Sudden Pleasures (28 page)

“As she does not speak English, and your Italian is charming, but scant, I will translate for you,” the contessa said. “May I present to you Signora Valentina Sforza.”

“Tell her I am delighted to meet her, and that never have I seen such exquisite work,” Ashley replied.

Bianca spoke quickly to the dark-haired older woman who had been behind a counter since their arrival. The woman was dressed all in black. She chattered back to the contessa, who then said, “The signora thanks you. She wants to know if you wish to purchase something.”

“Tell her I have three shops in the United States. We carry only the finest intimate garments for women. I want to know if she can supply me with her work.”

Bianca spoke again. Signora Sforza spoke. The contessa then turned back to Ashley. “Signora Sforza says because her garments are handmade from her carefully raised silk, she is unable to supply in quantity like some factory.”

Ashley smiled archly. The bargaining had begun. “Please tell Signora Sforza that I am not interested in quantity. I seek only quality. I would require six garments three times a year, to be delivered in November, January, and May. I will set up an account here in Venice with FedEx or DHL that will be my responsibility. Does she have a computer and e-mail?”

The contessa translated. “Yes, she has e-mail.”

“Good,” Ashley replied. “Then she will be able to communicate with me. My husband’s Italian is good, and he can translate her messages to me, and tell me what to write to her. Now, can she deliver what I require?”

The contessa spoke. Signora Sforza spoke, and then Bianca turned to Ashley. “When would this arrangement begin?” she asked.

“I will, with her permission, pick out six garments today, and pay for them. She will prepare them for shipping, and I will send someone for them. I will expect the next six garments in January. Can she have them ready then?”

The contessa spoke earnestly to Signora Sforza. The conversation was longer than the previous ones had been, and Ashley wished she were able to understand. Finally the contessa said, “She wants to know where her creations will be sold.”

“Tell her I have three shops, but her garments will be sold only in New York, where the rich and famous will clamor for them.”

“She wants her label in them,” the contessa said.

“Tell her no. I will pay whatever she asks within reason, but if her label is in the garment, people would know where they came from, and would trade with her directly. I must keep her exclusive to Lacy Nothings
.
If she prefers not to sell to me I will buy something for myself and let the matter go.” Ashley turned away and began examining a nightgown. Her heart was hammering. She really wanted the signora’s work, but she wasn’t going to introduce it into the States, only to have Neiman Marcus steal the designer away from her. “You might tell her a large store will attempt to copy her work,” Ashley said, “and then we will both lose.”

The two older women exchanged more talk, and finally the contessa said, “She will agree to this arrangement for two years. After that your agreement must be renewed. Can you live with that?”

“
Si
,” Ashley said with a smile, holding out her hand to Signora Sforza. “
Mille grazie
, Valentina.”

The designer smiled and nodded. Then she said something to Bianca, who laughed.

“She says her creations will be very expensive,” the contessa told Ashley.

Ashley nodded. “Let me pick what I want, and then she will tell me.”

Returning to the palazzo, she thanked the contessa. “The New York store will have people going wild over the signora’s work,” Ashley told the older woman. “Very wealthy men at Christmas who can’t spend the holiday with their mistresses will snap up these negligees.” She chuckled. “And they will pay the price I charge.”

“What will you charge?” the contessa asked curiously.

“I don’t know yet,” Ashley said. “I must work out what it costs me to purchase them. Not just the signora’s price, but the cost of shipping and gift wrapping them, for they will have to be wrapped beautifully. The presentation is every bit as important as is the gift inside the box, especially when you are disappointing a woman.”

“She overcharged you,” the contessa said.

“I know,” Ashley replied. “But it is actually reasonable by American standards. Thank you so much for introducing me to her work. It really is quite beautiful and very unique. I’m just sorry I can’t carry it in Egret Pointe, but my trade there would not go the cost, nor would the mall shop.”

They sat to have afternoon tea in the contessa’s small garden.

“I must go to Milano tomorrow,” Bianca di Viscontini informed Ashley. “I shall not see you again. I hope you will not mind being on your own in the palazzo. Antonio and his gondola will be at your disposal, but beware of him,” she said with a smile. “He would like to seduce you. All these young gondoliers live to seduce an American lady.”

Ashley laughed. “I’ll take Ryan with me. They have already begun loading the wardrobe into the crate this afternoon. Why are you going to Milan?”

“I have the final fittings on my winter wardrobe,” the contessa told her. “I saw several wonderful outfits at the autumn shows last spring. Now that I am a wealthy widow I find that gossip and fashion fill my world.”

