Silence gathered and Julia could feel the fingers of her right hand grinding into her left one the rings that she wore. A gust of cigar smoke hovered and drifted from Rome's direction, and then her heart lurched as his eyes caught at hers before she could look away. His gaze was so penetrating that it seemed to reach down inside her, and again she felt as if something twisted in her body and her teeth bit down on her lower lip.
'Julia is an American,' he said. 'They have a less sentimental view of these matters.'
'But anyone can see that Julia is a woman of feeling.' Ramona reached across and pressed her hand. 'Madre di Gesu, but your hand is icy! Are you cold on such a warm night?'
'I—I'm always naturally cool—' Julia swallowed and reached to the cane table for her wine, half-wondering if Rome would make some sardonic comment.
'I do like your dress,' she said quickly to Ramona; it was of supple silk, the bodice casually draped, the long skirt patterned with big black dahlias. 'Did you buy it in Madrid? I've heard the shops are very good there.'
'Yes, Madrid. I spoil myself and have my own dressmaker there.' Ramona moved her eyes over Julia. 'I admire the way you keep yourself attractive; some women don't bother at all when they are pregnant, as if the husband ceases to matter for a while. You obviously wish for Rome always to find your company sweet and nice. I hope, Rome, that you appreciate the effort from a wife heavy with child?'
'Of course I do.' His eyes were upon Julia as she drank from her wine glass, and she felt as if hot little wires were being pulled through her collarbones and down through her rib-cage. She was full of odd little feelings these days and could only connect them with her condition.
'I think Julia must know that, at least,' he added. 'It's in her nature to be chic, and I remember that even as a child she always looked as nice and neat as a sprig of lemon, her long hair in a ribbon and shining like lemon fruit. Upon one occasion I was a bad boy and dropped strawberry ice-cream all over her shoes—I made her cry.'
'You wicked devil!' Ramona gave him a rap on the wrist with her fan. 'I was telling Julia earlier today that I longed to see the two of you together. You are so opposite in colouring that I wonder who the baby will resemble.'
'Rome,' Julia said quietly. 'Darkness is more dominant than fairness.'
'But what of the eyes?' Ramona exclaimed. 'Yours are green and Rome's are grey, and I predict that your child will have eyes that combine those two colours. Don't the two of you find it exciting wondering what this new little personality will be like and how he or she will grow up?'
This time that stab and twist feeling was so distinct in her body that Julia couldn't suppress a gasp.
'Is anything wrong?' Rome demanded, as if he were keyed in to her reactions.
'Just funny little sensations.' She leaned back carefully in her armchair. 'I believe your baby, Rome, is becoming impatient to see what kind of a world we live in.'
'It has its perfect moments.' Ramona was gazing at the sky. 'That great moon makes me feel very mortal, and yet I believe that life has no mortality between people who are truly in love. Or am I an incurable romantic?'
'Women react to the moon, and moonlight certainly be-comes women.' Rome had risen from his chair as if suddenly he felt restive. He moved across to the parapet where Vitale was standing and gazed down at the sea, his profile etched fine and strong against the moonlit sky. The sea and the beach held his gaze for several minutes, until abruptly he turned his back on them.
'Love is a revelation and no man has to be a saint to experience it.' Don Vitale held his cigar halfway to his lips and his smile didn't quite hide the menace in his nature. 'A man must give thanks when the arrow hits him square in the solar plexus. I know I do!'
'You speak, querido, as if this arrow of love only attacks men,' said Ramona, her fan poised against her lips.
'Women are love; they are the embodiment of it, like salt on me table and sugar in the jam.' He strolled across the terrazza to her and leaned down to kiss her cheek. He caught Julia's gaze and winked at her. 'When a Spanish woman places the fan at her lips she's inviting herself to be kissed. These women are quite flirtatious, you know, in their subtle way.'
'What would you do, Vitale, if I flirted with other men?' Ramona asked him, stroking her fan against his hardened cheek.
'I might take your lovely neck in my hands and snap it in half.' His fingers touched her necklace of black pearls from which was suspended a milky pearl heart. His fingers locked about the gem and Julia had the feeling that Ramona's living heart was held just as securely in Vitale's strong hand.
