number of the books and it seems a pity to let them worsen when we have with us a willing pair of hands. The library is at your disposal, Mrs. Adams, but the child comes first and I know that you would prefer to have him in your charge. Does he yet go to school?'
'He had just started school - is there one on the isola, signore! He speaks excellent Italian and he's very bright—'
'Of course he is.' The baróne accepted that as if it were a foregone conclusion that any member of his family would be intelligent, at least. 'There is a school, but I think it might be better if I arranged a tutor for him.'
'Oh, just because he's a Falcone?' Carol exclaimed. 'I want him to have friends—'
'He will find his friends on the estate among the children of my staff, but the reason I suggest a tutor is that we are quite a financially secure family.' His eyes fixed Carol, hard and cold as stones in his scarred face. 'Would you want anything to happen to your son? I have enemies, and I have money, and kidnapping is not so rare in Italy as it might be in England. Do I make myself clear?'
He not only made himself clear, but his face and his eyes frightened Carol as never before.
'Yes, signore.' Her voice shook and when she placed the wine cup on his desk it almost toppled off and sent her heart into her throat. She almost felt like dashing off in search of Teri and taking him away from the dangers and tensions of this house, and she gave a visible shudder when Rudolph Falcone reached out and took her by the wrist. His fingers were dark and lean against her skin, and their touch was warm and curiously penetrating.
'Every Eden has its serpent, Mrs. Adams, and Falconetti is no exception. There are no dream islands where the sun always shines and the shadows never fall, if that is what you hoped to find.'
'I -I don't know what I hoped for - the best I could find for Teri, perhaps, but I don't want him hurt !'
She stared up at the baróne's face in the lamplight, dark and made sinister by his scars.
A quiver ran across her own face and she wished desperately that he would remove his hand from her arm ... but instead his fingers tightened as the door burst open and Teri came dashing in, flying headlong towards her with fruit juice and laughter all over his face that was a small replica of Vincenzo's.
'Cally, it's smashing here!' He paused breathless in front of her. 'They have horses and ponies, and I've had three peaches and sat on the swing in the orchard. Let's live here for always, Cally! It's a palace, you know, and — and—'
He broke off and stared at the baróne, and the way he was gripping Carol's wrist.
'Don't do that,' he muttered.
'Do what, young man?'
'Don't touch my mummy.'
There was an instant of acute silence, and then Gena broke it by laughing. 'Jealous little devil, aren't you? Come here and let me look at you.'
Gena took hold of him and swung him to face her; she gazed down at his grubby, pouting face, and a half-sad look came into her topaz eyes. 'You are the image of your papa, aren't you, little boy? But I wonder if you're going to take after him - he was acquisitive but not really possessive.' Gena flung a look at Rudolph. 'There might be a dash of you in this child, Rudi. Are you amused?'
'Profoundly,' he drawled. 'Your release, madame,' he added, letting go of Carol. 'It would seem that your son wishes to stay with us, would you not agree?'
'Yes,' she sighed, and looking at Teri she saw the Falcone heritage in his face ... passionate, self-willed, in the frame where it belonged.
Falconetti !
CHAPTER THREE
THE ceiling had a great moulded scene of Apollo chasing Daphne in and out of the laurel trees. Serpents entwined on the tall bedposts, and curtains, draperies and upholstery were all hand-woven.
A pair of rooms, interjoined by a white stone archway, with enormous closets embellished with brass and mother-of-pearl, and on the
'He had just started school - is there one on the isola, signore! He speaks excellent Italian and he's very bright—'
'Of course he is.' The baróne accepted that as if it were a foregone conclusion that any member of his family would be intelligent, at least. 'There is a school, but I think it might be better if I arranged a tutor for him.'
'Oh, just because he's a Falcone?' Carol exclaimed. 'I want him to have friends—'
'He will find his friends on the estate among the children of my staff, but the reason I suggest a tutor is that we are quite a financially secure family.' His eyes fixed Carol, hard and cold as stones in his scarred face. 'Would you want anything to happen to your son? I have enemies, and I have money, and kidnapping is not so rare in Italy as it might be in England. Do I make myself clear?'
He not only made himself clear, but his face and his eyes frightened Carol as never before.
'Yes, signore.' Her voice shook and when she placed the wine cup on his desk it almost toppled off and sent her heart into her throat. She almost felt like dashing off in search of Teri and taking him away from the dangers and tensions of this house, and she gave a visible shudder when Rudolph Falcone reached out and took her by the wrist. His fingers were dark and lean against her skin, and their touch was warm and curiously penetrating.
'Every Eden has its serpent, Mrs. Adams, and Falconetti is no exception. There are no dream islands where the sun always shines and the shadows never fall, if that is what you hoped to find.'
'I -I don't know what I hoped for - the best I could find for Teri, perhaps, but I don't want him hurt !'
She stared up at the baróne's face in the lamplight, dark and made sinister by his scars.
A quiver ran across her own face and she wished desperately that he would remove his hand from her arm ... but instead his fingers tightened as the door burst open and Teri came dashing in, flying headlong towards her with fruit juice and laughter all over his face that was a small replica of Vincenzo's.
'Cally, it's smashing here!' He paused breathless in front of her. 'They have horses and ponies, and I've had three peaches and sat on the swing in the orchard. Let's live here for always, Cally! It's a palace, you know, and — and—'
He broke off and stared at the baróne, and the way he was gripping Carol's wrist.
'Don't do that,' he muttered.
'Do what, young man?'
'Don't touch my mummy.'
There was an instant of acute silence, and then Gena broke it by laughing. 'Jealous little devil, aren't you? Come here and let me look at you.'
Gena took hold of him and swung him to face her; she gazed down at his grubby, pouting face, and a half-sad look came into her topaz eyes. 'You are the image of your papa, aren't you, little boy? But I wonder if you're going to take after him - he was acquisitive but not really possessive.' Gena flung a look at Rudolph. 'There might be a dash of you in this child, Rudi. Are you amused?'
'Profoundly,' he drawled. 'Your release, madame,' he added, letting go of Carol. 'It would seem that your son wishes to stay with us, would you not agree?'
'Yes,' she sighed, and looking at Teri she saw the Falcone heritage in his face ... passionate, self-willed, in the frame where it belonged.
Falconetti !
CHAPTER THREE
THE ceiling had a great moulded scene of Apollo chasing Daphne in and out of the laurel trees. Serpents entwined on the tall bedposts, and curtains, draperies and upholstery were all hand-woven.
A pair of rooms, interjoined by a white stone archway, with enormous closets embellished with brass and mother-of-pearl, and on the
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