Still Falling

by Costa, Bella

  Although she could have just taken a more direct route through the well maintained gardens, crisscrossed with paved pathways, which stretched for nearly twelve acres between the large Tuscan styled mansion and the drop down to the private beach, she had no wishes to confront Marco if he was up and about. She lay back and closed her eyes. The sand was still cool and the tension drained from her like an ebb tide.

  The smell of sandalwood stirred her senses. Unexpected warmth radiated through her upper body and thighs and she adjusted her head slightly to breath in more of the heady fragrance. Suddenly her mind went into overdrive and panic threatened to overwhelm her. She remembered lying back on the beach and must have drifted off. Her eyes flew open. Dark, almost black eyes, framed with thick, long lashes looked down at her and her already racing heart sped up one more notch.

  “So you’re not in a coma after all?” the owner of the dark molten pools whispered.

  There are dangerous, dark places in those eyes.

  “Put me down!” she said, her voice unsteady.

  He lowered her feet gently to the ground. Serena swayed unsteadily and a gentle hand pulled her body against his for support. Nerve endings flashed dangerously throughout the length of her form and her legs turned instantly to mush. And still she couldn’t break her eyes away from those eyes.

  Chemo is going to the brain. I wasn’t warned about this.

  Moments of weakness and fatigue were one of the effects she had been warned of, and she silently cursed that she should have one now in front of Marco.

  “I’m fine.” She said finally tearing her eyes away. She noticed that he had carried her almost all the way to her mother’s cottage.

  “You are far from fine and you know it!” his voice still low but threatening. “So let me guess. The lover you are shacking up with, in Milan, found out that you’re pregnant, couldn’t handle it and kicked you out so you’ve come running home to Mommy. To make matters worse, you still having late nights and now I found you passed out on my beach?” His face was dark with disapproval and the condescension in his voice, unmistakeable.

  “How dare you!” she hissed. She wasn’t sure if it was shock or anger, or maybe both, but the adrenaline gave her the boost of energy she needed to pull out of his grasp and storm into the cottage slamming the door. Surprisingly, without falling flat on her face.

  Marco had followed and now stood staring at the slammed door for several minutes, his face unreadable. Watching him angrily through thick net curtains, Serena couldn’t help notice how much he had aged in the last four years and yet strangely, he was more attractive now than he had ever been.

  His face could have been used as the model for many of the classical Greek sculptures, his nose too perfect for the typical Roman sculptures of the same era. His broad shoulders contrasted with his narrow waist and hips and he moved with athletic grace. Now as he stood staring at the cottage door, he stood tall and commanding and dangerous. A man who knows exactly what he wants.

  Sweet lord was he always this hot?

  He finally turned and stalked off to the main house and Serena realised she had been holding her breath.

  “Stupid woman!” she muttered out loud. “He’s uncouth and repulsive!”

  Somewhat shakily, Serena readied herself to go flat hunting on the island.

  Chapter six

  Marco stood in the long, early morning shadows. He hadn’t come down here with the intention of spying on Serena, even though he felt slightly guilty of doing just that. There was no way he could have known she would be here. Besides this was private property. His private property.

  He often stood on the flat rock, at the edge of the garden. Over the last few years he had started coming down here to survey the beach and surf while the sun went down and would spend a lot of morning here as well, mentally preparing for the day ahead.

  One of his attempted lovers had teased him, about being the lord of the castle surveying his lands. He wasn’t sure what the real reason was, that he came down here most evenings, but it was an urge that was easier to give into. He knew if he fought the urge he would be restless for much of the evening.

  After seeing Serena on the beach last night, sleep had been a long time in coming and he had needed the fresh air to clear his mind before facing the day ahead. This morning, when he’d arrived he’d been relieved to find the beach empty. It wasn’t long though, before the faint, unseasonable smell of Jasmine had permeated the sea breeze. He searched for its source and his eyes found it walking along the rocky path leading in rough hewn steps, down to the beach, well below the natural platform he stood on.

  “Serena.” He had whispered.

  He had allowed himself to take in every visible inch of her as she moved quietly onto the sand and sank down. She was even thinner than he had realised. He had realised last night in the fading light that she had lost weight, but didn’t realise quite how much.

  Frowning as he sipped on his coffee, now lukewarm. Marco wondered why women felt they needed to look like rakes. He had been insisting for years that his designers not use models under a size 10. When they objected he reminded them that they were designing for real woman. If the design only looked good on a rake then the design had failed.

  He had always thought Serena was a little more down to earth as a person and far more sensible. Not the type to fall into the dieting trap. He cursed himself for letting his thoughts turn back to Serena again. Every time he had tried to focus on something, she crept into his thoughts. By the time he had finished his coffee, he was sure that Serena had fallen asleep.

  He watched for a while and started growing concerned when the ground keepers Labrador found her, giving her slobbering kisses. She still didn’t move.

  He made his way down to the beach and paused before approaching her, not sure if he should be interfering or not.

  “Damn.” He growled under his breath. This was his property, his beach and she was trespassing. He had every right to interfere.

