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It took a while to figure out how to phone for a taxi but after a frustrating few minutes, she finally made the necessary arrangements. How long would Stefano be gone? She had no way of knowing; she only knew she had to be out of here before he returned.
The inn had sent over her luggage; Anna had put her things neatly into the closet. Now, hands shaking, Fallon tossed her suitcase on the bed, tore her clothing from the racks and shelves and dumped it inside. She was wearing a light cotton summer dress and sandals; they’d do for her taxi ride to a hotel. Any hotel. She’d ask the driver for a recommendation.
At last, she was finished packing.
Slowly, she eased the door open, listened for sounds and heard only the faint clatter of pots and pans rising from the kitchen.
Ridiculous, to steal out of the castello like a teenager breaking curfew, but she didn’t want to answer questions. Not now. Once she was out of here, she’d phone Stefano, thank him for everything, explain that she’d had to get away, that she couldn’t impose on him another minute.
Getting her suitcase down the stairs was hard work. She was weaker than she’d thought and by the time she got to the door that led out to the garden, she was light-headed and shaking. Still, she noticed how handsome the castello was. The huge expanses of glass were warm and inviting, and heightened the drama of ancient stone walls that spoke of power and isolation.
When the door swung shut behind her, Fallon dropped the suitcase, sank down on it and took half a dozen deep breaths. She felt woozy but there was no time to waste.
Stefano could come back any minute.
She waited until her heart stopped pounding, then rose to her feet. She’d arranged for the taxi to meet her near the gatehouse in an hour. There were still more than thirty minutes to spare.
Far above, a seabird cried out as it flew across the bright blue sky. Fallon looked up, shaded her eyes with her hand, followed the bird until it was barely visible over the water.
That was what she wanted to do. Go down to the sea, feel the warm Mediterranean sun on her skin, let the silken water lap over her toes.
If she moved quickly, she’d have just enough time.
Fallon slipped off her sandals and ran to the path that led down to the rocky beach. The sun was at its zenith; it beat down on her with an almost brutal force as she made her way down the cliff. She still felt light-headed, even a little dizzy, but the sense of freedom was intoxicating and when she reached the beach, she walked into the water, threw back her head, held open her arms and drew the warm, sweet air deep into her lungs as if it were a life force that could heal her, not her face but her heart, her soul…
“Ma e pazzo! Are you crazy?”
The familiar male voice was sharp with rage and accompanied by the sound of falling stone.
Fallon swung around and saw Stefano running down the last few feet of the steep path, his face distorted with anger. She took a quick step back, cried out as she stepped on something sharp, and fell just as he reached her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he roared, and lifted her into his arms.
“Put me down!”
“Put you down? Put you down?” He strode onto the beach holding her, his breathing rapid, his eyes hot and dark. “The place I should put you is over my knee! Il sole siciliano ha cucinato la tua cervella!”
“I don’t know what you’re saying!”
“The Sicilian sun has cooked your brain.”
“I’m so glad I asked. How could I have lived without hearing that charming sentiment?” Fallon punched his shoulder. “Now put me down!”
“Where? In the water, so you can drown your troubles?”
“Is that what you think—for God’s sake, I wasn’t—”
“Or maybe you’d like me to put you down here on the path so that you can lose your footing and make a long, graceful swoon onto the rocks.”
“That’s ridiculous! Do I strike you as the swooning type?”
“You didn’t, until a couple of days ago.”
“Owning a castle has gone to your head. Do you think you’re some—some feudal lord who can intimidate the serfs?” He didn’t answer, and that enraged her even more. “Damn it,” she said, punching him again, “I told you, put—me—”
“Stop hitting me. One misstep and we’ll both end up on those rocks.”
“Let go of me and I’ll stop hitting…Hey! Hey, what are you doing?”
“Protecting myself,” he said grimly, and dumped her over his shoulder.
“You jerk! You goon! You—you medieval son of a—”
Fallon gasped as they reached the top of the cliff and Stefano upended her again, this time dumping her on her feet.
“Just what were you thinking?” he demanded, holding her by the shoulders, shaking her until her teeth rattled. “Huh? Answer me, damn it! What’s going on in that beautiful but empty head of yours?”
“My head is not empty!”
“No. I didn’t think so until now.”
“And it’s definitely not beautiful.” She twisted out of his hands and glared at him. “Only a blind man would say it was.”
“Is that what this is all about? Do you really think your life is over because you’re going to have a couple of scars on your face?”
“A couple of…” Fallon narrowed her eyes. “You know what, Stefano? You’re a fool!”
She turned and started for the castello and for the place where she’d left her suitcase but she’d only taken a few steps before he caught up to her, clasped her arm and spun her toward him.
“You could have been killed. Did you ever think of that?”
“For your information, I went up and down that cliff at least two dozen times the week I worked here. Or have you forgotten that I defiled your precious castello while you were—while you were wherever you were that week?”
“I was here, right in my own home, and I don’t care how many times you climbed that path, you didn’t do it when you’d just come out of a hospital.”
“I’m fully recovered from the accident. And what do you mean, you were here? I saw you leaving at the airport the day I arrived.”
A muscle knotted in Stefano’s jaw. He let go of Fallon and folded his arms over his chest.
“There was a change of plans.”
“What? You mean, all the time we were baking in the sun, sweltering under that tent, you were watching the peasants from your castle?”
“Letting you people wander through my home was not part of the arrangement.”
“You people.” Fallon folded her arms, too, and cocked her head. “Yes. I’d almost forgotten what you think of people like me.”
“Damn it, how did we get off the subject? I leave you for an hour—sixty miserable minutes—and what do I find when I return? A crazy woman, only a couple of days out of a sick bed, wandering the cliffs.”
“I was not in a sick bed. And I wasn’t wandering. I was standing on the beach.”
“You were knee-deep in the sea.”
“I was in water barely over my ankles.” Fallon lifted her chin. “And why am I explaining myself to you?”
“What if you’d fallen on the path? If a wave had knocked you down?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, stop being so dramatic! I’m fine. See?” Fallon held out her arms and turned in a swift circle. “I didn’t fall, didn’t drown, didn’t so much as stub my toe.”
“Only because you’re lucky. You lie around for two days and then, wham, you set off on a hike!”
“I have not been lying around for two days. If I wandered anywhere, it was around and around your guest suite like a lost soul.”
“And whose fault is that?” Stefano’s mouth thinned. “Staying locked in your rooms was your choice, not mine.”
“Signore Lucchesi—”
“Don’t call me that. I’m as American as you are.”
“Are you? The American men I know wouldn’t try to tell me what to do and when to do it.”
The
muscle in his jaw took another quick jump.
“In that case,” he said silkily, “you’ve been dealing with the wrong ones.”
“Oh, give me a break! Just because you have this—this lord of the manor complex—”
“You’re pushing your luck,” he said softly.
“Not half as far as you’ve pushed yours. What makes you think you have the right to tell me what to do?”
His eyes narrowed. “Shall I show you?”
His voice was soft as silk, yet she could sense the steel beneath it. Stefano had shown her such tenderness since she’d awakened in the hospital that she’d almost forgotten the man he really was, the man who’d insulted her that first day at the airport and denied Carla and the rest of them access to his castle.
“Fallon?”
She blinked. He’d closed the slight distance between them and now he stood only inches from her, so close that she could see that his eyes were a brown so dark they were almost black.
A curl of heat licked through her blood.
