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LUCYWOKEBEFOREthe alarm she’d set on her phone, snuggled deep in a warm bed, her face buried in a pillow. In a haze of early wakefulness she yawned, took a deep breath. There was the scent of sunshine. Crisp, clean sheets. And a hint of something else. An intoxicating spice, rich and deep, that teased, tempted...hit her blood and wound through her on its own seductive journey.
Stefano.
There was a reason it had been a bad idea to sleep here. His name whispered in the recesses of her consciousness. Late last night she’d imagined him lying in this bed, thought how her body touched where his had been, and now it was all she could think about. Except those thoughts had to remain just that—thoughts.
Lucy rolled over, trying to ignore the ache deep inside, the desire for things she couldn’t have. Instead she stared at the canopy above her, richly embroidered with an image of the night sky. Constellations in yellows and golds. It reminded her of the few times her grandfather had taken her camping, when they’d looked up into the dark, clear night, and all they’d seen was stars. She missed those stars. The night skies in the larger cities in Europe were filled with too much light pollution to see anything very much.
When was the last time she’d simply looked up, enjoyed something so simple?
Her alarm sounded and she switched it off, checking a message from Stefano. It said he’d provided breakfast and left it outside her door and he’d meet her in the sitting room in around an hour.
She left the warmth of the bed and opened the door to the sweet scent of hot chocolate. On the floor sat a tray with a simple breakfast: some bread, butter, jam. More cheeses and meats.
Something about Stefano’s thoughtfulness warmed her. It was considerate and unexpected. She needed to talk to him about the violin, but couldn’t seem to find her voice. Because after spending so much time caring for herself, she was enjoying the attention more than was good for her. Plus, she still didn’t really know him, and with the thick layer of snow outside she wouldn’t be able to escape here any time soon if he didn’t react well...
They were thoughts for another time. Today would be fun, she hoped.
Lucy ate and dressed, then made her way to Stefano, excited about his offer to show her around the castle. Her efforts the days before had kept her busy enough, but it had been like walking around a museum without any guide or information. She wanted context, and Stefano’s thoughts on growing up somewhere like this, with all that history around him.
Before she rounded the corner Lucy heard him. His voice was raised. Emotive. Speaking in Italian. She slowed her steps. Stood back a little, behind some furniture.
He came into view, pacing back and forth, raking his hand through his dark hair. His jaw was covered in stubble, as if he hadn’t shaved this morning.
She didn’t need to understand the words to grasp his fury. His body was wound tight, the hand clutching his phone white-knuckled, and the other hand gesticulating and slashing through the air.
Her heart bounded. That sickening twist of nerves was back in her belly. She remembered conversations like this between her parents, when her mother had been on tour, before she’d stopped touring to care for Lucy, because it had become clear her dad had no interest. Her father would rage in the late hours, when he’d thought Lucy was asleep, but she’d heard it all. Seen it, too, on the rare times she’d peeked out from her darkened room and watched her father, instead of hiding under the covers. He’d paced like this, spewing words designed to hurt a woman who was too far away to be able to do anything about it.
And just like when she was that little girl she froze, wishing she could hide, not needing to be reminded of the ugliness of her childhood. At least back then she’d been able to pretend to be asleep through the worst of it.
She really didn’t have to look around the castle today with Stefano. Not when he was like this. He hadn’t seen her. She could slip around the corner and leave. But as she moved he looked up, his jaw clenched, that gaze of his cold and hard.
‘Back into your bed, Lucy, for Chrissakes!’
The breath left her, her heart pounding a sickening rhythm at the memory of her dad bearing down on her. Booze on his breath and hatred on his face. How could he have loved her when he’d appeared to loathe her mother so much?
She held up her hands. ‘I’m sorry I’m interrupting.’
Recognition spread over Stefano’s face. His eyes widened a fraction. Slashes of colour stained his cheeks. He murmured something into the phone and disconnected.
‘Lucy.’
Her name was said with no trace of anger. Instead Stefano’s voice ground out rough and almost pained.
‘You’re obviously busy,’ she said. ‘It’s fine. We can look around the castle another day.’
She was used to changing plans. Her parents hadn’t had much time for her. Her mother had often been practising or away performing once Lucy had become a little older. Her father always immersed in some hopeless scheme. Her music had been a blessing, occupying her on many lonely days when she’d suspected her parents were too wrapped up in their own misery to think about her.
‘No. I have time for you, and I promised. What would you like to see first?’
His words went some way to obliterating her apprehension over the anger she’d witnessed. Her father had never been able to switch off the emotion so quickly. He was an expert at holding grudges.
‘It’s your home. Surprise me.’
Stefano motioned with his arm. ‘Come this way.’
They began walking in silence. Lucy would have been happy with that had it been a comfortable and companionable one. This wasn’t.
She nodded to the phone, still gripped tight in his hand. ‘Hard day at the office?’
