Loving Venus (Sally-Ann Jones Sexy Romance) (18 page)

BOOK: Loving Venus (Sally-Ann Jones Sexy Romance)
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Again, the trip in the Bentley was mostly silent, punctuated only with Annabella’s questions about Eduardo and Alessandro’s brief answers.

     “How old is he?”

     “The same age as you.”

     “Does he like Casa dei Fiori?”

     “Doesn’t everybody?”

     In the end, she gave up and tried to concentrate on the scenery, although her eyes were drawn to the way the cotton of his cream chinos strained over his thighs, to the dark hair on his muscular forearms, the strong, long fingers. She dared not look at his face, yet she longed, as she had the previous night, to trace the hard jaw line with her tongue and kiss the cheeks where the long eyelashes brushed them.

 

“We are so glad you have come,” Sister Perpetua told them as she led them down a long, vine-clad walkway from the front entrance of the secluded convent to a modern, squat building where several people reclined in wheelchairs or day-beds on a wide verandah overlooking a garden of lavender, geraniums and citrus trees in massive terracotta pots after Alessandro had introduced her to Annabella.

     “Poor Eduardo has been very distressed lately,” the nun explained. “Every day, he gets himself dressed and waits by the front door for your great grandfather to visit him. We tried to explain to him that Signor de Rocco has gone to God, but he refuses to believe us. Now nearly two months have gone by since he last saw the good gentleman and he is more and more sad. Yesterday, he said he wouldn
’t eat.

     “We concocted all his favourite things. Ravioli. Custard horns. Bocconcini salad. Nothing tempted him. He merely sat on the big chair in the front hall, watching all the visitors who come and go. Every time the door opens, he looks up with hope in his eyes. Then, he is disappointed and hangs his head until the door opens again.”

    “He wasn’t by the door just now,” Annabella commented. “Where is he this morning?”

     “He didn
’t eat all day yesterday, and missed his breakfast today. So he’s feeling dizzy and weak. We persuaded him to rest in his bed. He’s in his room, Signorina. He doesn’t know you’re coming. But I know he’ll be very glad to meet you, and to be taken home for a little while.”

     She led them inside the building, down a tiled corridor whose length was interspersed with wall-niches bearing vases of fresh roses, bowls of figs and grapes or statues of the Madonna. There was none of the unpleasant smell Annabella always associated with hospitals and most of the rooms they passed had their doors open and their occupants sitting, reading newspapers, watching television or talking with visitors. There was a feeling of calm industry and kindness which Annabella liked.

     “Here he is,” the nun whispered to the cousins, pushing the half-open door. “See? He is asleep. Poor Eduardo. Exhausted by his starvation diet. Come, I will try to wake him.’

     They entered the spotless room, where a big tank containing water, pebbles, pond-weed and a salamander occupied a table by the window. Eduardo, huddled under a white sheet, was barely visible, he was so slight he barely made a bump in the bed. Sister Perpetua bent and spoke quietly into his ear, shaking him gently as she did so.

     Eventually, he stirred and rubbed his eyes. He grasped the nun as she levered him into a sitting position and gazed confusedly around the room. Then he noticed his brother standing in the doorway, with a beautiful flame-haired woman.

     “Annabella!” he cried, laughing like a child. “I know all about you!”

 

                                CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

He held out his skinny arms to her and she went into them as naturally as if she
’d known him all her life.

     They cuddled each other for several minutes before his arms weakened and dropped to his sides. But his smile didn
’t fade as Annabella looked at him. There were dimples on either side of his wide mouth, glittering, feverish black eyes that reminded her of olives and a mop of unruly, dark brown curly hair. Where Alessandro looked strong and decidedly masculine, Eduardo was softer, his features rounded like a boy’s, his skin pale. His shoulders were hunched, his body twisted and weak.

     “We’ve come to take you home,” Alessandro said, coming forward.

     Eduardo’s grin widened. “Al!” he said, holding up his arms for another embrace. “They try to tell me that great grandpapa is in heaven but I won’t believe them. Why won’t he come and see me too?”

