In The Count's Bed: The Count's Blackmail Bargain / The French Count's Pregnant Bride / The Italian Count's Baby

‘Why? There is nothing I can do, mia cara.’ He smiled at her. ‘So, I shall let you be agitated for both of us.’

Well, she could manage that—no problem, Laura thought grimly.

She picked up her glass, and drank again, aware that her hand was shaking, and hoping—praying—that he wouldn’t notice in the uncertain light. She said huskily, ‘There’s the Jeep. We could—drive somewhere—some place with lights and a phone.’

‘In this weather, on that road?’ he queried softly. ‘You are suddenly very brave, mia bella. Far braver than myself, I must tell you. So, do you wish me to give you the keys, because I am going nowhere.’ He paused. ‘You can drive?’

‘I’ve passed my test,’ she said guardedly.

His smile widened. ‘Then the decision is yours. But you may feel it is safer to remain here.’

There was a silence, then Laura reluctantly nodded.

‘Bene,’ he approved lazily. ‘And now I will make a deal with you, Laura mia. In the morning, when this weather has cleared, I will drive you anywhere you wish to go, but only if—tonight…’ He paused again, deliberately allowing the silence to lengthen between them.

Laura’s mouth felt suddenly dry. She said, ‘What—what about tonight, signore? What are you asking?’

He said quietly, ‘That you will again play the piano for me.’

‘Play the piano?’ Laura was genuinely taken aback. ‘You’re not serious.’

‘I am most serious. You played the first night you were in my house. Why not the last? After all, you are going back to your own country. I may never have the opportunity to listen to you play again.’

Laura looked down at the table. ‘I’d have thought that was a positive advantage.’

He clicked his tongue in reproof. ‘And that is false modesty, mia cara. I have heard you practising each day. And once I found Emilia weeping in the hall, because your playing brought back memories of my mother for her also.’

‘Oh, no.’ Laura glanced up in dismay. ‘Lord, I’m so sorry.’

‘No need,’ he said. ‘They were happy tears. She loved my mother very much.’ He rose. ‘So, Laura mia, you will indulge me?’

Reluctantly, she followed him to the salotto, waiting while he carefully positioned more candelabra on top of the piano.

‘There,’ he said at last. ‘Will that do?’

‘Well, yes, I suppose…’ She sat down at the keyboard, giving him a questioning look. ‘What do you want me to play?’

‘Something calming, I think.’ Alessio sent a wry glance upwards as thunder rumbled ominously once more. ‘That piece you have been practising, perhaps.’

‘”Clair de Lune’’?’ She bit her lip. ‘I’d almost forgotten it, and it’s still not really up to performance standard.’

‘But very beautiful,’ he returned. He sat down in the corner of a sofa, stretching long legs in front of him. ‘So—if you please?’

Swallowing nervously, she let her fingers touch the keys, searching out the first dreamy chords, only too conscious of the silent man, listening, and watching.

But, somehow, as she played her confidence grew with her concentration, and she found herself moving through the passionate middle section with barely a falter into the gentle, almost yearning clarity of the final passage. And silence.

Alessio rose and walked across to the piano, joining her on the long padded stool. He said softly, ‘Grazie,’ and took her hand, raising it to his lips. He turned it gently, pressing his mouth to the leaping pulse in her wrist, then kissed the palm of her hand slowly and sensuously.

Her voice was suddenly a thread. ‘Please—don’t do that?’

He raised his head, the dark eyes smiling into hers. He said, ‘I am not allowed to pay homage to your artistry—even when it has conquered the storm?’

The lightning was barely visible now, she realised, and the thunder only a distant growl.

‘It—it does seem to have moved away.’ She tried to retrieve her hand, and failed. ‘Perhaps the electricity will come on again soon.’

‘You don’t like the candlelight?’

Laura hesitated. ‘Oh, yes, but I wouldn’t want to read by it, and I was really hoping to finish my book before tomorrow,’ she added over-brightly, aware that his fingers were caressing hers, sending little tremors shivering down her spine. It seemed as if she could feel every thread in her dress touching her bare skin.

‘Then we will have to think of some other form of entertainment that may be easier on the eyes.’ Alessio paused. ‘Do you play cards?’

She shrugged. ‘The usual family games.’

‘And poker?’

‘I know the value of the various hands,’ she said. ‘But that’s about all.’