Treasured Lies (30 page)

‘As you didn't share the last one, I helped myself to a chocolate. Delicious.'

She grinned at him. ‘So was mine.'

The heat between her legs became a smoking hot furnace as he walked towards her with a handful of strawberries, the bowl of whipped cream and a full-blown erection. He knelt at her side, placed the strawberries on her stomach and when he ran his tongue over his lips he stole the breath from her throat. She wanted him to stay right there, basking in all his sun-drenched nakedness for all eternity.

‘So, my lovely, I'm going to show you how strawberries and cream should be done.'

Rosalina had pretty much combined these two ingredients every which way possible and yet she was certain Archer was about to show her something new.

‘Want to try one?' His voice was so husky she barely recognised it.

She swallowed. ‘Sure.'

He selected one of the strawberries and held it towards her. She opened her mouth, and half expecting some kind of trick she quickly sunk her teeth into the juicy fruit, biting it right in half.

Archer laughed. ‘Hungry, are we?' The remaining half of the ripe red fruit he brought to her breast. He touched the cool fruit from one nipple to the next, circling her now almost bursting buds and then dabbing the very tip. Despite his delicate touch, the sensation drove pulses that started at her nipples and ended with a delightful shiver between her legs.

Archer leant forward and licked each breast clean. When he finished he sat back. ‘And?' His eyes shone.

She shrugged and it took all her might to keep a straight face. ‘That was nice.'

Archer muffled a deep, throaty laugh. ‘Nice! Righty ho, then.'

Rosalina chewed on her bottom lip as she watched Archer. She could almost see his mind working in overdrive. He grabbed another strawberry and this time he dipped it into the cream.

Using the strawberry as a brush and her body as the canvas, he spread the cream over her nipples, and when he was done, he ate the strawberry and then proceeded to lick the cream off. He started with the breast closest to him, capturing the nipple in his mouth and sucking until her bud was completely clean. When he leant over to sample her other breast, she gasped as his hand slipped between her legs and entered her hot zone.

Rosalina curled beneath him, sending the strawberries on her belly scattering as he plunged into her with agonising tenderness. She rode the explosive orgasm that had been building within her for what seemed like a decade.

When she opened her eyes, Archer was smiling at her, his eyes ablaze with satisfaction.

‘That was much better,' she said through gasping breath.

Archer stood up and with purpose he moved to the end of the lounge. He stared at her naked body for a long delicious moment. She wanted him now and he could take every little piece of her; her mind, her body, her soul.

She spread her legs further apart and it was the only invitation he needed. Archer climbed on top and as his erection nudged her opening, he kissed her like they'd never kissed before. Their tongues probed each other's mouth, tasting, licking, exploring. He pulled back and wriggled onto his knees and with his eyes lingering on hers, he slid his fingers into her and once again took her over the edge of explosive bliss.

He lay back on top of her, pushed up on his hands so his chest hovered above her and his gold pendant toyed with her nipples. When he entered her, he filled her so perfectly that her breath hitched in her throat. Archer rode her, gently at first, thrusting in and out with measured control as she scratched her fingernails down his back. His eyes had glazed, slipping into a world of bliss, and she squeezed his nipples until he gasped and his eyes returned to her.

His mouth found hers and she sucked on his tongue. Soon measured control was gone, replaced instead with hard, rapid thrusting. When her hot juices released, he cried out as he too released. She ran her fingers up and down his back until he couldn't thrust any more.

He fell onto her chest and they stayed as one for a very long time.

She ran her fingers through his head of unruly curls. ‘You know I'm never going to look at an antipasto platter the same again.'

He chuckled. ‘Me neither.'

Chapter 31

With each passing day Nox's wounds improved. As he surveyed his injuries, something he did every morning, he realised the bruises that had dominated almost every part of his body when he arrived here had mellowed from as dark as a stormy sky, to light purple and yellow stains. He flexed the fingers of his pierced hand. It was wrapped in a clean bandage and still very sore, but it was a relief to have any movement at all. It looked like the wound would heal completely, hopefully without any lasting effects. He couldn't believe how lucky he was. He could've lost part of his hand in that fall. That time with the weird twins already seemed like a distant nightmare. He shuddered at the memory.

