Devil's Embrace (22 page)

“It is lovely, Rosina,” she said, and shook her head to feel the mass of hair swinging free. “I could never achieve such a result.”

Cassie saw a gleam of pleasure light the girl’s dark eyes, and added, “I must thank your aunt for bringing you here.”

Actually, the last person Cassie wanted to see was Rosina’s aunt. But Marrina stood at the bottom of the staircase, her eyes narrowed at nothing in particular, a dust cloth in her hand.

“
Che cosa Le abbisogna, signorina?
”

Cassie pursed her lips at the rude tone. What did she
want, indeed. It was time, she decided, squaring her shoulders, to put this thorny woman in her place. Cassie stopped on the bottom step purposefully, so that she towered over the housekeeper, and said coolly, “I would like you to fetch me a glass of lemonade, Marrina. It is to be cold, mind you, and not too sweet. I shall be in the library with
il signore.
”

Marrina had very small, crowded front teeth, Cassie observed dispassionately, teeth unsuited for snarling.

“I am really quite thirsty, Marrina. Now, if you please.” She walked around the rigidly silent housekeeper. “
Mille grazie.
” She drew up after several steps, a bit of devilment burgeoning, and asked in the blandest of voices, “
Voglia scusarmi,
Marrina, but are you a
signora
or a
signorina?
”

“
Signora,
” Marrina snapped. She turned on her heel and disappeared through a door on the far side of the entrance hall.

Cassie was still smiling at her minor triumph when she reached the great oak doors of the library. She held the griffen-shaped knob and cocked her ears. Either the earl was talking to himself or there was someone with him. She stood quietly for a few more moments before chiding herself not to be a timorous fool. Whoever was with the earl could not be more disapproving than Marrina.

She opened the doors.

She had had only a cursory glimpse of the library that morning, for she had been anxious to continue exploring the gardens. She had initially disliked the dark-paneled room. Its heavy leather chairs and prepossessing mahogany desk were too stark and masculine for her taste.

The earl stood against the desk, dressed as he had been earlier in black breeches, loose white shirt, and black boots, his right hand cupped beneath his slinged elbow. He looked up, a welcoming smile softening his features. Cassie looked upon a young gentleman who was lounging negligently against the mantlepiece of a black and white marble fireplace, his hands plunged into his waistcoat pockets. His black hair was powdered, and tied at the back of his neck with a dark blue velvet ribbon. He was slight of build, but finely proportioned, not much taller than was she. His black brows were arched above his olive complexion, flaring
upward toward his temples, and his dark eyes seemed somehow familiar to Cassie. He looked every inch an elegant Italian gentleman. He parted his full lips slowly and smiled at her, bending slightly in a bow of recognition at the waist. He was also very graceful, she thought to herself, smiling back at him.

“Cassandra, my dear,” the earl said to her. “I have a surprise for you. This is my half-brother, Caesare Bellini.”

He moved forward to stand at the earl’s side, and she recognized him as the earl’s half-brother. He had the same high cheekbones and the same straight Roman nose. She saw that the young man’s dark eyes were twinkling attractively and at the same time taking in every aspect of her appearance. He said slowly, as if fearing that she would not understand him, “I am honored,
signorina.
The Villa Parese has never housed such beauty.”

Housed, she thought. He makes it sound as if I were a horse or a painting. Still, she nodded her head and made him a slight curtsy.

“I only discovered recently that the earl was blessed with any relatives,
signore.
”

“You must ask him if he believes me a blessing,
signorina.
My brother tells me that you are English.”

She wondered silently what else the earl had told his half-brother. “
Si, signore,
I am English.” She shot the earl a challenging look. “Although I find your country very interesting, I must confess that I miss my homeland immensely.” She would have said more, but Marrina entered, a silver tray in her hands. Without even looking at Cassie, she walked to the earl.

“The
signorina’s
lemonade,
il signore.
”

So you have engaged my housekeeper in battle, have you,
cara,
he thought. “Most kind of you, Marrina. You may set the tray on the table.
La signorina
is most fond of lemonade.”

The housekeeper curtsied deeply and walked stiffly from the room, her lips so pursed that she looked as if she had been sucking a lemon.