'Latin men are such ruthless lovers,' Ramona smiled, 'and only a foolish woman would want it otherwise. Don't you agree with me, Julia?'
'I agree that they're ruthless,' she replied, and without glancing at Rome she was aware of him leaning with dark grace against the parapet that jutted above the beach where the sea tossed back and forth on the shingle. There on a night like this one she had seen the moon turn to fire in his eyes when he made her surrender to him… afterwards she had said things that turned the glow to grey ashes.
'Ruthless and yet romantic,' Ramona murmured. 'Saudade, we call it; an awareness that no matter how physically close we might get to another human being, we are never going to know completely what that person is feeling and thinking. When we love we are as helpless as stars that might fall out of heaven at any moment. Rather fearful in a way.'
'But also exciting, carissima.' Vitale touched the gold bracelet on Ramona's arm. 'In a few days' time we shall be married, and if you fall at any time, I shall be there to catch you.'
'Yes.' She met his dark eyes and caught her breath audibly at what she saw in them. 'You will be there, querido?
He nodded his reassurance, and then turned to look at Rome. 'We are grateful to you, compare, for saying we might stay at Domani until the wedding, though it goes without saying that I shall stay in the village the night before the ceremony.'
'If only my family were going to be there,' Ramona sighed.
'It has to be me or your family, carissima. We have discussed this so often, so be very sure—'
'I am very sure that I love you, Vitale.' Ramona spoke with a deep, warm fervency. 'If I can't be with you, then I'm not really living. You—you alone matter beyond anything, and I say this in front of Julia and Rome because they must feel the same way about each other. Unless one lives with the person one loves, then life has no real meaning. I wanted my family to accept you, but if they can't then it is better to have friends who bring no doubts but only good feeling to our wedding.'
She turned to Julia and reached out to touch her hand. 'You will be well enough to attend, cara?'
'Of course,' Julia smiled. 'I wouldn't miss your wedding for anything, and I'm assured by my doctor that the baby isn't due until a fortnight after the ceremony. I know I look huge, but—'
'You look charming,' Ramona said quickly. 'As Rome is to be Vitale's best man, then I wish you to give me away.'
'Like this?' Julia smiled uncertainly, and then found herself looking at Rome for his reaction. He was frowning slightly, as if the idea didn't really appeal to him.
'What do you think, Rome?' she asked. 'Would you mind?'
'I'm agreeable if it won't be a strain on you, Julia,' he said, a little to her surprise. She had thought that he didn't like the idea of her being on show in front of the congregation; a wedding in the village church was bound to attract people, and Vitale was arranging that the local inn lay on a spread of food, with the traditional roasted pig. The villagers loved a party and they'd flock to the event.
'I'm sure I shall be all right,' she said. 'Everyone knows about the baby, so I shan't feel too conspicuous.'
'Then by all means give Ramona away, but I'm going to insist that you return home early from the party. I forbid any undue risk at this stage, Julia.'
'Of course,' she said, and refrained from adding in front of company that she knew he was concerned for the child and not for her. She d
idn't wish to disillusion Ramona, who took it for granted that she and Rome were madly in love and expecting a child who was the result of their passion for each other.
'Have you decided where you're going for a honeymoon?' she asked Ramona.
'We are going to Venice where we met three years ago. Vitale has booked us a suite in a lovely old palazzo and we shall do all the romantic things, such as holding hands in a gondola as it glides along the canals.'
'Which, my sweet,' Vitale drawled, 'are never too salubrious.'
'What if they aren't?' she chided him. 'People on honeymoon should only be aware of each other, and I shall expect your exclusive attention day and night.'
'I promise to give it, carissima.' His smile was slightly wicked, and he stood watching as in something of confusion Ramona opened her silk fan and fluttered it against her flushed cheeks.
'Don't look at me like that,' she pleaded. 'Not until the good cura gives you permission to do so!'
He laughed quietly, and all at once Julia felt rather depressed and decided it was time for her to retire to her room. She edged forward in her chair as she prepared to rise rather cumbersomely to her feet, and in a stride Rome was suddenly there and her hands were gripped strongly as he raised her to her feet. Her gaze lifted to his face, but it was courteous and unreadable.
