Treasured Lies (28 page)

Alessandro glowed on the inside. He placed his hands on her cheeks, leant forward and lowered his lips to hers. It was a brief sensual kiss that conveyed volumes. For the first time in a decade or so, he felt free from Rosalina's clutches. When he pulled back, Ginger met his gaze. Her eyes softened and seemed to be absorbing his features. And her lips were slightly apart as if something important were about to whisper across them. In that instant Alessandro was eternally grateful to Rosalina for setting him free.

She beamed a wonderful smile. ‘Is that a yes?'

‘Sounds like a marvellous plan.' He reached for her hand and with their palms clasped together they walked inside. Alessandro did a mental check of all the amazing pieces of treasure that he'd saved from Iggy's clutches. There were still so many spectacular items to examine. ‘There is one piece I'd like to have another look at. It's the gold plate Rosalina discovered, the very first piece of the Calimala treasure we found.'

‘Oh yes, I remember it.'

‘I was wondering if the decorations around the rim of that plate match the small plaques on the gold bracelet you showed me.'

‘Oh.' She reached for her long plait and flipped it around her hand. ‘What would it mean if they do?'

Alessandro shrugged. ‘It may mean both pieces were designed by the same artist. Or maybe for the same person.' He opened the door to the office and directed Ginger towards the sofa. She sat and he strode to Archer's desk, took out the key and then opened the floor to ceiling doors at the back of the room.

He bent down and pressed in the combination to the safe. It buzzed and clicked open. Using the key, he opened the top compartment and reached in to remove the plate. Ideally they'd have all the precious pieces secured like this, but the safe simply wasn't big enough.

He turned with the plate in his hands, and the smooth gold caught in the bright lights and reflected a flash of light down the wall. Ginger hopped up from the sofa and came to his side at the table.

‘Oh wow. I forgot how beautiful it is.'

‘Sadly, I did too.' He placed it on the leather trim of Archer's study desk. ‘This is why I'm looking forward to seeing them on display in a museum.'

A thoughtful moan tumbled from her throat. ‘So, I was wondering. When people find treasure who gets the money?'

‘It depends.' He lifted the plate to look closer at the emblem embossed in the centre. ‘Every country has a different law. For example, if you find rare gold coins in London, then they're returned to the royal family, though I'm sure the Queen would compensate you. In America if you find something in a public place, it really is finders keepers, but if you find it on someone else's property, then it would belong to the property owner.' He ran his finger over the emblem embossed in the gold plate. It was three lily flowers, connected with a dotted line and the word ‘Thopia' was engraved beneath the flowers. He never did get a chance to establish the significance of that name. But he relished the idea of tracing that bloodline sometime soon.

‘What about sunken treasure? Who gets the money when that's found?'

‘It can get really messy. If a diver finds a sunken ship with a treasure of galleons, that would likely end in a legal battle between the diver, the country, the ship's owners and the insurance company,
if
there was a claim when the ship sunk, that is. It could be tied up in the courts for years.'

‘But our treasure is so old, surely no-one can claim it but us?'

‘Well, when treasure is verified as antiquated and has been lost for so long that the owners are dead or unknown, it's a different story again. The laws relating to this type of treasure differ from century to century, country to country.'

‘So is this the category ours will fall into?'

‘Correct.'

‘Where will our treasure go when we get to Livorno?'

‘I'm still working on that. These pieces are of historical importance, so we need to make sure they're secured in their rightful place. I have several museums already interested. But my preference is my museum the Accademia di Belle Arti
.'
He lowered the plate to the desk and sighed. ‘I still can't believe I'm here. Even though I've been surrounded by history my whole life, I've never really appreciated it. Until now.'

She turned to him and placed her hand on his chest. ‘I'm glad you are.' Her eyes seemed to be smiling and she tugged on her bottom lip.

‘I'm glad I am too. Especially with you.'