After Marrina left the library, the earl said lightly to
Caesare, “As you see, brother, Marrina has not yet taken to the idea that she now has a mistress to obey.”

“That is not exactly true,
signore,
” Cassie said sweetly. “If it were the contessa and not the mistress, I am certain that she would be all compliance.”

“You have but to name the day,
cara,
” the earl said, his dark eyes gleaming.

Cassie opened her mouth, then closed it. She saw that the earl’s half-brother was eyeing the two of them with considerable confusion.

She turned away and sat down in a deeply stuffed leather chair. She ignored her lemonade. “The earl has told me very little of you,
signore.
”

Caesare spread his hands before him. “It would obviously not be to his advantage to tell you all about me,
signorina.
He is such an ungainly giant and even wears a sling on his arm. So graceless, it seems, that he returns from England a battered man.”

Cassie’s smile at his gay banter disappeared. “It was not he who was graceless,
signore.
”

The earl gave a little chuckle. “Let us just say that I was careless, Caesare.”

“It appears that I have hit upon a mystery,” Caesare said gaily, looking from Cassie’s flushed face to the earl’s grinning one. As if he sensed further inquiry would add to Cassie’s discomfiture, he adroitly changed the topic. “Genoa has been bereft without your dashing presence, Antonio, but your business concerns, as usual, continue to prosper. You’ll not believe it, but old Montalto has been in hot pursuit of the charming Giovanna.”

The earl appeared only mildly interested, but Cassie found that she was all attention awaiting his response.

“I fear Giovanna would topple poor Montalto into an early grave.” He grinned ruefully and shook his head. “For a man so astute in worldly matters, it is a surprise that he would succumb to the charms of a woman half his age.”

“Caesare, will you share a glass of wine with us? We can toast Montalto’s success with the fair Giovanna.”

Cassie experienced a twinge of disappointment when Caesare, regretfully, took his leave.

He gallantly raised her hand to his lips and lightly kissed her palm. “You must insist that Antonio invite me more often to the Villa Parese,
signorina.
”

“You know that you are always welcome, fop,” the earl said, and gave his brother a light buffet on his immaculate shoulder.

Caesare shot him a mischievous smile. “But Antonio, with but your company to sustain me in the past, I really had no enduring interest. All is different now.”

“I will look forward to seeing you again soon,
signore,
” Cassie said, and meant it.

“May we always be in such agreement,
signorina.
” He proffered his half-brother a mock bow and gave Cassie a droll smile when Marrina came into the library to see him out.

In the evening, as the earl and Cassie ate their dinner in a small protected veranda that overlooked the gardens, she lowered her fork to her plate and said in a silky voice, “I find myself wondering, my lord, what your very kind half-brother would do if I told him of your infamy. Surely he would not approve your ruthlessness.”

The earl cocked a sleek black brow and sipped his wine before replying, “Actually,
cara,
I was pleased that you held your tongue. If you had not, I fear you would have been much mortified. Although Caesare much enjoys playing the gallant to a beautiful woman, his loyalty to me cannot be questioned.”

Cassie looked away, angered by his amused drawl. “So you told him nothing.”

The earl sat back in his chair and crossed his long legs. “I told him that you were English and my honored guest.”

“Honored guest. You know very well that he now believes me your mistress.”

“Doubtless you are right, Cassandra, but let us not argue about it. If you have wish to throw yourself at my poor half-brother and beg for his protection—” He shrugged eloquently. “He will likely admire my audaciousness.”

Her shoulders slumped forward. His dark eyes softened upon her face, and he gentled his voice. “I told you, did I
not, that Caesare is my only living relation? It is from our mother, and her dowry to my father, that I inherited the Villa Parese.”

Cassie looked up. “Parese—that was her family name?”

“Yes. It is a very old, revered family in Genoese history, dating back many hundreds of years to Andrea Doria, when Genoa still ruled the seas.”

“Andrea Doria—he is the one who tossed away all the silver plates.” The earl paused a moment, his long fingers deftly peeling the skin off an orange.

