Sicilian Nights Omnibus (13 page)

Grimly Alessandro forced it away. That wasn’t how he wanted to think of her. After all, no doubt at some stage she would have learned to twist her father round her little finger, and her brothers too. And yet he couldn’t quite banish his awareness of how difficult her childhood must have been. Just like his own? No. They were two very different people with nothing in common. Nothing? So they were both second children—motherless second children. That meant nothing. Nothing at all.

He pulled back the curtain to check the window, which was slightly open. He closed it firmly and then checked the wall and the floor around it, before turning to tell Leonora, ‘It’s closed now, and I can’t see any sign of an intruder.’

Leonora nodded her head, and let her breath escape on a leaky sigh of relief.

‘Thank you. I know that you must think me foolish, even though you haven’t said so.’

‘Foolish for being afraid of spiders—no. But foolishly reckless in other ways, perhaps yes.’

That was as close as he was going to get to warning her that he had his suspicions about her. If she had any sense she would immediately abandon any attempts she might be thinking of making to start a battle between them that she was not going to win. He would never, ever let anyone manipulate him into letting them win—at anything. And she was no exception, shared family position or not.

Foolishly reckless in other ways? What exactly did he mean by that? Leonora didn’t know, but she did know that he wasn’t paying her a compliment. The tough façade Leonora usually presented to the world should have her challenging him and arguing with him, whilst affecting not to care what he thought, but the private inner Leonora was acutely sensitive to his criticism, and unwilling to risk further hurt by asking for an explanation of it.

Alessandro dropped the curtain and was just about to head back to the bed when, without intending to do any such thing, he stopped and said, ‘I can’t see any sign of your friend, but if it would make you feel more comfortable I’m quite prepared to swap sides of the bed with you and sleep on your side, seeing as it is closer to the window.’

What on earth had made him make
that
offer? He shouldn’t be pandering to her fears. She’d think that she had some kind of hold on him, that he wanted to please her, and that wasn’t the case at all.

Astonishment and gratitude had Leonora staring at him, unable to conceal how she felt. She wasn’t used to being treated like this, and she certainly hadn’t expected to be treated in such a way by Alessandro.

‘Would you?’ She couldn’t conceal her wonderment. ‘That would be really kind.’

She was overdoing the wide-eyed ‘you are wonderful’ stuff so much that if he could have done he would have withdrawn his offer, Alessandro decided. Instead he simply shrugged and told her brusquely, ‘Hardly that. I’d simply like to get some sleep.’

Instantly the light died from Leonora’s eyes, to be replaced with self-conscious chagrin. Of
course
he wasn’t doing it for her—and of
course
he wanted to get some sleep. She didn’t trust herself to apologise. She knew he’d be able to tell from her voice how mortified she felt. Instead she moved over to his side of the bed and then tensed, immediately aware of how the scent of his skin clung to the place where he had been lying. Surely if her fear of the spider didn’t keep her awake then having to sleep here, lying in Alessandro’s body warmth and scent, was bound to do so.

Deliberately she lay with her back towards Alessandro, but of course that didn’t stop her from knowing the minute he got into the bed from the dip in the mattress. Closing her eyes, she fought not to be conscious of him—which, oddly, was even harder now than it had been earlier. Perhaps because the verbal intimacy they had shared had in its own way made her feel every bit as vulnerable as the sexual intimacy between them earlier?

She felt the bed dip again. He was moving towards her. Was he going to carry out the threat he had made earlier, about proving to her that she wanted him? Breathless anticipation seized her, obliterating the anxiety she knew she should feel. He was right next to her. She could feel the heat from his body. In fact she could feel his body too, where his leg touched her own. A shower of lava-hot longing spilled through her.

He reached round her, his head above her own as he lifted his hand—to turn her to him? Molten desire stirred the heavy arousal in her lower body, and instinctively she started to turn towards him. Only to hear him say, ‘You may want to sleep with the light on, the better to spy on your friend, but I’m afraid I do not.’ He reached up and switched off the bedside light she had forgotten was on, and then moved away from her.

