Loving Venus (Sally-Ann Jones Sexy Romance)

by Sally-Ann Jones

  When Alessandro returned the next morning, he stopped in his tracks outside the open door of Annabella’s ward.

  Umberto Esposito was sitting on her bed, leaning over her where she lay. One hand was stroking the red curls off her forehead, the other holding one of hers. A big bunch of expensive purple orchids stood in a vase on the bedside cabinet, beside the yellow roses, which had already begun to drop their velvety petals.

  They were murmuring to each other and little bursts of soft, intimate laughter occasionally escaped from them. He saw the doctor raise her hand to his lips and kiss it lingeringly. For some reason, he heard Sassy’s name being mentioned, too.

  He coughed in the doorway, impatient to drive her back to Casa dei Fiori and be on his own way to his new life in Florence. Eduardo would be in hospital for several more days – time for Alessandro to get himself established and come to collect him in a more equable state of mind.

  At the noise, the doctor turned around and Annabella lifted her head from the pillow.

  “I’ve come to take you home to Tonia’s loving ministrations,” Alessandro announced. “Unless, of course, you have other plans.”

  “Of course I don’t,” she answered. “But I’d like to see Eduardo before we go.”

  “I’ll take you,” he replied, adding, “Perhaps you should dress first.”

  “Do you need some help?” Umberto asked her, standing up.

  “I think I’ll be okay, thanks,” she told him.

  “I’ll go back to my patients, then,” Umberto said. “By the way, Alessandro, the professor was here earlier and said he was very happy with both Annabella’s progress and your brother’s. Apparently, it was a perfect match. In other words, Annabella is more of a de Rocco than a Smith, in case you were wondering.” As he said these words, he gave Alessandro a rather stern look, a look Alessandro chose to ignore.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Alessandro barely spoke during the drive back to the estate. And, when he had helped her out of the Bentley and into the warm kitchen where Tonia had a rocking chair beside the stove waiting for her and Sassy had made lamingtons to remind her of Australia , he drove the car to the garage and returned to the kitchen.

  “I’ve come to say goodbye,” he announced.

  “Are you going down to the cottage, caro?” Tonia inquired.

  “Only to collect some of my things. The rest I’ll send for later,” he answered.

  To stunned silence he continued, “I’m going to live in Florence. A taxi will be here soon to take me to the station. I’ll probably see you again fairly soon, when I bring Eduardo here. But I won’t live here permanently again.”

  Annabella gasped, a hand flying to her mouth.

  “But you can’t leave,” Tonia protested. “This is your home. This is where you were born.”

  “It is Annabella’s now. And soon she will be sharing it with…” He stopped, unable to utter the name.

  Annabella blushed. How did he know? She was going to pluck up the courage to tell him later. Perhaps Umberto or the professor had let it slip. He must be very angry. He definitely thought she’d set out deliberately to seduce him.

  Tonia and Sassy didn’t have the words to protest and Annabella was struggling to fight back tears. None of them made a move to prevent him leaving.

  “You must telephone the family whose son you saved, Bella,” Tonia said to Annabella several days later. “I know you’re missing him. We all are. But Eduardo will be here soon. And the family is expecting to hear from you. You must rouse yourself and do your duty.”

  “Must I do it today, Tonia?” she asked. She’d barely moved from her chair in the kitchen.

  “You must,” Tonia insisted. “I have the number here.”

  So Annabella dialed and waited for someone to answer the phone.

  “Pronto,” came a young woman’s voice down the line. “Who’s speaking, please?”

  “My name is Annabella Smith,” she began.

  “Ah!” There was a delighted cry. “Miss Smith. I’m so glad we have found you. My husband and I and our beloved son and our family want to thank you so, so much for what you did for us all. You have no idea how precious our boy is to all of us. You see, we tried to have a baby for nearly ten years. We tried everything imaginable. And we were nearly forty, both of us, when God took pity on us and gave him to us. And then, to have almost lost him again through sheer carelessness…” The voice cracked.

