Sicilian Nights Omnibus (21 page)

He had thought originally that his only duty was to her child, but he had been wrong; he realised that now. She was just as in need of his care in her own way as her son. Now that he was aware of it he could not ignore that fact.

He had a duty of care towards her, and he would fulfil that duty. No matter what.

CHAPTER FOUR

T
HE
HEAT
OF
the Sicilian night wrapped round them like a moist blanket when they left the plane, and by the time they reached the waiting car Annie, in her heavy clothes, was drenched with perspiration.

‘Rocco.’ Falcon greeted the brother who was waiting for them with obvious affection and warmth, and the two men exchanged fierce hugs before Falcon somehow managed to catch hold of her arm before she could stop him, to draw her forward to be introduced to the tall, good-looking man standing alongside the waiting Mercedes.

She expected him to shake her hand, but instead he hugged her, enveloping her in an embrace which oddly did not have anything like the effect on her that being held by Falcon had.

He then admired Ollie, picking him up out of his buggy with such obvious expertise that all Annie’s maternal fears were immediately soothed. He made her son smile widely as he held him high in the air with an expert male care that said that Rocco was familiar with the needs of a young child.

‘He is a true Leopardi,’ she heard Falcon saying as proudly as though Oliver was his, whilst his brother laughed and teased him.

‘I can see that he has your eyes, brother.’

Somehow it was Falcon who took charge of Ollie when they got into the car, fastening him into the waiting baby seat whilst he made conversation with his brother.

The road to the
castello
was dark and winding—in contrast with the
castello
itself which was ablaze with lights.

‘My wife is very anxious to meet you and welcome you,’ Rocco told Annie before she got out of the car. ‘She wanted to come with me tonight, but Falcon forbade it because he thought you would be too tired. She will be calling to see you tomorrow, though, and I dare say bringing our little one with her.’

He then kissed Ollie soundly on the forehead and gave him a firm hug, before passing him to Falcon who fastened him in his buggy whilst two men removed the cases from the back of the car.

She was then swept inside the
castello
and introduced to the housekeeper and two very young maids.

She had learned during the drive from the plane that Rocco and his wife lived in a villa some miles away from the
castello
, and that Rocco was a property developer, who travelled a great deal with his work, whilst Falcon’s middle brother owned an airline. He apparently had his own apartment within the
castello
, but spent most of his time in Florence, which was where his business was based. What had surprised her most was learning that Falcon too had business interests independent of his responsibilities as his father’s heir. He was an architect and conservation expert, who also had a home in Florence, as well as his own wing of the
castello
.

‘So you don’t live here all the time?’ she questioned him now they were inside.

‘Not normally, but you need not fear that I shall abandon you and Oliver.’

‘I wasn’t thinking that,’ Annie lied. She didn’t want him thinking that she needed him, because then he might start thinking that she had a personal interest in him—and she didn’t.

‘Maria has prepared rooms for you both,’ Falcon told her, ignoring her fib. ‘She will show you to them now.’

It was late, and she was tired—so tired that the minute she saw the huge, comfortable looking bed in the bedroom Maria took her to all she wanted to do was lie down on it.

She was a mother, though, with responsibilities. Although one brief look was enough to reassure her that the room into which her bedroom opened, which had clearly been turned into a nursery, was expertly quipped with everything Ollie could possibly need—including facilities for making and heating Oliver’s bottle.

‘The wife of the
signore
—she choose everything,’ Maria told her in broken English.

‘The
signore
?’ Annie queried uncertainly, whilst trying not to look too yearningly at the waiting bed.

‘Sí. The
signore
who is the brother of Signor Falcon. She will come tomorrow to see you.’

Maria must be referring to Rocco’s wife, Annie recognised.

* * *

She woke up to find that someone must have come into the room earlier and left her a breakfast tray, with coffee and fruit and soft breads. They had also pulled back the curtains to allow the most glorious sunshine to stream into the room.

She got out of bed, wrapping herself in the towelling robe she had found in the bathroom the previous night, and went first to check on Ollie who was lying happily in his cot, watching the mobile hanging above his head.