She moved her hands to his shoulders and in a flash she jumped into his arms. As he clutched her bottom, her mouth planted on his. She parted her lips and he took the invitation to taste her. Their kiss was fierce, almost desperate and she grabbed his hair, pulling his mouth to hers. Tasting, savouring, exploring, and tantalising his body inside and out. The kiss lingered, long, luscious and lovely. Abruptly she pulled back, gasping and blinking at him. Her eyes were glazed slightly. Ginger was truly beautiful. Her skin was a milky shade of peach, unblemished by freckles or flaws, and her pale pink lips were perfectly formed. Not too full or too thin.

As if she could read his mind, she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. ‘You're a wonderful kisser.'

Ginger said it like she was surprised and he couldn't resist the smile curling at his lips. ‘Thank you.'

‘No. I mean, really, really good kisser.'

‘Why does that surprise you?'

She hesitated with a shrug. ‘I … I don't know.'

‘I'm good at other things too.' His breath caught in his throat.

Her eyes widened, then she latched her lips onto his again. She groaned and he groaned with her. He hitched her up and strode to the sofa. They were naked in a flash and he took a moment to enjoy the scene. Her body was breathtaking. He could almost feel the heat of her want radiating from her skin.

‘I want to take my time with you,
la mia bella
.'

‘Okay, I'm ready.'

He eased to his knees and slowly ran his finger from her thigh to her breast. Her milky skin prickled in his wake. ‘But we can't. Jimmy will be back soon. Too soon.'

She pulled the cutest sad face. ‘Well, we could be really quick now and then … we can do it all again later.'

He obeyed.

Never before had he had sex with such fierce intensity. She took him to staggering heights and joined him there. Her long neck was exposed to him, beckoning, and he spied the throb of her vein beneath her delicate skin. They climaxed together and his arms trembled as he held himself above her to watch her stunning performance. He lowered himself onto her body and they both panted with the haunting satisfaction of impassioned sex once they finished.

She trailed her fingernails down his back. ‘Yep, you are good at other things.'

‘Thank you. As are you,
la mia bella
.'

Chapter 30

Rosalina and Archer were met at the shoreline by a young buffed man in turned-up tan-coloured pants and a white linen shirt, buttoned down to show off a gold cross nestled amongst a thick field of dark chest hairs. Rosalina liked him from the moment he held his hand forward to help her out of the boat.

‘Good day to you. My name-a is Antonio and I be your guest for the week.' His broken English was straight out of a B-Grade movie.

Rosalina stifled a laugh as she held out her hand. ‘Lovely to meet you, Antonio. My name is Rosalina and this is Archer.' She spoke in English to avoid excluding Archer from the conversation. The men shook hands and Antonio guided her towards a waiting car.

As he whipped the car around the steep winding roads, Antonio gave them an accelerated guided tour. ‘You have chosen the most spectacular of all villas in Positano. The Soprano Villas are build-a in the very historic watch tower of Positano. It dated back to thirteenth century. You will experience momentous views that will take your breathing away.' His eyes skipped from the cliff-defying road ahead to Rosalina and even though her heart was in her throat at every turn, the tour was as magnificent as it was exhilarating. He stopped at a grand wrought-iron gate and honked on his horn. Seconds later the gates opened and they drove through them and down underneath the building.

He slammed to a stop and raced around to help Rosalina from the car. Archer grabbed their bags.

‘You travel light to stay for week,' Antonio said as he led the way.

‘Oh no.' She giggled. ‘We are only staying for one night.'

He turned, a frown rippled across his features. ‘But you pay for week.'

‘That's correct, Antonio.' Archer placed his hand on Antonio's shoulder. ‘But sadly we can only stay tonight. Next time, we'll stay longer. This time, just one night.'

Rosalina's mouth fell open at Archer's statement.

Antonio plucked the bags from Archer's hands. ‘Very well, please follow me.'

Archer reached for her hand and she squeezed it.

‘This must have cost a fortune,' she whispered.

‘The website said it was Positano's most unique luxury apartment. The minimum stay was seven nights. But how could I resist?' She loved that Archer appreciated the beautiful things in life.

