by Leslie North
“Go!” Her arm shot up to point the way to the door. “There are more people in the world than you, you know. There are other things to consider besides your family, your money, and your reputation.”
Leonardo stood, and as he did he left his sentiment behind as a wall of hard, cold rock erected itself around his heart. He didn’t reach for her, didn’t speak to her. He simply walked out through her door and closed it behind him. The veil between her feelings for him and her desire to see the Romano del Mare transformed into a design that fit her vision was thinner than he had ever thought. He meant nothing to her beyond getting her own way.
Leonardo drove the winding roads of Sicily for hours that night until the light of dawn made the sky glow softly, contrasting with the earth below that was still heavily blanketed in shadow. By the time the sun had crested the world’s edge to light the land itself, Leonardo was back at his office and sitting behind his desk. An hour after that, papers were delivered by courier. Cease and desist papers. Thumbing through them, he saw Stella’s signature on more than one of the appended documents.
Per sanctions already readied to be put into effect by their hand delivery, all restoration of the Romano del Mare was to stop immediately. Furthermore, the ancient monastery was being reclassified as a historic monument. It would never open its doors as a resort again. There was no way to recoup the millions that had been sunk into its repair, and the management of the resort would be turned over to Sicily’s local preservation society though the property itself would continue to be owned by the Romano family.
All the air in Leonardo’s office left. He called the restoration foreman to his office and gave the news. He then called his brothers and did the same. Then Leonardo stood up, put on his suit jacket and left. But he didn’t stop at the edge of the Romano del Mare property. He didn’t even stop at the edge of the neighboring town. In fact, he didn’t even stop at the edge of the continent. He kept going.
He turned his back on all of the deceit that had weaseled its way into his heart, and he didn’t look back.
10
Stella
What do you mean you don’t know where he is?” Stella’s voice was pinched and strained as she turned in a circle within Leonardo’s office, her eyes scanning the walls and shelves as if the office itself held the answer of where Leonardo had disappeared to. “You’re his brother. You’re supposed to know where he is!”
It had taken two days before Stella had gotten over her anger enough to take any phone calls from the Preservation Society or to reach out to Leonardo. By the time she had, the whole world had turned upside down and Leonardo hadn’t been heard from by anyone.
When Stella learned what had happened—that the Romano del Mare had been reclassified as a historic monument—everything changed for her in that instance, and her alliance shifted. No longer was she willing to do the bidding of a heavy handed organization with an agenda that tended to be more about flexing its own muscle and getting its own way rather than preserving ancient buildings.
Now the Romano del Mare’s doors were to be closed as a resort forever. She had never wanted things to go so far. She’d written the argument to rezone the Romano del Mare as a historic monument two and a half months before she’d ever even set foot in Sicily. She’d been given an assignment, and she’d done it. She hadn’t visited it. She hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. To her, then, it had only been an ancient building whose owners weren’t respecting it, who were attempting to make it into something that it wasn’t. She didn’t feel that way now, though, and she was willing to do something about it.
The Romano del Mare needed people. It had thrived as a resort less than two decades ago. She’d seen the pictures, and it had been beautiful. The brothers had simply taken the renovation too far by adding what they’d thought was needed to entice the tourists of today. But if they kept the design elements simple in order to allow the beauty of the original structure to shine through, the tourists would still come and they would love it here, just as she now did.
“I am sorry,” Gianpierre said over the phone. “When my brother does not want to be found, there is no finding him. He goes when he needs a break, and he comes back when he’s ready.”
Stella bit down on her frustration. She didn’t want to alienate herself from the family of a man whom she cared deeply about. “And you have no idea, none at all, as to where he might have gone?” She needed him. If she was going to set things right, she had to have his help.
“No, I’m sorry.”
Stella ended the call with a heavy heart. Moving behind Leonardo’s desk, she sat down in his chair with a weariness that had sunk its way into her bones. She had not felt this worn out and used up since the days of spending months at a time in the hospital.
Swiveling his chair around so that it faced the window, Stella stared out onto the grounds surrounding the monastery. She couldn’t give up, she knew that, but she didn’t know what to do, and a fear that she had lost the battle to save the Romano del Mare settled into the pit of her stomach.
“Leonardo, where are you?” she murmured to herself. His brothers and their girlfriends didn’t know where he was. His assistant didn’t know where he was, and she’d even intercepted a call from his chief designer. Nobody knew where he was.
Her eyes drifted away from the serene beauty of the Sicilian landscape to float across the knickknacks in his office. She’d already searched through every drawer of his desk and, under great duress, his assistant had even given her access to his computer and email. The man had disappeared, and it was all her fault. If she’d found a better approach, if she’d realized what the Preservation Society’s next move would be, maybe she could have stopped it. At the very least she could have warned Leonardo about the risks.
