Blackpeak Vines Page 8

  Ella glanced back at him, pressing her hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle. She shook her head.

  ‘How about now?’ Amy asked.

  Ella looked again. Having located a garden hose, Vito had stripped off his shirt and was pouring water over his head.

  ‘Washboard abs,’ Amy sighed. ‘It’s enough to make a girl change her mind about laundry.’

  ‘You’ve only just noticed? You’ve been looking at him all week,’ Ella said.

  ‘No, I’ve been looking at him.’ Amy jerked her thumb at Quentin. ‘Anyway, that was work. This is recreation. Do you think he’s going to take those jeans off as well?’

  Through the hedge, they heard the churn of wheels on gravel. A few seconds later, Charlotte walked through the gap in the macrocarpas, Carr Fergusson behind her. So that’s where he’d been all day.

  ‘No man left behind,’ Carr declared, clapping Charlotte on the shoulder.

  ‘Just a perfectly good roll of wire,’ said Charlotte, slipping under Rob’s waiting arm.

  ‘We’ll pick it up when we muster next month,’ Rob smiled. He wrapped his other arm around her. ‘Poor baby. Did you have a nice walk?’

  ‘I spotted two woollies and a yearling bull calf hiding up above Stony Gully.’ Charlotte leaned back in his arms, looking up at him.

  ‘Good for you.’

  Ella turned away as he kissed her.

  She couldn’t escape for long. Having ceded the shower to Vito’s greater need, Charlotte and Rob came to join them — or rather, Ella thought nastily, the bottle of wine Nick had just brought in — in the living room. Glass in hand, Charlotte sprawled on the rug in front of the unlit fire, leaning back against Rob’s chest as he settled himself behind her. Carr, who had followed them in, took one of the several empty chairs.

  ‘We’re not allowed on the furniture,’ Rob explained to him, with a grin, ‘until we’ve washed up. Hannah’s rules.’

  ‘Cheers.’ Charlotte raised her glass. Setting it down again, she flexed her neck, then sighed contentedly as Rob began to rub her shoulders.

  ‘What can I get you, Carr?’ asked Nick, holding up the bottle.

  ‘Not for me.’ Carr shook his head. ‘I’m still hoping I might get out of here.’

  You’re not the only one, thought Ella.

  ‘I’ve made up a couple of rooms in the quarters if you do need to stay.’ Hannah walked in with a platter of cheese and crackers. ‘It’s a full house up here.’

  Oh, thank heavens for that. At least she wouldn’t have to share a roof with … that. Ella averted her eyes from Rob’s hand, which, having slipped from Charlotte’s shoulder, was now absent-mindedly moving over her upper arm.

  ‘Where’s Jen?’ asked Charlotte.

  ‘She said to say she needs a night off—’ Hannah caught herself. ‘I mean, in.’ She and Charlotte exchanged a look. Ella suspected they’d like a night off themselves.

  ‘Is she coming up for dinner?’

  ‘Um, no, not tonight.’

  Leaning forward, Charlotte helped herself to the cheese. ‘What are we having?’

  ‘Slow-roasted shoulder of lamb,’ Hannah said, rather proudly, ‘with lemon and oregano. And the last of the new potatoes from the garden. It’s nearly ready.’

  ‘What’s Jen having?’ Carr sounded amused.

  ‘Beans on toast,’ chorused Charlotte, Hannah and Rob, rolling their eyes at each other.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Ella told Hannah. ‘The last thing you need is more guests.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ replied Hannah, firmly. ‘It’s no trouble at all.’

  ‘I can still get one of the boys to come and pick us up,’ offered Carr. ‘It’s only a couple of hours’ drive.’

  Ella’s heart leapt. Lizzie had offered to come and get her, of course, when she rang. But four hours ago, with Vito in view, spending the evening — potentially even the night — with him had seemed like just what she needed. If that didn’t cure her ridiculous obsession with Rob, nothing would. She hadn’t stopped to consider who else she’d be spending the evening with. Nil points, then, for thinking things through.

  ‘And it’ll take them another five hours tomorrow to drop you back.’ Charlotte shook her head.

  Ella sighed. So it was possible to dislike her more.

  ‘Why waste half a day?’ Charlotte continued. ‘There’s a northerly blowing up, this cloud’ll be gone by dawn. Come on, Carr, just relax, have a drink, stay the night. You know you’re welcome.’