He gave her an engaging smile. “Yes, he is the one. He was a brilliant man, an admiral, who saved Genoa early in the sixteenth century, primarily from the French, but of course there were others, like the Spanish and the Milanese. It was he who gave Genoa an oligarchic constitution and reestablished peace on the Riviera.”

The earl leaned forward and handed Cassie a succulent orange slice. “It tastes quite sweet. I hope you will like it.” His long fingers lightly touched the palm of her hand.

He watched her nibble at the orange slice between her even white teeth and smile as a drop of juice trickled down her chin. He sat back in his chair and continued, his tone somewhat pensive. “Unfortunately, since Andrea Doria, Genoa has been sadly bereft of heroes. But we survive, as Europe’s bankers, primarily. And that, Cassandra, is what occupies my time when I am not being a nobleman of leisure, or traveling.”

She looked up, startled. “You—a banker? An English earl is not involved in trade,” she said succinctly.

“It is only the Genoese half that is so involved.” He uncrossed his long legs and stretched them out in front of him. Her eyes were drawn momentarily to his thighs, encased in the black tightly knit breeches. “It is a long tradition,” he said, handing her another orange section. “Back in the early fifteenth century, during one of the darker moments in Genoa’s history, a group of local merchants pooled their talents and their resources and created the Banco di San Giorgio. Over the years, these men from Genoa’s patrician families perfected the art of credit. If Philip II of Spain needed money for foreign conquest, it
was to the bankers of Genoa that he applied. But, of course, things change. Genoa cannot protect herself from foreign intervention. In our century, we have known cruel conquest by the French, and the Austrians in league with the Spanish. Only eight years ago we had to sell that accursed island of Corsica to France.” He leaned forward and gently wiped Cassie’s mouth and chin with a white napkin. “It is sticky, but I hope you liked it.”

“I very much liked it, my lord. It tasted very sweet.” His gentleness confused her, and she did not draw away from his lightly caressing fingers.

“Enough of Italian history,
cara.
” He tossed down the napkin and gently wrapped his fingers around a thick tress of hair on her shoulder. “I do not think I told you how much I admire your new style. It is very elegant.”

“I wish you would stop being so nice,” she said and pulled away from his hand. His lips were slightly parted, revealing his strong white teeth.

He grinned at her, a boyish grin so engaging that she smiled in response.

“But,
cara,
it comes quite naturally to me. I am really not such a bad sort of fellow, you know, if you will give me a chance. And it is my wish always to please you.”

His eyes fell to the white expanse of bosom that swelled above her pale yellow silk bodice. She laced her fingers over her breasts, aware of a delicious tingling sensation spreading through her body.

She pushed back her chair and rose abruptly. “I am cold, my lord.”

“I trust, my love, that I have a pleasurable remedy.” He rose leisurely and walked to her. She licked her lower lip, but did not try to move away from him. For several moments, he did not attempt to touch her, but merely stood before her. When he finally reached out his hand to her, Cassie stepped into the circle of his arm and arched her back against his chest. She raised her face to his, mutely. He teased her mouth with his tongue, until with a deep sigh, she parted her lips and let his tongue mingle with hers. He felt the deep heaving of her breasts against his
chest and tightened his arm about her back to press her closer.

“I cannot carry you,
cara,
” he whispered, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel the warmth of his breath. She thought crazily that he tasted of sweet oranges.

“I know,” she sighed softly, nuzzling her cheek against his chin.

He kissed the tip of her nose, and the base of her white throat. She parted her lips and moaned softly as he took her mouth.

“Will you make love with me, Cassandra?”

“Yes.” The ache in her body was almost painful.

There were no more words between them. He smiled when Cassie, once in their bedchamber, walked hurriedly into the dressing room to undress. He did not tease her for her show of modesty.

Once he was naked, his clothing tossed in a pile upon the floor, the earl lit a single candle and climbed into bed. He had not long to wait. Cassie walked from the dressing room clothed only in a gossamer chemise, her hair brushed loose down her back.

He smiled at her, pulled back the covers, and lightly patted the space beside him. “That is a lovely chemise, Cassandra, but I would much prefer seeing it next to my clothes—on the floor.”