Lorenzo's Reward

“Far too much. Almost you look like a boy, now.”

“Do I really!”

“I said almost!” Lorenzo gave her a slow smile, his eyes lingering on the place where her jacket hung open. “You are all contradiction, tesoro. You wear trousers and cut off your hair, yet choose feminine shoes and a camicetta which clings to your breasts. Why can you not glory in the fact that you are a desirable woman? A woman,” he added relentlessly, his eyes clashing with hers, “who must no longer yearn for a man forbidden to her.”

Jess gave an exclamation of pure frustration, afraid that at any moment the entire Dysart clan would come pouring from the house to press the stranger at their gates to whatever hospitality he would accept. “I don’t know why I’m saying this to a man who I’d never met until an hour ago, but I do not yearn for Jonah. Nevertheless I’ve known him for a long time, and it’s true that I love him. But like a brother. Or a brother-in-law.” She looked him in the eye. “So let’s forget all this nonsense, shall we? I’d give you my hand to shake on it, but both of them hurt rather a lot at the moment.”

He nodded, his face relaxing visibly. “Very well, we shall talk no more of this.” He smiled down at her. “And since we cannot shake hands, English style, we shall say goodnight Italian style—like this.” He took her by the shoulders and planted a kiss on both her flushed cheeks. He raised his head to look down at her, no longer smiling, then with an oddly helpless shrug he bent to kiss her mouth, his hands tightening on her shoulders when the kiss went on for a considerable time. He raised his head at last, his eyes slitted. “Mi scusi! That was unfair,” he said unevenly.

“Unfair?” managed Jess.

“To take advantage when you are injured. But I could not resist.” Lorenzo smiled into her dazed eyes, dropped his hands and stood back. “Now, since I cannot see you tomorrow, tell me when you return to London.”

“Not for a while.”

He moved nearer. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here.”

“Then I shall also.”

Jess stared at him disbelief.

“You would not like it if I did?” he demanded.

“That’s not the point. I don’t know you. I just can’t believe that you took one look at me that day and decided—”

“That I wanted you,” he finished for her.

Jess felt her face flame. “Are you always this direct with women?” she demanded. “Or is this approach commonplace in Florence?”

He shrugged negligently. “I am not concerned with how the other men behave, either in Florence or London. So, Jessamy. When will you be free? Or am I not asking correctly? Should I entreat? Implore? Forgive my lack of English vocabulary. Tell me what to say.” He took her by the shoulders again. “Or are you saying you have no wish to see me again?”

Jess looked down. “No,” she said gruffly. “I’m not saying that.”

He put a finger under her chin and smiled down at her in triumph. “Tomorrow, then, after the wedding. You will dine with me.”

She shook her head reluctantly. “I can’t. I must stay with my family.”

“Then Monday.”

“Are you staying on that long?”

He bent nearer. “Do you doubt it?” he whispered, and kissed her gently. He raised his head to look into her eyes, muttered something inaudible in his own language and pulled her close, crushing her to him as he kissed her again, no longer gentle, his lips parting hers, his tongue invading, and she responded, shaking, her body curving into his as she answered the demand of the skilful, passionate mouth. For a while Jess was lost to everything other than the engulfing pleasure of Lorenzo Forli’s kiss. Then she came back to earth abruptly at the sound of footsteps on the terrace, and pulled away, her face burning.

Breathing a little rapidly Lorenzo looked up to smile in greeting when Leonie came hurrying towards them. “Buona sera, Leonie. Please forgive my intrusion.”

“Lorenzo, how nice to see you! I couldn’t believe it when Adam said you’d driven Jess home. Roberto didn’t tell me you were here in England with him.” Leonie held up her face and Lorenzo kissed her on both cheeks, sending shamed little pang of jealousy through Jess.

“I joined him only a short time ago. Roberto is here to visit his friend, but he will return to Florence after your wedding. I shall stay awhile, and explore your beautiful countryside.” Lorenzo glanced at Jess, sending the colour rushing to her face again. “I was most fortunate, Leonie, to meet your sister tonight.”

