Sicilian Nights Omnibus

by Penny Jordan

  As soon as he released her Leonora started to descend the steps, panicked by the shock of recognition that Alessandro could hurt her. How had that happened? How on earth had she managed to become emotionally involved in any kind of way with a man she had known less than twenty-four hours? But it wasn’t the quantity of time she had spent with him so much as its quality. Their intimacy, both cerebral and sensual, had brought her closer to him than she had ever been with any other man. From the moment he had stopped her as she left the plane he had occupied every single one of her thoughts, full-time.

  Gripped by her unwanted discovery Leonora forgot about her high heels and gave a startled gasp as she caught one of them on the steps and started to fall forward.

  Strong arms caught her and held her safe—but they were not Alessandro’s arms. Her body knew that immediately, and thus she was able to relax into them without fearing what it might betray.

  Falcon Leopardi was as tall as Alessandro, and as broad, but where Alessandro possessed a fierce, sensual intensity that strobed danger into her senses, Falcon had an unmistakable air of right and of acceptance of that right, in a way that reminded her of her own elder brother. He was plainly at ease with himself and his position. His magnetic dark-eyed gaze sweeping her from head to foot—not merely in a man’s assessment of her but also that of an elder brother checking her out to see if she was good enough for Alessandro.

  She felt safe with him, Leonora recognised. But she would only be safe as long as he believed that his brother was her first priority.

  ‘I’m sorry. So silly of me. I forgot that I was wearing high heels,’ she apologised as she eased back. He immediately released her.

  ‘Well, well—and what have I done to deserve the reception, Falcon?’

  Alessandro’s voice, sarcastic and cynical, came from immediately behind her, sending her heart jerking against her ribs as though he was holding it on a string.

  ‘Is there any reason why I should not be the first to welcome you home? And, of course, Miss Thaxton with you.’ Falcon’s smile for Leonora was brief but warm as he turned to her and said, ‘You must have impressed Alessandro if he allowed you to co-pilot the plane.’

  ‘Leonora doesn’t need to impress me with her flying skills. It is her absolute loyalty to me for which I value her,’ Alessandro told his brother, slipping his arm round Leonora’s waist and drawing her close to him. He looked down at her and reached with his free hand to brush a stray hair off her face, then rubbed his thumb across her lower lip, caressing the curve of her waist as he did so, as though he was totally unable to stop himself from touching her.

  He was giving such a good performance of a man besotted with her that even Leonora herself was impressed. But what was the purpose of the deliberate challenge he had thrown down to his brother with his comment about her loyalty? It hinted at a rivalry between them that at some point had gone deep and still festered—at least on Alessandro’s part. Was that the reason for his demand that she show him absolute loyalty and devotion as ‘his woman’ over the course of the weekend?

  Somehow, without even having to make a deliberate decision to do so, she was automatically trying to imagine how she would have reacted had she had an older sister and there had been a contest between them over a boy. The rush of emotions that gripped her told their own story—anger, fierce anger, against both the boy and her sister. But the real scalding heat of that anger would have been directed at her sibling, along with a ferocious need not just to show her that she could find another boy who would not be tempted by her but find one who would be far, far better than the one she had lost.

  Was that why Alessandro had blackmailed her into being here?

  ‘I hope my brother has managed to be practical enough to explain what this weekend is about, Leonora, and what is going to take place?’

  Falcon’s calm voice broke into her inner speculations and forced her to put them to one side.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she was able to assure him truthfully. ‘Alessandro has been through everything with me.’ Well, that much was true...

  ‘It was kind of you to come down and welcome us, Falcon, but rather a waste of time. I prefer to drive us back to the castello myself, since I’ll need my car whilst I’m here. I’ve promised Leonora that I’ll make time to show her something of the island.’

  That was news to her, but Leonora managed not to betray her surprise.

  ‘I’ve already arranged for your car to be driven home for you,’ Falcon assured Alessandro smoothly.

  An elder, superior sibling, reminding a younger and inferior one that he was ahead of him in every way and always would be? Or was she reading too much into their exchange? It wasn’t like her to allow herself to become so involved in the dynamics of another person’s family relationships—she was normally far too busy being defensive about her own—but somewhere deep inside her a tiny seed of fellow feeling for Alessandro had taken root, and much as she wanted to be able to do so she couldn’t ignore it.

  ‘The shared drive back together will enable me to get to know Leonora a little better,’ Falcon was saying smoothly, turning to Leonora herself as he added, ‘Your brother is one of Alessandro’s pilots, I believe, Leonora?’

  ‘My younger brother—yes,’ Leonora agreed, adding, ‘Like Alessandro, I’m a middle child. Something else we share—like our love of flying.’

  Now, why had she said that? As though she was making a point and taking a stance, declaring not just her loyalty to Alessandro but the fact that she felt they shared a special bond. She could see the frowning reception Alessandro was giving her statement, and wished she had not been so impulsive and spoken out so forcefully. It wasn’t as though Alessandro needed her to make a stand on his behalf. They weren’t a proper couple, after all—one for all and all for one, facing the world together utterly united. And now Falcon was looking at her very thoughtfully indeed, and Alessandro’s frown had grown deeper.