'We are going to leave you lovebirds alone in the moonlight,' he said, sharing a glance between Ramona and Vitale. 'You know where your rooms are, and if you wish for anything at all my man Giovanni will be of immediate service. May you both rest in peace under my roof.'
'Mille gracias, Rome.' Ramona extended a hand to Vitale, who took it at once. 'You cannot imagine how grateful we are to you and Julia. It's so good to have such kind friends.'
'I'm glad we're friends.' As Julia spoke she felt Rome slide an arm around her and press his hand against the full-ness of her waist, a protective gesture, she knew, rather than a loving one.
'Being here at Domani will always be a warm memory for us.' Ramona drew Vitale's hand to her cheek. 'Love is such a precious emotion and when two people bring it to life between them, then they must guard it like a flame from the wind. They must nourish it with tolerance and tenderness. Always remember, Rome, that women are vulnerable and that life is more merciless towards them. Very soon Julia will undergo an experience that you may only imagine, so try to share her pain as you have shared her pleasure.'
Rome inclined his head. 'Buona notte, my friends.'
He walked with Julia to the staircase, still holding his arm around her. At the foot of the stairs she attempted to disengage herself. 'I'll be all right, Rome.'
'I'll come up with you,' he said firmly.
'We haven't an audience now, Rome.' The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. 'You no longer have to impress anybody with a show of concern for me.'
'Nor you with a show of sweetness,' he rejoined, 'but all the same I'll come with you. You are looking tired.' His arm remained in its firm position about her body as they mounted the stairs. 'Are you quite sure you want to give Ramona away at the wedding, Julia? Don't agree to it just to please her. She can be very beguiling, but she'll understand if you don't really want to do it.'
'I'd like to, if you don't think I'll look too conspicuous.'
'I'm concerned for your well-being,' he replied.
'Rome,' a hint of tiredness crept into Julia's voice, 'don't you mean that you're concerned that I do nothing to risk the well-being of the baby? I hope to God nothing goes wrong, because you'll be bound to blame me! I showed Ramona the nursery and she was amazed by all those toys. I could tell what she was thinking, that it doesn't always do to want something with all your heart. I—I've seen you watching every step I take. You drum it into Lucie to make sure I rest each day. You give orders to Cosenza about the food I should eat. I hate yoghurt and often feel more like eating sausages or ice-cream.'
'Strawberry?' he murmured, a quizzical gleam in his eyes as they met hers. When they paused at the bedroom door, he touched a finger to the crescents of shadow beneath her eyes. 'Don't think I have no concern for you, Julia. I am daily aware of what you are going to face and you have seemed very tense this evening. Would you like me to stay with you tonight?'
Her eyes widened and her surprise mingled with a certain longing, which she instantly suppressed. 'No, I shall be fine,' she said coolly.
'Don't be foolish, Julia. I'm not a boor who is asking for your body—as if I would! But the nights can seem long and the things we fear seem to come closer to us in the darkness. You are soon to have my child and I wish to be of some help to you. Don't shut me out of something we both have a share in.'
'I'm not afraid of the pain,' she said. 'The pleasure was yours—'
'That isn't the whole truth, my dear. It never was.'
'How do you know what my feelings were?'
'Because you were in my arms and when a man holds a woman that close he feels her reactions as he feels his own. Santo Dio, why do you persist in denying that when we made the baby we had a mutual joy from it!'
'Don't—how can you say that? We were strangers after all those years and you speak as if—as if that night in Naples was a kind of romantic reunion a-and nothing could have stopped what happened. You want to ease your con-science because the real truth is that you wanted to punish a Van Holden for the hard times your mother had to face. That's the reality, Rome, not the fiction you've dreamed up for yourself. When I left the casino that morning I felt like a tramp as I walked along the seafront. I felt as if it showed that I'd been in your arms the entire night—a man who promised he'd make me feel cheap!'
'Not cheap,' he said grimly. 'You go too far, Julia!'
'I felt so ashamed, so low, my pride was crawling along the ground!'
He gazed down at her, his jaw set and hard, the cleft deeply shadowed at its centre. 'I never meant to make you feel like that. I let you leave the casino alone because that was what you wanted—'
'Wasn't it a little late to give me what I wanted, Rome? Couldn't you have done that before we had to end up married to each other?'