‘This gate leads you to your own private beach.' Antonio poked the keyhole with his finger. ‘I will give you key soon.' Rosalina was mesmerised by the breathtaking views, revealed more with each step she climbed up the stone staircase. At the top, Antonio pushed an ancient looking skeleton key into the hole in the large wooden door. The door creaked open and she stepped into a stunning open air room with an even more amazing view of the Amalfi shoreline.

‘Welcome to your fairytale.' Antonia grinned like an artist presenting his greatest masterpiece.

Rosalina was speechless. Antonio's well-rehearsed statement said it all, this really was a fairytale. While she vaguely heard Archer tip Antonio and say his goodbyes, Rosalina was drawn to the fabulous stone-lined private terrace. The outdoor setting, with sunflower-coloured pillows and cobalt blue plates was a scene straight from an exotic travel magazine. Above the table setting was a thatched roof that was overrun with a bougainvillea, plush with vibrant magenta flowers in full bloom.

She stepped up to the railing and imagined she could see the other side of the world. Vast blue ocean met in the distance with an equally intense blue sky. Not a single cloud blemished the scene. Far down to her right was the public beach set up with rows of neatly placed deckchairs. People dotted the beach and ocean like colourful confetti. Directly below her was their own secluded beach, ready with just six sun lounges set up as pairs with individual white umbrellas.

Archer came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. ‘Happy?'

‘Oh, babe, this is magical.'

‘I agree.'

Rosalina closed her eyes, breathed in the warm salty air and leant back against him.

‘You're a difficult woman to surprise.'

She snapped her eyes open. ‘What? Why?'

‘Because you kept walking into my office and disrupting me.'

So that's why he reacted the way he did. She bit her lip feeling terrible at her doubtful thoughts. ‘Oh … I'm so sorry.'

‘You're forgiven.' He kissed her cheek and she rolled her head to the side and allowed him to thread kisses up her neck. His delightful tickle sprinkled shivers over her skin. He smelt so good, his favourite aftershave was all aromatic spices and candlelit dinners and always reminded her of their first date. It was some six years ago, and she'd known almost immediately that Archer was the man of her dreams.

‘Should we eat, or make love first?' His hot breath was all throaty eagerness that had the hairs on her neck bristling with desire.

She swallowed back the yearning to tear his clothes off and turned towards the table. It was topped with a selection of food, along with a bottle of champagne and two crystal glasses. She draped her arms up over his shoulders and pulled him down towards her. ‘Both,' she whispered.

He wiggled his eyebrows and when he smiled, small creases lined his eyes. ‘Sounds delicious.'

Rosalina reached for his hand and moulded her fingers into his. ‘Let's see what we have.'

She scanned the selection. Plump cherries. Strawberries served around a bowl of whipped cream. Fluffy golden pastries dusted with icing sugar. Delicate chocolate cups, no doubt laced with liqueur. Crusty bread with a selection of cheese, sliced meats, a variety of nuts, olives and bright orange caviar. Rosalina was salivating just looking at the decadent choices.

A loud pop drew her attention to Archer. He was shirtless now and a wave of bubbles erupted from the champagne bottle he'd just opened. She ogled his muscular torso, thinking he too could have just stepped from the pages of an exotic holiday magazine. She giggled as he tried to quickly pour the flowing bubbles into glasses while she selected a couple of bright red strawberries and plopped one into each glass.

He lifted his panama hat off, placed it on a chair and loosened his curls with his fingers. The sun threaded through the thatched roof in thin ribbons, offering just enough light to gild Archer's hair. It was much longer than he usually grew it and she liked it, it suited his carefree nature. She stepped up to him and with her hand on his bare chest, just below his gold pendant, she felt the warmth of his skin.

‘A toast.' He handed her a champagne glass.

‘What shall we toast to?'

‘Mmm, there are so many choices. Let's start with a toast to having you all to myself for a whole twenty-four hours.'

She loved that idea. ‘Ahh, a special toast indeed.' They clinked glasses and Rosalina took a sip. The bubbles danced along her tongue, tickling her taste buds before she swallowed the delicious nectar.

Archer cupped his hand under her chin, drawing her eyes to his. ‘So what yummy things are you planning?'