AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She felt her stomach tighten, then drop.
“More than bandages,” she started to say in a shaky whisper, but just then the door opened and the nurse and a plump man in a white coat entered the room.
“Ah, Signorina O’Connell,” he said in barely accented English, “how good to see you awake. I am Dr. Scalfani. How do you feel? Never mind. Not so good, I am sure, but we will make you feel much better, very soon. Signore? If you would wait in the hall…”
The man rose to his feet. “I’ll be right outside,” he said, leaning toward her and smiling. “Okay?”
Fallon gave his hand a last squeeze. “Tell me your name,” she whispered.
“My name is Stefano. Stefano Lucchesi,” Stefano said, and waited for her reaction, just as he’d waited for a reaction when she first opened her eyes and saw him.
There was none. Why would she recall his face, when she’d only met him the one time? Why would she recall his name, just because he’d introduced himself to her that day? He hadn’t forgotten anything about her, but that didn’t mean she’d had the same response to him.
“Signore?”
Stefano nodded. “Yes. Sorry. I’ll wait outside.”
The doctor poked and prodded, hummed to himself and spoke in rapid snatches of Italian to the nurse. Finally, he touched Fallon’s face.
“I apologize,” he said, “but I will be quick.”
It hurt. Oh, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt.
“I know, signorina,” he said quietly. “You are in pain, yes?”
“My face…” She licked her lips, trying to find the right words yet afraid to say them. “Is there a lot of damage to my face?”
The doctor’s gaze softened. “I don’t know,” he said bluntly. “It’s too soon to tell what will heal and what will scar. I wish I could give you a more complete answer, but I can’t.”
Fallon looked past him, her eyes fixed on the empty white wall.
“I’m a model,” she said in a low voice. “My face…”
“Yes. I understand. But being alive is the important thing, signorina. If not for the gentleman who brought you here, who knows what might have happened?”
Fallon nodded, even though it hurt.
“Yes,” she said calmly, “who knows what might have happened?”
Without any warning, she began to weep.
The doctor patted her shoulder and murmured to the nurse. Fallon felt something warm slide through her veins.
Just before she sank into blackness, Stefano Lucchesi sat down on the chair beside her and reached for her hand. In a dizzying flash of light, she turned her gaze on him.
“I remember you,” she said clearly, and then she fell into the darkness.
* * *
Another day slipped by. Fallon awakened, slept, awakened again.
And she was better.
Things hurt less; she wasn’t groggy. The doctor examined her, hummed with pleasure and said she was on the road to recovery.
This time, she fell into a true sleep. When she awoke, the room was filled with daylight.
“Fallon. Welcome back. How do you feel?”
She turned her head and saw Stefano Lucchesi. Oh, yes. She remembered him. He was as good-looking as the first time they’d met except now he looked exhausted; there was a heavy black stubble on his jaw and though she suspected he’d been beside her all the time, all she could think about was how he had mocked her for making her living as a model.
“What are you doing here?”
“I told you I’d stay with you, didn’t I?”
“I don’t want you with me, signore.”
His smile tilted. Until this moment, he hadn’t been sure if what she’d said meant she really did remember him.
He knew the answer now.
“You recalled our first meeting,” he said flatly.
“Yes.” Fallon took a deep breath. “So, our paths have crossed twice, Signore Lucchesi.”
“More than that,” Stefano said. Why not get it out in the open? “You spent the week being photographed at my castle.”
“At your…” She stared at him. “No wonder you knew exactly where I was going the day you told me how ridiculous it was that people should pay money to photograph me.”
“I never said that.”
“Incredible. First you insulted me, then you gave me a choice between crashing into a tree or killing you.”
“That’s not what happened.”
He was right. She still couldn’t recall the entire accident, but enough bits and pieces had come back so she knew it hadn’t been his fault. Still, he deserved to feel guilty. The way he’d disparaged her occupation, and now this…
She knew it was wrong to put the two together, but it was almost as if fate had listened to his put-down of her and stepped in to lend a hand.
Why should she be the only one in pain?
“Your breakfast is here. Would you like to eat it?”
His voice was stiff but she had to give him credit; he hadn’t marched out the door. He might not feel guilty about the accident but he felt guilty about something, she thought grimly, and tried not to imagine how alone she’d have been if he’d left.
She looked at the tray table. Two white plastic drink containers and a small plastic cup stood on it.
“Juice,” Stefano said. “Coffee, and what looks like cherry Jell-O. What would you like?”
“Nothing.”
“You have to eat to get well.”
“You should have told me you owned that castle.”
“Yes, I should have. Does that make you feel better? Are we keeping score here? One for O’Connell, nothing for Lucchesi. Now stop being a fool and sit up and have some of this slop.”
Fallon laughed. Not a good idea, considering that it hurt her entire face, but how could she not laugh at what he’d said?
And, if she wanted to be honest, how could she not admit that he’d scored points, too? If it weren’t for Stefano Lucchesi, who knew how long it would have been before someone found her and brought her to the hospital?
“Maybe—maybe I’ll try the coffee,” she said after a few seconds. “If you’d ring for the nurse to lift the bed—”
Instead, he put his arm around her, eased her up against the pillows and brought the coffee to her lips.
“Easy. Don’t drink too fast. How’s that?”
“Awful,” she said, but she sucked down half the contents of the container before falling back against the pillows.
“Thank you.” There was no reason she couldn’t be polite.
“You’re welcome.”
The silence stretched between them uncomfortably until Fallon cleared her throat.
“How long?”
“Since the accident? Two days.”
“Two days.” She moistened her lips. “Well, Mr. Lucchesi—”
“Stefano.”
“It was—generous of you to spend so much time here, but I’m all right now, so—”
“You’re going to be fine.”
“Sure.”
“I know things look bleak right now, but everything will work out.” Stefano took her hand. “I swear it.”
He spoke quietly and with such conviction that she turned her head and looked at him, wondering if she’d ever seen a stronger face, a more determined jaw.
She took a deep breath.
“I want to see my face,” she said softly.
He blanched. “I don’t think—”
“Please.”
It was the “please,” said in a shaky whisper, that did it. There was a mirror on the dresser. The nurse had pointed it out to him. “If the signorina should ask,” she’d said, and he’d told himself that if Fallon did ask, he hoped he was a hundred miles away.