  ‘And Ella’s welcome, too,’ Nick reminded her.

  ‘Of course she is.’ Charlotte smiled at Ella.

  Oh God, she actually looked like she meant it. With an effort, Ella smiled back. She felt even worse. She’d been thinking of Charlotte as a rival, but obviously Charlotte hadn’t thought of her as anything at all. Was it so completely out of the question that Rob might … well, notice her … a little bit, at least? Ella stole a glance at him. Maybe it was. He certainly didn’t seem to be noticing her right now. You knew that, she told herself — this thing you think there is between you, it’s just that, a stupid idea in your head. It doesn’t exist. You don’t exist, so far as he’s concerned. He’s in love with someone else.

  Was it too late to call Lizzie? Damn right it was, Ella answered herself sternly. Just because she was unhappy didn’t mean she had to ruin her mother’s evening — and Richard’s, and Jules’s and Seb’s — by making Lizzie drive all the way here and back. Again. She’d just have to suck it up, that was all.

  The hall door opened. Vito, svelte as a greyhound in a V-necked silk T-shirt, walked in, his hair still wet from the shower. Desperately, Ella willed her heart towards him. Smiling his beautiful dark-eyed smile, he crossed the room to sit beside her.

  ‘You must have your foot up.’ He leaned across and scooped her legs up over his lap. His hand remained draped across them. As he looked at her, Ella felt everyone else in the room disappear. He was beautiful. So beautiful. And sexy. And sweet. And he wanted her. Okay, every other woman within a hundred miles was already taken, but still …

  ‘You’ve shaved,’ she noticed, touching her fingers briefly to his cheek.

  ‘Si, I am smooth.’

  Ella laughed. ‘You are.’

  ‘Drink, Vito?’ asked Nick, a slight edge to his voice.

  ‘Grazie.’

  Recovering herself, Ella glanced around. Rob and Charlotte really had left the room. Hannah was gone, too.

  ‘Well,’ Amy looked at her watch, ‘I’ve got some emails to send.’ She waited a second. ‘Come on, Quentin. You have, too.’

  ‘I’ll just go and see if Hannah and Flavia need a hand,’ said Carr, heading for the kitchen door.

  ‘Good idea.’ Hurriedly putting down the bottle, Nick followed hard on Carr’s heels.

  Ella looked at Vito. He looked back. They smiled.

  ‘Povera.’ Very gently, his hand touched the arch of her bandaged foot, then flowed up her calf to trace a delicate circle on the back of her knee. ‘Such a beautiful leg. It should never be hurt.’ His hand moved higher, stroking up her inner thigh to the hem of her shorts.

  ‘Poor me,’ agreed Ella, watching the muscles in his arm work. She wondered if he had to get his T-shirts specially tailored. Maybe Fratelli Sammartino paid him in shirts …

  ‘I have been thinking all day’ — he leaned forward, his left hand sliding along the back of the sofa to lift her ponytail from her neck — ‘about how to make it better.’

  So far, so good. She reached out to touch his perfect cheekbone, running her fingers over the soft, new-shaven skin.

  ‘Bella.’ One hand caressed the back of her neck. The other, leaving her thigh, clasped her waist, strong fingers spread just below her breast. Ella closed her eyes.

  ‘Oh! God, sorry …’

  Ella turned her head to see Charlotte standing behind them, frozen in the act of throwing open the hall door.

  ‘I just came to see if … well, never mind.’ Stepping back into the h
all, Charlotte closed the door.

  Ella felt herself blushing. Vito, his face just inches from hers, smiled into her eyes. Gently, his lips brushed hers.

  ‘Actually,’ Charlotte opened the door again. ‘Sorry … do you mind? I just need to get through to the kitchen.’

  Vito’s hand dropped to Ella’s hip. He leaned back. ‘You know,’ he said, as Charlotte exited, eyes averted, through the opposite door, ‘I think maybe we should go for a walk.’

  ‘Sure,’ Ella laughed. ‘I’ll just get my crutches.’

  ‘I will carry you,’ he said. ‘Anywhere.’

  ‘Madonna!’ Flavia’s voice carried through from the kitchen. ‘What is wrong with you people? Have you never seen a kiss?’

  ‘Not recently,’ she heard Carr say. Laughter followed.

  ‘Mate,’ — oh no, was that Rob? — ‘you really should get a telly.’