“Come and meet the rest of my family as well, Lorenzo,” she said promptly, but he shook his head.

“I must not keep the bride from her beauty sleep.” He smiled at her. “Not, of course, that you need this, Leonie.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” She exchanged a look with Jess, then gave him a cajoling smile. “Lorenzo, feel free to say no, of course, but since Roberto and Ravellos are coming to my wedding why don’t you come too? It’s a very informal affair. Just a garden party after the church ceremony tomorrow afternoon. My family would be delighted to welcome you. Wouldn’t they, Jess?”

Jess nodded mutely.

Lorenzo’s eyes searched her face for a moment, then, apparently satisfied she approved the idea, he smiled at Leonie. “You are very kind. I am most happy to accept. Until tomorrow. Buona notte!” He gave them both a graceful little bow, got back in the car and drove off down the winding drive.

Leonie put an arm round her sister’s shoulders and drew her slowly along the terrace to the house. “Well, well, what have you been up to, sister dear?” she teased gently. “I was sent out to invite Lorenzo in, but I beat a hasty retreat when I saw him kiss you. I waited for a bit, but then he started kissing you again, and it seemed unlikely that he was about to stop for the foreseeable future, so I decided to interrupt. Sorry!”

“I tripped and fell in the Chesterton car park and hurt my hands, so he volunteered to drive me home,” said Jess, flushing.

“With the greatest of pleasure, by the look of it. I don’t know Lorenzo as well as Roberto, of course—”

“Obviously,” retorted Jess. “You never mentioned him.”

“I haven’t met him often. He doesn’t socialise much. In fact, Roberto told me that Lorenzo’s marriage changed his brother into something of a recluse.”

CHAPTER THREE

“HE’S married?” Jess stopped dead in her tracks, her world disintegrating about her.

“Renata died about three years ago,” said Leonie hastily, bringing Jess back to life. “It was a great shock to Lorenzo. He was married very young, I think. I’m not sure of the details. Actually, I think Roberto’s a bit in awe of his older brother, though they see a lot more of each other these days.” She gave Jess a sparkling look. “Not that Lorenzo looked much like the grieving widower just now.”

“He took me by surprise,” muttered Jess as they went in.

Leonie chuckled. “I can see that. You’re still in shock!”

Jess shivered a little, and Leonie urged her inside the house.

“Come on I’ll make you a hot drink while mother inspects those hands. By the way,” she added, “in all the excitement I hope you didn’t forget the earrings!”

To the disappointment of Tom Dysart, who rather fancied himself in his father’s morning coat and top hat, his daughter had insisted on a very informal wedding. Lounge suits would be worn instead of morning dress for the men. The female guests could splash out on hats. But otherwise she wanted very much the same kind of garden party Jonah’s parents had put on in their Hampstead house seven years before, to celebrate their first, ill-fated engagement.

“Only this time,” Leonie had declared, “we’ll be celebrating a wedding at Friars Wood and nothing will go wrong. The sun will shine, and we’ll live happily ever after.”

She was right about the weather. The June Sunday was glorious from the start, with just enough breeze to mitigate the heat without endangering the umbrellas shading the tables on the lawn. When the kitchen in the main house was given over to the caterers, quite soon after breakfast, the family moved out into Adam’s quarters until it was time to get ready for the main event.

“Rounded up any more guests this morning, Leo?” quizzed Adam, over an early lunch.

“Cheek!” The bride smiled at her mother. “But when I found Lorenzo Forli was here with Roberto it seemed a shame not to ask him. You don’t mind, do you, Mother?”

“Not in the least,” said Frances placidly. “Numbers don’t matter at this kind of thing. And it was very good of him to drive Jess home last night. How on earth did you come to fall like that, darling?”

“Death-defying heels, no doubt,” said Tom Dysart. “I hope you’re trotting down the aisle in something safer, Jess.”