Chapter Four #2
Alessandro came around to her door to help her out, which saved her about five minutes of awkward struggle. When she stood up, her body so close to his, she felt the same thrill of awareness as she had the day before in her living room.
“Welcome to my family’s retreat,” he said, his voice low and rough, as if he was feeling the same hot current of desire. “I hope it meets your expectations.”
Ann-Sophie drew in a breath, trying to focus on her surroundings and not on the man who stood so temptingly close.
Though she had toured impressive castles all over the world, they had felt like museums, tied to an impersonal history.
But this place was…alive. Almost magical.
Somehow, despite knowing that the Carandini family moved in Italy’s most elite circles, she wasn’t prepared for a place like this.
Maybe it was the word retreat, which brought to mind the cabin she and her mother had stayed in for a few summers.
It had been smaller than the garage in front of her, and the only bath was a dip in the cold lake a short walk away.
This walled estate was so laughably far from that.
She started along the cobblestone path, with Alessandro distractingly close by her side.
When they reached the main courtyard, where a fountain gurgled, she realized why her mind had gone so incongruously to that tiny cabin in the Swedish countryside.
This place was quiet in the same way, without the sounds of the city.
Instead, it was alive with the twitters and squawks of birds and the rustle of leaves in the warm breeze.
And though its gracefully sloping roof and arched entryway was so far from a cabin in Sweden, for a moment, she felt…
at home. Don’t get comfortable, she reminded herself. This was just for two weeks.
“How long has this place been in your family?” she asked as they walked along the well-worn stone path.
“My grandfather purchased it when the business grew. He was originally from this area and wanted to make sure our family’s roots stayed here.”
There was a way Alessandro talked about his family that she didn’t understand, a distance, as if it wasn’t his own family he was discussing but a general period of history he was recounting.
“Did your grandparents live here with you?” she asked.
“They gave the villa to my parents so they could raise their children,” he said, and his tone was even more distant, despite the fact that these “children” included Alessandro.
“My grandparents did everything they could to guide my father. This place for us, a position in the company, but in the end, he and my mother weren’t interested in any of it.
My brother understood this much earlier, but I was the fool who defended them for years. ”
His voice never wavered or showed any hint of emotion, but his words took Ann-Sophie’s breath away. She turned, studying the sharp cut of his jaw, the proud line of his forehead, looking for signs of emotion, but she saw no distress. She had no idea what to make of any of this.
They entered the villa through a heavy wooden door, and Ann-Sophie found herself in an extravagant hallway. The ceilings were lined with dark wood, each plank carved and polished, and the floors were tiled in the same terra-cotta as the roofs, covered with area rugs in lush reds and blues.
“All your needs will be taken care of by the household staff,” he said as they walked across the front entryway, toward an elegant staircase.
Household staff. Ann-Sophie resisted an eye roll, though she supposed she wouldn’t miss doing her own laundry. “I probably need to talk to someone about a low-salt diet.”
“I have given Olivia an overview of your situation and general precautions, but please let her know any specifics,” he said, and she couldn’t help but notice that his voice was no longer devoid of emotion.
When he mentioned Olivia, she heard the kind of warmth he seemed to reserve for his brother.
“She fed and kept track of two rambunctious boys. I guarantee nothing you request will pose anywhere near the challenge we did.”
Alessandro led her up the staircase and to another hallway, lined with marble busts and paintings of sprawling landscapes in gilded frames. He stopped in front of a door near the end of the hall.
“You may have your choice of bedrooms, of course,” he said in that lazy, sexy voice of his, and the word bedrooms sent a rush of awareness through her. “But I asked Olivia to prepare one I think you would particularly like.”
He opened the door into a room decorated with the same dark, intricately carved woods as the hallway.
Across the room, French doors led to a balcony, muted in the sunlight, and on the far side was a majestic bed covered in a silky red bedspread that looked like temptation incarnate.