It could have been worse, she reassured herself after he had returned to his own side of the bed. He could have realised how she was feeling—or, even worse again, she could actually have turned to him and reached out for him. How humiliating
that
would have been. At least this way all she had to contend with was the ache of her desire, not the ache of a bruised heart. A bruised heart? How could Alessandro bruise her heart? He didn’t mean anything to her. Did he? No, of course he didn’t.

But lying beneath him as he’d reached over her to switch off the light had filled Leonora with the most potent surge of longing that just would not go away. All she could think about was what it would be like not just to share the sensual intimacy of sex with him, but also to feel the tender warmth of his arms and the security of his protection. What was the matter with her? Such thoughts were inappropriate and unwanted—and what was worse they were also dangerous and painful.

* * *

What the hell was the matter with him? Alessandro asked himself angrily as he lay staring into the darkness, fighting down his need to cross the distance that separated him from Leonora. No matter how much he hated having to admit it, he ached to take her in his arms and caress her back to the responsive, eager woman he had held earlier in the evening.

It was an intensity that was wholly unfamiliar to him. He wasn’t some callow youth. The fact that he was sharing a bed with Leonora should not have been a signal to his body to hunger for her. He’d been too long without sex—that was his problem. There was nothing personal in the potent mix of emotional and physical need that was now gripping him. He’d spent too much time working and not enough time playing, and he’d let her get under his skin and arouse a dangerous curiosity about her—something he would normally never have allowed to happen. Something that would
not
have happened if he hadn’t been obliged by family duty to come here to the
castello
in the first place.

Returning to his childhood home had brought back too many unwanted memories. That was how Leonora had been able to arouse his sympathy. Listening to her talk about her childhood had taken him far too close to the misery of his own. At least her father had loved her in his own way—unlike his father, who had never loved him and had said so. Nothing had changed there. His father’s hostility towards him was still there, underpinned by angry contempt. With his own sons he would behave very differently, Alessandro thought. They would all be loved equally and individually, each one of them uniquely precious to him and valued by him, and so would his daughters.

Sons and daughters? What on earth was he thinking? He’d already decided that it was unlikely that he would be a father, since he doubted that he’d ever meet a woman he could trust enough to make the kind of commitment that would lead to them having children. Perhaps it was old-fashioned of him, but he’d want his children to be born into a marriage that would last a lifetime—for their sakes more than for his own. He liked beautiful women, and felt no shame in his preference, but it seemed to him that modern women treated their beauty as a commodity they could sell to the highest bidder for their own advantage, going from marriage to marriage and collecting an impressive portfolio of divorce settlements on the way—just as Sofia had done.

Leonora Thaxton was less ambitious. No doubt she would be content to exchange her body for a pilot’s job with his airline. And the way he was aching for her right now, maybe it would be worth giving her a job, Alessandro thought grimly. He knew, of course, that he would do no such thing. His pride would never allow it, and more importantly neither would his duty towards his passengers and customers. He had been too long without a lover—that was all. It was impossible for him to allow himself to want a woman he
knew
was simply using him.

* * *

It was a long time before Leonora finally fell asleep, and an even longer time before Alessandro did the same, promising himself that he was going to play Leonora at her own game. Before the weekend was over he intended to prove to her that he could make her want him far more than she could make him want her. No matter how hard she tried to manipulate him she wasn’t going to win—and she wasn’t going to get a job with his airline either.

CHAPTER TEN

T
HE
BED
ON
which they both lay naked was high, draped with richly sensuous silk fabric. But its touch against her flesh was nowhere near as sensuously erotic as
his
touch, nor could the whisper of the fabric’s kiss compare with the fierce passion of
his
kiss.