'I take it you prefer to be alone tonight?' He removed his arm from around her and thrust his hands into his pockets.
'Yes.' Her face was a quiet mask of pride. 'I won't give you the satisfaction of helping me through the next twenty-one days. I can do it alone. It's good practice for when I leave here—alone. I know you won't let me take the baby with me.'
'No.' His face was adamant. 'The child belongs here at Domani with me!'
'At least I know where I stand.' Julia opened the bedroom door. 'I'd like you to allow Lucie to stay and be the baby's nurse. You won't find a better or kinder nurse and I'll know the baby is in good hands.'
'I'd like that as well.' His face and voice were devoid of expression. 'I hoped we could be friends—'
'Friends?' She smiled at the idea. 'Even when we were children we couldn't be—I used to think it was my grandmother's over-protectiveness where Verna and I were concerned, but it's something else that gets in the way— something without a name. I used to be aware of it when we were young. Speaking to other children was easy, but when I looked at you I felt tongue-tied. When I did try to break down whatever it was between us, you glared at me with your grey eyes and flung my offering all over my shoes. I thought I cried over the shoes, but I know now that I cried because I felt hurt. Goodnight, Rome.'
She entered the bedroom and closed the door on his tall darkness and brooding face. Tiredly she leaned her shoulders against the door and felt an ache low down in her back. As she rubbed the ache with her hand, tears glittered in her eyes. She had chosen to be alone, but the night ahead stretched into a darkness where something waited, patient and sinister, so that she hastily put on the lights and glanced around the big, silvery room. All was quiet and reposeful, yet she shivered as she stood at the dressing-mirror and unpinned her hair, which fell in glimmering fairness about her shoulders.
The feeling persisted that
a dark shadow stood waiting behind her, and with a gasp she tugged at the bell-pull that would bring Lucie to her.
When Lucie came into the room she was carrying a small tray with a dish on it and there was a glimmer of pinkness through the glass container on the dish.
'Mr Rome came to the kitchen and said you might fancy some ice-cream, so I've brought you some.'
Julia felt the tip of her tongue move involuntarily around her lips. 'My throat is rather dry,' she said huskily.
'Then hop into bed and have it there,' Lucie smiled. 'It's strawberry ice-cream.'
A reluctant smile tugged at Julia's lips. What was it about Rome that had always eluded her, as if she knew him almost as she knew herself, and the next instant didn't know him at all?
'The signore did say as well that you'd probably enjoy some fried sausages, but we don't want you awake half the night with indigestion, do we?'
Julia gave a slight laugh. The bedroom felt warm again and for now the dark shadow had retreated into its hiding place. Installed in bed with her ice-cream she looked, Lucie said, just like a small girl again enjoying a clandestine treat.
'Some small girl,' Julia scoffed, patting her stomach. 'I hope the little devil is enjoying the treat. While we were sitting on the terrazza he gave such a turn inside me I thought I'd faint.'
'What sort of a turn?' Lucie looked concerned. 'A painful one?'
'An impatient one. He's tired of me and wants his father.' Julia kept her gaze lowered as she finished the ice-cream. 'Rome wants you to stay on as nurse, Lucie. I hope you will.'
'We'll discuss it when the time comes, Miss Julia.' Lucie took the empty dish. 'You won't be able to give that baby up, not if I know you.'
'Rome won't give him up—he's already said so.'
'What an obstinate pair you are! The little mite isn't born yet, and already he's a tug-of-love baby.'
Julia winced and slid down carefully in the big bed, as wide as it was long and meant to be shared by someone else. She drew the silky covers to her chin and allowed the physical weariness to creep over her. She didn't want to think about tomorrow, she wanted to dream tonight that she was safe in strong arms and loved as she knew somewhere in her soul it was possible to be loved. She could smile now at the tepid emotions she had shared with Paul Wineman; she had grown up since those days and sensed that love could be powerfully divine… if only she could reach it. She felt sometimes that it was there beyond her dreams, so that waking one day she might find that the dream had turned into a reality.
Desire Has No Mercy Page 16