  “You weren’t careless,” Annabella said consolingly. “Everybody was watching the Palio. There’s nothing more exciting. It’s easy to take your eyes away from a little boy just for a second.”

  “It was unforgivable of us,” the woman said vehemently. “But God gave us another chance, through you. You risked your own life for our baby. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”

  “You needn’t thank me. I was glad to help. I would have hated to have seen him hurt.”

  “We want to give you something,” the young woman said. “If you will tell us where you live, we will send it to you. Please, let us do this one thing for you who have done so much for us.”

  “You mustn’t…” Annabella protested.

  “Please, Signorina. It would help us,” the voice pleaded.

  “Very well. I’ll tell you,” Annabella conceded. “Just send something small.”

  “Thankyou. God bless you,” the woman breathed, after Annabella told her the address.

  “God bless you too,” Annabella finished.

  Several long, miserable days later, days in which Annabella could do little but wonder how Alessandro could have disappeared like that, a shiny green Landrover drew up outside Casa dei Fiori, towing an expensive-looking horse-float.

  Annabella, Tonia and Sassy, who were eating lunch under the fig tree, ran over to the short, bald man who climbed out of the four-wheel drive. He was wearing a brown overall with the insignia of a trucking company on the breast pocket and was taking his job very seriously, they thought. “A delivery for Miss Annabella Smith, from the family of the little boy,” he announced proudly.

  As the women watched, incredulous, he opened the door of the float and backed out the most beautiful chestnut mare Annabella had ever seen.

  “Miss Smith?” the man asked, waiting for her to come forward. He handed the reins to her with a flourish of his right hand. “This horse is a present for you. I’ve been instructed to tell you that she’s used to being ridden, although she’s only young. She is a pure-bred Arab and her name is Siena because that’s where you performed your great act of kindness and courage. The family hope that you have many years of enjoyment from her.”

  “Wow!” was all Annabella could say.

  “Goodness!” said Sassy.

  “Heavens!” cried Tonia.

  At that moment, a taxi drew up behind the float and Alessandro threw open the back door then ran around to the other side of the car and helped Eduardo out before asking the driver to wait.

  “Eduardo!” everyone shouted.

  “A horse!” he said, stating the obvious. “Is she yours, Bella?”

  Annabella nodded. “But you can ride her, when you’re really better. Would you like to?”

  “Oh, yes please,” he enthused.

  Tonia caught him in a glad embrace.

  “She’s my gift from the family of the little boy,” Annabella explained to an amazed Alessandro. “You can ride her too, if you like.”

  “Florence beckons,” was all he said.

  “Aren’t you going to stay for a while?” she snapped. “If only for Tonia and Eduardo. You can’t just leave as if we were all strangers to you.”

  “Don’t shout!” cried Eduardo, tearing himself from Tonia and clutching his brother’s arm. “Stay for a day or so, Alessandro. You know you love Bella. Why are you so cold towards her?”

  “What makes you so sure of yourself, Eduardo?” Alessandro asked, the tell-tale nerve in his jaw twitching.

  By now both the drivers were standing side-by-side
, listening to the small drama that was unfolding before them.

  “Because I saw all your beautiful pictures of her. Lots and lots of them. Only someone who loves can paint that way, even I know that, and I’m supposed to be simple.”

  “What pictures?” Annabella asked, thinking Eduardo had made a mistake. Perhaps he was imagining things.

  “In the cottage,” Eduardo replied. “But I wanted one too because he had made so many. So I took one. My favourite one. I hid it under my bed. Only Rosa knows about it. Wait while I get it.”

  “What’s he talking about?” Tonia wondered aloud. “Sometimes I worry about that boy.”

  “He’s not a boy, Tonia,” Annabella reminded her sharply. “He’s a young man.”

  “I’m sorry, I only meant…” the housekeeper began.

  “It’s all right. We’re all a bit tense,” Annabella apologized.