  Serena still lay in the same position as before. Her hair sprayed out around her head like an auburn mist and her skin was unusually pale like milk. She was dressed for the cooler autumn weather in a soft fitted v-neck sweater which showed her long slender neck beautifully and rust wool skirt which met her soft suede boots just below the knee.

  As always, she was unadorned with jewellery and makeup. Serena had never needed either, possessing a natural beauty that did not go unnoticed by passing men and even a lot of women.

  “Serena.” He called softly. Nothing. With a slight frown he called her name again. Nothing.

  Kneeling down beside her he stroked her face, running the soft pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. Her skin was warm and silky but nothing stirred. Not even the eyes moved under the eyelids. He didn’t need to check her pulse. It was the first thing he had noticed when he knelt. It fluttered in the little hollow at the base of her neck, matching his own as he stared.

  More than a little worried now, he lifted her into a sitting position before picking her up into his arms. Carefully he carried her over the uneven ground and up the rock steps to the gardens and cut across the large expanse of lawn and flower beds to the cottage.

  When her eyelids eventually fluttered the relief was enormous and he couldn’t help but stare into her soft brown eyes, flecks of gold pulsing in the morning light. Resentment bubbled to the surface, sinking the relief he had felt at her waking. This was the woman who had hurt him. He wasn’t sure where the cruel words came from but seeing the pain it caused her felt slightly satisfying. At least it did momentarily. He watched her slam the door and wondered if perhaps he should demand an explanation for everything that happed four years earlier. He felt he deserved it. He eventually decided against it and went back to the house. He had a fashion show to plan and a business to run. Serena had no place in his life anymore.

  Chapter seven

  Serena hadn’t had much luck finding a room at the Marina and had returned to the cottage determined th
at she would try the mainland the following day. It wasn’t perfect but she would only be a ferry ride away from her mother. That afternoon, while her mother prepared dinner and she read through a list of emails from Josephine and her colleagues, there was a knock at the door. It was Marco. Her eyes flashed daggers at the sight of him.

  “What do you want?”

  “It’s time for your walk, isn’t it? I can’t have women passing out all over the estate at all times of the day and night. It might ruin my reputation. I’ll just have to keep you company until you are back home safe and sound.”

  “I can look after myself. I don’t need any favours from you Marco!” she growled and shut the door firmly in his face. She leaned against the door and closed her eyes.

  Arrrrrgggg!

  She tried to hear his retreating footsteps through the thick solid oak of the heavy door. After what seemed like forever, Serena felt sure he had gone and slid down the polished wood of the door to plant her backside firmly on the floor.

  “I so do not need this right now!” she muttered to the empty hallway. She hadn’t planned on taking her walk but his cheek had brought out the rebellious side to her. Quickly kissing her mother on the cheek she slipped out and skirted the expansive garden to the beach. She was more than a little out of breath when she stumbled down the last section of the rocky path onto the sand.

  “Well Marco Spinozzi, you are not my boss anymore!” She giggled. Her run in with Marco and the extra long walk around the expanse of garden rather than through it had worn her out. She hoped now that she could make it back, considering that she would have the incline to deal with as well. It was a sobering thought.

  “Oh no...” Was all she managed to say as a wave of dizziness overcame her and the world went black.

  The first thing Serena noticed was the silence. She tenderly opened her eyes. The light was muted and her eyes adjusted easily. Feeling slightly disoriented, she examined her surroundings. The large wood panelled room was very masculine. To her left large chest of drawers sat against the wall next to an ornate wooden door. A beautiful simple framed painting of the estates beach during a violent storm took pride of place above a small empty stone fire place on the other side of the doorway. Subconsciously she noted that the choice of simple frame suited the painting perfectly as a carved gilt frame would have distracted from the raw energy of the painting itself.

  In front of her another ornate doorway allowed soft lighting to spill from the room beyond and this followed onto a bank of built in closet doors. On the right hand side of the room, heavy floor length brocade drapes shut out any light that might be trying to fight through from the windows she was sure must be hiding behind.

  Rising up around her four very solid looking, carved wooden posts rose up from the large bed she found herself on. The thick soft pillows and plush duvet cradled her like a mother cradles a baby and she felt warm and safe.

  Very nice. Ten more minutes.

  Still not fully in the land of the living, she snuggled her head deeper into the pillow and breathed in deeply in preparation for a contented sigh. The pillow smelled distinctly of fabric softener and …….Sandalwood. She bolted upright.

  “Shit.” She muttered now fully awake.

  A second later she let out a small screech when she realised she was dressed only in her underwear and an oversized T-shirt that clearly wasn’t hers under the soft duvet.

  “Lie back down before you pass out again!” Marco appeared in the doorway where the light spilled from. His face looked murderous. “I have sent for your mother and the doctor. Until they arrive you are my responsibility and you will stay put.”

  “I’m fine,” she whimpered, “Just tired. Let me go home.” She was still shaking off the last threads of fog in her mind.

  “I can’t understand how any man can be so self-centred to leave a woman in your condition to fend for herself.” The words were almost spat out. “And as for you.........you could have died out there tonight! How could you be so stubborn and so incredibly stupid?”