His face was in the shadows, but she knew its features by heart—from the burning intensity of his dark eyes through the arrogance of his profile to the explicit sensuality of his mouth. Excited pleasure curled and then kicked through her. Simply looking at him awoke and aroused the woman in her in a way and at a level that no other man ever could. Just as she was the only woman who was woman enough to truly complement him as a man. They were made for one another, a perfect match, and they both knew it. Only here, with him, could she truly be herself and let down her guard to share her longing and her love.

He made her ache for him in a thousand—no, a hundred thousand different ways, and the way his knowing smile lifted the corners of his mouth told her that he
knew
that her whole body shuddered in mute delight at the slow, deliberate stroke of his fingertips along the curve of her breast.

He turned his head and looked at her. Joy ran through her like quicksilver as she reached up to him, knowing how much she loved him.

‘Alessandro...’

The sound of her own voice woke Leonora from her dream, shocking her into reality, as her cry hung on the morning air of the bedroom. Alessandro her dream lover? How could that be? It couldn’t.

She looked towards the other side of the bed. Thankfully it was empty. A glance at her watch told her that she had slept later than normal. She was surprised that she had slept at all, given the events of the evening. There was no sound from the bathroom or the dressing room. She was obviously alone in the bedroom, and of course she was glad. Of course she was. Why had she dreamed about Alessandro like that? She had never even dreamed her fantasy before while sleeping, never mind substituted a real-life man for her imaginary lover.

It didn’t mean anything, she reassured herself as she pushed back the bedclothes and stood up. It was only because of what had happened last night before they had gone to bed. It might be true that the more she learned about Alessandro the more she wanted to learn, but that was just because of his airline. It didn’t mean that she was foolish enough to think of him as her soul mate. That was ridiculous.

She showered quickly and slightly apprehensively, not wanting either the return of the spider or the return of Alessandro. How awful it would be if he ever got to know about her silly fantasy. But of course he would not get to know. How could he? She certainly wasn’t going to tell him, Leonora thought wryly as she dressed casually in her new jeans and one of the T-shirts.

Having brushed her hair and applied a discreet touch of make-up, she made her way across the courtyard to the main entrance to the house. She was standing in the hallway, wondering what to do about finding some breakfast, when Falcon walked into the hall from the opposite direction, smiling warmly at her when he saw her. Like her, he was dressed casually in jeans, looking younger and less austere than he had done the previous evening.

‘No Sandro?’ he asked.

‘I overslept, I’m afraid, and he must have got impatient for his breakfast,’ Leonora responded.

‘Most ungallant of him. But most fortunate for me, as it means that I can have the pleasure of escorting you to the breakfast room. With so much going on it will only be a buffet-style affair this morning—although if you wish for something more...’

‘No, a light breakfast will be fine,’ Leonora assured him.

Alessandro’s brother was charming, and handsome, and she felt more comfortable with him than she did with Alessandro himself, but it was Alessandro who made her heart thump against her ribs—just as it was doing now, at the mere thought of him.

‘The
castello
is so big I’m sure I’m going to get lost before the weekend’s over,’ Leonora told her host.

‘If you would like a guided tour then I would be happy to be your guide.’

‘Oh, no. I didn’t mean—I mean, I wasn’t...’ Flustered, and feeling that she must have sounded as though she was angling for a personal tour of the
castello
,
Leonora was aghast. But instead of looking grimly at her, as she was sure Alessandro would have done, Falcon gave her another warm smile and laughed.

‘You would prefer Sandro to be the one to escort you, I can see,’ he said. ‘No, there is no need to deny it. That is just as it should be.’

Alessandro frowned as he stood at the opposite end of the long salon, unobserved by either his brother or Leonora, watching them both. Falcon was smiling warmly at Leonora—too warmly, Alessandro decided—and she was smiling back. Falcon had placed his hand on her arm and she was looking up at him. Out of nowhere a sledgehammer blow fell across Alessandro’s heart, momentarily stopping it and then setting it thudding with a fierce, possessive alpha-male anger. Leonora was his, and she was going to stay his.