  ‘I will bring them in,’ said Flavia. There were footsteps, then a brisk knock on the door. ‘Vito!’ Flavia called. ‘Ella! Andiamo. Dinner is ready.’

  ‘Come on.’ Vito scooped her up.

  Ella hid her eyes as he swept her into the kitchen. A round of applause went up. Vito deposited her in the chair next to Sandro and took his own seat on her opposite side. Safe between their broad shoulders, Ella risked a glance around the table. Everyone was smiling. As her eyes found Rob, who was busy pouring a bottle of red, he grinned and pushed a glass towards her.

  ‘I’ve got enough helpers in here,’ Hannah said quietly, when dinner was done, as Ella hobbled up to the bench with her plate and Vito picked up a tea towel. ‘Vito, why don’t you take Ella up to the quarters and show her where she’s staying tonight.’

  ‘Take the Prado,’ Flavia added, looking up from the dishwasher. ‘The keys are in it.’

  Despite Ella’s misgivings, the ‘quarters’ she’d glimpsed from the woolshed turned out to be rather sweet close-up — on the outside, at least. The building was long and narrow and low, and did indeed look as though it might, at one point, have skated close to collapse, but the old weatherboards had been given a fresh coat of white paint, and someone had planted a border of lavender against the long verandah. A couple of old sofas sat on the verandah, and a dozen or so red stable doors gave onto its length, each with a little red sash window beside it. She wondered which was hers.

  Pulling up outside, Vito hurried around to open her door. He caught her gently as she slid out. Braced between his hands, Ella slid her fingers up into his silky black hair and forgot about architecture for a while.

  ‘You are cold,’ he murmured, holding her to him more tightly. ‘I should take you inside.’

  Swept off her feet — or rather, foot — once more, Ella leaned her cheek against his neck and ran her hand across his gloriously sculpted chest. This really was the only way to travel.

  The verandah, she thought as Vito carried her onto it, would be a very romantic place on a sunny evening. As it was, with the iron cloud overhead, the promised wind blowing up and the beginnings of a needling rain, she was pleased to find an open door.

  Inside, the tiny room was dim and spartan. But there was a pretty quilt on the single bed, and, as Vito laid her down on it, she felt the softness of a feather duvet.

  ‘Now …’ Settling himself beside her, Vito again stroked his hand up her calf. ‘Let me see if I remember. Before dinner, I think, I was going to do this.’ Slipping his hand beneath her thigh, he raised her knee to his lips and kissed the soft skin inside it.

  ‘Was that what it was?’ Ella looked down at him, admiring the beautiful lashes now tickling her thigh.

  ‘Or perhaps it was this.’ Turning back towards her, he brushed the hair from her cheek, then caught her waist. Ella felt the power in his hand as it slid over her ribs and he kissed her hard, at last, his thumb brushing the underside of her breast as his fingers dug into her shoulder blade and lifted her body towards him.

  ‘I think that was it,’ she gasped, as he drew back.

  Releasing her, he caressed the side of her mouth. Slowly, without taking his eyes off her face, he sat up and stretched his shoulders. Ella watched him rise and take the necessary two steps to the only other piece of furniture in the room, the little table under the window, where a half-used candle sat in an old wine bottle. She heard a match strike. The soft yellow light flickered up, silhouetting his spectacular back against the window. Vito turned. Smiling at Ella, he drew his T-shirt up and over his head.

  Crikey. Ella caught her breath. As he closed the distance between them, she tried to push aside the thought of how many times he must have done that. How the cameras loved it. Oh my, what Amy would have said.

  Ella ran her hand reverentially over his abs as he settled once more beside her. He undid the first button of her shirt.

  ‘You are so beautiful in this light.’

  ‘So are you.’ Oh dear, was she allowed to say that to a bloke?

  Vito laughed. ‘Grazie.’ Bending, he kissed the hollow of her throat, then drew back. ‘You are beautiful in any light. Every light.’ He undid another button.

  Ella was silent, watching him. He was just perfect. Everything he did. Everything he said.

  ‘I just want to look at you.’ His fingers slipped the next button free.

  It was like a film. Ella’s eyes wandered briefly over his shoulder. She half expected to see a camera there.

  ‘What is wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She shook her shoulders briefly. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Tell me.’ Looking worried, Vito touched her cheek. ‘What?’