“I will miss your company,” Ashley said. “You have been such a wonderful hostess to us, but I shall not mind staying in your palazzo for a day or two more and pretending it is mine, and that I am a princess.”

Bianca di Viscontini smiled warmly. “I am so glad you have enjoyed your visit.”

They had a wonderful dinner that evening, but Ashley awoke after they had gone to bed to find Ryan was not by her side. Hearing voices on the terrace below, she got out of bed and, going to the window, looked down. She could see the shadowed forms of two people stretched out together on a chaise. They were speaking Italian, but she recognized the voices of both her husband and the contessa. What was Ryan doing with Bianca di Viscontini so late at night? She stood next to the window’s balcony railing, watching for some minutes. Then finally, to her relief, the couple on the chaise got up, embraced, and then went back inside the palazzo. Ashley got back into bed quickly, and shortly she heard the bedroom door open, and her husband slipped into bed beside her.

She pretended to be asleep, as she had obviously been when he had left her. And why had he left her? And why was he lying on a double chaise with the contessa? She didn’t know how to ask him without revealing that she had been spying on him. Then she chided herself for being silly. They were old friends. The contessa was twenty years older than her husband. Tomorrow Bianca di Viscontini would be gone to Milan, and the palazzo was theirs, and she was going to look up into that mirror over them while Ryan made love to her, Ashley decided. But still her curiosity nagged her. Maybe one day she would ask her husband why he had gotten up in the middle of the night to speak with another woman. But not this day. Or tomorrow, or the tomorrow after that. But one day.

I
t was raining when they left Venice. November weather had finally set in. There were a total of only five people in the first-class section of the plane. Ashley slept most of the trip, as did Ryan. They had had a sexual marathon that last day and night in the palazzo, because the weather was already getting lousy. And Ashley dreamed quite vividly during the flight. Dreamed of their naked bodies, all golden, reflected darkly in the mirror in the canopy above their bed. She had never seen—even imagined—anything so wickedly erotic as the images of the two of them vigorously fucking. She had never had so many orgasms in a night as she had had last night.

The first one had come, surprising her with its suddenness, when she watched her husband, his dark head between her pale thighs, kissing, nibbling, sucking, and licking her. The view was a completely different one from just gazing down her torso at him. Mesmerized by the portrait of him even as she felt his mouth and tongue on her clit, she went over the edge in an explosion of sensation that left her gasping for breath. And the night had continued on in that vein. At one point she had taken him in her mouth and milked him dry, his salty, creamy cum spurting down her throat, and he had groaned with his pleasure as he watched her in the mirror.

“Wake up, baby.” Ryan’s voice pierced her consciousness. “We’re going to be landing shortly.”

Ashley slowly opened her eyes. “How shortly?” she asked him.

“About forty minutes,” he said.

The dream lingered, and frankly she was hot. She really needed to be screwed right now. “You promised me something,” she murmured against his ear. Then she got up and headed for the first-class restroom, glancing over her shoulder once as she went to make meaningful eye contact with him.

Ryan couldn’t help but grin when he realized to what she was referring. He waited a moment, and then followed her. The compartment was a bit larger than the one in tourist or business, but it was still small. He squeezed into it, throwing the lock shut, pulling her against him as she unzipped his trousers and slipped her hand in to fondle him. The thought of what she had in mind had already begun to have its effect, and it didn’t take long for his penis to stiffen and lengthen. “You are a very bad girl,” he said softly as he backed her up against a bulkhead, his hands pushing up her skirt to her waist, discovering she wasn’t wearing any panties. “Very bad.” He chuckled as his hand cupped her mound, and he found that she was wet. Very wet.

“I was dreaming of last night,” Ashley said, her lips against his lips. “You woke me up just as I was sucking you off,” she told him.

His hands cupped her buttocks. She wrapped her legs about his middle as he raised her up just enough so that he could push into her wet, hot vagina. Sinking to the hilt, he whispered in her ear, “I love it when you’re bad, baby.” Then he began to fuck her with quick, sharp strokes until they both quickly climaxed and collapsed weakly against each other. “Welcome to the Mile-high Club, Ash,” he said softly, kissing her mouth.

“You are probably the best husband in the world,” Ashley said with a deep sigh. She pulled her skirt down. “I really was dreaming about us last night, and when you woke me I was so hot. Now I’ll make it home.” She turned and washed her hands in the tiny sink, then dried them. “I’ll go first,” she told him, and slipped from the small compartment, walking back down the wide aisle to her seat. Reaching into her bag she pulled out a small pair of silk briefs, and, since there was no one around them, Ashley slipped them on as Ryan reached their seat.

