave off just enough light to show the outline of the mountains, silvering Leopardi land, the olive groves and the fields closer to the castello. Her son was part of all of this—but he was part of her, as well. Somewhere unseen a bird screeched, making her jump and miss a step. Instantly Falcon moved closer to catch her, one hand splayed across the middle of her back the other encircling her wrist.
Had he turned her in towards his own body or had she done that for herself? Annie didn’t know. She did know that she was acutely aware of him. She could smell the scent of his skin, its familiarity immediately transporting her back to the first time they had met.
‘Are you warm enough?’
Had he felt the rash of goosebumps that had suddenly come up under her skin? He must have done. They weren’t caused by cold, though. The evening air was wonderfully balmy and warm.
‘It’s late,’ she told him unsteadily, as she looked imploringly towards the castello.
‘Too late to change your mind,’ Falcon told her.
He had moved closer to her—much closer. They were standing face to face. One of his hands was still splayed out across her back, its firm pressure bringing her towards him, whilst the other hand…
Annie had to swallow very hard. The fingertips of the other hand were slowly stroking her bare arm in a caress that drifted from her inner wrist all the way up to her elbow. Tongues of fire licked through her veins. She was trembling openly now, completely unable to conceal her reaction to him.
She still made a brave attempt to face him down, though, reminding him shakily, ‘I haven’t given you my decision yet.’
He was so close to her that she could feel his chest shaking as he laughed. The warmth of his amusement gusted round her, his breath grazing her cheek and making her turn and lift her head as though she wanted to capture it with her lips.
‘Yes, you have,’ he corrected her. ‘You told me when I refilled your wineglass and you trembled; you told me when you looked at my mouth over dinner; just now when you shivered when I touched you. You told me then that you are ready to be aroused by me. Your body has signalled to mine its curiosity and its interest.’
Annie opened her mouth to object, to tell him that he was wrong, but the unseen bird screeched again and instead she gasped and moved closer to Falcon.
It was the wrong thing to do. His arm was encircling her now, holding her against his body, whilst her own body trembled helplessly beneath the slow caress of his fingertips on her arm.
Somehow, without her knowing what she was doing, she had gripped his other hand, curling her fingers into the muscle as she clung to him.
‘How does this feel?’ he asked her softly as his knuckles brushed her arm lightly.
‘I don’t know,’ Annie lied. But of course she did. It felt shockingly and dangerously erotic.
Beneath her dress she could feel her nipples tightening, whilst heat curled through her lower body and the insides of her thighs began to ache, the feeling there spreading from deep inside her body.
She badly wanted to close her eyes and simply lean into Falcon, so that he could hold her and caress her, those magical knowing hands of his touching all those places that were now aching for his touch.
Panic hit her and she pulled back from him. Everything that Colin had told her and warned her about suddenly flooded into her head, filling her with self disgust and shock. The woman she wanted to be and the girl she had fought relentlessly with one another for possession of her mind.
Falcon had stepped back from her, his hand holding her own as he directed her deeper still into the garden. The danger had passed and she was safe. But was safe what she really wanted to be? Hadn’t there been a moment back there—more than merely a moment—when she had been anticipating the touch of his mouth on her own with greedy longing?
‘You are a woman it is extremely easy for a man to want,’ Falcon told her.
His voice reached her out of the darkness and had her stopping, walking to turn and confront him with her emotional response.
‘You don’t have to say things like that to me. In fact, I would rather that you didn’t. I’m not a complete fool, even if I am laughably sexually inexperienced. I know perfectly well that you’re just trying to be kind and to…to boost my confidence. A man like you would never find me extremely easy to want.’
The moonlight fell directly on Falcon’s face, highlighting its sensually male structure and sending a flood surge of aching, sweet need pounding through her. What was happening to her? Whatever it was it, was happening far too fast.
‘By your own admission you know nothing about the needs and desires of my sex. Therefore you are not qualified to know that I would never find you extremely easy to want.’ Falcon swept aside her argument, his voice sharpening as he added, ‘The discovery that you have the ability to arouse me simply by doing nothing other than letting me see and feel your response to me is as unfamiliar to me as it is to you.’
