The Immortal Greek (7 page)

He perused the yellowed pages of the book, but was more interested in the notes left in neat handwriting and wondered if it was her calligraphy. A chapter was dedicated to the Del Sarto family. The notes intensified in number on that chapter. Both Ravenna’s parents came from illustrious families. Her mother, Camilla Giudici, was a much-celebrated beauty whose father had been major of Pisa. Ravenna’s father came from a long line of Florentine notables, and he was a famous barrister himself. Ravenna had a brother, Tommaso, a few years younger than her.

Alexander read the paragraph about a sudden plague sweeping away the two siblings along with so many others in Florence. The book reported their deaths, aged twenty-one and eighteen, in the A.D. fifteen-eighty-two. A note scribbled in a less readable handwriting and stained by a water mark that had left a halo reported a different date for Tommaso’s death. Ravenna’s brother had died at the beginning of the last century.

He closed the book, feeling like an intruder prying on Ravenna’s sorrow.

****

Ravenna woke with the worst hangover she had ever experienced. Her head was heavy, her stomach hurt, her tongue was made of sandpaper. She opened her eyes and felt like throwing up, then noticed the slumped form on her chair, and she remembered bits and pieces of what had happened to her. “What are you doing here?” She sat against the headboard. She should have put some venom in her words, but it was too early in the morning.

Alexander Drako stretched his long legs, yawned, then tilted his head toward her. “At least you haven’t screamed at me. Yet.” He took his face between his hands, his fingers caressing the blond regrowth shadowing his jaws. “How do you feel?”

She passed her tongue over her teeth, then shrugged. “I’ve fared worse.”

He gave her a smile. “So I’ve been told.” He made to stand, hands over the padded armrests, ready to leave.

She reached her hand toward him and brushed his fingers. “Thank you for saving my life.”

He looked down at her retreating fingers trailing over the quilt, and his expression changed. “I’m glad I decided to visit yesterday.”

She looked down at herself, then at him. “About that—”

He raised one finger to ask permission to talk. “Before you get mad, let me explain.”

She pushed her knees up and rested her chin on them, arms hugging her legs over the quilt. “Okay.”

“Yesterday, I had an interesting conversation with Lucius Seneca Quintilius and I wanted to share what I found with you. I called you several times, then I realized I was just around the corner and decided to stop by. Once I arrived here, something was wrong, and the rest you know.”

She hugged herself closer. “I was… undressed.”

“I covered you.” Alexander stiffened and his voice held a cold note.

“I have a vague recollection of the doctor being here.” She was usually quite blunt and got to the point without dancing around questions, but words failed her. “But I sensed only you around.”

His hands left the armrests and he stepped out of the chair, farther away from the bed. “I stayed the whole night. Mostly, I sat here. Besides giving you water and wiping your forehead dry, I haven’t touched you. Is that what are you hinting at?”

Any other time, she would have answered. Instead, she wiggled her toes and kept silent.

Alexander turned and walked toward the hallway, but stopped at the door and looked at her from over his shoulder. “I assure you, I like my lovers to be fully awake.”

He looked and sounded hurt and she felt terrible for the implication.

“I’ll call Samuel and ask him to send a woman nurse to attend to you.” He reached for his jeans’ rear pocket and retrieved a cell phone while stepping into the hallway.

Ravenna raised her voice to be heard. “Speaking of which, I guess I should report to Samuel—”

Cell phone at his ear, he reappeared in the doorway. “You need to rest. You were drugged with a paralyzing agent, then had your stomach pumped.”

“I’m fine. I told you, this is nothing.” She raised her legs and swung them over the side of the bed. The moment her feet touched the floor, her head swam, and she was taken by a bout of nausea.

“I understand you’d do anything to fall into my arms, but take it easy, enforcer.” One moment he was outside her room, the next he was leaning over the bed, his arms protectively supporting her.

“You wish.” She inhaled his scent through his shirt tailored to show his lean physique and felt even more lightheaded. His arms felt strong and she wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his embrace, her eyes already closing. He shuddered and she found herself clinging to his shirt, her hands fisting its fine fabric in knots.