She then poured herself a cup of coffee, drinking it with one eye on the open door to the nursery and the other on the view from the elegant French windows of her room, which opened on to a balcony large enough to contain a small table and two chairs, protected by railings high enough to make it safe for Ollie.

Already it was hot. The sky was a brilliant matt blue and the realisation that she could see the sea beyond the walls of the
castello
thrilled her with delight. Directly below the balcony were formal gardens enclosed by ancient walls over which roses climbed and tumbled. In the distance, beyond the walled garden, jagged mountain peaks rose up to meet the sky, their lower slopes cloaked in what looked like olive groves.

She could hear Ollie gurgling to himself. Finishing her coffee, she started to smile. It would be wonderful to be free to be with him and enjoy his every small development. He had loved nursery, but she had envied the nursery carers. She just hoped he wouldn’t miss his little companions too much.

An hour later, with Ollie bathed, changed, fed and dressed and safely in his playpen, she went to get dressed herself. Her confusion when she couldn’t find the clothes she had been wearing when she had arrived at the
castello
last night turned to suspicion and then an anger so intense that it made her shake from head to foot. She discovered that not only were last night’s clothes missing, but that the suitcase containing the rest of her own things was missing, as well.

Her clothes had gone. Taken away, no doubt, on Falcon’s orders, so that she would be forced to wear the clothes he had bought for her—clothes which he deemed more suitable and which—surprise, surprise—were not missing.

She would not have his choice imposed on her. She would not be bullied and controlled. But she had no option other than to wear one of the new outfits or remain in her bedroom, since she most certainly could not go downstairs wearing a bathrobe.

She could not bear to look at herself. She would
not
look at herself, Annie decided as she tugged up the zip of a pair of cotton Capri pants and slid her bare feet into a pair of pretty flat shoes. At least she’d managed to find a long-sleeved cotton wrap to wear over the strappy top she’d been forced to wear. Against her will she caught sight of her pale skin, its paleness making it look very bare.

Picking up Ollie, she hurried towards the bedroom door.

She was not going to put up with being controlled like this—and the minute she found Falcon she was going to tell him so.

The
castello
seemed to be a warren of long corridors, and she had been too tired last night to pay much attention when Maria had shown her upstairs to her room. When she had still not found the stairs, after traversing what felt like miles of corridors that led to dead ends, Annie was beginning to panic—until she turned a corner to find that she had finally reached a large landing from which the stairs swept downwards into an imposing hallway.

She was just about to go down when a door opened further along the landing and Falcon came out.

‘I want my own clothes back,’ Annie told him angrily, before he could speak. ‘I suppose you thought you were being very clever, arranging for them to be taken away, knowing that I’d be forced to wear what you bought me. But—’

‘Your clothes are missing? The ones you arrived in?’

Annie had to fight to suppress a desire to grind her teeth.

‘You know perfectly well they are—and my case, as well.
You
are the one who arranged for them to be taken, You, after all, are the Leopardi heir.’

Ignoring her sarcasm, Falcon held out his hands for Ollie.

‘You are wrong in your accusations. I have given no orders concerning your clothes whatsoever. Nor would I do. Personally I think that you will be far more comfortable in what you are wearing now, but the right of choice is yours. However, I think I know what may have happened to those you were wearing. Although, I have no knowledge of the whereabouts of your case. Come with me, please.’

Somehow or other he had managed to take Ollie from her, despite the fact that she had not intended to allow him to do so. Ollie certainly didn’t seem to mind, beaming delightedly at his new relative and chattering away to him in his own brand of baby talk as Falcon strode down the stairs and across the hallway, leaving Annie to hurry to catch up with him.

From the hall he led her through several overpoweringly formal reception rooms, furnished with what Annie guessed must be priceless antiques, finally coming to a halt in a more comfortable-looking room where Maria was overseeing one of the maids.

The minute the housekeeper saw Ollie she beamed at him, and then greeted Annie herself.

