Page 32 of Secret Admirer
Aurelia coughed like she’d be violently ill and Rebecca patted her gold knee. “Why would he want to be like him?”
Bart replayed a conversation in his mind he’d had with his brother back in Rome, before Jennifer, but after their mother had died. He repeated Anthony’s words. “Because no one could hurt our father.”
His sister pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. “No one could hurt him because he didn’t have a heart.”
True. The limo stopped in front of Axel's house. Rebecca began to inch forward but he wrapped his arm around her to hold her as he told his sister, “Don’t tell Fiona, his French mistress, that.”
The door opened, and the three stepped out onto the pavement of the modern mansion as his sister asked, “Why?”
Rebecca stayed at his side and didn’t say anything--he felt her tension.
He’d get her alone in a minute so she could relax, but he quickly told his sister, “She was apparently in love with our father in a way neither our mother nor his actual wife ever was.”
“Why?” Music from Axel’s band, Indigo Five, played as they headed up the walkway.
The sprinkles of water in the fountain danced to the music on both sides. His French relatives had mixed rock and roll with Versailles in design. Bart explained what he knew. “I’ve no idea, but Mitch the third, Damien, Axel, and Galen are all nice men. Their sister, Catherine, was kidnapped and raised away from her mother and brothers.”
He rang the bell. Aurelia asked, “Will she be here tonight?”
A servant opened the door and they heard laughter inside. They stepped over the all-white threshold and into the bright lights of the party. He pointed toward the blonde woman at the bar talking to young Valentina, whom he hadn’t seen in ages, but he hadn’t been to his family’s villa since his father had died. “She’s over there. The blonde. The dark-haired girl is Valentina, from our village.”
“I remember Valentina.” Aurelia pulled away from them. “Wish me luck. I want to go introduce myself to the others.”
Bart would let her do this her way. Aurelia was safe here, among their family, and right now his girlfriend had somehow deflated. “Rebecca, come.” He held out his hand.
She met his gaze, but stalled when he tried to direct her. She picked up the pace a moment later and stayed beside him as they walked through the party. “Where are we going?”
He shook hands, greeting people as he directed her through the house and toward the backdoor that led to the coastline with a sidewalk beside the docks. His brothers were busy in conversation and hadn't noticed him. Rebecca’s skin had a glow to it. “You look more and more beautiful. I wanted to steal you away for a little.”
She clasped his hand as he led her away from the mansion. She looked backward over her shoulder toward the doors. “But we just arrived?”
They'd have to go in and be social but he massaged her lower back and said, “A small walk and we’ll return.”
“To your yacht?” She pointed toward it in front of them.
He directed her past the yacht. The moon shone in her bright hair as he held her tight and his pulse sped up. “No. To the house I liked the best.”
She sucked in her breathe as they passed the hedges “Oh. Okay.” She tugged on his suit jacket and turned away from the pool that overlooked the water as they went up the back pathway. “Wait. This is next door.”
True. Axel had bought his next to Mitch’s, across from Peter’s, and two doors down from Elizabeth. Then four houses down another set of Morgans all lived. He didn’t explain all that but summed it up with, “Most of the island is now Morgan property. If we buy all the houses here, then we can shut down access to anyone not related.”
He walked her toward the backdoor that was supposed to be unlocked for him as she asked, “Is that the plan?”
He twisted the knob and the door opened without an issue--he led her inside the dark house. Instinctively he turned to the right and flipped a switch, letting the main room fill with white light. “Not necessarily. A few neighbors that aren't related here and there might be good for the soul.”
She circled the room, her gaze on the ceiling that was three floors high. Each wing had its own smaller apartments and uses. “I see.”
He walked her toward the bar that had wine glasses and a bottle of merlot from his brother Gio’s estate. He poured. “So what do you think of this house?”
She took the glass he offered and nodded. In the quiet space, in her designer green dress, he could envision Rebecca as his lady. Until she’d found him, he never thought once of settling down with one woman. But with her at his side, he wanted to be a better man.
He followed her as she walked around the room again, pausing to study a landscape of the Italian countryside as she said, “I think it’s lovely. This living room could host your entire family.”
He sipped his wine and stared at her figure. Rebecca was the one accessory he needed right now. Bart put his glass down, practically untouched, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “And there is also room for my yacht--but I didn't want to agree without talking to you. What is your style?”
She considered this and set her glass aside. “It’s modern.”
Italy was drenched in history. Rebecca was different and he needed another taste. He kissed her delicate, sweet skin at her nape until she turned around in his arms and offered her lips. Then, like he was starving in the desert, he claimed her mouth like he’d found salvation. She sighed and moaned, “Oh.”