When she looked up, she found his eyes staring down at hers, and she had to unlock her gaze, unable to bear his intensity. “I think I need a bath.” She wasn’t sure she had said the words out loud until he replied to her.

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Maybe you should wait for the nurse to arrive.” He let her down on the bed and gently released his hold on her back.

“No, it can’t wait.” She mustered all the strength needed and scooted to the edge of the bed, then planted her feet firmly on the floor, and this time succeeded in standing up. “See. I’m fine. I don’t need a nurse.”

He shook his head, but didn’t come any closer or even try to help when she staggered toward the bathroom. Instead, he walked out and announced he was going to prepare some breakfast.

Ravenna had underestimated the damage her body had suffered. As an immortal, very few things could kill her. Even the paralyzing poison would have only slowed her down, but she wasn’t feeling as fine as she had proclaimed. Still, she dragged herself to the shower stall and let the water wash over her for several minutes.

“Is everything okay?”

Alexander’s voice came muffled from over the waterfall. She cleared a patch of fogged glass panel with her hand to glance outside, and was relieved by the fact he wasn’t in sight. “Just taking my time.”

“Breakfast will be ready in a few.” His voice sounded more distant.

“Okay.” She passed her palm over her face. Alexander Drako, the playboy, the womanizer, the man she had been avoiding like the plague, was fixing a meal for her. In her kitchen. While she showered. And she liked the idea.

She dried herself quickly, wrapped a towel around her body, and walked to her underwear dresser where she picked out matching black lace panties and a bra. She donned the undies, gave herself a good look in the mirror over her vanity desk, decided she looked okay given the recent events, and chose an outfit with greater care than usual.

****

Alexander was making an omelet when Ravenna reemerged from her bedroom after taking the longest shower in the history of all showers. While cleaning the mess in her kitchen—a novel activity for him since Pietro and Marta magically tidied up the house after him—he had been tempted more than once to swarm into the bathroom and see if she was okay. “I put together a light meal.” He usually followed the Italian tenet of breakfast made of coffee or cappuccino and croissants. He couldn’t eat anything else beside a plate of fresh fruit before the first hours of the afternoon. “I can make something else if you don’t like omelets.”

She entered the kitchen in high heels, black pencil skirt, black button-down shirt, her hair collected in a high pony tail. Seemingly oblivious to what he had just said, she gave him a puzzled look, her eyes traveling from his face to the non-stick pan he held in his left hand. She opened her mouth to say something, but from the frown on her face, he understood the gist and raised the other hand to wave the wooden spatula he was using.

“I’d never scratch a pan.”

“You know your way around the kitchen.” Her eyes intently studying him, she walked to the table and leaned against it, legs crossed, arms straight to the side, palms down on the polished wooden surface.

“I know my way around all sorts of things, women being my expertise.”

She scoffed. “If only.”

“
You wish
.” Before turning toward the stove and focusing on his omelet, Alexander made the mistake of giving her another look and realized the austere, masculine shirt she wore was made of a silk so fine, depending on how the light cut through the fabric, it was transparent. Underneath, he had a brief peek at a black, lacy bra with thin straps crisscrossing the swell of her breasts. Images of Ravenna arranged in several poses over that same table populated his mind. He had already cornered her against it, upper body leaning over the table, straight legs parted—

“I’m hungry.”

With his back to her, he couldn’t see the expression on her face, but he could have sworn she had said it on purpose. Most probably, it was his overactive imagination. His parents had told him that his tendency to daydream would be the end of him. His nose caught the unmistakable smell of burnt food and he looked down at the egg mix he had spilled on the burner below the pan. He forced himself to focus on cooking breakfast. When the omelet was ready, he turned to face her. She was sitting at the table, her legs united and to the side of the chair, one hand under her chin as she scrolled down items on her cell phone.

As he approached the table, she raised her eyes toward him. “You did call me yesterday. What was so important it couldn’t wait and you had to drive up here?”

Alexander placed the pan over the trivet, took one of the two ceramic plates he had found in the modern cupboard by the stove, and served her a big portion of omelet. He filled his plate as well, then sat at the opposite side of the table from her and stared into her eyes. “I wanted to see you.” Pleased by the visible intake of breath his words had caused in Ravenna, with a smile he gestured toward her plate. “Eat before it becomes too cold.”

