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He laughed, probably at her parlous pronunciation. ‘Giulio.’
‘Hello, Giulio. My name is Hannah.’ She patted her chest.
He gave a tentative smile, then pointed to the page where she’d sketched Alessio. She didn’t know what to say. Their barrier was language, but her art spoke a language all of its own. Hannah turned to another fresh page and considered the blank wall and what kind of mural she’d put there, then began sketching.
‘Watch,’ she said to the dark-eyed waif, who’d now pulled up a little plastic child’s chair to sit beside her. And she drew a field of grass and flowers. A teddy bear’s picnic, with all the kinds of fairy-tale foods the children might love. Ice cream, incredible towers of jelly, cakes. Not a vegetable to be seen. Bears playing, flying kites, including one which had been blown away on a strong gust of wind, and the bear holding it sailing into the sky with others trying to pull it down.
The little boy next to her laughed, and the sound spurred her on. She began mapping out a few ideas, losing herself in the fun of creating a joyous space, something better than this, something to make the children less fearful. Soon she had a small audience watching her. Children with wide eyes and wider smiles. What more could she draw for them? She didn’t really watch television, didn’t go to see movies, and had no nieces and nephews, being an only child, so wasn’t sure what children liked. That sense of isolation pricked at her. Most of the time she didn’t really feel lonely, not with her art. It was as if she were always in the presence of the person whose portrait she painted. Immersed in them, kept company by their picture and her understanding of them as a person. Today, she was overwhelmed by the knowledge there was only her. She looked up at Alessio, talking to some of the nurses. He was alone too. Did he ever have the sense of it, a kind of emptiness, or did duty fill the spaces?
He glanced over in her direction, almost like he knew she was watching him. As he took in the children surrounding her, a look crossed his face. Something intense, not implacable at all. The potency of that moment ignited those flickering embers deep inside. Then a child touched her arm and pointed at the page. She laughed because she knew they wanted her to keep drawing, so she turned her attention to the sketch pad once more. Alessio wasn’t safe. The children were. Looking at the boy who’d first come to her, with his dark curls and eyes, Hannah began to sketch him, a little caricature. It was how she had first started with her art. Doodling in class, drawing friends, till her parents had died and the obsession overtook her, that her memory of their faces might fade. So she’d drawn them incessantly, etching them into her brain so she would never forget.
A shadow crossed her page as she was almost done. A shiver of awareness shimmied down her spine. There was only one person it could be.
‘You have a crowd.’ Alessio’s voice was as warm as the summer’s day outside, heating her as if she’d stepped into the midday sunshine.
She tore herself from her drawings and their gazes caught and held. Her pulse took off at a gallop, the wild beat only for him. ‘Is your ego coping with the lack of attention?’
He did nothing for a heartbeat, then burst out laughing. It was as if happiness had exploded into the room. Everyone stared at him. The princely Alessio was a foreboding force. The passionate man in bed a study in absolute focus. Butthisman, laughing and real, showing his human side for the first time since she’d known him—this man was a danger. The type of man who could break a woman’s heart.
Except there was nothing left to break. She’d lost her heart years ago on the day she’d lost everything. She’d encased it in a protective cage and now nothing could get through to harm it ever again. Hannah ignored those musings, and simply took in the man smiling at her in his own blinding way.
‘You’re a woman who’s hard for my ego every day. But I’m sensible enough to know who the real talent is here. It’s not me.’
‘It’s not me either—it’s the health professionals.’
The burnt umber of his eyes smouldered like brown coal on fire as the look on his face softened, darkened. She knew it well, having seen it in his bedroom the night before. A shiver of longing coursed through her. Her cheeks heated as she remembered the pleasure, the delicious aches which remained. The memory of Alessio and his body over her. Inside her. Did it show on her face? Because naked desire was written all over his. But it had only been for one night. They’d agreed, and, as much as she craved more of him, she knew she’d only take what life gave her rather than ask for more. Since in the main, if she wanted more, life slapped her down in the cruellest possible ways.
‘They are indeed. What are you doing there?’ He nodded to the pages on which she’d drawn.
‘I had some ideas to brighten up the ward, make it a more welcoming place for the children.’
The doctor who’d spoken to her earlier approached. ‘Signorina Barrington suggested some murals. As you know, Your Highness, we talked of the ward becoming more welcoming. Less clinical.’
Alessio glanced at his watch, at Stefano, who began to approach. ‘That’s an excellent idea. I’ll ensure there’s a place in the budget. Anything for the children.’
He crouched down on his haunches. Said something to the children surrounding her. A slightly older boy answered back.
‘Do you know any superheroes?’ Alessio asked.
Hannah smiled. ‘I’m sure I can think of a few. Does he want me to draw some?’
Alessio nodded. Even in this position, he ruled the room like the Prince he was. His gaze dropped to her mouth and lingered there. His lips parted as if he was going to say something more, but no words came. Those perfectly drawn lips of his had spent the night exploring her body in the most exquisite of ways, finding places she didn’t know could give her pleasure. Yet Alessio had seemed to find them all.
‘I—I should get started, then.’
She scribbled on the page with shaky fingers. The children seemed enthralled, and she was too, but by the man blazing in front of her. His nostrils flared. Did he know what she was thinking about? Was he thinking the same? It couldn’t go anywhere, so better not to dwell on it at all.
They held each other like that for a few moments, their gazes clashing. Then Stefano approached and cleared his throat. Alessio stood, the break between them almost more painful than waking this morning to find herself alone.
‘We should go. You have a meeting with the Health Minister.’
It was said in English for her benefit, she was sure. The children clamoured around Alessio as he moved to leave, making obvious noises of disappointment as they were ushered back to bed by the staff. All Hannah could do was watch his back as he walked away from her, as if she’d ceased to exist.
Alessio walked through the maze-like corridors of the hospital exquisitely aware of the woman trailing behind him, whom he could feel as if she were touching him. The flush on her cheeks. Her wide eyes. Those lips of hers a cherry blush. She had the look of a woman well-loved, as if she’d suddenly come into herself.
It had been all he could do to leave his bed this morning. To gather his clothes, the evidence they’d been together. To shower, scrub his body and try to wash her away. Yet he had failed. Nothing could wash away the memory of her sighs, her skin, so soft under his fingers.
Then with the children... How they’d flocked to her, her natural charm and grace drawing them in like the sunshine on a spring day, something beautiful and warm, welcoming. In a pretty blue dress with dark hair spilling unrestrained over her shoulders, she looked like every fantasy drawn to life. For those fleeting moments in her presence he didn’t see problems, but possibilities, where his life only had one course. Right now he should let her join Stefano in the car behind his and travel to the palace by himself. Yet he was tired. Tired of the feeling his journey was one which should always be taken alone, with no one to share it with. For a moment he allowed himself to want without guilt.
