The Colorado Countess

by Stephanie Howard

  She gazed into the blue eyes. And she had discovered that she loved him. That had been the most terrifying, most wonderful thing of all. And she longed to share it with him. But not yet. Not yet.

  . He kept telling her she was special and that he was crazy about her. Were these, she wondered, hoping, euphemisms for love? Her own feelings must remain locked away inside her until she knew for sure.

  ‘So, now that you’re awake, I suggest we have breakfast.’ He continued to kiss her fingers as he spoke. ‘We can have it here, if you like. I can phone down and order something.’

  ‘That sounds nice.’

  ‘So, what do you fancy?’

  As he kissed her again, Carrie couldn’t resist it. ‘I don’t know what I fancy.’ She threw him a teasing look. ‘Apart from you, of course, but maybe you’re not on the menu.’

  Then she giggled as, in response, he caught her in his arms and planted a big warm kiss on her lips. ‘I’m always on the menu. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. And whenever you feel like a snack you just have to say the word.’

  Carrie snuggled against him. ‘You may be sorry you said that.’ She let her hands travel lovingly over his hard body, caressing his chest, his shoulders, his back, feeling the muscles ripple sensuously beneath her fingers. ‘I may turn out to have quite an appetite.’

  ‘Is that a challenge, young lady?’ Leone flipped her over, so that she was lying on her back and he was leaning over her. He held her there. ‘It sounded rather like one to me.’

  ‘So, what are you going to do about it?’ Carrie laughed and kissed him. She felt quite wanton, and so happy that she could be so free with him. Then a thought suddenly struck her. As he kissed her shoulder she confided, ‘You know, the first time I met you—well, it was the second time, actually, after I realised who you were—I was so totally confused that I wondered if I ought to curtsy to you. And now,’ she added, playfully biting his ear, ‘here I am lying naked in bed with you. . . Somehow I can’t imagine curtsying to you any more!’

  Leone teased her right back. ‘That second time we met the last thing on my mind was whether you might curtsy to me or not. Frankly, I couldn’t get over the length of your legs. I’d never seen such a fabulous pair in my life.’

  As he said it he reached down and caressed her legs from shin to thigh-top, causing Carrie’s insides to curl with helpless longing.

  ‘And come to think of it,’ he growled, bending to kiss her again, ‘I wouldn’t mind getting reacquainted with these legs.’

  They eventually got round to ordering breakfast just before ten, after another unhurried bout of glorious lovemaking. And Leone was aware of Silvestro’s diplomatically disguised smiles as he wheeled in the trolley with their coffee and croissants.

  Carrie had insisted on hiding in the bathroom, in spite of Leone’s assurances that that really wasn’t necessary—Silvestro, like all his staff, was as discreet as the three wise monkeys—and, anyway, it was obvious that a woman had stayed the night and was still lurking around in a state of undress. There was a pile of underwear on one of the chairs, a discarded shoe lay beside the wardrobe and the unmistakable mingled scents of physical love filled the room.

  And though, of course, Silvestro didn’t say a word Leone knew he was surprised, for no woman had ever spent the night in his master’s apartments before.

  After breakfast, Leone gave Carrie a lift back to her flat.

  ‘I really have to put in a few hours at the workshop,’ he told her. ‘But, if you’re not doing anything else, why don’t you come down about six? I can show you round and then we can go and have dinner.’

  Carrie jumped at the chance, and it fitted in with her own schedule, which thankfully wasn’t too heavy today. She wasn’t sure if she could have coped with her usual demanding workday, for she was feeling decidedly unworkmanlike and dreamy! So, dead on six, she arrived at the impressive little workshop and spent a fascinating hour there, just watching what went on.

  It was fascinating for lots of reasons. The cars were intriguing, for a start, and the whole place fairly buzzed with enthusiasm and expertise. Though she knew little about how cars worked—and even less about these Formula One jobs!—Carrie could appreciate the dedication and the sheer love of the men who worked on them. She felt privileged just to be around them.

  But the most fascinating thing of all was just watching Leone, for at last she was beginning to understand a lot of things about him. The mystery of the true Leone was starting to unravel.

  Amongst these men with whom he worked he was their peer and their equal. Not a count, not the brother of the ruler of the country, but a skilled engineer who was obviously respected and looked up to, and not for who he was but for the work he did.

  He really belongs here, she thought as she watched him, full of admiration. And suddenly she felt even closer to him than ever. Here, in these surroundings, he was a working professional, just like her. How could she ever have thought of him as some kind of upper-class hooligan, as someone she could never be close to, almost from another universe?

  Perhaps I only made myself believe that because I was afraid of my attraction to him and even more afraid of what it might turn into, she reflected. Probably what I was really doing was trying to protect myself.

  Not that her strategy had worked, of course. She’d fallen in love with him anyway. In the event, there’d been no fighting it. It had been written in the stars.

  ‘Are you ready? Shall we go?’

  Suddenly he was beside her, kissing her, slipping an arm around her waist.

  ‘Or would you rather stay on a while,’ he teased, ‘and learn some more about the cars?’

