Treasured Secrets (8 page)

She stopped to face him. The moonlight gave her a heavenly glow. Her parted lips were a delicious shade of fuchsia and it took all his resolve not to kiss her. ‘Thank you for finally telling me.'

He bent to wrap his arms around her and held her body against him. Her smell, a subtle blend of vanilla and citrus, was so damn sexy. Her warm breath on his neck set his thoughts into erotic overdrive and every ounce of him wanted her, but once he started he wouldn't be able to stop. Rosalina deserved the best and he could only offer her half a man. He could never love unconditionally and he couldn't live every day wondering if it was going to be their last. He'd resist his desires and once the mystery of the pendant was solved, he'd let her go. She deserved her freedom. Archer kissed her, almost melted into her being, but before he tipped over the edge he pulled back.

‘Come on, it's late.'

He led her to the villa back door. His breath hitched when she looked up at him. Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight and when she blinked it was like it was in slow motion. Or maybe he was just savouring every second he had with her again. She reached up and kissed him. A very brief touch of their lips.

‘Goodnight, Archer.' She turned, and as she walked from him her gown did little to hide the luscious curves that lay beneath that fine silk.

***

The next day, Archer woke with the sun on his legs and the warmth gave him a good feeling about the day ahead, something he hadn't felt in a bloody long time. He slipped out from beneath the covers and stumbled into the bathroom. Archer blinked at the mirror. His eyes were as red as they were sore. He chose to blame the redness squarely on the plane flight. He hated flying and preferred a boat any day.

When the shower water turned hot, he stepped in, placed his forehead against the cold tiles, and let the warmth run down his back. Even with a replay of last night running through his mind, he still couldn't believe he'd told Rosalina about his past.

As he towel-dried himself he strolled to the bedroom, but the smell of breakfast cooking had him dressed in a flash and heading down the gravel path to the villa.

He peeked through the window and spied Rosalina sitting at a table, nursing her coffee mug. It was her standard morning pose and until now he hadn't realised how much he'd missed it. He could sit and watch her morning routine for hours. So damn sexy. Reluctantly, he tapped on the window. Her smile lit up her face and it was the greeting he'd been hoping for. No, it was better than that, a thousand times better.

She opened the door and her intense cornflower-blue eyes struck him. He'd missed them. Hell, he'd missed every incredible facet of this beautiful Italian woman. It took all his might not to pull her into his arms and kiss her.

‘Did you get back to sleep?' She went straight to the coffee machine and began preparing a fresh cup of brewed coffee.

‘Slept right through till just now.'

‘That's good. I've made a batch of corn fritters. Would you like some?'

He laughed. She'd cringe if she found out what he'd been eating for the past eight months. A simple boiled egg would be a step up in comparison. Just the sound of corn fritters had his mouth salivating. ‘Yes please.' He pulled back one of the heavy chairs and sat so he could watch her work her magic. The flowers he'd given her were now arranged in a large crystal vase at the end of the table. He was glad she hadn't thrown them in the bin. As far as he was concerned, it was a good sign.

The fritters looked as perfect as the meals on the front cover of one of those fancy
Gourmet
magazines Rosalina used to leave lying around. She'd topped the fritters with a fried egg, tomato relish — no doubt homemade — a healthy serve of sliced avocado and a scattering of herbs she'd twisted off the plants in the kitchen window. Archer wondered if he'd woken up in heaven.

They ate the meal in relative silence. Neither of them brought up last night.

‘What are you doing today?' She stood and reached for her empty plate. ‘I'm off to work in half an hour. I can drop you at the train station, if you wish.'

He stood up and reached for her arm. ‘Can't you take the day off?'

She shook her head. ‘It took me too long to get this job. I can't afford to lose it.'

‘I was hoping you'd take me to the church.'

She slipped out of his grasp. ‘Maybe later.' She frowned. ‘Meet me at Café Acquacotta at three.' She scribbled the address on a slip of paper. ‘Here.' She shoved the paper in his hand, then turned his shoulders and practically shoved him out the kitchen door.

Archer made his way back to his cottage, fell onto the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Rosalina's beautiful breakfast sat heavy in his stomach. It was the biggest and definitely the most delicious meal he'd had since she'd last cooked for him.