But all of this was eclipsed by shelf after shelf of books. Was she sleeping in the library?
“This is lovely,” she said, her voice breathless.
“I’m pleased you like it, but there is another reason why I chose this one for you.”
A smile teased at her lips. “Let me guess. Your bedroom is next door?”
“It is.” He flashed his heart-stopping smile, so full of the humor she remembered. Her heart thumped harder. “But I suspect you might like what I’m about to show you even better.”
Alessandro led her to a door along the sidewall, under an intricately carved wooden threshold.
He turned the handle and revealed an area far too vast to be called a room, even in this castle-like place.
As she walked out onto a stone balcony, she could see she was in one of the villa’s towers she had spied from the road.
At some point, the balconies that lined each level had likely been used for defense, but now the stone hallways were lined with wooden shelves, stacked with countless rows of books.
Her room was just a teaser. This was the place Alessandro had used to lure her here, and it was even more spectacular than she had imagined.
Ann-Sophie walked to the edge of the balcony and rested her hands on the polished stone, gazing down the open center.
Lit in the rosy golden light of the stained-glass windows was a spiral staircase in the same dark wood as the shelves, and at the corners of each level were small alcoves, fitted with armchairs and lamps, like tiny reading rooms.
Alessandro rested his hand on the curve of her back, and a new feeling rushed through her, one she refused to call hope. He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Welcome to the Carandini family library.”
She had given him two weeks, and that was exactly what he needed.
He would ease her defenses down and seduce her in every way possible again.
Marry her. And the restless feeling she stirred in him?
The risk of exposing the raw edge this villa evoked in him, haunted by the ghosts of his own past?
Anything could be managed for two weeks.
Of course, he would let himself indulge in pleasures.
Those alone weren’t a risk. It was allowing these pleasures and indulgences to take over his emotions.
Which were absolutely under control now.
The more he had gotten used to the idea of this pregnancy, the more he saw the opportunity it presented.
A baby of his own would mean a chance to right the wrongs of his childhood.
He would never deceive his child. He could never shower this child with false affection, then cast them away when they became an inconvenience with a sprinkle of half-hearted gaslighting.
He would set clear expectations and follow through, not blame a child for things they were too young to understand.
“I can’t believe your family owns all of this,” said Ann-Sophie softly, as she gestured at the shelves.
“It’s an impressive collection,” he agreed.
“Just looking at all these books makes me outrageously happy,” said Ann-Sophie, shaking her head.
The tension that he had carried in his shoulders since the moment his brother had told him about her roundness was finally starting to ease.
If she could be coaxed into raising the child here at the estate, with its library and the walls, this would contain the unpredictability of their…
situation. So Alessandro took a deep breath and let himself enjoy the soft material of her dress under his hand and the lavender scent of her hair.
“This was my great-aunt’s life’s work,” he said, watching Ann-Sophie’s features, studying her reactions.
“In another era, from another family, she likely would have been an academic. But she and my grandfather grew up without means, and she could never get her hands on enough books. So when my grandfather’s fortune exceeded anyone’s dreams, he gave this project to her. ”
“Am I staying in her room?”
“When she stayed here, yes. Though she chose to live in the home where she and my grandfather grew up, she spent a good amount of time here, building the library of her dreams.”
“Interesting,” she said, but creases were forming on her forehead. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and unguarded. “All of these books just sit here in this house, where no one lives?”
She sounded…displeased by that idea. He frowned. “Not anymore. You are here to read them.”
She tilted her head a little, as if to consider his answer. After a moment, she said, “Show me around.”
Alessandro gestured to the main floor below, where a series of cases stood at the center. “The oldest books are shelved on the bottom floor, away from direct sunlight, where the room temperature can be more carefully controlled.”
She nodded, then began to wander along the balcony, taking in the rows of books that glowed in the red light of the stained glass. Alessandro found himself entranced by the way her hair glittered and moved as she reached for one volume, then another.