  It was Falcon who ushered her towards the chauffeur, who was waiting for them to get into the car. Although he had initially got out of the back seat, now Falcon got into the front passenger seat, leaving Alessandro to sit behind him whilst Leonora sat behind the chauffeur.

  ‘Alessandro will, I am sure, have informed you that since he is the only one of the family attending the weekend’s events to have a partner, you will be looked upon by many of our guests as their hostess.’

  Leonora gave Alessandro a frantic look. He had certainly not told her that.

  Ignoring the look she was giving him, but reaching for her hand and holding it in what looked like a lover’s clasp but which was in effect, Leonora suspected, a warning grip, he told his brother, ‘Leonora is more than capable of playing her part, Falcon.’

  Leonora suspected that both his words and his grip on her hand were intended as a reminder to her of the control he had over her and the obedience he expected from her.

  * * *

  The drive to the castello didn’t take very long—barely long enough for Leonora to take in the olive groves through which they were being driven, which gave way to a more barren landscape as the road climbed upwards, with the sea to one side of them and the mountains to the other.

  Finally, after the road curved round one of the mountains, she could see the castello up ahead of them—not so much clinging to the sheer rocks on which it was built as gripping them in its talons like a bird of prey. Despite the sunlight warming the steep escarpments and the crenellated walls, Leonora shivered slightly. The sight of the castello filled her with the sense that it was designed to intimidate and overwhelm, to entrap and imprison. It was, she decided, a true fortress—hard, unyielding and hostile. Like Alessandro himself.

  When they drove through a stone archway into a large flagged courtyard that contained an ornate fountain, Leonora saw not the medieval castle building she had been expecting but the elegant façade
of a magnificent eighteenth-century palace. She could not stop herself from gasping in surprise.

  It wasn’t Alessandro who responded to her astonishment but Falcon, turning round in his seat to smile at her and tell her, ‘One of our ancestors had the good sense to replace the original buildings. All that is actually left of the original castello are the outer walls and a couple of towers. Which reminds me, Sandro, I’ve told Maria to put you both in the West Tower Suite, to give you a bit of privacy. As you can imagine, the house is going to be packed to the rafters with guests, so I thought you’d be more comfortable there than in your old room.’

  What did he mean, he’d put ‘them’ in the West Tower Suite? Leonora wondered in an apprehensive silence. She looked at Alessandro, but he wasn’t looking back in her direction, and now wasn’t the time to start asking Alessandro exactly what their sleeping arrangements were going to be, Leonora acknowledged.

  As they climbed the steep marble steps leading to impressive double doors, Leonora realised that she was going to struggle to climb them elegantly in her unfamiliar high heels. Unexpectedly, as Alessandro hadn’t seemed to notice the anxious look she had given him in the car, he did seem to notice she was having trouble with the steps, because without saying anything he placed his hand beneath her elbow to steady and support her.

  For a second the tomboy in her wanted to insist she could manage, but tomboys didn’t wear stilettos, and the truth was that she was glad of his help. The last thing she wanted to do was make a fool of herself by falling flat on her face. But climbing the steps so close together brought her thigh into contact with his, sending a frisson of something that quite definitely did not belong to her tomboy days sizzling through her body.

  ‘You’re the first to arrive,’ Falcon was saying. ‘Officially the cocktail party begins at seven, with dinner for the house guests at ten, but Father is planning to hold court at around six, although I want to keep that as low-key as possible, given his poor health.’

  ‘Is his heart as weak as we’ve all been told? Or is it just another of his ploys to make us all jump through hoops of his making?’

  When Leonora heard the bitterness in Alessandro’s voice she instinctively started to move closer to him, in a mute gesture of comfort and support—and then abruptly stopped. Why on earth would Alessandro want comfort or support from her? And, even more to the point, why should she want to offer them?

  To her relief he appeared not to have noticed her instinctive movement towards him, although his hand had slipped from her elbow along her back, and was now resting on her hip, which had brought her closer to him. But he had not so much as looked at her, his focus entirely on his brother.

  ‘His heart condition is real enough,’ Falcon was saying. ‘I would have preferred not to have risked worsening it with all this fuss, but he insisted, threatening that if I did not organise something then he would do so himself.’

  ‘And his word, of course, is law,’ Alessandro said cynically.

  ‘He is the head of our family and our name, and it is—as it has always been—our duty to respect the traditions and the responsibilities that go with being a Leopardi.’

  ‘You may respect him if you wish to do so, Falcon, but I never shall.’

  ‘I did not say that I respected him. What I said was that it is our duty to respect our responsibilities to our name. Not for our own sake, and certainly not for the sake of our father, but for the sake of our people. It is their traditions that we are honouring this weekend, not our father’s.’

  They had reached the top of the steps now. Both men were standing still, facing one another, and Alessandro still had his arm around her waist, securing her to him. It was just because of the role she was forced to play that she was not objecting to that imprisonment, Leonora assured herself.

  ‘You sound as feudal as he is, Falcon, and you know my views on that,’ Alessandro told his brother.