He was halfway across the room before logic cut in, warning him of the danger he was courting in giving way to his emotions. But by then it was too late, because both Falcon and Leonora had seen him and were looking at him. It was impossible for him to turn back—either from crossing the room or from what he had just learned about himself and his real feelings for Leonora.

‘Ah, there you are, Sandro. I found Leonora in the grand hall, looking hungry and alone.’

‘I left her in bed, and hungry, I had thought, only for my return.’

Alessandro’s response to his brother, his words and their implied meaning, caused Leonora to take a sharp breath at the deliberate sensuality and his implication that there had been an implicit promise between them that he would return to the bed where he had left her to make love to her.

‘I did offer to show her round the
castello
,
but she made it plain to me that she would rather you were her guide,’ Falcon told his brother without commenting on Alessandro’s own words.

Falcon’s comment caused Alessandro to look directly at Leonora for the first time since he had joined them. She looked flushed and uncomfortable, as though embarrassed by their conversation, but Alessandro told himself that she was simply putting on an act, that secretly she was relishing the opportunity to make him jealous because Falcon had shown an interest in her. Even so, he had no intention of leaving her on her own with Falcon—or anyone else.

He had risen this morning tired and frustrated, after a largely sleepless night, having at one stage woken up to discover that he had moved to lie so close to Leonora that she’d been within arm’s reach of him. His thigh had ached to be thrown over hers, to claim his male possession of her. Of course he had let it do no such thing, moving back to his own side of the bed instead, but the ache had still tormented him—and it was tormenting him now, Alessandro admitted angrily. Of course the only reason he wanted her so fiercely—the only viable reason why his emotions were involved—was because she had challenged him and then rejected him. There was no other permissible reason.

‘I thought you might like to see something of the island whilst we’re here,’ he told Leonora. ‘So I’ve arranged for us to pick up a helicopter at the airfield in half an hour’s time. We won’t be able to see everything, of course, but I’ll do my best to show you the highlights.’

Leonora’s face lit up immediately. Unable to conceal her pleasure, she smiled up at Alessandro, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

‘I’ve never piloted a helicopter—’ she began, but Alessandro shook his head.

‘And you won’t be piloting one today either,’ he warned her. ‘You aren’t licensed to fly them.’

‘Are you?’ Leonora couldn’t resist demanding.

‘Of course,’ Alessandro responded. ‘So, either you can have your breakfast now, or we could have brunch at a hotel I know with the most spectacular views of the Ionian Sea.’

‘Let the poor girl at least have a cup of coffee, Sandro,’ Falcon protested, but Leonora shook her head.

‘Brunch sounds perfect,’ she assured Alessandro happily.

* * *

In the end she did get her coffee, and some delicious fresh bread and honey, brought to her by Alessandro himself after she had returned to their suite to collect everything she thought she might need.

When he walked in, carrying a tray on which there was a cafetière of coffee, two cups and fresh bread and preserves, she did feel a small sweetly sharp heartbeat of self-conscious uncertainty, brought on as much by her own private dream fantasy as by what had actually happened between them.

The sight of Alessandro dressed like her in jeans, but wearing a soft white short-sleeved linen shirt with them, which somehow emphasised the breadth and masculinity of his torso, heightened her already acute awareness of him. What would happen if she went to him now and told him with the openness and the sexual confidence she knew she ought to have that she could not stop thinking about him and that she wanted them to make love? He had been angry with her last night when she had retreated from him, but he had wanted her then. Did he still want her now?

What was the matter with her? Her virginity might be a burden to her, but that was not a valid reason for her to feel the way she was doing right now. Wanting Alessandro merely physically would have been bad enough, given her ambition to work for him, but the need and the hunger she was battling contained an emotional longing to connect with him.