When they silently finished their omelets, he served her the fruit salad he had made with the oranges, apples, and bananas he had found in the fridge. She remained subdued the whole time, but offered to make coffee at the end of the meal.

“No offense, but I only drink espresso I prepare myself.” His cell phone rang. “Must take this.” He noticed she made a face, and he added, “It’s Samuel.”

****

Ravenna wasn’t sure she liked how he could read her so easily. It seemed he was in her mind, answering questions she hadn’t yet formulated. She watched as the conversation changed the expression on Alexander’s face from happy to sad in the span of a few sentences. He hung up, and left the table. “We must go—” He paused to look at her and continued. “I can go if you don’t feel like it.”

She waved his concern away, putting aside her chair as well. “I’m ready. Where?”

“To Castel Sant’ Angelo. Samuel needs to debrief us about a second Immortal Death.” He paced back and forth between the stove and the table. “They found another girl. Earlier this morning, a row crew found her stranded by one of the bends in the Tiber. Her body was semi-hidden by the reeds, just around the pier of the Tiber Golf Club.”

Less than ten minutes later, they were on the road. Alexander had insisted on driving and she had accepted. She felt fine for the most part, but she hated to admit she was still lightheaded. The traffic wasn’t heavy and she even let him open the top of the Mercedes. Half an hour later, they arrived at their destination. He parked on the red level of the subterranean garage.

“When you want, you can drive.” She didn’t wait for him to open her door.

“Told you I know my way around things.” He closed the door for her though, then headed toward the Promenade. “I could even show you a thing or two if you were nicer to me.”

She walked in the opposite direction. “Come,
I’ll
show you something.” She let him ride the internal elevator to Samuel’s floor.

“That’s how you tricked me last time.” He was standing in the middle of the elevator, arms crossed over his chest, legs slightly apart, the corner of his mouth turned up in a lopsided smile. He didn’t move an inch, even when the elevator lurched upward.

She couldn’t help but notice how he exuded an aura of command in his controlled movements and words. “A girl must have a few tricks under her sleeves.”

“I agree.” His eyes slid down to her shirt and his lips seemed to moisten.

Ravenna automatically stepped out from under the bright light fixture on the elevator ceiling. She felt stupid. She had chosen that shirt to draw his attention and now she blushed like an adolescent. Men usually cowered before her, rarely finding the courage to approach her. But Alexander told her the most outrageous things at the most inappropriate moments. Automatically looking for comfort, she brought her left hand over her right wrist to play with her charms. The watch wasn’t on her wrist. She had forgotten to wear it. Her hands went to her earlobes and was relieved to find her pearl earrings. Without them, she felt naked. She always wore the earrings and the watch.

“Those pearls make your eyes sparkle.” He stepped closer to her, and without notice put a finger under her chin and raised her face to his. “I’d like to see you wearing only your earrings.”

She stopped breathing, unable to do anything but wait for his mouth to lower on hers. The elevator dinged, announcing it had arrived at the chosen floor, and stopped. Alexander lowered his hand and stepped away from her. She exited the elevator in a haze of mixed feelings. Her body had reacted to his call and she was afraid she might look as disheveled as she felt. By the time they reached Samuel’s door, her skin was still tingling, and she hadn’t regained the ability to breathe properly.

Without saying a word, Alexander grabbed her hand, gave it a soft squeeze, then let it go as he knocked on the door. In that brief moment before Samuel answered to the knock, she locked eyes with Alexander and he smiled at her, a sweet little smile, nothing more. If his teasing had the power to unsettle her, his tenderness would be her ruin, because she knew she would be powerless if he decided to start smiling like that at her.

“Come in.” The angel opened the door and stepped aside to let them in, then walked to the open window where he hopped on the large windowsill, his broken wings’ feathers ruffled by the breeze. He waited for them to take their seats before the desk. “I didn’t want to tell you on the phone, but we already know the identity of the girl.” He spoke looking at Alexander. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head, turned his gaze outside, then faced back to the room.