  ‘Yes. You say you are a modern man, who does not bow his head to anyone or expect them to bow to him. That is all very well for you, Alessandro, but many of our people do not think as you do. And if we ignore and insult our heritage then in effect we ignore and insult them as well.’

  ‘It is thanks to our father that they have been kept in the Dark Ages and treated like serfs—exactly as he tried to treat us when we were young. I can never and will never accept that. You know that. In my opinion our true duty and responsibility is to free our people from the feudal yoke our father has no right to continue to impose on them.’

  ‘I agree. But for some of them—the older ones—that freedom is feared because it means change.’

  ‘I am glad I am not in your shoes, Falcon, and that as our father’s heir the responsibility for righting his wrongs is yours and not mine.’

  ‘A fitting punishment for being born first, Sandro? We are all born to our given roles in life and we have no power over that. What we do have power over is how we choose to deal with that role. You have chosen to show the world that you do not and will not accept any limitations imposed on you by others in any way. But you are still a Leopardi. We still share the same blood—’

  ‘Our father’s blood,’ Alessandro interrupted him bitterly.

  ‘The blood of many generations of our name.’ Falcon overrode him. ‘Your example will show our people that they need not accept any limitations, whilst the duty I have shown our father will, I hope, enable the younger ones to make the transition to a more modern way of life without riding roughshod over the older generation. It is my wish that we use this weekend to set an example of all that is good and just and honourable about being a Leopardi.’

  Falcon Leopardi spoke less assertively than Alessandro, but there was no mistaking the determination of his purpose, Leonora recognised. He was very much the eldest sibling, very much making it plain that his will would prevail, and yet at the same time he was also showing true respect and brotherly love for Alessandro. But would that ever be enough for a man like Alessandro, who was so obviously driven by a need to come first? Would he ever be content with what he had achieved? Or would he always feel that it was not enough because he had not been born first?

  The huge double doors had been opened whilst the brothers had been talking, and now they were walking through them together. Alessandro was keeping her close to his side.

  The hallway beyond the doors had obviously been designed to impress and awe, with its richly painted and frescoed ceiling, its ornate gilded rococo decor and the huge glittering chandelier that dominated the curving stairway. The whole area breathed power and wealth.

  Another set of double doors stood open, giving visual access to not just the room beyond them but to an entire series of rooms, their doors also flung open, with sunlight illuminating intricately inlaid wooden floors. This wasn’t a home, Leonora decided, it was a statement of intent—a kingdom in its own right.

  Falcon looked at his watch.

  ‘It’s four o’clock now. I dare say you’ll want to take advantage of the chance to relax and settle in while you can, so I’ll leave you to take Leonora up to your suite, Sandro, and then we can meet in the library at five-thirty, just in case there are any last-minute changes to any of the arrangements that we need to discuss.’

  ‘This way.’ Alessandro turned her round so that they were facing the main doors, guiding her through them and across the courtyard to a narrow door in the wall. ‘It’s quicker than going through the main house,’ he explained, as Leonora looked uncertainly at the spiral of stone steps leading upwards in the half-light coming in through the narrow slits in the bare stone walls.

  On impulse she removed her shoes, answering the look Alessandro gave her with a firm, ‘I’d rather have dirty feet than a broken ankle.’

  In fact the stone steps were immaculately clean and dust-free, although climbing them ahead of Alessandro, as they were only wide enough for one person,
was causing her heart to pound erratically. Not because she was so very aware of him behind her, of course. No, it was because there were so many of them, winding upwards in the narrow tower, and the climb was dizzying her and leaving her short of breath.

  At last the top was reached—an empty round space with whitewashed walls and a wooden floor, dark with age. One door was set into the curved wall, and Alessandro opened it for her.

  Leonora wasn’t sure what she had expected. The plain bareness of the tower and its stone steps were such a contrast to the almost overpowering extravagance of the main entrance and the hallway of the castello. The hallway that lay beyond this door, though, was surprisingly modern, reminding her of the skilled renovation of Alessandro’s apartment. A niche in one of the walls held a piece of abstract sculpture, and the chandelier looked similarly modern. The floorboards pale and smooth, simple linen curtains were at the window, and the window seat was covered in a matt black fabric with a fine grey and white stripe, creating a classically understated look.

  A pair of carved double doors opened into a large room in much the same style as the hallway, but Leonora wasn’t paying any attention to its décor. Instead she was staring with horror at the enormous bed dominating the room.

  ‘This isn’t the only bedroom, is it?’ she asked Alessandro.

  ‘If you mean is this the only bedroom in the castello, then it is not. If you mean is it the only bedroom here in this suite—then, yes, it is,’ he answered her promptly.

  Leonora badly wanted to sit down. ‘But we can’t share a bedroom,’ she protested.

  The look he gave her was icy with disdain and sharp with impatience. ‘We don’t have any other option.’

  ‘But there’s only one bed.’

  ‘Which is at least six feet wide. And I assure you that even if it were not, I do not have any intention of turning our public relationship as supposed lovers into a private reality. I thought I had already made that much clear to you? Unless, of course, what you fear is that you yourself may be so overcome with lust for me that you—’