He grinned. “You weren’t wearing those when we got on the plane?”

“Hey, you said you were going to initiate me into the Mile-high Club,” Ashley answered. “I thought it better not to wear them until after we had our little rendezvous.”

He laughed, genuinely amused. If he had let nature take its course, could he have found a better wife, a life partner, a mate, than Ashley? He didn’t think so. And it had been so easy to fall in love with her. He had told Bianca that very thing a couple of nights ago. Restless, he had gotten up and wandered downstairs to the main salon. He had seen Bianca out on the tiled terrace smoking, and had joined her. They really hadn’t had a moment alone to talk privately, and they had a lot of catching up to do.

It had been twenty-three years since he had last seen her. He was surprised to see how well she had aged. Hardly at all. Of course, her elderly husband was dead now many years, and he was curious as to why she had never remarried. She had laughed that husky laugh of hers that he still found sexy, and said she enjoyed her freedom.

“I am wealthy. I have my interests, and am on several committees regarding the preservation and well-being of Venezia,
cara
. When it amuses me I take a lover, but never for too long. And I am very discreet. I am content as I near sixty. My family understands, and I do not have to be alone if I do not choose to be.”

“I never had an opportunity to thank you,” Ryan said quietly.

“Thank me? For what,
cara
?” the contessa asked him.

Ryan smiled. “For taking a boy and turning him into a man that summer. Whatever I’ve learned about pleasing a woman, Bianca, I learned from you when I was sixteen. I couldn’t have had a better tutor. Thank you,
cara
.”

She laughed. “It was very bad of me. I should not have seduced you, Ryan. Your poor mother. I will never forget the look on her face when she confronted me with it. It was very wrong of your sister to tell her. Our affair would have ended quite naturally when you returned to America in September. I was so sorry your mother felt she had to take you and your sisters home immediately, but at least your father remained to finish his course those last two weeks. He moved in with Venutti, you know.”

“I didn’t,” Ryan said.

“Have you thought of me over the years?” the contessa asked him.

“I have, Bianca, with gratitude. That summer is a bittersweet memory,” Ryan told her, and he took her hand and kissed it. “To have loved you once made me realize the treasure that I have in my Ashley. You were my first love. She is, will be, my last love.”

“She is a charming and intelligent girl,
cara
. I hope you will tell her about our summer one day. Perhaps you should have told her about it before you came.”

“It is in the past, Bianca,” Ryan said. Yes, it was in the past, he thought. The door had closed on it years ago.

“We’ll be landing shortly, Mr. and Mrs. Mulcahy,” the steward said. “You might want to fasten your safety belts. Weather is fair in New York, and the temperature is currently fifty degrees. Will you have anything to declare?”

“No,” Ryan said. “It was a business trip.”

“Then you should zip right through customs,” the steward replied.

“Bill will be meeting us,” Ashley reminded her husband. “And how about those nightgowns in my luggage?”

“Declare them if you want,” Ryan said, “but they’re women’s clothing, and it’s your bag, and we’ll get through faster if we don’t.”

“There is a decidedly larcenous streak in you, Ryan Mulcahy,” she told him.

They landed smoothly, collected their two bags, and breezed through customs. Bill was awaiting them immediately on the other side of the barrier with a porter, who carried the bags to the car to be loaded into the trunk. Seeing all the people around them vying for taxies, Ashley appreciated the convenience that money could buy. Bill piloted them home without incident, and as they came up the driveway in the dusk of early evening, Ashley realized how glad she was to be home.

The camera system had been installed and perfected at Ryan’s business while they had been in Venice. And Frankie had turned a large room and a small adjoining room at the top of the house into an office for her brother while they had been gone.

The next day Ashley returned to Lacy Nothings, and Ryan went upstairs to his new offices to check on the workshop in the city.

Driving down to the shop, Ashley enjoyed the last of the autumn color. In the back of her Solstice were the six negligees she had purchased from Valentina in Venice. She wanted Nina to see them before she sent them into the New York shop. Nina was already in the shop waiting for her. The two women embraced.

“Was it wonderful?” Nina wanted to know.