  They all waited for Eduardo to reappear, even the mare watching the front door anxiously. Finally, he did, brandishing a canvas which was rolled and tied with a scarlet ribbon. With a theatrical bow, he untied the ribbon with one hand, holding the top of the canvas tightly with the other.

  There was another round of exclamations from the assortment of people. While Eduardo had been inside, Umberto had driven up in his red Fiat and was standing between Annabella and Sassy. And Claudia and her husband had arrived, too, to see what all the fuss was about.

  “It’s a knock-out!” declared the taxi man as they all looked with incredulity at the fabulous picture that had just been unfurled.

  “Worth millions, I’d say,” rejoined the other driver.

  “I’ll buy it!” Claudia’s husband declared loudly, as if he were at an auction. “How much do you want for it?”

  “It’s Bella!” laughed Tonia. “Bella! The night of the ball.”

  Indeed it was. Annabella wearing the beautiful sequined eau de nil dress, the moonlight on her hair, the stars in her eyes, a smile on her lips. She was whirling around on the cobblestones, the silk skirt billowing around her, her head back, her fiery curls spread out like a scarlet banner, her throat white.

  “See?” Eduardo said. “He does love her.”

  “Not necessarily,” Umberto reasoned. “If an artist loved all the women he painted, he’d have no time to work.” Then he winked at the young man and added, “But, I think, in this case, you’re right, Eduardo.”

  “Yes, he must love her,” the taxi driver put in. “Look at the way he’s made her eyes alive. Even a great artist couldn’t do that unless he was passionate about his subject. She seems to be seducing him with those eyes.”

  “She looks just like the Venus of Urbino. Titian’s great masterpiece,” Claudia commented. “Plump, as fashionable women were way back in the Renaissance.”

  “Did you really paint it, Al?” Annabella asked, seeing herself as if for the first time. Shehad no idea she was even pretty, let alone a beauty.

  “Of course he did,” Claudia spat. “He’s a romantic fool, at heart.”

  “I think he’s clever,” Eduardo said.

  “Here, here!” agreed Umberto. “Three cheers for Alessandro de Rocco, the artist.”

  When they had all cheered and clapped, Alessandro said, “Now I must go back to Florence.”

  “Just stay one night, please,” Eduardo begged. “One more night at Casa dei Fiori.”

  “Please,” agreed Tonia.

  “One night,” he conceded, knowing he was defeated. Turning to the taxi driver he said, “Please come for me tomorrow. At eleven o’clock in the morning. Sharp. I will be waiting.”

  “Si, signor,” the taxi man said, getting back into his cab.

  The other driver followed suit and the little crowd began to disperse, the Silvestros back to Villa Claudia, Eduardo, with the painting, to his room to see his beloved Rosa, Tonia to the kitchen to check the roasting leg of lamb she had placed in the oven with sprigs of fresh rosemary and cloves of garlic.

  “She’s a magnificent mare,” Sassy said, rubbing the glossy neck.

  “You deserve her, Bella,” Umberto said, smiling.

  Alessandro wished he hadn’t given in to his brother’s pleas and that he was in the taxi, bound for his lonely apartment. Anything was better than the doctor’s fawning over his second cousin.

  “Will you come riding with me, once more, Al?” Annabella asked, turning to him. “I’d love to try her out. But it’s no fun going alone.”

  “All right,” he agreed. “I’ll walk to the stables with you.” Alessandro was glad he’d worn jeans and a casual shirt.

  As he fastened the girth around his horse, he glanced over at Annabella, who was struggling with the flighty mare.

  “Are you sure you’re strong enough for this?” he asked.

  “Of course I am,” she snapped. “It’s just that Siena isn’t used to me yet.”

  At last, she had saddled the chestnut and adjusted the bridle. She leapt easily onto her back, enjoying the springy trot and the horse’s responsiveness. Siena, being eager, led the way from the stable yard onto the path that led through the woods, Alessandro’s horse close behind.

