A Night In His Arms. Annie West
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dropped to his knees and shone the torch down the hole but he couldn’t see anything. His heart sank but he quickly uncoiled the rope.
‘I said I’ll go down.’ As if he’d let her risk her neck down there. ‘My property. My risk.’
‘Have you seen the size of that hole? Your shoulders are too wide. You’ll never fit.’
Domenico turned to scrutinise the sinkhole.
Damn! She was right. In his youth he’d done some caving but the squeezes had become difficult as he’d grown. This hole was so narrow he wasn’t sure a grown woman could get down.
Nevertheless he opened his mouth to protest.
Lucy’s fingers pressed his lips. He tasted dust and salt and the familiar sweet flavour of her skin. His nostrils filled with her scent. Despite the crisis his body tightened.
‘Don’t argue, Domenico. If I’d come out to play with her this morning this wouldn’t have happened.’
‘It’s not your fault.’ Already he was looping the rope around her, securing it firmly. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’
Deep blue eyes met his and a flash of something passed between them. Something that pounded through his chest and into his soul.
‘Thank you, Domenico. But that’s how it feels. Now, how do I lower myself?’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it all.’
* * *
The next hour was pure nightmare for Lucy. She’d never been fond of small, dark places and being confined in a claustrophobically narrow hole evoked panicked memories of her first nights behind bars, when life had been an unreal horror.
She scraped off skin getting through the entrance but to her relief, the hole widened as she progressed.
Even better, she found Chiara conscious, though barely. Lucy’s heart sped as she heard her whimper.
‘It’s all right, sweetie. You’re safe.’
Nevertheless it took an age. First to undo the rope so Domenico could send down the medical kit. Then to assess Chiara’s injuries—grazes, a nasty bump and a broken wrist. Then to bind her wrist and reassure her while she secured the thick rope around her.
Lucy wished she could go up and hold her close but there wasn’t room for two. Finally, an age later, she tugged the rope so Domenico could lift Chiara free. Lucy bit her lip, hoping her assessment of minor injuries was right. They couldn’t leave her here much longer; already she was shivering from shock and cold. Goodness knew how long it would take to get a medic from the mainland.
The shadows had lengthened and the sky clouded over by the time Lucy entrusted herself again to Domenico’s strong arms. She was breathless with relief as he hauled her up to sit on the ground. A crowd of people was there, huddled around Chiara.
Lucy gulped lungfuls of sweet air, hardly daring believe she was on the surface again.
‘How is she?’ Her voice sounded rusty.
‘She’ll be fine, but she’s going to the mainland for a check up.’ The deep voice came from close by. Powerful arms pulled her higher then wrapped her close. A sense of belonging filled her, and sheer relief as she sank into Domenico’s hold.
Weakness invaded her bones and Lucy let her head drop against his chest. Just while she collected herself. Her heart pounded out of sync as she breathed deep, absorbing the peace she found in his embrace.
How could it be? He’d berated and duped her. He’d raised her up till she felt like a goddess in his arms, then reduced her almost to tears with cruel taunts.
Her body betrayed her. It never wanted to move again.
Dimly she became aware of noise and lifted her head to applause and cheers. They were all looking at her, smiling and clapping.
‘Thank you, Lucy.’ Rocco came forward and, turning her in Domenico’s arms, kissed her on both cheeks. ‘You saved our special girl.’
His mother came next, the friendly woman who’d been so kind to her, then a string of others, some she knew and some she didn’t. One by one they embraced her and kissed her cheeks. And all the while Domenico supported her as if he knew her shaky legs couldn’t keep her upright unaided.
Warmth stirred. A warmth Lucy hadn’t known in what seemed a lifetime of cold, miserable isolation. It radiated out till her whole body tingled with it. Something deep inside splintered and fell away, like ice from a glacier. Its loss made her feel raw and vulnerable and yet closer to these welcoming people than she’d felt to anyone in years.
Finally they moved away, bustling around Chiara.
Lucy stayed in Domenico’s arms, too exhausted, too stunned to move. A smile stretched her muscles yet she felt the hot track of tears down her cheeks. She didn’t understand why she cried, but she couldn’t seem to stop. A sob filled her chest then broke out, shocking her.
Domenico’s arms tightened.
‘It’s all right, Lucy. We’ll have you home soon.’
Home? Bitterness drenched her. She was the eternal outsider. She had no home, nowhere to belong. Then she stiffened. She had to get a grip.
Lucy blinked and saw Domenico looking down at her, no arrogance, no hauteur, no accusation on his face. There was an expression in his gleaming eyes that made another splinter of ice crack away. She shivered, realising how defenceless she was against him now.
‘Thank you, Lucy, for saving Chiara.’ He lifted his hand and wiped her cheek. She’d never seen him look more serious. ‘You risked your life for her.’
Lucy shook her head. ‘Anyone would have—’
‘No! Not anyone. Lots wouldn’t have dared. If it hadn’t been for you I dread to think how long it would have been before we found her and got her out.’
His thumb swiped her cheek again, then rubbed across her lip. She tasted the subtle spice of Domenico’s skin through the salt tang of tears.
‘I was wrong about you.’ His voice had lost its mellow richness. Instead she heard strain. ‘You’re not the woman I thought. What I said this morning... I apologise.’ He drew a deep breath. ‘Can you forgive me?’
Numb with shock, Lucy nodded.
Then sweet wonder filled her as he dipped his head. Their gazes meshed, their breaths mingled and something like joy swelled in her breast.
Domenico leaned in and kissed her gently, tenderly, with a reverence that filled her heart with delight and eased her wounded soul.
‘OF COURSE TADDEO is welcome here as usual. Nothing will ever change that. He’s my nephew and as precious to me as a son.’
Domenico thrust his hand through his hair in frustration as his sister-in-law squawked her outrage down the phone line. She was family and, for his nephew’s sake especially, Domenico put up with her.
‘Yes, Lucy’s here. Far better she stays here away from the press than selling her story. Isn’t that what you wanted?’
He eased the phone from his ear as Pia unleashed a torrent of objections. Mouth flattening, he strode to the wide terrace and inhaled deep of the fresh sea air. Pia had read about Domenico rescuing Lucy from the press and demanded to know why she was still with him.
As if he had to clear his actions with Pia!
He’d only got involved in this situation because Pia had pleaded for him to intervene.
Though this had passed well beyond a simple business negotiation. He was...personally involved.