“It was perfect. The contessa is lovely. She showed me all the high points of Venice herself while Ryan worked to get her piece of furniture packed and ready for shipping. The palazzo was incredible. We could see the whole city and the Grand Canal from our bedroom. And, Nina! The bed was seventeenth-century, with a mirror in the canopy! Oh, the food was good too, but a little too much seafood for my taste.”

“A mirror in the top of the bed?” Nina chuckled. “I’ll have to program that into one of my fantasies for the Channel. Maybe I’ll go to Venice and take Casanova for a lover. I think I’ll be a sexy sixteen-year-old virgin for him.”

Ashley giggled. “You know, I had such a good time I didn’t even miss the Channel. I’m probably not going to need it now. Ryan and I are getting along terrifically. And wait till you see what I brought back from Venice for the New York shop. I found a source. She has silkworms, a mulberry orchard, peasant women who actually spin the silk, and she designs the most gorgeous negligees. I bought six.”

“We can’t sell them?” Nina said.

“They are going to be outrageously expensive, and I believe the city shop is the only one in which we’ll carry them. Valentina will ship me six garments, three times a year. Everything is handmade. She just can’t do any more, and she has her own shop. We’ll have them for Christmas, Valentine’s, and the June brides.” She set the embroidered satin lingerie case on the shop counter and opened it up.

“Wow!” Nina said, looking down at the ice blue silk nightgown on top. Carefully she examined it, noting the almost invisible stitches. “It’s only two pieces,” she said. “It’s amazing. And it’s so simple, but my God, it’s sophisticated and elegant. I agree. This is strictly for the city shop. We couldn’t sell this in Egret Pointe.” She looked at the other five garments. Then she said, “You want me to ship these to Suzette?”

“Yes, but first we have to remove Valentina’s labels and sew in our own. I told her not to put her labels in when she sends us the shipments from now on,” Ashley said.

Nina nodded. “You’re right. We don’t want anyone learning our source for these gorgeous negligees. They are going to make the city shop’s reputation. Suzette knows some important people. Some actress is going to end up wearing one of these.”

“It’s getting near Thanksgiving,” Ashley said. “Has the town committee decided exactly what the windows theme is to be this year?”

“Winter Wonderland,” Nina answered. “The bulletin came last week.”

“Ohh, then I had better get started working on a design,” Ashley replied.

The days that followed seemed to fly by. The wardrobe arrived from Venice, and Ryan went into the city for a few days to supervise the unpacking and start his craftsmen on the restoration. They spent a quiet Thanksgiving, inviting Lina, Frankie, her son, and Nina to dinner. December came, and on the ninth the florist delivered a Waterford crystal vase of lavender roses with a card reading,
Happy Birthday,
cara
Ashley, Bianca
.

“Oh, I feel terrible,” Ashley said. “Her birthday was on the third.”

“Don’t,” Ryan said. “It’s her way to remember things like that. She did not expect you to remember her birthday.”

“The local florist is in shock that someone would have a Waterford vase delivered to him in which to put flowers,” Ashley said.

That night as they sat down to the birthday dinner Mrs. B. had cooked for Ashley, Ryan said, “You haven’t asked what I got you for your birthday.”

“No, I haven’t,” she said, smiling.

He handed her a jeweler’s box, and, opening it, Ashley saw a beautiful round canary yellow diamond set in Irish red gold. “I never got you an engagement ring,” he said quietly. “I had the ring made for you in Venice and sent home for Byrnes to secrete. I didn’t want you to find it before I gave it to you.”

“Oh, Ryan,” Ashley said softly as she took the ring from the velvet and slipped it on her finger. “It’s beautiful. I’ve heard of yellow diamonds, but never before seen one.”

“I thought it suited you,” he answered. “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thank you, darling,” she replied, leaning over and kissing his lips.

That weekend they began decorating the house for the holidays. Byrnes went off to the local nursery and returned with garlands of princess pine, which were then wrapped about the columns on the portico, and strung between them with lights. A enormous wreath of pine, pinecones, red berries, and white heather was hung on the front door. Electric candles were set in every window of the house, and on the twentieth Ryan and Ashley went back to the nursery to choose trees for the living room, the dining room, and the small parlor of their bedroom suite. A ten-footer had already been delivered and set up in the center of the round foyer. It was decorated with red plaid bows, papier-mâché lacquered red apples, and white lights. The one in the dining room had green and burgundy silk bows, and multicolored glass balls in ruby, sapphire, emerald, amethyst, gold, and silver. It had tiny white lights. The tree in the living room was done with Victorian ornaments, many of them authentic and beautifully preserved. It had multicolored tiny fairy lights.