A Court Gesture

by Jenny Gardiner

  “So, uh, there’s other stuff but I think this is what compelled me to stop by,” she said. “I hope that’s okay.”

  She worried that perhaps now was when the lightning bolt would appear out of nowhere and smite her, but it didn’t. Instead, the priest absolved her of her sins, suggested she listen to her heart, and say ten Hail Marys and recite the Act of Contrition.

  “Thank you, Father,” she said. “I really appreciate your time and your kind suggestions. I will listen to my heart and see if it has any good advice. And I’ll get right on those prayers. I can still remember the former, but the other one, I was always really bad at committing that to memory. In fact, I thought I’d never pass my confession test back in high school. I think they didn’t want to have any dropouts so they let me slide.”

  She thought she might have heard the priest laughing on the other side of the dark screen. She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to stick around to find out, so she quickly slipped out of the confessional box before she hammered any more nails into her moral coffin.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Luca watched through slitted eyes, in case she’d even noticed him asleep. He didn’t want her to know he was observing her as she walked in that slow one-step-two-step manner in which a bride would march down the aisle in a church. She probably had no clue she was even doing that, nor that her hands were clasped at her waist as if holding on to a bouquet of flowers. He chuckled to himself. That poor woman must get tangled in knots of uncertainty over whether to be the hard-hearted Hannah she showed him at times or soft-souled Suzie, who he suspected veered closer to the true Larkin.

  She stood as close to the altar as she could, a dreamy look in her eyes, so lost in thought he hadn’t the heart to interrupt her. Best to leave her to her own musings. He could chill a little longer. He then noticed she meandered on over to the confessional boxes, and after the previous occupant departed, she slipped in.

  Oh to be a fly on the wall in there. He imagined the priest was scratching his head in confusion, trying to figure out what it was she was even saying to him.

  It was a good ten minutes or so until she finally made her way to where Luca was sitting. She nudged him gently on his shoulder.

  “Looks like you had a good sleep,” she said. “While the rest of us were getting a little culture.” But then she looked a little stricken and softened her comments. “I mean, you must’ve been super tired to fall asleep in here. Hope the nap helped.”

  Luca looked to his left and right, wondering if there was some hidden camera trying to capture his reactions to her latest remarks, which came across downright empathetic.

  “Thanks,” he said, figuring he’d take them at face value. “I’ve had a hard week.” He stood up, reached out his hand. “You ready to head back to my place?”

  She nodded, looking a little bit sheepish.

  He held her hand with the lightest of grips, exposure therapy, he kept telling himself as they returned to the car.

  The rest of the trip was uneventful as their driver navigated the streets of Porto Castello en route to the palace, and Luca hoped his home wouldn’t just intimidate her into even more erratic behavior.

  ~*~

  Larkin was exhausted after her emotional rollercoaster of an afternoon. She felt so much more at peace right now, but she still just needed to close her eyes to get her head back on straight. And as much as she wanted desperately to pay attention to every turn the car made on its way to the palace, instead she passed out cold.

  She had no idea how much time had passed before she started to stir, thanks to a trickle of saliva trailing along the side of her chin. Perfect. She swiped at that, closed her eyes, and snuggled in. Because actually what did feel pretty darned good was the soft, rhythmic sensation of someone’s fingers gently massaging her scalp. For as long as she could remember, having her head scratched was her Kryptonite. Luckily no one realized that all they had to do was give her a soothing scalp massage and the keys to the vault would be theirs.

  She moaned and burrowed her head in. If her earlier body language had been saying “get the hell out of here,” her current maneuvers seemed to say something along the lines of “More, more!”

  Finally, her eyes opened and she looked around to figure out where she was. It had grown dark outside, but she could make out the creamy white interior of the car. Was she still in the car? With Luca? And if so, where was he? Her hand reached out, touching surfaces to discern what was what. She felt beneath her head and fingered the soft yet scratchy surface of some sort of fabric. But the more she pressed with her fingers, the more the terrain was literally shifting beneath them. She rolled her head a bit and heard a deep, aching groan. She opened her eyes all the way, and looked up, only to see Luca’s head above her, his eyes closed. So it was his fingers on her scalp. And her fingers on his—

  Oh, God.

