Winds of Nightsong. V. J. Banis

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СКАЧАТЬ one magnificent tapestry so breathtakingly beautiful one could only stare in disbelief. Pigeons fluttered, circling and recircling before alighting as one white mass.

      She saw Count Cambruzio sitting alone at one of the small tables under an orange-and-white awning. He was engrossed in his newspaper and didn’t look up as she walked toward him. Caroline hesitated, wondering for a moment whether she wanted the company of this handsome young man or would rather sit alone and think about Adam.

      Adam is lost to you, a voice inside her chided. She stepped forward and spoke the count’s name. “Tonio.”

      He got to his feet immediately, a brilliant smile showing perfect white teeth. His hair was black and slicked back from his forehead; his eyes were the color of polished onyx.

      “How nice to see you,” she said, extending her hand.

      He bowed over it, touching it with his lips. “My dear Caroline, this is a wonderful surprise meeting you like this.”

      “I know I should be back at the hotel catching up on my correspondence, but the day was too lovely to waste indoors.”

      “You did not return my call last evening,” he said, sounding hurt.

      “I met some American friends who invited me to the opera. I didn’t get your message until I’d returned to the hotel and then it was much too late to call you.”

      “And this morning?”

      “I slept late. I was going to call later today.”

      He shrugged. “It wasn’t of any great importance, only that I would have liked to have had dinner with you again.” He reached for her hand. “I am afraid I am becoming much too fond of you, Caroline.”

      Caroline laughed softly and tactfully took back her hand, motioning with it to a passing waiter. “Cinzano, per favore.”

      “Signore?” the waiter asked Tonio.

      “Due,” he said curtly, annoyed at the man’s failure to address him by his royal title.

      Tonio leaned across to her. “And did you enjoy the opera with your American friends?”

      “Yes, very much, though Otello is not one of my favorites, I’m afraid.”

      “Your friends...they didn’t, er...make you homesick for your San Francisco?”

      Caroline laughed. “No, I have no plans to return to the States for quite some time, Tonio, if that is what you’re asking.”

      He smiled broadly. “Good.” He took her hand again, rubbing his finger suggestively over the palm. “You will have dinner with me this evening, yes?”

      “If you like.”

      “I would like very much. There is something I want to ask you.”

      “Oh?”

      He looked around. “It is not a question a man asks of a woman in a public place like this. There must be flowers and music and soft candlelight and wine.”

      Caroline felt a slight tingling sensation as she withdrew her hand. “Ah, you romantic Italians,” she sighed. “I trust your question will not be an indelicate one, Signore,” she said with an impish smile and a raised eyebrow.

      He continued to smile. “And if it were, would that frighten you away from me?”

      Caroline cocked her head as her wineglass was set before her. When the waiter left, she looked him straight in the eye. “No. I’m not easily shocked or frightened, Count Cambruzio.”

      “Good.” He saluted her with his glass. “Wear your most provocative gown. We will go somewhere very smart, and afterward....”

      “Afterward?”

      “Ah, that you will have to wait and see.”

      Caroline gave him an encouraging smile.

      She had known Count Cambruzio for several months and had seen quite a lot of him during that time. Each month she stayed on in Venice she kept telling herself that she should leave, but Tonio Cambruzio was excellent company and helped her forget Adam. Tonio had not yet tried to take her to bed, and she wondered about that. Italian men, she’d found, were an impetuous lot and not a bit shy about propositioning a lady.

      He certainly wasn’t homosexual. She knew this merely from the way he looked at her. There was a hunger in his eyes that was unmistakable. Yet, there was something not quite right about him. Behind those dark, smoldering eyes lurked a mystery. Perhaps he was married. That was a distinct possibility, although he’d never mentioned a wife or family in all the times they’d been together.

      Now he glanced at his pocket watch. “Forgive me, Caroline, but I have a rather pressing appointment. Had I known I would run into you I would have cancelled it.”

      “That’s all right, Tonio. I have some things I must do. I’ll see you this evening.”

      He kissed her hand. “I will call for you at eight o’clock. I look forward to it with such pleasure.” There was that sexual glint in his eyes again, she noticed. If he planned to invite her into his bed, she wouldn’t disappoint him, Caroline told herself. She hadn’t had a man since Adam, and Adam had been her first. Now she wanted as many men as it would take to erase him from her mind and heart.

      And that might take a great many, she reminded herself as she watched Tonio saunter across the square, one hand thrust deep into his pants pocket, his hat slanted jauntily down over one eye. She liked the way he moved, so masculine and self-assured. She was already looking forward to the evening.

      Caroline took a long time finishing her Cinzano. There was no need for her to rush anywhere. She thought of doing the shops, but she had done them all and had little interest in buying anything new. Her trunks were full as it was, which accounted for at least part of her reluctance to leave Venice. The chore of packing everything seemed too bothersome.

      She motioned for the bill.

      Perhaps she would stop at the goldsmith’s and buy that bracelet she’d been admiring. It was expensive, but then money was never a problem. Her grandmother saw to that.

      She wasn’t paying much attention to anything when she turned down one of the side streets that bordered a narrow canal. There weren’t many people about and she quickened her step, wanting to reach the shop before it closed for the afternoon siesta.

      “Look out!” a woman yelled as Caroline felt herself being roughly shoved into a doorway. A second later a large slab of masonry crashed down on the very spot where Caroline had been walking.

      “Good God,” Caroline breathed, looking at the shattered stone. “Where did that come from?”

      The woman who’d shoved her was about her own age, no more than twenty-four, with wide serious eyes hiding behind horn-rimmed glasses. “Damn,” she swore. “You could have been killed.”

      Caroline put her hand over her heart to still its pounding. “Thanks to you I wasn’t,” she said, leaning back against the heavy door as she tried to catch her breath.

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