  ‘It’s you I’ve really been learning about over the past hour, not the cars.’ As he locked up—for they were the last to leave the workshop—and they headed across the parking lot to where the little black sports car was waiting she confided, ‘I think I finally know who Leone di Montecrespi is.’

  He pulled the passenger door open for her. ‘That sounds ominous. And here was me thinking I was making rather a good job of keeping you in the dark.’

  Carrie pulled a face at him. He was teasing her again. ‘You don’t have to worry,’ she told him. ‘I rather like what I’ve found out.’

  She expected him to smile or make some joke in response. But he did neither. Instead, his expression grew serious. Carrie found herself freezing, half in and half out of the car.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked. His strange look had made her anxious.

  ‘Carrie, I—’

  Still frowning, he laid a hand on her arm, and it was clear that there was a conflict going on inside him. Carrie felt a trickle of fear like a cold finger on her spine.

  His eyes scanned her face, making her even more anxious. He said, ‘There’s something I ought to tell you.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Carrie swallowed. She felt suddenly cold and she was aware of a fearful pulse in her throat. Whatever was coming, she had the feeling she wasn’t going to like it. Inwardly, she braced herself.

  He was still watching her with that intent look, and the suspense was killing her. ‘Carrie. . .’ he said again. And as he paused she was dying. What on earth was he gearing up to say?

  But then, abruptly, his expression altered. He smiled and shook his head and touched her cheek softly with his fingers. ‘I’m crazy,’ he told her. ‘It’s just that you bowl me over. There are a thousand things I feel I want to say to you, but what it all boils down to is I think you’re terrific.’

  Carrie almost fainted with relief. ‘You’re pretty terrific too,’ she told him.

  Then she was laughing as he swept her into his arms and kissed her. ‘Come on, you wonderful girl. Let me take you out to dinner.’

  The days and weeks that followed were the happiest Carrie had ever known.

  If this is love, she decided, I definitely like it. For every second of every minute of every hour of every day was suddenly filed with the glow of sheer magic. It was as though
the stars had dropped down from heaven and kissed her.

  The two of them spent every possible moment together, eating, making love, laughing, talking—for they had endless things to say to one another.

  Carrie told him all about her childhood in Colorado, about her wonderful parents and the grocery store they ran, and about her dear sister, Lauren, who was a teacher in Denver. And Leone, in turn, told her about his family and took her on the tour of the palace he’d once promised her, so she could admire the wonderful redecoration that his beloved mother had done. And bit by bit they got to know all about each other’s life.

  They laughed a lot, too. It was easy to laugh with Leone. In the past, at times, she had wondered if he was laughing at her, but now she realised she had been wrong about that. That wasn’t his way. It was simply that he laughed easily. And that was one of the many, many things she loved about him.

  But the nicest thing of all was simply being together, and often they would just lie with their arms round one another, not needing to say a word, just gazing at one another, joined by the precious bond that had grown between them.

  And it was this feeling of being bound to him that Carrie found most intoxicating. He was a part of her now wherever she was, whatever she was doing, at whatever hour of the day or night. And she sensed that it was exactly the same for him too.

  The word ‘love’ had never been spoken between them. Leone had told her he was mad about her, that she was the most wonderful girl alive, but he had never actually said those three important little words. And though at times, it must be said, Carrie longed to hear them—and to tell him in return that she loved him too—most of the time she didn’t let it bother her. Love was just a word, she told herself. Not terribly important. What mattered was what they felt for each other in their hearts. And she knew without a doubt, for he proved it to her every day, that there was something very special in Leone’s heart for her.

  But then, too soon, the first crack in her happiness appeared.

  It was another photograph on the front page of the morning paper that did it. Not that he had been snapped in the company of some half-naked girl this time. Anything but. The others with him in the photograph couldn’t have been more soberly dressed. For it was a photograph that had been taken before the official dinner the previous evening in honour of some members of the British royal family who were currently visiting San Rinaldo.

  And there was Leone, looking as Carrie had never seen him before, dressed in some braided and sashed formal uniform, standing with the Duke and Duchess, along with Lady Caterina and their distinguished royal guests. Carrie looked at the photograph and felt an icy coldness grip her heart. He didn’t look like her Leone. He looked like someone she didn’t know.

  For a long time she stared at it, wishing she had never seen it. She had known about the dinner, of course. Leone had told her he’d be attending. She’d even picked up the newspaper expecting to see a photograph. But what she hadn’t been expecting was its shocking effect on her. Suddenly, she was filled with a numbing, icy dread.

  In an instant she was transported back to that first night she’d spent with him, when she’d suddenly awakened with the same sort of feeling—the sick, sobering certainty that sooner or later she would lose him. That this man who meant the world to her was destined not to be hers.

  ‘Count Leone’. That was what was written in the caption beneath the picture. ‘Brother of the Duke and heir to the throne of San Rinaldo’. And she knew all that, of course. Though somehow she had forgotten. She had forgotten the vast social gulf that divided them. She had fooled herself into believing that they were just two people in love—for that was how she thought of them, even though the words had never been spoken. But this photograph was spelling out to her that it could never be that simple.