From his comfortable bed Nox had a window view of a healthy garden in the foreground, a lush green paddock in the middle and the dark blue ocean in the very distance. Over the last couple of days he'd been quite happy just to lie there and watch the woman and the two kids through the glass pane. Every day the mother tended to her herbs and vegetables with as much care and attention as he'd witnessed firsthand on his body. While around her the boys played all sorts of games, from running, skipping and hiding, to little cars that they drove in and out of the garden until their mother shooed them off with a smile on her face.

It was a glimpse at family life that Nox had never seen before. Being abandoned at an orphanage and then transferred to the church to be in Father Benedici's care at twelve meant Nox had never witnessed, let alone experienced, how a real family behaved. He was mesmerised. It was the calmness that he found fascinating. As if the world travelled in a slower gear here. Drifting along without stress or burden.

He wanted this. He wanted to know what it was like to wake up happy and content and go to bed feeling the same way. Darius, the dark-haired boy, was the older of the two. From what Nox could tell he was also the leader, constantly telling Arion how things were done. Nox didn't know if he had siblings, although that memory, the one where he watched the woman spin around with the child in her arms, always made him wonder if that were his mother and brother. He will never know. Nox had no intention of ever tracking down his family. When he was rich and famous and dripping with the Calimala gold, if they ever came calling, he'd find a way to make them suffer for abandoning him. Of that he was certain.

One of the red jewels in his ring glistened in the sun and he rolled the ring around so all three blood red jewels twinkled at him. Nox slipped the ring off his finger and rested it on the windowsill. Its red glow was magical in this sunlight. The ring represented a turning point in his life. The point of no return. His thoughts drifted from his mushroom poison, to the first poison he'd ever used to kill Sofia, the stupid girl who had inflamed both unbridled arousal and burning hatred in him. He had killed her slowly.

He'd found the perfect poison for her. Arsenic. It is colourless, odourless and tasteless and readily available in an orphanage practically overrun with rats and mice. And perfect to sprinkle on Sofia's toothbrush in the most minute of doses. Having unlimited access to the church and the adjoining orphanage meant he could walk the halls unchecked whenever he wanted. And the secret passages and discrete spy holes ensured he could do it without fear of being discovered. Nox wanted Sofia to suffer. To watch her declining health was outstanding revenge. She gradually grew weak and pale. Her hair fell out in clumps and the beautiful Sofia was no longer pretty.

She was a fighter, though, and when she fell into a coma she stayed there for months. Nox even had the chance to visit her bedside. He held her hand and as he looked at the weird striations running across her fingernails he told her everything. Although she didn't move, he was certain she heard every word he said, because she died the very next day. It took eight months from that first sprinkle to her final gasp. Along the way Nox learnt that he could be very patient. It was worth every ticking second.

The other spectacular spinoff was setting up one of Sofia's boyfriends, Raffaele, for her murder. Nox knew all along that eventually arsenic poisoning would be identified as the cause of death. His tapes with Raffaele and Sofia having sex, in addition to the box of rat poison they found hidden in his cupboard, were enough to ensure he was found guilty of murder. Nox had no idea if Raffaele even lasted the twelve years he was committed to. But he'd loved every minute of watching the trial and it was either by serendipity or a grand plan that Nox caught Raffaele's eye several times during his darkest hours. It was gratifying to know Raffaele suffered greatly.

The second boy who had belittled him had become one of Nox's trusted cohorts. Not by choice. Another tape showing Brother Bonito with Sofia in several disgusting sex acts was enough to ensure his silence for life. Nox wondered where the pathetic priest was now. The last time he'd seen him was when Nox had fired a couple of shots at the man. But Bonito had been in a boat speeding away from him at the time and Nox was quite certain he hadn't hit him.

Nox tried to picture what Bonito would have done when he returned to Italy. Would he go crawling to the
polizi
and tell them all about Nox? Or the treasure? Nox didn't think so. Bonito had done too many wayward things at Nox's bidding, several of them criminal.

