Treasured Secrets (6 page)

Rosalina slipped into the bathroom and adjusted her hair in the mirror. Despite all her effort, the frizzled mop remained untamed. Staring into her eyes, she silently told herself to settle down. This unexpected glitch didn't deserve anywhere near the amount of emotional turmoil she was allocating to it. Once calm returned, she went into her bedroom and picked up the phone.

‘
Ciao, Maria, è Rosalina
.' She asked Maria about a room for Archer, but when she learned there were no vacancies she was annoyed with herself for not being disappointed. With no other accommodation in town, Archer would need to travel into Florence for a hotel room. She heard the town clock begin its hourly chime and checked her bedside table clock. It was already nine and her heart fluttered as she considered offering Archer a room.

With the decision made, she strode towards the kitchen, determined to lay down the ground rules. But her plan to move Archer up to the guesthouse early was crushed when she saw Archer's glass full of red wine and Alessandro going through a book on Italian churches.

‘Here she is. I was just showing Archer how beautiful the Duomo is. He's never been to Italy.'

‘So he says.' She plucked her glass from the table and gulped down the smooth liquid. The exquisite wine was made from Villa Pandolfini's very own grapes and she never tired of the taste. She allowed the alcohol to settle her as she listened to Alessandro ply Archer with trivia about the churches of Florence.

‘Tell me, what scared Rosa?'

Alessandro spoke of the man in the robe and how rough he was. He played up the part where he'd protected her, and the honey-coloured halo in Archer's eyes was a shade or two darker when he looked in her direction. Alessandro reached for her hand and Rosalina squeezed it, fully aware that Archer was watching. When she pulled away she reached for her wine and took a rather large sip.

‘Show Archer the stained-glass window.' Rosalina wanted to see his reaction.

‘Oh, okay.' Alessandro flicked through the book until he found the page he wanted. ‘Here.' He turned the book to Archer and Rosalina stared at him, waiting for the moment of recognition.

Archer leant forward, his eyes wide. ‘It's an
L
!'

So he too thought the letter on his pendant was an
I.

‘What's an
L
?' Alessandro questioned.

‘Oh. Nothing.' Archer shrugged. ‘So…how long have you two been a couple?'

‘That's none of your business.' Rosalina pushed to her feet and turned her back on them. ‘Maria didn't have any vacancies so it seems you'll have to stay here after all. Alessandro, would you mind showing Archer to the back guesthouse while I clean up?'

Alessandro knew there were more comfortable rooms to offer, but thankfully didn't mention it. ‘Sure. Bring your wine. We'll get your car first, then drive up there. It's quite a distance.'

Rosalina sighed with relief when they left through the back door, but she couldn't help but smile as she heard Alessandro explaining the villa's elaborate architecture.

The smell of Archer's distinct aftershave lingered. Memories of him standing naked at his window flickered across her mind, like the old-fashioned home movies her Nonna was fond of viewing over and over. The wine warmed her insides, and as she washed the dishes and put away the food, it wasn't hard to visualise his hands on her skin, gently touching her hips and then wandering up to her breasts. She closed her eyes and pictured him gathering her up into his arms.

The back door creaked open, jolting her back to the present. She wiped her hands on a dish cloth and pulled herself together with the last sip of her wine as Alessandro returned to the kitchen.

‘He seems like a nice fellow.'

She wanted to say that nice fellows don't dump girlfriends without explanation, but instead she nodded.

‘Did you want him as far away as possible, or did you want him to have the least appealing room on the estate?'

‘Both.'

He eased up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned into his embrace and wondered what the hell she was going to do. Alessandro was a wonderful guy, a pure, charming gentleman, but he simply didn't make her heart flutter. Unlike Archer. Until now, it hadn't seemed important. Clearly it was. Her heart hit overdrive just thinking about the hunky Australian.

‘So…you introduced me as your boyfriend.'

She spun to face him and placed her hands on his chest. ‘It slipped out. I was…well…a little shaken when he turned up.'

She saw the look of hope in his eyes and immediately regretted what she'd done.