    “We’ll talk about all that later,” his brother said, cradling him. “Right now, let’s get you all packed up.”

     “Rosa too?” Eduardo asked, stricken, pulling himself away.

     Alessandro nodded resignedly. “Of course. It’s taken us years to be able to persuade the nuns to let you have her. There’s no way we’re going to leave her behind.”

     Eduardo threw off the covers and lifted his thin, misshapen legs down to the floor. Annabella was shocked to see how weak he was but, despite her natural urge to help him, restrained herself. She instinctively knew he would prefer the dignity of doing things for himself. But Alessandro went to him, a caring hand on the small of his back. However, Eduardo pulled himself away, saying, “I do it myself” and began taking some clothes from his bedside drawers – a bright yellow surf T-shirt of the kind teenagers wear, jeans, socks with Bart Simpson logos.

     “We’ll wait in the corridor while you dress yourself, Eduardo,” Sister Perpetua said, standing aside to let the visitors through the door. “Just call out when you’re ready.”  
      “I’ll bring him back when he’s eating again,” Alessandro told the nun.

     Sister nodded her acquiescence and said, “We
’ll fall in with your wishes, Signor de Rocco.”

     Annabella wondered if she were imagining it – or had the older woman seemed disappointed that Eduardo would soon be returned? Perhaps she thought he
’d be better at home.

     Eduardo called to them in barely more than a minute. He was dressed, but with his T-shirt on back-to-front and his shoes on the wrong feet.

     “Your shirt’s on wrong,” Alessandro commented in a helpful way, surpised when the nun shot him an angry look.

     “It looks fine,” Annabella assured Eduardo when the younger brother’s face fell. “Now tell, me, what’s the salamander’s name?”

     “Rosa,” he beamed. “Like the name of the village near home.”

     Home, thought Annabella. He thinks of it as home yet it
’s years since he lived there. And I think of it as home too, although I’ve only been there a few weeks. How must Alessandro feel, not owning it any more yet living so close?

      Soon they had all climbed into the Bentley, the salamander safely on the back seat in its aquarium, Annabella beside it, Eduardo riding in front with his brother.

     Sister Perpetua and some of the other nuns came to wave goodbye, presenting them with a basket of food and wine for a picnic on the way.

     For a few miles, Eduardo chatted happily, but soon fell into a restless sleep. Annabella, in the silence, was consumed again by thoughts of the magical night in the Bentley. Had she but known it, Alessandro was too.

    At Eduardo’s insistence, they stopped for lunch at a grassy bend in the river whose waters also flowed beneath the hill on which Casa dei Fiori was perched. Alessandro made sure the Bentley was parked in the shade so the salamander wouldn’t overheat. After their meal, Eduardo wandered along the pebble-strewn bank, watching the ripples his tossed stones made while the others stretched under a grove of ilex trees and enjoyed the lazy afternoon. Dragonflies, their wings like tiny rainbows reflecting the light, danced in the air and little birds dive-bombed the water, sipping beakfuls before skipping skywards.

     Alessandro had to clench his fist to prevent his hand reaching out for her. He felt strangely content, with his brother playing safely on the river’s edge, his second-cousin an arm’s length away. They were, he reasoned, his only family. Even with her Doc Martens and torn jeans, she was a blood relative. And Eduardo, despite his intellectual and physical shortcomings, could be enchanting.

     Annabella longed to tumble into Alessandro’s arms and feel his hot, hard body again. Smell the heady blend of healthy male sweat, soap and baby shampoo that had so intoxicated her during their unforgettable night together. But she knew he’d push her disgustedly away, reminding her again of all the reasons why she wasn’t good enough for him.

     As she
’d been musing, she lost sight momentarily of Eduardo. Then she saw him again, bending over the water intently, his hands wet.

     “Help!” she heard him cry. “Oh please, help me!”

     Annabella got to her feet and was beside him in a second, Alessandro inches behind her.

     “What is it,
caro?
” she demanded, seeing his tear-stained face.

     “My salamander,” he wailed, pointing to the river. “I thought she’d like a swim so I went to the car and got her out and she’s in there somewhere.”