  The photograph had become a blur, but its message was still screaming at her. There could never be any future for them. It was out of the question. To kid herself otherwise was to live in never-never land. Their lives, their worlds, were too hopelessly far apart.

  She closed her eyes in desolation. What a blinkered fool she’d been. She’d been kidding herself out of fear of facing the cruel truth.

  And she still could not face it. She pushed these fears from her and, over the days that followed, determinedly forced herself to pretend that there was really nothing to be afraid of. But, alas, the rot had started and, after this initial jolt to her happiness, others began to follow in rapid succession.

  They were having dinner one evening at one of their favourite restaurants when suddenly Leone grabbed her by the arm.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he told her, snatching her from her seat and hustling her through the door that led to the kitchen. ‘We’ve been followed. That chap over there’s a press photographer.’

  He was right, and they only just managed to make their getaway—through the kitchen and out of the door at the back, followed by a quick sprint to where Leone’s car was parked. And, though it felt quite exciting at the time, when Carrie thought about it later she realised that it had been rather unpleasant and such incidents could easily become a regular feature of their lives.

  So far they’d been spared that simply because Leone was so careful. When they went out they only went to places where he was pretty sure they wouldn’t be hassled, and he was always looking over his shoulder just in case they’d been followed.

  ‘I don’t mind being photographed when I’m on some official job,’ he had told her once. ‘I’m even prepared to put up with it when I’m on my own to some extent. I’ve got used to that by now and, like I told you once before, I tend to regard it as just part of the package.’

  Then he had frowned at her and his tone was protective as he continued, ‘But I’m damned if I’ll stand for it when I’m with you. When I’m with you I want to be strictly private.’

  Carrie had always been grateful for that. She had no desire whatsoever to live the sort of goldfish-in-a-bowl existence that tended to be thrust on the royal family. But after that incident at the restaurant, then another similar one a few days later, when a newsman suddenly jumped out at them while they were out walking on the beach, so that they had to do another rapid sprint to the car, she was beginning to seriously wonder if she would be allowed to escape for much longer.

  Already there had been one or two mentions in a couple of newspapers of ‘Count Leone’s mysterious new companion’, though no one as yet had identified who she was. And she dreaded that happening. Life, she feared, would become intolerable. She would never be able to regard it as ‘just part of the package’.

  Her spirits spiralled downwards. The relationship was doomed. She could never live that sort of life and Leone could never live any other. They were all wrong for one another. Her heart filled with misery. It was only a matter of time before the whole thing fell apart.

  And as these feelings began to grow and establish themselves in her mind another dark feeling inevitably followed.

  Leone must realise as well as she did that nothing could ever come of their romance. He’d probably realised it right from the start. More than likely that was why he’d never told her he loved her and why he never spoke about the future. He knew there could never be any future for them.

  Her heart cracked as she thought these things. They were too painful to endure.

  She said nothing to Leone. She was too afraid of tempting fate. But then, one evening, he seemed to confirm her worst fears.

  They were having dinner at a favourite restaurant and both of them were in good spirits. They’d been chatting away as usual, Leone recounting his day at the workshop while Carrie filled him in on what she’d been up to.

  Then suddenly she said, ‘You know, I’m making incredible progress. I’ve finished all the work on the Montecrespi dinner service and there isn’t even much left to do at the factory.’ She laughed. ‘I can hardly believe I’ve been so busy!’

  ‘You’re a hard-working girl.’ There was admiration i
n his eyes. But then he frowned. ‘So, how long do you reckon before you’re finished?’

  Carrie felt a tightening inside her. She tried not to think of that. Of leaving San Rinaldo and going back to New York. Of leaving Leone. The very thought destroyed her.

  She said, glancing at her plate, afraid to look at him, ‘I don’t know. Two, maybe three weeks.’

  ‘And then what?’

  And then what? What exactly was he asking her? She was aware of a sudden nervous pulse in her throat. Still not looking at him, she answered, ‘After the book’s finished? Well, there are one or two other things in the pipeline. My publisher seems quite keen on a book about—’

  But that was as far as she got. He reached and took her hand. ‘What I’m really asking, Carrie, is are you going to stay on in San Rinaldo? I want you to,’ he added quickly. ‘I don’t want you to go back to the States.’

  Carrie looked up at him then, her heart weak with love for him. She had longed to hear him say that he wanted her to stay on. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more than that. For suddenly, more desperately than she’d ever felt it before, she was filled with the need to hear him say that he loved her. She held her breath and could not speak.

  He was still holding her hand. ‘There’s no reason, after all, why you can’t make San Rinaldo your base. You can work from here just as easily as you can work from New York.’ He paused. ‘What do you say?’ Then suddenly he smiled. ‘Actually, I don’t care what you say. I won’t let you go.’

  Carrie’s stomach was churning. She tried to smile back at him. But, deep inside, her heart was aching. It’s not my work I’m worried about, it’s us! she felt like shrieking. For if she stayed, what future did he envisage for the two of them? The question was choking her, but she did not dare ask it.