  Her head was resting so comfortably right in the crook of his lap. His warm, welcoming lap that seemed to respond instantly to her probing fingers, which weren’t actually probing at all, but rather trying to figure out where she was.

  She sat up fast, her head banging into his chin as she did so. “Oh, Luca, I’m really sorry,” she said, rubbing his chin as she rubbed her head where the sharp bone hit. Luca hit the overhead light, bathing the car’s interior with warm light, illuminating them both. Larkin looked down to where her curious fingers had been not thirty seconds earlier and saw that her maneuvering achieved a desired effect, at least on Luca’s end, with a telltale bulge in his pants that caused him to shift in his seat.

  “Mornin’, sleeping beauty,” he said as she tried to rid her brain of its torpor.

  “What time is it?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. “How long did I sleep?”

  “It’s about seven o’clock,” he said. “I think you were out for a good ninety minutes or so. I fell asleep myself, so I can’t say for sure.”

  She looked up front. “Where’d Jerome go?”

  Luca waved his hand. “I let him go as soon as we got here,” he said. “He’s got a new bride waiting for him at home. No sense making him sit in the car waiting for us to wake up.”

  “That was sweet of you,” she said. “Oh, darn it. I missed the grand entrance to the palace. I was so hoping to see it all lit up and everything.”

  Luca shrugged. “The good news is you’ve got all weekend,” he said. “This place isn’t going anywhere. I’ll be sure next time, you get a good, long look at the place.”

  “I’m so embarrassed that I fell asleep in the car. Why did you let me sleep like that?”

  He smiled. “Well, to tell the truth, I wasn’t so inclined to poke the bear.”

  She blushed. “Sorry,” she said. “I guess I’ve earned a reputation for being a bit cross.”

  “A bit cross, on occasion, I can’t argue with that. Besides, you were so calm, it was nice to just watch you be at peace for a while. Not that you aren’t normally,” he said. “But just something about a sleeping woman that makes my heart swell.”

  Seemed to make something else swell, for that matter, Larkin thought, with a surprising sense of pride that she had the power to do that to him. Which was weird that she was even thinking along those lines—it was so unlike her. But for that fleeting moment, he was making her feel good, and she was, unbeknownst to herself, making him feel good, and the two of them seemed so perfectly content. Maybe that wasn’t a bad place to be.

  “I hope no one was expecting us for anything,” she said.

  “Not to worry,” he said. “I didn’t want to cram your schedule full and decided we could play things by ear anyhow. So no huge plans missed. You ready to see my home?”

  She looked at him then looked out the window at the looming castle before her. She took a deep breath.

  “No time like the present.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Luca had left the car parked in front of the palace, knowing Larkin would want to enter through the main entryway to get the full e
ffect.

  He reached for her hand and took her to the base of the steps, where two guards stood in bright red uniformed jackets and black pants with spit-polished boots, bayonetted rifles at the ready, and those huge foot-and-a-half-tall bearskin hats that obscured their vision.

  “So the thing is, those hats cover their eyes,” she said, pointing at the guards, assuming they likely wouldn’t even know she was rudely pointing. “So how is it they’re considered good guards? They can’t see anything?”

  Luca laughed. “You’ve got a point there. Let’s hope if it came down to it they’d shove them back a bit so they could see well.”

  He greeted both of the men, quickly introduced Larkin, and they mounted a grand marble staircase. At the top, another guard held open a massive gilded door, and they entered into a rather imposing foyer. It was flanked on either side by two curving, red-carpeted staircases and filled with artwork and paintings and sculptures and everything you’d expect to find in a castle.

  “Come on, let’s go up to the family quarters,” Luca said, pulling her along up the grand staircase. “This is the Corridor of Elders, where my family lives,” he said, pointing to a hallway they walked down that was again filled floor to ceiling with historic artwork. “I have someone I’d like for you to meet.”