He'd eaten more than he needed though, and it took all his might to get out of the bed again. Archer threw his phone into his pocket and headed to the car. With the key in the ignition, he pressed the button to roll the top down. He put his glasses on and cruised down the driveway. Three roads led out of Signa. He chose one at random. Soon he was winding his way through Tuscany's chequerboard pastures yet, despite the wind in his hair and the relaxing drive, he struggled to drag his mind away from Rosalina. She was a fascinating woman, but being with her was dangerous. He needed to be strong, for her sake.

With carefree meandering, he found himself at the medieval town of Siena. He parked the car at the base of the cliff, and rather than using the crowded elevator to reach the top, he tackled the stairs. It was a decision that had his knee in throbbing agony by the time he reached the piazza. While he did admire the medieval character of the surrounding buildings, he refrained from visiting any of them. Instead, he chose the nearest restaurant, sat at a small round table and ordered Bistecca alla Fiorentina with a glass of local red wine. Crowds of tourists explored the hilltop village around him and he prayed he'd never look as ludicrous as some of them did. The rare T-bone steak was delightfully rich and so tender he barely needed his knife to cut it. Whilst it was excellent, the dish still didn't have a patch on the one Rosalina had made for him once. The hours slipped by quickly and when it was time to go, he was once again consumed with the prospect of meeting Rosalina.

As per her earlier suggestion, he parked his car at Villa Pandolfini and walked to the train station. The train ride into Florence was just fifteen minutes and then Archer fell in amongst the crowds to follow Rosalina's hand-drawn lines on the map through the bustling streets of the ancient city. A few minutes before three o'clock, he chose a wrought-iron chair at the front of Café Acquacotta, and within seconds Rosalina served him a basket of bread and a beer. Her hair was up in a high ponytail that swung as she walked away. She looked gorgeous without even trying.

The crowds passing by were a crazy mix of tourists and locals who were worlds apart. Locals took strides of purpose, apparently no longer seeing their historical surroundings. Tourists, laden with cameras and packs, strolled along taking photos of the most random things and checking out the stalls lining the narrow paved street.

Archer spied Alessandro walking towards the café and readied to say hello. But the Italian bypassed him without a glance and went straight inside. Archer's eyes burned a hole in Alessandro's back as he watched him kiss and hug Rosalina as a girlfriend and boyfriend would. Rosalina blushed and cast a quick glance in his direction. She offered Alessandro a basket of bread and pointed out Archer.

Alessandro turned and actually looked pleased to see him. He came out and shook Archer's hand. ‘Ah, Archer.
Va bene?
' He seemed oblivious to the awkward situation he was in. It was strange that a man would be comfortable with an ex-boyfriend being back on the scene. Either Alessandro was very confident in his relationship with Rosalina, or he had no idea how serious they'd been.

‘How was your day?' Alessandro raised one dark, bushy eyebrow. ‘Where'd you go?'

Archer took a gulp of his beer and shrugged. ‘I took a drive. Ended up in one of those — what do you call them — fortified towns.'

‘Oh, lovely. Which one, Monteriggioni? San Gimignano? Siena?'

Archer clicked his fingers. ‘Siena.'

Alessandro gaped at him with a how-the-hell-do-you-not-know look. ‘So what did you do there? Sightseeing?'

‘Not much.' He shrugged. ‘Sat at a table in the city centre, ordered a meal, watched tourists walk by.'

Alessandro's mouth fell open. ‘You mean the piazza. It's one of Tuscany's tourism highlights. Did you visit the Duomo?'

Archer was beginning to feel like a student being grilled by a frustrated teacher. ‘The what?'

‘The Duomo. It's considered to be one of Italy's most impressive cathedrals.'

Archer glanced about for Rosalina. He needed saving. ‘No, I didn't do any sightseeing.'

‘You would have passed it to get to the piazza. The entire façade looks like it's decorated with marble icing?' Alessandro raised both his eyebrows this time, and Archer thought if he raised them any higher his eyes might pop right out of his head.

Archer shrugged. ‘I didn't really look around much. I was just killing time.'

‘You should look around.' Alessandro shook his head. ‘Some of the most beautiful things in the world are often right in front of you.'