That was simply because they shared certain aspects of their childhood. She would have felt the same way about any man she met who, like her, was a second child and had lost a parent.

‘Here you are.’

She had been so engrossed with her own thoughts that she hadn’t noticed that Alessandro had poured them both a cup of coffee. As she took hers from him their fingertips touched, and she had to fight not to reach out to him, to make that touch even more intimate. This was crazy—and dangerous. Anyone would think she’d never been so close to a man before.

She hadn’t, though, had she? Or at least not to a sensually powerful and compelling alpha male like Alessandro. He was unique, but her response to him was far from unique, she reminded herself firmly, turning away from him to face the window. She clasped her coffee and pretended to be interested in the view beyond the window in order to avoid having to look at him and further increase her unwanted vulnerability. No doubt hordes of other women had felt about him as she did. But they, unlike her, had no doubt had the sexual confidence to show him how they felt. What would his reaction be if he knew the truth? Would he be as repulsed as she dreaded? Or would he simply laugh at her? Either way, she wasn’t going to risk finding out. Not when she already knew that what he certainly
wasn’t
likely to do was sweep her up into his arms and carry her to bed. He wouldn’t do that, would he? Not after the way she had stopped him last night.

Leonora tightened her grip on her coffee cup, all too aware of the betraying tremors of longing threatening her body. From the place deep within her memory where she had locked it away came a teasing comment made to her by Leo, when she had first insisted that she wasn’t going to give up her dream of working for Alessandro’s Avanti Airlines.

‘Are you sure it’s the job you want and not the man, sis? After all, there are dozens of airlines who’d jump at the chance to take on someone as qualified as you, but the only one
you
seem to be interested in is Alessandro Leopardi’s.’

Her response had been immediate. She had repudiated his brotherly teasing, insisting with flags of anger flying in her cheeks that the only reason she was so determined to get Alessandro Leopardi to back down and take her on was to prove a point, that it had nothing to do with the man himself. Or at least not in the way Leo had been implying.

The reality was that her determination to force Alessandro to concede that she was more than up to being one of his pilots had everything to do with the fact that she had been so deeply resentful of his professional rejection of her, and intensely determined to make him change his mind.

‘You’d better have something to eat—unless you’re one of those women who doesn’t do breakfast?’

Alessandro’s cool voice, tinged with a mix of disapproval and contempt, broke into the chaotic confusion of her private thoughts. Glad of an excuse not to have to pursue them to a conclusion she already knew she wasn’t going to like, Leonora answered him by going over to the table and putting down her coffee before selecting some bread and spreading it with honey.

‘Food is fuel for the human body. I wouldn’t expect or want to fly an aircraft that wasn’t properly fuelled, and the same applies to my body. Besides,’ she added wryly, ‘it just isn’t possible to grow up as the only female in a houseful of men and not eat breakfast. My father used to insist on us all having a huge bowlful of home-made porridge on winter mornings, and to tell the truth it’s still my favourite comfort food.’ She stopped speaking abruptly, conscious of having allowed him to see a softer side she’d normally have kept hidden.

‘Mine is spaghetti with tomato sauce. Falcon used to make it for us—we were often sent supperless to bed by our stepmother, but our old cook taught Falcon how to make a few simple dishes,’ Alessandro told her.

They looked at one another, both of them wondering what had prompted them to give away an aspect of themselves they normally kept very carefully guarded. For Alessandro, the unplanned giving of such a confidence about his childhood left him with a need to explain to himself why he had done so. He picked up a piece of bread, spooning fresh preserve onto it and biting into it with strong white teeth in a way that had Leonora’s stomach muscles clamping down hard against a surge of sensual heat that caught her off guard.

All he was doing by exchanging such confidences with her was working towards getting her off guard and keeping her there until he was ready to show her which of them was the stronger, Alessandro assured himself, finishing the bread and then telling Leonora crisply, ‘I’m surprised you haven’t tried for your own helicopter pilot’s licence.’