‘It's fine with me.' He kissed her forehead and stepped back. ‘Do you want me to stay the night?' Alessandro had been more than keen to replicate that night they'd shared more than a decade ago. But Rosalina had resisted so far. And now, with Archer here and obviously still affecting her emotions, she wasn't sure Alessandro would ever receive his wish.

‘No, that's fine. I'll be okay.'

‘Will you, Rosa?' His mouth remained ajar, as if he had more to say. But he didn't speak.

Will I?
‘Of course.' She lied. Having Archer within arm's reach was both a dream and a nightmare, but she'd learnt from her mistake. She would never make it easy for him again.

His honesty and trust was no longer an optional extra.

Archer threw his small case onto the bed and grumbled at the squeaking bedsprings beneath the oversized mattress. He stripped off and wandered across the smooth terracotta tiles, searching for the bathroom. Turning on the lights revealed an enormous claw-foot bath with a shower rose hoisted above it. He fiddled with the brass taps until the water was scalding hot, then stepped over the rim and let the red-hot needles fire into his back.

Seeing Rosalina tonight had reignited the fire within him that'd been a smouldering hell since he'd let her go. As the water pounded his face, his gut twisted into angry knots at the realisation that solving the pendant mystery also meant revealing his past to Rosalina. Images of his mother's gaunt frame flashed into his mind. The last time he'd seen her she was beyond help, lost in a cloud of pain and misery and nothing could undo what he'd done to her or his father. He'd never forgiven himself. How could he expect a woman, especially an intelligent woman like Rosalina, to love him once she knew what he'd done?

Seeing the picture of the stained-glass window had given him renewed faith. He ran his thumb over the raised letters on the pendant. For twenty years he'd been searching for clues to the word ‘OSTOI'. But it wasn't an
I
, it was an
L
. This explained why he'd never found anything. He was searching for the wrong thing. He rode a twinge of excitement.

It was time to go treasure hunting.

The shower sputtered as the pipes groaned within the ancient walls, and in a flash the water turned icy cold. He leapt out of the tub and spun the faucets off. After he'd dried off, he wrapped the towel around his waist and went to explore the remainder of the cottage. The ceilings were at least ten-feet high, elaborately decorated with large cornicing and intricate panelling. Gold-framed paintings of men in tight, white pants lined the walls and heavy velvet curtains covered most of the windows. It wasn't his kind of decorating. Not that he didn't appreciate it — much of his childhood was spent in ancient buildings. Maybe that's why he preferred the modern look. There wasn't much to the cottage and soon he found himself in the bedroom where, like in the rest of the cottage, the furnishings matched the villa's fourteenth century vintage. His only hope was that the mattress on the bed didn't replicate the era.

Archer sat upon it with a bit more care than he usually would and was pleased the mattress wasn't rock hard. He'd slept on some shockers in his life, but thankfully he hadn't had to suffer that kind of torture in a long while. His mobile phone on the side table caught his eye. He reached for it and punched in Jimmy's number.

Jimmy's gruff voice answered on the second ring. ‘Archer, how ya doin', man?'

‘I'm fine, buddy. How's my
Evangeline
?'

‘She's a bit rough after the
Cat's Cradle.'
Jimmy's laugh hinted at the years of alcohol and cigarette abuse to his throat. ‘Only kidding, man. She's a dream come true. I'm treating her better than my baby.'

‘I've seen the way you treat your baby, so I appreciate that.'

‘You found that treasure yet? Is it in the form of a beautiful Italian woman?'

‘I've found Rosalina, if that's who you're referring to.'

‘Mighta been. How is she?'

‘She's still pissed at me.'

‘Don't blame her. A woman like that deserves the royal treatment.'

‘I hear ya, Jimmy, and I'm trying to fix things.'

‘So are you still goin' to be a month or so?'

Archer imagined Jimmy panicking that he'd be short paid. ‘Actually, I need another favour.'

‘Christ, man, what now? I'm already sufferin'.' Jimmy laughed again and then erupted into a coughing fit.

Archer waited out the barking hack before he spoke. ‘I need you to bring
Evangeline
to the Greek Islands.'

