Dark Angel

‘Every minute on the minute. I’ve been obsessed. It can only be because five years back, you’re the one that got away…’ Luciano admitted as the sheer seductive power of his own relaxation took over.

Kerry froze.

Appreciating too late what he had let slip, Luciano framed a soundless swear word above her head.

‘It’s the same for me,’ Kerry whispered back sweet as saccharine and felt the big, powerful length of him tauten against her. ‘I knew you had a reputation for being good at this caper, and at twenty-six years old I thought it was time I—’

‘No, you didn’t. Don’t cheapen yourself by talking like that!’ Luciano grated angrily. ‘Virgins don’t think that way—’

‘How would you know?’

Luciano thought about that and frustration made him simmer like oil in a boiling cauldron. He just knew he was special to her but to say so might suggest that he was arrogant, which he knew he was not. ‘I know…OK?’

Kerry was very pale. So, on his terms, she was the one who had got away, was she? The only woman he had not scored with? Could Luciano be that caveman basic? She decided he might well be. Pulling free of him in hurt rejection, she scrambled out of bed. Making for the first door her tearful gaze lit on, she found herself in a bathroom and hurtled thankfully into the shelter of the shower cubicle. She remembered the rose he had given her, the reference to the fantasy, and a rueful smile tinged her lips. He was telling her stuff that once he would never have told her. Some of it was bound to be total rubbish, wasn’t it?

Luciano groaned out loud. Why was she the only female he blew it with on a regular basis? He sprang out of bed, went through one of the other two doors available and discovered that there were two adjoining bathrooms. That infuriated him because it would not be cool to insist on sharing a shower with her when there was no need to do so. When he returned to the bedroom, Kerry was back in bed pretending to be asleep. He decided to settle for that, for she was at least still within reach.

When he wakened at some timeless hour of the night, disorientated and in the grip of his usual nightmares, Kerry had both arms wrapped round him. ‘Where do you go in those dreams of yours?’ she whispered.

He breathed in deep and slowly exhaled again. ‘Back to that cell eight feet wide by ten feet deep—’

‘It was…that small?’ She sounded shocked.

‘I had to share it too…no big deal.’ Luciano strove hard for a macho shrug of indifference even when his

heart was still thumping with sick fear in his chest.

That must have been torture for a loner who had always cherished privacy, Kerry reflected painfully. In the darkness, her eyes were wet. ‘If you’d phoned me or written to me just one time, just one line, even one word—’

Luciano froze and yanked himself free of her embrace. ‘Per meraviglia! Why would I have wanted to do that?’

‘Are you planning to punish me forever?’

He raised himself against the pillows. ‘I’m not punishing you…What do you think I am? A cross little boy?’

Sometimes his emotional responses seemed disturbingly similar. He lived in rigorous denial of his own anger and pain, she thought ruefully. That anger and pain got to leap out of his subconscious and attack him only while he slept. Silence fell. The gap between them widened. When she wakened soon after eight, she was alone.

A maid brought her fruit, fresh baked rolls and coffee while she sat at a shaded stone table out on the terrace. A glorious new day had dawned to display the colourful living tapestry of the Tuscan countryside. She could see fields of waving green grain and golden rape interspersed with silvery green olive groves and orchards. Here and there rows of fresh lime-green grape vines marched up the slopes with geometric exactitude, but the valley still rejoiced in dense tracts of natural woodland.

She was finishing her breakfast when a phone was brought to her.

‘Good morning,’ her sister, Misty, declared chirpily, making Kerry sit up straight with a frown of surprise.

‘How did you know where I was? How did you even get this phone number?’

‘Do I have to confess to being a snoop?’ Misty groaned in comical apology. ‘We spent years looking for you and we really would die if we lost track of you now! Will you give me some tips in advance of meeting Grandpa and Grandma? I’ve heard this vague rumour that our grandparents may be rather individual personalities.’

Involuntarily, Kerry smiled. ‘That’s not a rumour.’

Almost an hour passed while she talked to her sister. When the call ended, Kerry was amazed that they had chatted for so long without any awkwardness. But then, Luciano’s name had not been mentioned once. She was convinced, however, that once he allowed her sisters to buy back the castle, their hostility towards him would vanish. Was it disloyal of her to still want to get to know her siblings even though they had threatened Luciano? Presumably, though, there would be no further threats. How loyal ought she to be to a male who had yet to utter a caring word to her? Without further hesitation she decided that she was right to pursue further contact with her sisters.

Mid-morning, Luciano strode out onto the terrace. Faded denim jeans hugged his long, powerful thighs, a casual aqua shirt accentuating his bronzed skin. He sank down in a fluid motion into the seat beside hers. Lean, handsome features taut, bright eyes veiled, he set another white rosebud down on the table-top next to her hand. She glanced at it, then ignored the offering with pointed determination. In a sudden movement, Luciano leant forward, curved one hand to the nape of her neck to entrap her and brought his sensual mouth down in hungry appeal on hers. Her body tightened and tingled, terrifingly eager to respond.

He lifted his proud dark head again. ‘I went out very early. The vines are beautiful at dawn when the dew rises off the ground like a mist…tomorrow morning I’ll take you out with me.’

Grapevines at dawn…how could she resist such an invitation?

The rose, the kiss, the vines, all evasion tactics to keep her from discussing more controversial topics. ‘Last night—’ Kerry dared unsteadily.