How would he prove his right to show a woman who held the power in a relationship with him? By taking her in his arms and proving his strength with his kisses, his caresses, his body?
The thought, so unexpected, so primitive, so unlike her, sent color shooting to her face. She stepped back, raised her chin and looked straight into his chocolate-colored eyes.
“You’ve been kind,” she said calmly, though her heart was racing. “And generous. But if you think that gives you the right to make decisions for me, you’re wrong.”
“My apologies,” he said stiffly. “Of course, you’re free to do as you like.”
“It’s not that I’m ungrateful—”
“I don’t want your gratitude.”
“Well, you have it anyway.” Fallon cleared her throat. “Actually—actually, I’ve been thinking…”
“And?”
“And, I’ve decided it’s time I left.”
His mouth twisted. “Ah. I suppose that explains the suitcase artfully hidden behind the flower bushes.”
She felt color rush into her face. “I thought—I figured it was best to leave while you were gone.”
“Because?” Stefano tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Did you think I’d bolt the doors and raise the drawbridge if you told me you wanted to leave?”
“Of course not. It just seemed—um, it seemed simpler that way.” She looked at his face, the cool amusement etched across his mouth and in his eyes, and felt a rush of anger. “Damn it, don’t laugh at me! All right. I thought you might try to convince me to stay.”
“With what? A trip to the dungeon? Whips and chains?”
“I just wanted to avoid a scene, okay? I could imagine you trying to make me believe I was better off here, at Castello Lucchesi, than anywhere else.”
He nodded, rocked back on his heels and gave her a look that said he found all this vaguely interesting.
“And how would I try to do that?”
“Well…well, you’d say—you’d say this was a perfect place to recuperate.”
“Because it’s peaceful? Because it’s away from those who might stare at you?”
Her face grew hot. “You’re blunt.”
“I’m honest, and please don’t tell me that’s not a concern of yours.”
“Why would I do that?” she snapped. The freshening wind snatched at her hair and blew it across her face. She scooped it back and tucked it behind her ear. “I mean, you seem to know everything about me.”
“I thought I did.”
“Which only goes to prove the size of your ego! You’ve only known me for a little more than a week—”
“I watched you.”
She stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“I watched you.” This time, it was his face that was suddenly striped with color. “When you were here with the others.”
“You? You were the man who…? But why?”
“I’d never seen a shoot before. It was—interesting.”
Fallon laughed. She could imagine him finding a photographic safari in Kenya interesting, but a fashion shoot?
“Try again,” she said, and the color on his cheeks deepened.
“All right.” His voice roughened. “The truth is, I didn’t give a damn about the others, or what they were doing. I only saw you.”
A little tremor danced up her spine.
“I knew someone was watching,” she said softly. “I felt eyes on me. I saw someone…I thought it was one of the castle’s security guards.”
“Well, it wasn’t. It was me.”
“And—and why did you watch me?”
“Because you were beautiful,” he said bluntly. “And serene, and filled with life…and yet, all the time, I felt you were searching for something.”
His words, spoken so quietly, stunned her. How could he have made judgments about her without even speaking to her? And yet, he was right. Those qualities—her serenity, her vitality—were the very ones her agency often used to describe her.
As for the rest…he was right about that, too. She was searching for something. For someone. But none of those things applied to her anymore. They described the woman she’d been, not the one she’d be from now on.
Suddenly this talk, this argument, seemed pointless.
“You have a vivid imagination,” she said carelessly. “Anyway, I might have been those things before but everything’s different now.” She turned away. “Thank you for all you’ve done, but it’s time I left.”
“It would be foolish to pretend some things about you aren’t different,” he said, clasping her wrist and trying to make her look at him. When she stood her ground, he stepped in front of her. “Fallon,” he said softly, “look at me.” Gently, he lifted her face to his. Tears glittered in her eyes and he fought back the desire to kiss them away.
“What’s inside you, those qualities in your heart and soul, all the things that make you you, haven’t changed.” His gaze moved slowly over her face, lingering on her slightly parted lips before meeting her eyes again. “And you’re still beautiful.”
“No! I’ve seen myself in the mirror. You can’t lie to me, Stefano. I know what I look like.”
“You need time to heal. You know what the doctor said. It’s impossible to judge what your cuts will be like until the swelling goes down and the stitches come out.”
“Look at me,” she said fiercely. “Go on, damn it! Take a long, hard look. Do you think what you see is going to vanish just because the stitches come out?”
“Do you really think scars can change the sweetness of your smile, the wisdom I see in your eyes? All you need is time to accept yourself.”
“How can I accept someone I don’t know?” The tremulous admission freed the tears she’d managed to choke back. They ran down her cheeks as she wound her fingers tightly through his. “Don’t you understand? I’m not me anymore!”
“What’s inside you is the same,” Stefano insisted. “You’re too bright to believe that the faces we show the world are our real selves.”
“Two weeks ago, I’d have agreed with you. Something like that is easy to say when you look in the mirror and see someone you’ve always known but now I see—I see—”
Her voice broke. He mouthed an oath in Sicilian and drew her into his arms, held her tight against him until she sobbed and leaned into his body.
“I look at myself,” she whispered, “and I see a stranger.”
Stefano tucked her head under his chin. Her hair smelled of the salty sea and of the flowers that grew in the castle garden. He wanted to kiss her; he wanted to shake her. Instead, he held her close and rocked her in his arms.
“I know it can be difficult to see beyond what once was,” he murmured. “When I first came here, to Castello Lucchesi, I saw only ruins. Lost dreams. Hopeless illusions. I couldn’t understand why my grandfather had always talked of the castello as if the centuries hadn’t changed it.” He pulled back just enough so he co
uld frame her face with his hands and look down into her eyes. “I decided he’d been filled with an old man’s foolishness.” He smiled, gently ran his thumb over her soft underlip. “Then I walked the cliffs. I listened to the wind whispering through the fallen stones. And I understood that what had made the castle great was still here, would always be here. I had only to look deep enough to see it.”
Fallon drew a shuddering breath.
“What if you’d walked the cliffs, searched deep within yourself and—and found nothing?” The wind was as soft as her voice. “What if you’d discovered that what everyone thought was here had been just an illusion?”
Stefano’s eyes dropped to her mouth again. One taste, that was all. One delicate savoring, and he gave in to need, bent his head and kissed her with such tenderness that she felt her heart stand still.
“I’ve seen a lot of things in my life. I know what is truth and what is illusion. The house I built here is an illusion. Its true beauty comes from the power of the stones that were once part of a real castello.” A muscle knotted in his jaw. “Your true beauty comes from deep inside you. Nothing can change it.”
Fallon swallowed past the lump in her throat. Oh, she wanted to believe him! Wanted to think that her face had never been anything but a mask…
“Stay here,” Stefano said quietly. “Let me help you.”
“You have a life to go back to. People who need you.”
“I have a life I created and people who jump when I speak.” He smiled, stroked dark strands of silky hair away from her cheeks. “They can jump just as well from four thousand miles away.”
She laughed, really laughed, for the first time since the accident had stolen her from herself.
“Spoken like a true feudal lord.”
“Is there anything you have to go back to that can’t wait a few weeks? People who will worry about you?”
Fallon shook her head. She’d deliberately not contacted her family. Her mother had a weakened heart; her brothers and sisters had their own lives to deal with and besides, she didn’t want the entire O’Connell clan rushing to her side, smothering her with well-meant love and sympathy. Not yet.
“A man?”
She looked up. Stefano’s eyes were dark.
“No,” she said. “There’s no one.”