     “We can easily buy you another,” Alessandro said, squatting beside him and putting an arm over his shoulder.

     “No!” shouted Eduardo, shrugging off the arm angrily. “I want Rosa!”

     “I’ll try to find her,” Annabella said, unlacing her boots and stripping off her jeans, revealing a minimal G-string underneath. “Close your eyes,” she warned, tossing off her top as well and splashing into the water without turning around.

     Alessandro watched her lithe, supple body with growing agony. She was driving him crazy! But Eduardo was oblivious to her beauty, standing on his tip-toes to cheer as she dived down to the pebbled riverbank, then up again, over and over.

     To all their amazement, after about five minutes, she surfaced, victoriously holding the pinkish creature aloft.

     “Hooray!” shouted Eduardo, clapping and jumping excitedly. “You
’re a star, Bella.”

     For a mad second, she completely forgot that she was topless and wearing only the briefest underwear. Then she caught sight of Alessandro’s stricken face and rushed to the shore, thrust the salamander into Eduardo’s ecstatic hand and pulled her T-shirt over her head.

     He obviously disapproves of me, she thought despairingly. A real lady would never have behaved like that.

     But she couldn
’t have been further from the truth. As she emerged from the greenish water, her body gleaming, the sun caressing it so she seemed carved from gold, she had looked like a goddess. With her red-blonde hair in damp ringlets down her back, her eyes full of laughter, her beautiful, full mouth curved into a wide smile, she was spectacular. You’re torturing me, great-grandpapa, he cursed silently.

     Eduardo was so happy, however, he realized, it was almost worth it. Almost. In all the years since their parents’ death, he had rarely laughed. Even the old man hadn
’t had the knack of cheering him. But Annabella seemed to be able to.

     But he couldn
’t let her see that he was mollified – and, instead, he said gruffly, “You’re indecent, Annabella. Get some clothes on.”

     “She hasn’t any,” Eduardo laughed, clutching Rosa.

     At that, they all turned from their contemplation of the river to see a goat contentedly chewing her jeans, having already reduced her top to a few tangles of thread.

     “Lord, spare me!” Alessandro sighed, doing his best to ignore the delighted laughter of the other two and trying to suppress his own grin of amusement. He remarked, hoping he sounded cross, “At least we have a picnic blanket. Wrap yourself in that.”

 

 

Soon, they were all back in the car, where Annabella and Eduardo fell into innocent sleep, leaving Alessandro to negotiate the busy, winding roads. Occasionally, he stole a glance in the rear vision mirror, unable to help himself. She was cramped into a corner of the back seat, most of which was occupied by the salamander’s aquarium. And, although wrapped in the blanket, he could glimpse the pale ivory of her throat and the gradual swell down to a breast that was tantalizingly hidden.

     He moved uncomfortably on the seat, knowing only another cold shower would help when they arrived at Casa dei Fiori. When he pulled up at the house to let Annabella and Eduardo out before taking the Bentley round to the garage, he was relieved to see a familiar, perfectly-groomed figure emerge from the shadow of the portico.

     “
Caro!
” crooned Claudia, looking distastefully first at Eduardo in his muddy jeans and back-to-front T-shirt but leaving most of her scorn for Annabella, wrapped in the blanket that was covered in grass-seeds. “I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you! But I can’t say that for the company you keep. And the car. It’s magnificent. I didn’t know you owned such a beast.”

     “It is my second cousin’s,” he answered bitterly, although his anger had arisen, inexplicably, he thought, from his neighbour’s unexpected arrival on the scene. She looked more than presentable, he had to concede, in a sleeveless gold-lame top that plunged to reveal the deep tan of the cleavage between her taut little breasts and showed off her strong, lean arms with their well-defined muscles. A tight black mini-skirt in a satin material made sure her toned, shapely legs were well-revealed and her high gold stiletto sandals made her calf-muscles seem even more prominent and advertised her toe-nails which, like those of her fingers, were long and painted gold, with a decal of tiny pouting red lips on the very tips.

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