“He’s got to be in one of his hotels,” she said to herself. He could have given strict orders to tell no one of his presence, and he could be going under a different name. When a man like him owned dozens of hotels around the world, how difficult could it really be to disappear? She could make a list, check them off one by one. Nicolo had said that Leonardo had probably flown on a public airline because he hadn’t borrowed Nicolo’s private jet. So, she could call the airlines and bribe someone to give her information, or at the very least she could make a list of all outgoing available flights over the last few days.
But then she thought of Italy, a mere ferry boat ride away. He could have gone there, and he could be there now… or he could have gone anywhere.
Pulling the stack of books from the corner of Leonardo’s desk, she flipped through the glossy printed, picture laden design books one by one. There was one on the palaces of India. Another one focused on the cathedrals of Italy. Then, there were the castles of Germany.
Her hand stopped as she reached for the next book.
“Cabins?” All of the other books had been about larger than life locations, but the cover of this book was adorned by a simple one-story cabin that looked no more than 800 square feet large. There was nothing ornate or grand about it other than its simplicity and the beauty of its surroundings.
She slid the book in front of her and began leafing though its pages. They were filled with everything from rustic cabins to cabins that would be better described as mansions. Then she noticed it, the inscription inside the book’s front cover. “The Rocky Mountains are waiting. Enjoy the solitude!” Scribbled beneath the inscription was a messily scrawled name.
“E. Podesko? M. Bolezki?” She stared at the name, doing her best to decipher it. Finally, she pulled up the internet on Leonardo’s computer and started searching. She put in cabin, Rocky Mountains, and plugged in every variation of the signature that she could think of. Finally, she struck gold.
“Frank Poclenski!” She clicked on the man’s website and started to read. He was an architect who specialized in cabins within the Colorado area. “The Rocky Mountains,” Stella whispered to herself as she Googled the location of the Rocky Mountains that cut through the st
ate of Colorado.
A smile grew, at first tentative but soon energized and full of hope. “Bianca!” She called out for Leonardo’s assistant. The young woman appeared in the doorway a moment later.
“Did you find him?” she asked with hopeful eagerness.
“Not yet, but I’m getting closer. Does Leonardo have any connections with anyone in Colorado?”
“In America? No, none that I know of.”
Stella pressed her lips together into a determined, thin line. “It doesn’t matter,” she said standing up. “That’s where I’m going. He’s got to be there.”
“Colorado? But that doesn’t make any sense,” Bianca said with her eyes wide and full of shock.
Stella thought of her trip to the used bookstore with Leonardo and how the shopkeeper had had books that he’d gotten in on special order for Leonardo. They’d been about the lore of the American Old West.
“No, it makes perfect sense,” Stella said, taking a deep, triumphant breath. “I’m going to America to hunt down a Sicilian man in hiding.” She was going to save the Romano del Mare, and she was going to get Leonardo to help her do it.
11
Leonardo
Stella!” Leonardo stared with near disbelief. When he’d heard the light knock at the door, he’d thought that maybe the local grocer was delivering the food he’d requested. He’d never dreamed that it would be the woman he’d turned his back on and walked away from. He’d relegated her to becoming a part of his past. To find her now in flesh and blood as part of his present required a moment for his brain to catch up with his new reality.
He considered closing the door in her face, turning around and leaving her in his past once and for all, but there was a look of hope laced with sadness in her eyes that he could not turn away from.
A gust of chill, early April wind blew past, and he saw Stella shiver. He was dressed in an oversized sweater, but she was still dressed in the lightweight, often gossamer-like clothes that she’d worn in Sicily. She didn’t even have a coat on, and her naked toes peeked out from her barely-there sandals. He could tell she was doing her best to fight it, but she shivered again. Behind her, her cab was already driving away down the long gravel lane that wound its way down the mountain to the small town below.
“You’ve left me no choice, have you?” he said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. If he turned her away, she’d probably be dead from exposure before she ever reached the bottom of the mountain. “Come in.” He stepped aside, wondering how he could have ever cared so much for a woman as manipulative as her.
Stella’s eyes widened at Leonardo’s harsh words, then seeming to pick up on his meaning, she glanced over her shoulder at the retreating cab. Turning back around to face him, she pulled her cellphone out of her little over-the-shoulder purse. “I can call the cab company. I can call him back. I can ask him to wait for me, but if you could just give me a few minutes, please…” She didn’t move from her spot on the threshold of his home even though he’d moved aside and had opened the door for her to come in.
A stronger wind blew, and this time Leonardo actually heard her teeth chatter. “Woman!” he exclaimed in exasperation. “Come in now.” He grabbed her hand and led her into the house, ignoring the instant heat that flared in his body the moment his skin touched hers. His body still wanted her. He couldn’t stop himself from having nighttime dreams of what it was like to be inside of her, to feel her body move, and to hear the sweet sounds of her voice crying out in pleasure, but he could control the choices he made during his waking hours.
Still holding onto her hand, he led her to the enormous open fireplace that sat in the middle of the cabin’s great room. The cathedral ceiling was thirty feet high and the towering fireplace hood made of smooth river rock climbed up through its top.