‘What? Are you kidding? That'll take months.'

‘I need you there in one month.'

Jimmy whistled. ‘That's some serious running. I'll need a good crew.'

‘I trust you to choose the crew. No bikini babes.'

Jimmy clicked his tongue. ‘You sure know how to take the fun out of things.'

‘This's serious, Jimmy. I'll do the paperwork. You only need to deliver
Evangeline
.'

‘You gonna tell me how much ya paying me, or you makin' me guess again?'

Archer smiled, knowing he had him. Jimmy would be grinning like a man who'd found gold in his backyard. ‘Name your price, Jimmy.'

‘We're travelling some turbulent waters, weeks at sea. It's a big job. And you want me hirin' —'

‘How much, Jimmy?'

‘Fifty grand up front and ten grand a week.' The line was so silent Jimmy must've been holding his breath.

‘If you get there in a month, I'll pay you one hundred grand as well as the ten grand a week.'

‘Holy shit, man. You got yourself a friggin' deal.'

They said their goodbyes and Archer hung up the phone. Knowing
Evangeline
was on her way, and Jimmy for that matter, made Archer relax a little. He couldn't do what he was planning without either of them. Or Rosalina. But that was another situation he was still working through.

Archer strolled to the kitchen and checked out the cupboards. He was surprised to find several bottles of wine. Selecting a bottle of red, he thumbed the fine layer of dust off the label, and although he struggled to read the Italian script, he was able to decipher enough to realise the wine was produced here at Villa Pandolfini.

He found a wine glass and corkscrew and made his way to the enormous bay window in his bedroom. Sitting on the padded seat provided him with a moonlit view of the elaborate villa and its surrounds. Subtle breezes carried scents of herbs and garlic that reminded him of Rosalina's incredible cooking. His stomach grumbled at the thought. Her delicious meals were the culinary opposite to the toasted sandwiches he'd been eating for dinner ever since she'd left.

The cork released with an elegant pop and he breathed in the wine's subtle aromas of blackberry and oak. With a good splash in his glass, he marvelled at its deep pomegranate colour as he swirled it around. From the cottage, the view looked down over the immense villa. From where he sat, he could see all fifteen windows on the upper side of the villa, five on each level. All the windows were dark except for a faint glow filtering from somewhere beyond the upper floor windows.

A light flickered on in the top left-hand corner and he found himself staring at it as he visualised Rosalina preparing for sleep. If he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, he could still recall the smell of her skin. Her bedtime ritual always resulted in intoxicating scents of vanilla and citrus.

Soon after the town clock chimed eleven, her light switched off and Archer drained his wine glass. He wasn't sure if he was resisting sleep because of jet lag or his fear of dreaming. Scanning the room to memorise the layout, he decided the bay window would be his welcome seat if the nightmare came calling. Unable to procrastinate any longer, he pulled back the heavy doona, slipped into bed and punched the pillow into shape. A lump under his shoulder blade had him shuffle over to the other side of the double bed, and before long his eyelids were so heavy he let sleep take over.

Rosalina stared at the decorated ceiling, unable to sleep. Every little sound seemed amplified — a car skirting its way up the narrow hillside, distant music, and a neighbour's dog. But she couldn't fool herself. As every minute passed, she waited for Archer's familiar scream. It was some kind of sick satisfaction, knowing he still suffered those nightmares, and she chastised herself for revelling in his pain. Her instinct was to run to him and comfort him through the horror, but her common sense told her he'd brought the solitude upon himself. It was no longer her job to help him through these dark moments.

The town clock chimed two in the morning, and with each passing minute expectation ate at her.
This is ridiculous
. As she stewed over her resolve, she rolled to her side and tugged the sheet up under her chin. And then she heard it — the familiar gut-wrenching scream. She sat upright and flicked on the lamp, but instantly regretted it, aware that he might see the light.

Her insides twisted at the decision to go to him, but with breathless anticipation she wrapped a silk gown over her shoulders and slipped into her shoes. With each step down the creaking stairs, her mind was a tug of war between going and staying.