With perfect timing, Rosalina slipped into the chair between them. The coincidence of her arrival was obviously not lost on Alessandro as he locked eyes with Archer. A silent battle brewed between them, but it was Alessandro who was the ultimate winner when he placed his palm over Rosalina's hand. Archer kept his seething at bay.

‘So what have you boys been talking about?' Rosalina shared her gaze evenly between the two men, and Archer thought if she kept it up, she might keel over with dizziness.

‘Archer was telling me about his little visit to Siena.'

‘Oh, lovely,' she said.

‘Well, it would have been lovely, except he failed to partake in any sightseeing.'

‘Don't worry. I'll do plenty of sightseeing. Rosalina's showing me around now.' Her eyes shot to him and Archer instantly regretted his statement. But it was too late.

‘
Per favore
, allow me to be your guide.' Alessandro's eyes were alight as he leant forward on his chair. ‘I know practically every brick and piece of artwork in the entire city.'

‘Well, um, we're only going to the Church of St Apostoli.' Archer knew there was no backing out now. Rosalina's clenched jaw and rolling eyes told Archer she was just as disappointed as he was that Alessandro would be joining them. They were stuck with him now.

Their stroll from the café took them through the Piazza della Signoria, a bustling L-shaped square surrounded by ancient buildings and cafés, all overflowing and, no doubt, overpriced.

‘This is one of the most significant public places in Florence.' Alessandro was like an air traffic controller as he pointed out various buildings, and with an obvious photographic memory, detailed the years the building construction began and ended. In addition to that, he also knew the year each building was renovated or, in some cases, completely rebuilt. He made the history and fascinating snippets relating to it sound so exciting that it wasn't long before Archer actually found himself enjoying the tour.

‘Here's the Palazzo Vecchio, or in your terms, the Town Hall. See the crenulated roof line?'

Archer looked up at the roof, not a view he would've remotely considered if Alessandro hadn't insisted. It looked like something you'd see on a medieval castle.

‘Impressive,
sì
?'

Archer smiled, but the charm wasn't anywhere near as exciting for him as it was for the grinning Alessandro.

The Italian pointed out an endless array of buildings, places that apparently Archer had to see while he was here in Florence. Alessandro flung his arm to the right. ‘Oh let's go via the Ponte Vecchio; you'll love it. It's one of the oldest bridges in Firenze. It's still an amazing hive of activity.'

Alessandro was so excited, half the time Archer couldn't tell if he was speaking English or Italian.

‘Maybe some other time, Alex. Could you just take us to that church?'

Alessandro frowned. ‘But there are many, many other
affascinante
buildings worthy of a mention.'

‘Maybe later.' Archer held Alessandro's gaze until the Italian shrugged and his stature shrunk somewhat. Alessandro offered his palm forward, indicating the new direction they should travel.

They strolled along Florence's narrow cobblestone streets and Alessandro continued to bombard them with the history and quirky facts about each and every building they passed.
The bricks were shipped in from such and such, so and so died here
…but Archer was more concerned with Rosalina. She was quiet and reserved, two qualities rarely displayed by this beautiful Italian woman. Occasionally she glanced sideways at Archer and was clearly uncomfortable being sandwiched between her current boyfriend and her ex.

They arrived at the Piazza Del Limbo and Alessandro explained the significance of the cemetery as they approached the church. ‘Oh, Rosa, I didn't mention that an earthquake severely damaged the church in 1348. See this brickwork?' He pointed to a jagged row of bricks at the side of the building. ‘These are the original bricks and these…' He indicated further along. ‘These are the new ones…see?'

Archer watched Rosalina follow Alessandro's finger. He couldn't decide if she was interested or not, but when she turned towards him and rolled her eyes, he stifled a laugh.

Alessandro continued the tour with Rosalina and Archer following him through the doorway into the Church of St Apostoli. Archer had no idea why, but his apprehension escalated with each step he took along the central aisle. The fading sun speared through a window high up the wall, casting a strip of light along the opposite wall. The silence engulfed him. Archer felt a presence, yet the church was vacant. He scanned the dark corners, hoping to pinpoint the reason for his uneasiness.