  Chapter eight

  Stunned by his outburst and still flustered at waking in a strange place, Serena broke down and sobbed uncontrollably. It was inevitable. Since the doctors had sat her down and told her she had cancer, she had been calm and ‘matter of fact’ about the whole thing. She had wondered when the full impact would overwhelm her. Did she have to lose control now though? Her sobs were so racking she couldn’t even talk.

  Marco was with her in two long strides. The bed shifted slightly as he sat down and pulled her into his arms.

  “Quite Pocco Zucco. Your mother will be here soon. You are safe now. You just need to let me look after you.” He whispered into her long auburn tresses. Before she could object, Serena slipped back into unconsciousness.

  Marco had been slightly amused at her fiery temper when she slammed the door in his face. He did deserve it though. None the less, he knew she would go for her walk with or without him and he had suspected the later was the most probable. As usual, he had been right. He had spotted her moving quietly along the edge of the gardens while discussing the Estates storm preparations with the groundkeeper.

  Whilst he had expected her to be stubborn, he didn’t think she would be stupid enough to stay there long with storm surge already pushing the tide along the shore higher than usual. The skies were still clear and the wind had not picked up yet but that could and would change very quickly as the pending storm blew in.

  Satisfied that the groundkeeper had everything under control, Marco had wandered over to the rocky platform to make sure that Serena had left and the beach was clear. He had been horrified to find her lying on the sand with the rising tide pulling at her canvas boating shoes. By the time he had made his way down to the sand the sweeping waves were pushing up past her waist, totally saturating her jeans and most of her baggy fisherman knit jersey.

  His heart had fluttered in his chest like a wild bird in a trapped cage. A quick check had confirmed that she was still breathing and her pulse felt strong, so gathering her skeletal frame into his arms he had made his way up to the house. His relief when she had woken up had been immense, but not enough to pacify his anger at the bastard who had left her in this condition. Whilst she hadn’t actually admitted being pregnant, her tears had been confirmation enough.

  Now sitting on the bed cradling her, he pondered their future. Every fibre in his body wanted to protect her, wipe away her pain. He was even prepared to raise the child as his own, if only she would stop running every time he tried to talk to her. He longed for her to smile at him in the cheeky way she used to. He kissed the top of her head, taking in the smell of shampoo and sea lingered there. Her sobs had eased and her breathing returned to normal so he lay her head back down on the pillow.

  For years he had imagined how she would look in this very spot. He had hoped that when he finally made her his, it would be here in his bed. He smiled bashfully, remembering how he had ended up making love to her on the recliner in the sun room, surrounded by orchids instead. The bedroom had just been too far away.

  “Why did you run?” he whispered. “Damn. Where is everyone?” He looked at the bedside clock for the hundredth time. He had phoned the doctor and Mrs. Taylor ages ago.

  Two of his models had gone through pregnancy whilst trying to remain skeletal. The two had tried keeping their pregnancy a secret at first had regularly fainted giving everyone at work quite a scare. Marco had been so angry when he found out that the girls would risk their health and their babies health by starving themselves that he had insisted they eat at least two of their daily meals supervised and had supervision for at least an hour and half after those meals to make sure the food stayed down. After calming down he had asked the team to launch a maternity range for that season.

  He looked at Serena, pale and gaunt. He hoped he was wrong, but this seemed worse than the symptoms his models had experienced. They would only pass out for a few second or so. Serena had earlier been out cold for alm
ost an hour.

  “Well you’re in the right place now. If anyone will get you eating properly it’s your mother and I will help you as much as you will allow me to.” He whispered, gently moving stray lock of hair from her face.

  Hearing footsteps on the stairs he rose to greet Serena’s mother and the family doctor. Giving a quick update, Marco left them to attend to Serena and went down stairs to make a few overdue business calls.

  Chapter nine

  It was a good hour later when Serena’s mother patted her hand, as she rose to leave.

  “You will be just fine here in the main house. The doctor will arrange for some medication to be delivered in the morning and I will check up on you when I come in to work in the morning. You should be grateful Marco found you when he did. The tides are extra high tonight and the storm is pretty fierce.”

  “Mama please…”

  “Shush now and go to sleep. There is some soup downstairs for later which Marco had offered to warm up for you.” With that her mother left.

  Serena looked around for her clothes. Nothing!

  “Damn!” she muttered. Climbing out of the bed she studied the large T-shirt she had woken up in. Compliments of Marco she guessed. She flushed a little at the realisation that it was neither the Doctor, nor her mother who had undressed her. She now had one more thing to resent Marco for. At least she still had her underwear but between that and the T-shirt, she had very little to keep her modesty preserved.

  Thank heavens I shaved.

  She listened out for the sound of movement in the house but all she could hear was soft ticking of a clock and a gale blowing up outside. There had been no hint of a storm when she had gone to the beach but gales often arrived at the island with little notice. She rose from the bed and crossed over to the wardrobe. With only a quick glance inside, she didn’t notice the flash of white under a dust cover at the end of the rail.