A knock on the door dragged him from his mental drifting. It was the boys, both smiling and completely oblivious to the murderer they were looking at. Nox didn't smile back at them, he'd learnt a long time ago that his yellowed teeth scared people off. ‘
Ciao
.'

The boys waved him forward with childish glee. He stood up, put his ring back on and went to them. Each boy grabbed one of his hands and they dragged him outside, chatting excitedly in a language Nox couldn't comprehend.

He stepped into the sunlight and the three of them sidestepped along the gravel path that bordered the house. The boys led him through the garden Nox had been viewing from his window for days. He was deliriously happy just to be holding hands with these two innocent children. It wasn't until they arrived at the top of a hill that he saw their mother. She was seated on the grass beside what looked like an old wooden wheelbarrow. But it was tilted at a tragic angle, clearly broken.

The boys ran on ahead and Nox followed. When he arrived at her side, the mother raised her hand in a gesture that said ‘help me up'. Nox did, and was actually eager to assist. With animated hand signals and with much undecipherable talking, she indicated that she would lift the fully loaded wheelbarrow, while Nox was to push the wheel back on. ‘Okay,' she said. It was the only word he recognised.

‘Okay.' He nodded.

It was fascinating to watch her lift the barrow, she was all bosoms and brute strength as she simply bent her knees and lifted. Nox dashed in and wriggled the heavy wooden wheel into place. ‘Okay,' he said. And the second he stepped back she lowered it with leisurely ease.

She smiled and patted his shoulder in appreciation. Without any fanfare, she gathered the handles, lifted the barrow and began pushing it up the hill. With each step she took, her enormous derriere shifted like two individual land masses and Nox, mesmerised by the glorious sight, couldn't shake his eyes from them.

The two boys giggled at him and embarrassed at being caught, Nox raced after her.

‘Let me do that,' Nox said as he reached her side.

She shook her head, as if understanding what he was saying. Nox moved to the front of the barrow so she literally couldn't move. For the first time in his life he actually wanted to help someone and do manual labour. It was a miracle.

She stopped, put the barrow down and grinned so wide her eyes disappeared beneath her chubby cheeks. As she rubbed her left palm over her right, she shook her head with a worried frown. Nox's stomach fluttered when he realised she was concerned about his injured palm. He squeezed his fingers to make a fist, showing her he was fine. Then he sidled up beside her and gently nudged her aside. Using his bandaged hand he gave her the thumbs up signal, then he indicated for her to go on ahead. Because with her in front not only could he watch her bulging bottom, he could also avoid any humiliation if he started to struggle.

He lifted the handles and was horrified at how heavy it was. Regardless, he trudged forward. Within a very short amount of time he was puffing for breath and sweat tickled the hairs on his lower back. Occasionally, the woman would turn to him and he forced a nod and a grin and pushed on even harder. It took momentous effort to reach the top. But he couldn't stop there. After a brief rest he gathered the handles and began the trudge down the hill. The whole time he was pushing it, when he wasn't watching the woman and her two children, he was wondering where the man about the house was. Clearly there was a man, or at least there once had been, as Nox was now wearing his clothes. The woman had opened her closet to him and each day Nox helped himself to a clean set of garments that fitted him like they were his very own.

With relief he finally reached flat ground and he followed her to the edge of the garden where she indicated for him to tip the gravel at the end of the path. Sweat dribbled down his temples like that of a nervous confessor. Determined not to fail, Nox put everything he had into it. He bent his knees, put his hands on the underside of the barrow's handles and drove upwards. His heart pounded. He struggled for breath. But he did it. The grateful look on her face stirred little butterflies in his stomach. Nox wished he could talk to her, but maybe it was better this way.

Nox patted his chest. ‘Nox,' he said and opened his palm to her. ‘What is your name?'

She nodded. ‘Ophelia.'

He patted his chest again as he caught his breath. ‘Nox,' he said again then he pointed at the blond boy. ‘Arion.' Then he indicated to the dark-haired child. ‘Darius.' Then he met eyes with her. ‘Ophelia.'