‘Annie wishes to know what has happened to the clothes she arrived in last night,’ Falcon told Maria, speaking slowly and carefully in English.

Maria beamed Annie a wide smile.

‘I take them and put them in the machine,’ she told her with delight. ‘You like coffee now? And some food?’

‘We’ll have coffee on the terrace, thank you, Maria,’ Falcon answered. ‘Oh—and you had better bring extra cups for Rocco and his wife. They should be joining us soon.’

‘You will have to blame my sisters-in-law for the absence of your clothes,’ Falcon told Annie as soon as Maria and the maid had left. ‘They insisted on revamping the
castello
’s kitchens, with the result that Maria cannot resist using the new washing machine, on the slightest excuse. As for your case—I shall make further enquiries.’

Annie felt mortified. It was blindingly obvious that she had jumped to the wrong conclusion. If she wasn’t careful, he was going to start thinking she was paranoid. Despite the fact that the interior of the
castello
was a comfortable temperature, Annie could feel perspiration breaking out on her skin. The last thing she wanted was him asking questions about her reaction to the absence of her own clothes.

‘I must apologise—’ she began stiffly.

Falcon shook his head to stop her continuing.

‘There is no need,’ he told her. ‘The fault is mine, in that I obviously made you feel under pressure with advice that was unsolicited.’

Annie was so astonished by his admission that she looked up at him, her gaze mutely questioning his in an act of openness that was so alien to her that the realisation of what she was doing caught at her breath. Allowing him to see what she was thinking, allowing herself to be vulnerable—these were acts she had thought she had trained herself not to risk a long time ago.

‘Until they married, and I relinquished what I’d believed was my responsibility for their emotional well-being, my brothers berated me for my over-developed big brother concern for them. It was a habit I had fallen into when they were young, when the three of us were vulnerable to the moods of a stepmother who resented us and a father who did not care. If I sound self-pitying, that is not my intention. My brothers and I have led and continue to lead privileged lives.

‘However, just as being their eldest brother does not give me the right to interfere in their lives, neither does my over-developed sense of responsibility give me the right to lecture you about the suitability of your clothes for Sicily’s climate. I obviously went way over the top if you thought I had given Maria orders to remove your own clothes.’

There was that light-headed feeling again, Annie recognised. Experiencing it was becoming a regular aspect of being in Falcon’s company.

‘I probably overreacted,’ Annie admitted.

The warm smile he was giving her was doing things to her heart that could have made it a contestant in an Olympic gymnastics team. Falcon was still smiling at her. He had a good smile—strong and real, with the curl of his mouth in amusement emphasising the fullness of his bottom lip. Something very reckless was spreading a dangerous heat through her lower body, its presence throwing her into frantic panic.

‘My father will want to see Oliver, of course. He has a terminal heart condition which caused him to have a relapse whilst I was away. He has been very anxious that Oliver should become part of the family. He knows you are both here, and that has put his mind at rest, but his doctor has recommended that he needs to rest a little more before he sees the little one.

‘I should warn you that my father idolised Antonio. He knows nothing of the circumstances surrounding Oliver’s conception. He will not hear a word against his favourite son, and in view of his condition I thought it best not to try to force him to accept the reality of what my half-brother was. I should also warn you that my father does not treat your sex with the respect he should, and that you are likely to find his attitude offensive. I assure you that his offensiveness will not be personal in any way. If you wish, I will take Oliver to meet his grandfather.’

Falcon was trying both to warn her about his father and to protect her from him, Annie recognised, but on this occasion his concern was welcome. What was it that made the difference between care that was controlling and care that instilled in her the sweet swell of inner warmth that Falcon’s was doing now?

Was it a matter of degree, of intention, or was it all down to the man offering the care?

Annie was relieved when the sound of other voices prevented her from pursuing her thoughts.

The couple coming into the hall quite plainly had so much love for one another that Annie felt a small lump of envy lock her throat. She saw the looks Rocco Leopardi was exchanging with his wife as together they strapped a happily smiling little boy who looked Ollie’s age into a buggy.