‘I…I’m flattered that…that you…’
‘That I find you desirable? That being here in the moonlight with you arouses me? We must take things slowly if I am not to lose my head and thus lose my efficacy as your teacher.’
His face was shadowed and hidden from her now, but Annie could tell from his voice that he was smiling—which must mean that the eventuality to which he was referring, namely him losing his head, was simply not going to happen. And that was a relief to her. Of course it was. The last thing she wanted was for Falcon to become so aroused by their intimacy that he lost control and made proper, real passionate love to her—wasn’t it?
‘I ought to go in. I don’t like leaving Ollie on his own.’
‘Don’t worry, I asked Maria to keep an eye on him. I knew that maternal heart of yours would be anxious.’
Before Annie could thank him he continued.
‘In a week or so’s time, once you have settled in and if you are agreeable, I thought I would take a day off to show you and Oliver something of the island.’
A week or so’s time seemed a safely vague distance away, so it was easy for her to say, half shyly, ‘Thank you. I would like that.’ After all it was the truth. She would like to see something of the island.
They were deep in the garden now, hidden from the moonlight by the branches of a tree, and yet Falcon still managed to find her forehead accurately as he deposited a light kiss there, and told her, ‘Now you can relax. Because the first lesson is almost over.’
‘I just hope you don’t mean to set me any tests,’ Annie responded feelingly, in her relief, and then realised her mistake when Falcon laughed.
‘Oh, I fully intend to do that,’ he assured her. ‘And to see how much you have been paying attention to what I have been doing by getting you to repeat my caresses for you on me. But not yet.’
He was going to expect her to caress him—to send those same quivers of helpless mindless physical delight zinging through his body that he had sent through hers. Impossible!
‘There is just one thing more I intend to do tonight, before I let you escape from your instruction.’
One more thing? Annie’s head jerked towards him, and as though that was exactly what he had intended he cupped the side of her face with his palm and then stroked his thumb across her half-parted lips, brushing softly to and fro against them whilst her senses reeled and her mind slipped away, allowing her body and her sensuality to take control.
Falcon’s arm was round her, supporting her, whilst his thumb probed between her parted lips. Without even having to think about it Annie touched his thumb with th
e tip of her tongue, exploring its texture and its taste, circling it and stroking it, growing bolder as she realised how powerful it made her feel to take that control.
Lost in the excitement of what she was doing, she didn’t even realise at first that Falcon had removed his thumb and replaced it with his mouth until he started to kiss her.
There was no chance for her to deny him and no point, either. Her lips, she herself, were both already open to him, and to the raw sexuality of his kiss. He was cupping her face with both of his hands now, caressing her skin as he took the kiss deeper, his tongue probing the soft sweetness of her mouth whilst his fingers spread to her ears and the responsive area just behind them.
Annie heard herself moan into Falcon’s kiss. She felt herself writhe and then press eagerly into his body. She suffered the savaging of disappointment and a sense of loss when he removed his mouth from her own—and then was flung headlong into the sweetness of the pleasure that came when his lips caressed their way along her throat from her ear to her shoulder, and then back along her collarbone. His dark head bent over her, encouraging her to slide her fingers into the heavenly thickness of his hair.
It was like being on a roller coaster.
She could feel her heart thudding so heavily that it seemed to be beating outside her body. And then she realised that the beat she could feel drumming so hard wasn’t coming from her own heart but from Falcon’s. The sweetest pleasure and triumph pierced her, catching her off guard with its intensity. Falcon was enjoying kissing her. Her—a woman who had thought herself not a proper woman at all.
Gratitude and exhilaration filled her, but was quickly forgotten when Falcon kissed her again, taking her mouth and covering it with his own, finding her tongue and teasing it into an erotically intimate dance with his own whilst his hands moved down over her body, his palms just skimming her breasts.
Immediately Annie tensed, her delight in the moment broken by the sharpness of her sudden recognition that things were moving too fast.