  ‘It’s just …’ She bit her lip. ‘I keep thinking someone’s going to come in.’ And yell ‘Cut!’

  Vito considered her, his beautiful head to one side. ‘Bella,’ he said gently, ‘there is nobody here.’

  Ella smiled apologetically. God, she was ruining this. ‘I know.’

  ‘But you think’ — he looked down into her eyes — ‘that somebody is going to come in and stop this.’

  Just shut up, she ordered herself. Don’t say a thing. If he’d only kiss her again …

  ‘Maybe that somebody’ — Vito touched his hand to her forehead — ‘he is in here.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Ella,’ he said ruefully, ‘you do not want this.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Not here.’ He traced the naked line of her sternum. ‘Not with your heart.’

  Ella dropped her eyes. What could she say?

  ‘In your heart, you want … something else.’ Vito dropped a kiss on her neck and drew her shirt back together. ‘I have seen it.’

  She blushed. ‘But I can’t have … something else.’

  ‘How can you know if you do not try?’ He lifted her chin. ‘You can have anything. You have only to believe it. Follow your heart.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s such a great idea.’ Every time she followed her heart, it hopped a fast cab to Loser-ville and ditched without paying the fare.

  ‘What other way is there to live?’ His lips touched hers. ‘I am going to leave now, bella. Goodnight.’

  No? Seriously? Ella put her hand on his beautiful arm. ‘Please, don’t go.’

  ‘I would like very much to be the man you want. But I do not want to be your — how do you say it? — consolation prize.’

  She stared up at him, mortified. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I am sorry, too.’ With a rueful smile, he turned away and pulled his T-shirt back on. ‘Do you want me to take you back to the house?’

  God, no: going back was about the only thing she could think of that would be worse than staying here by herself. Not quite trusting her voice, Ella shook her head.

  Vito paused, his hand braced on the door, looking back at her one last time. For a second she thought he might change his mind.

  ‘Ciao, bella. Sleep well.’

  He walked out and closed the door. Ella listened to the Prado drive away.

  When there was no more sound, she got up and drew t
he curtains. Two dried spiders fell out. With a shudder, she blew out the candle, crawled into bed and pulled the sheet up tight. She’d felt lower — but not by much. There was a towel on the end of the bed, but she didn’t have the will to even try to find the bathroom. Sleep well, indeed. She turned her face to the wall and closed her eyes.

  ‘Ella?’

  With a start, she rolled over. The room was light. And someone was banging on her door.

  ‘Ella! Wake up. Time to go.’

  It was Carr. Ella swung her legs out of bed and tried to rub yesterday’s makeup from under her eyes. ‘Coming!’ Finding her crutches, she hobbled over to open the door.

  ‘Come on,’ Carr grinned. ‘Sun’s up — we’re out of here.’

  Twenty minutes later, they’d left Blackpeak Station behind. Ella felt her heart lift as the vineyard came into view. God, it felt like she’d been gone for a year. She sat forward, willing herself home. As Carr flew closer, she could see a red car crawling down the no-exit road towards Lizzie’s drive. Ella checked her watch. Seven-fifteen. A bit early for visitors, surely?

  Someone was up and walking the vineyard, though. Did no one sleep around here?

  ‘Do you want to come in for a coffee?’ she offered, uncertain of protocol, as Carr put down.

  ‘Thanks,’ he laughed, ‘but I’d better keep going.’

  Shading her eyes against the brightening sun, Ella watched him take the chopper back up. As the noise of the rotors faded, she looked around to see her mother, complete with coffee cup, walk out of the vines.

  Ella headed over to meet her. ‘Morning! You’re out and about early.’

  ‘Hello, darling.’

  She took another look at Lizzie’s face. ‘Mum? What’s wrong?’

  Chapter SEVEN

  The morning after the Blackpeak barbecue, Lizzie woke up with the uncomfortable feeling that she’d embarrassed herself in more ways than she could remember the night before. Carr Fergusson descending in the middle of breakfast did nothing to improve her mood. She didn’t like Ella spending so much time with him — more time, in fact, than her daughter was spending with her. Then again, that wasn’t her choice to make, she told herself, as she shooed Ella out of the door and into Fergusson’s helicopter. And on crutches, too … Lizzie shook her head, then, remembering Vito, smiled. He was only there for three more days, and worth a bit of pain.