  He pressed a button in a panel on a wall that seemed like every other bit of wall, but instead, it slid away, a secret door, revealing an entirely different room.

  Larkin just stood, her mouth agape, eyes wide open. “I thought they only had this kind of thing in spy movies and episodes of Scooby Doo,” she said. “Is it okay if I write about it?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, sure. If there’s anything off-limits, I’ll be sure to tell you.”

  “Hello,” Luca said loudly. “Anyone home?”

  He kept pulling her along a narrow hallway until they came to a dimly lit room with two women lying on the floor, masks over their eyes, the aroma of bergamot-scented candles wafting in the air. Another woman sat cross-legged nearby and held her finger to her lips to indicate for them to be quiet. She held another finger up, apparently saying they’d be done in a minute.

  They waited quietly, listening to the calming sounds of Native American flutes and recorded birdsong.

  “That’s Gabriella,” Luca whispered to Larkin. “She’s my cousin, from Italy. She’s opened a yoga studio and comes to the palace to practice with my mom and my sister sometimes.”

  Larkin’s eyes widened. “You mean that’s your mother? The queen? Namaste’ing over there?”

  He grinned. “One and the same.” Noticing they’d finally finished, he went over to make introductions. “Mum, Isabella, Gabriella, this is my friend, Larkin. We just got in but I wanted to stop by quickly so that you could meet her.”

  ~*~

  It sure was less intimidating to meet bits of the royal family in yoga pants than in designer gowns and tiaras. Shame, though, that she had no clue how she was supposed to greet them. What does a commoner—an American, at that—do with royalty? Larkin wasn’t even sure what to call them!

  “Ma’am,” Larkin said, dipping her head slightly, hoping that was deferential enough to cover all the bases. “So lovely to meet you.”

  “Please, dear, call me Ariana,” she said, clasping Larkin’s hands in hers. “I know my son has been anxious to get you here to Monaforte, so I hope you have a lovely time of it here, and please, make yourself at home.”

  It was Bella’s turn next. “So, you’re the one who keeps my brother in line, then?” she said, reaching to hug her. “I’ve heard all about you.”

  Larkin wondered exactly what he’d told her.

  “Uh, I guess so,” she said with a hint of hesitancy in her voice. “Sort of depends on who you ask.”

  Isabella laughed while Luca squirmed. “Thanks, Bel, for that,” he said. “Always appreciate your discreet meddling.” She gave him an exaggerated wink.

  “So, you two lovebirds off to dinner, then?” his mother said.

  Lovebirds? Larkin felt her face get hot, no doubt the shade of a ripe summertime tomato.

  “Mum, enough with the ribbing,” Luca said. “You know this is business for Larkin. She’s here to interview me for the International Chronicle.”

  His mother waved. “Oh, I know that, dear. Just wanted to tease you.” She squeezed his cheek.

  “Everyone loves a joker,” he said, patting her on the back. “I think we’ll be off now.”

  “Oh, and Luca,” Isabella said as they walked down the hall, “I’ve taken care of everything you asked for.”

  He gave her a slight nod, and they were gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “So, are you okay if we eat in tonight?” he said as they walked down a hallway, turned left, and proceeded down another dimly lit hallway till they stopped at an unmarked door.

  She shrugged. “Sure.”

  Luca punched in a code and the door opened. “And this... is my humble abode.”

  He switched a number of lights on as he escorted her into the living room, with gleaming heart pine hardwood floors, and a very chic neutral-colored stone-paneled wall. The two corner walls were made entirely of glass, revealing a view of the entire city.

  “Have a seat,” he said, motioning to a large, overstuffed dove-gray leather sectional sofa. “I took the liberty of asking the kitchen to deliver dinner, which should be here any minute. In the meantime, can I interest you in some champagne?”

  “My second Kryptonite,” she said. “What the hell.”

  “Oh yeah?” he said. “What’s your first Kryptonite?”