“Stay,” Leonardo said as he sat her down on the wide hearth surrounding the crackling fire. He returned a few minutes later with a mug of coffee-laced cocoa. “Drink this.” He knew that it wasn’t necessary. The chill seemed to have left Stella already, but when his hand brushed hers as she took the cup, it was still very cold.
He sat down next to her and waited until she took a sip of the warm brew before pelting her with any questions. When she’d lowered the mug from her sweet, perfect lips—lips that he ached to kiss—he lodged his attack. “How did you find me, and what do you want?”
Stella winced, but then she gave a thin-lipped smile with steepled eyebrows. Her eyes were so full of regret that he had to stop his arms from wrapping around her and pulling her into him. “I messed up.”
A breath of tense air left Leonardo as his chest deflated. It was as if her wave of a white flag toppled all of his buttresses in one move. He hated that he still wanted her, and he despised himself for wanting to trust her, but intellectually, he was not willing to let her off the hook so easily. “So, you never meant to sign a report arguing the need to have the Romano del Mare reclassified as a historic monument? You never meant to cause my family to lose millions or for the resort’s doors to be closed forever?”
Stella nodded. “I did write and sign that report. I did it almost three months ago before I ever got to Sicily. I… I thought that I was doing the right thing. My boss told me to research the property. I did. But I made an argument to them that the monastery’s original design could still be honored even if used as a resort. They told me that I could come and make the pitch to you, but I should have told you that they had plans to take things further if I failed. To be honest, I didn’t know what they would do. There were eight or nine contingency plans… and the one they went with was reserved as a last resort. I’m shocked that they did it, and I believe they were wrong.” She took a deep breath, and Leonardo could see that she was emotionally bracing herself. “Leo, I messed up…”
Leo… It was what she’d called him at the beach as they’d made love. His mind railed against her words, convinced that she was manipulating him yet again, but his heart reached for her and did not care whether she was good for him or not.
“… but I can fix it.”
The two sides of Leonardo’s feuding self stopped their internal struggle with Stella’s final words. “What?”
“I can fix this. I can make it right. We can get the cease and desist overturned. I know it. We just need to—”
“Stop.” Leonardo stood and stepped away from the fireplace as he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. Turning, he faced her. Her expression was full of confused anticipation, and yes, even hope. But he wanted none of it. He was done. He’d been done the second he’d walked out of his office after receiving the court order to stop all of the renovation activities. “I’ve put that behind me. It’s done. The Romano del Mare has taken up too much of my energy and too much of my family’s resources, but that’s over. I’m severing my involvement and my family’s investment in that property. There’s no going back. There’s only moving forward.”
Stella’s cheeks colored a soft pink the color of cherry blossoms. She’d never looked more beautiful to him, despite the pain he saw in her eyes. “You left it behind… and me too.”
She’d finally put it together. He’d had no intention of ever seeing her again. She was the past, and there was no room for her in his future.
Until that moment, his emotions had been in turmoil, but he felt himself cool toward her. He felt himself shut down so that he could manage her with the same intellectual aloofness that permeated all of his major life decisions. “How did you find me?” He needed to know. This was his one sanctuary from all of the demands that accompanied overseeing a billion dollar empire. That the place he retreated to when he needed to recharge had been invaded by the world he’d wanted to leave behind left him devoid of any goodwill for the one who had done the invading. He needed to know that no one else would be attempting a repeat performance.
“There was a book on your desk about log cabins, and there was an inscription in the front of the book by the architect of this place. I
tracked him down. I told him”—she swallowed hard—“I told him that I was pregnant and that my family medical history required us to make a decision fast.”
Leonardo’s world tilted off its axis as everything in his life changed, and he stared, gape-mouthed at her before finally finding his voice. “You’re pregnant?” It was more an exclamation than a question. His heart pounded against the inside of his chest at all of the ramifications—the wonderful, magnificent ramifications, he realized. But then the world jerked to a halt as the rest of her words crashed their way through his mind, obliterating all other thoughts along the way. “Medical history… and we have to decide fast.” His heart plummeted into his stomach and he thought he might be physically sick.
“No, no…” Stella said, waving her hand frantically in front of her as if to wipe away the words that she’d spoken before. “I just told him that so that he’d tell me where I could find you. He wouldn’t even admit to knowing you at first.” Her voice fell and took on the tone of someone who was utterly defeated. “He was completely loyal to you. I… I had to trick him to get him to tell me where you were.”
The sick feeling that threatened to overwhelm Leonardo didn’t go away. He’d gone from near-fatherhood to having to make the worst decision of his life to not being a father at all within the blink of an eye. He hadn’t even known that he wanted to be a father until that second. He’d thought that it was a path for other men, but not him—but Stella’s simple ruse had completely dispelled that delusion.
Not knowing what else to do with himself, he sat back down next to Stella. He’d felt fine before she’d arrived, but within minutes of having her back in his life he felt as though he’d gone three rounds in a ring with a heavy-weight champion. How could a woman like her ever be good for him to have in his life?