  They trotted easily for a few hundred yards then, keen to test her canter, Annabella squeezed her forward. The mare broke into a gentle rocking that was almost soporific. Annabella steered her towards her favourite ride – the riverside bridle path where she and Alessandro had ridden when she was a child.

  “Be careful!” he warned, just as he had when she was aboard old Gregorio. “I think we should stay away from this track. It could be dangerous.”

  But Annabella wasn’t listening. She was dazzled by the beauty of the forest, the roar of the river one hundred feet below.

  Then, without warning, a shot rang out. It was, Alessandro suddenly remembered, the hunting season. They’d been mad to venture out. Siena, terrified, clenched the bit in her teeth and, ears back, tore along the rocky cliff-side path, Annabella desperately trying to stop her. The recent storm, which had wreaked such havoc on Tonia’s tomatoes, had also damaged the side of the cliff, causing its edges to slide downwards towards the rocky river below.

  Afraid the mare would fall, and Annabella with her, Alessandro whipped his startled old horse into a gallop. Siena, however, was too fast. There was no way he could catch her. They were at a point where the river bent southwards, almost looping in on itself while the path took a more circuitous route to rejoin the river further downstream. Alessandro knew that if he could scramble along the bank on foot, he might be able to get back on the path before the bolting mare reached it.

  He launched himself from his horse and began to clamber through the undergrowth on the steep bank, running so fast he felt his heart would burst. Ignoring the brambles that tore his face, the vines that whipped his feet, the prickles and thorns that snared his clothes and pierced his skin, he struggled on. He couldn’t see Annabella or the mare and prayed he’d be able to reach them. Rocks and stones slid under his feet and he caught desperately at brambles to keep himself from tumbling down into the water. Gasping for breath, he regained the path – seconds before the galloping mare and her ashen-faced rider.

  He threw himself in front of Siena, willing her to stop. A big, powerful horse could trample a man but he had no choice but to risk it. For a millisecond, there was a battle of wills. The man’s and the mare’s. His eyes bored into hers for what seemed to him like a lifetime – and she quiesced, rearing up with a mighty neigh that was more like a scream. Annabella slid off her back when her hooves crashed down again – and into Alessandro’s bruised and bleeding arms.

  The mare snapping at grasses as if nothing had happened, Annabella breathed, “Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou,” over and over again. And, “Look at your poor face. Your poor arms. Oh, Al!”

  “Bella!” he cried, burying his face in her hair, too distraught to be wary of what he might say next. “I’m so glad you’re not hurt. I adore you, you know, whatever you might think to the contrary.”

  “And I adore yo
u, too,” she whispered, clutching him. “I always have, ever since I was twelve years old.”

  He pushed her roughly away and rasped. “But you adore Umberto Esposito more, is that it?”

  “No!” she cried, aghast. “Why do you say that?”

  “It’s he you are to marry,” he bit out.

  “But he loves Sassy, not me,” she said, perplexed. “He’s always loved Sassy. They’ve been emailing each other for a year. And it was sheer coincidence that Sassy was coming to visit me, and he happened to live in the village. I like him, but I’ve never loved him.”

  She felt his whole body slump thankfully against hers and heard his next words through her thick, damp curls.

  “Will you marry me, then, Annabella Smith?”

  She laughed. “It’s what our great grandpapa had planned all along, isn’t it? But there’s one thing he didn’t think would happen quite so soon, Al. The patter of tiny little feet. Four of them.”

  He lifted his sweat and tear-stained face and looked delightedly into her eyes. “Twins?”

  She nodded and laughed again. “The professor discovered I was pregnant when I was in hospital. Twin de Rocco babies. Are you prepared to take all three of us on?”

  “Thank goodness I can paint to earn a living, is all I can say,” he laughed. “Because I have a funny feeling that we won’t stop at just two children. Don’t you?”

  “Definitely,” she whispered, nuzzling close and feeling the hard evidence of his love for her. “Two will just be the beginning.”