  “You were doing it earlier when I fell asleep,” she said. “Scratch my head just right and I’m at your mercy.”

  He arched his brow. “That’s good to know. I’ll take note of that.”

  “Except now, I’d be suspect of you doing that so it won’t work. Besides, this is a working weekend.”

  He nodded. “Ah, yes, working weekend. How could I ever forget?”

  There was a knock at the door and suddenly two waiters, or servants, or whatever they were, wheeled in a cart with two lobsters, several side dishes, and a tray of dessert.

  “Seriously? Lobster?” Larkin said. “My third Kryptonite. You must be going for the hat trick.”

  “I aim to please,” he said, ushering her through a glass door along the windowed wall to a terrace overlooking the city. He motioned for her to have a seat in the cushioned chair at a glass tabletop. Evenly spaced cedar wall sconces cast a warm glow along the length of the terrace, and a nearby outdoor fireplace easily staved off the autumn chill in the air.

  “So,” Luca said, sitting down finally. “Here’s to interviews, strategically timed naps, and Kryptonite.” He tipped his glass to hers.

  “And to a lovely weekend Chez Easton,” Larkin said. “I’m most grateful for your hospitality.”

  “I’m thrilled you agreed to subject yourself to the vagaries of my family and our humble home.”

  Larkin laughed. “Humble? Not so much. But lovely, nonetheless,” she said. “Remind me, though, not to have you to my sad little apartment anytime soon.”

  “It’s not the home that matters,” he said. “It’s who occupies it.”

  She smiled. “A lovely sentiment. I’ll drink to that.”

  He nodded to her plate of food. “Buon appetito.”

  ~*~

  Larkin was pleasantly full. And equally pleasantly buzzed with whatever premier cru rose champagne she’d been drinking a bit too much of. If she lived this sort of lifestyle, she’d be three sizes bigger in no time flat. Except she’d be taking private yoga lessons and would probably have a personal trainer and well, don’t even go there, Larkin.

  She was just going to have a perfectly pleasant weekend with this really quite handsome man and she would manage to keep her roving fingers far, far away from his crotch, even if they ended up nearby by accident. This would work out just fine.

  They retreated to the living room, where some
staff member had discreetly started a scrumptious-smelling cedar fire in the fireplace. Larkin wondered if unassuming staff just ushered away all the hassles of life so that your actions were one seamless movement. A friction-free way to life. Not bad. Though she supposed adversity could make the good times even better, right?

  Luca sat on the sofa and extended his hand out, motioning for Larkin to join him.

  “Would you like to watch a movie?” he said.

  She yawned. “Not sure if I can stay awake for it but I’ll give it my best.”

  “I queued up something I think you’ll enjoy,” he said, aiming the remote to one of the windowed walls, where a large screen descended from the ceiling and a minute later, Julie Andrews was high atop an alpine meadow belting out a song.

  “Oh, no,” Larkin said. “You can’t, really. It’s seriously, yet more Kryptonite for me.”

  “Wow,” he said. “Your super powers are being seriously compromised tonight. I don’t know how that could happen. Maybe it means you need to just yield to it. Release control. Let yourself experience the debilitating sensation of letting it all just happen to you.”

  They looked up at the screen and Captain Von Trapp was already blowing his whistle and Maria was blushing and crap, Larkin held her hands to her face, just like the bashful Maria. She was a goner. Big time.

  ~*~

  With each stolen glance, each smoldering touch, Maria and the Captain were falling more and more in love. And Luca was plunging more and more in lust with the woman seated next to him. More like gradually slumping next to him. At some point, when she’d reached to fill their champagne flutes, she’d leaned back against him, which made him indescribably happy. Her soft body pressed into his, and he took advantage of it, draping his arm over her shoulder, his hand stroking along her arm. She’d removed her shoes and blazer, so there wasn’t much between them but her white T and jeans. Progress. He reminded himself, gentling the scared filly meant discreet contact meted out in tiny, incremental gestures, so she’d barely notice them happening.