The Stargazer (19 page)

“But of course, I could be wrong. If you really are interested in stars, I have a machine in my laboratory that makes them look closer. Maybe that would help you see your father.”

Bianca’s mind was dizzy from trying to follow Ian’s twisted reasoning, but the invitation to see his laboratory required no thought at all. She had been itchy with curiosity about it since her first day in the house, but had been too respectful of its sanctity to enter without an invitation. Plus, she had heard stories about unfortunate servingmen who, lost in the sinewy corridors of the house, had accidentally found themselves in Ian’s laboratory confronted by anything from a machine pitching rocks at them to a poisonous snake. One man’s eyebrows had never grown back after a brief encounter with a new type of oil that initially appeared too harmless to wash off but later, when he was lighting the kitchen fire, turned out to be highly flammable.

She nodded her acceptance of his invitation. Still wrapped in the rug, she followed Ian to the big door at the end of the hall. He used a key to open it, a precaution undertaken after the eyebrow incident, and proudly ushered her into the largest room she had ever been in. At least that was the illusion put forward by the mirrors that covered all four walls. Turning around she saw a staggering number of Biancas reflected on every wall from every angle. She was so disoriented that she bumped into the two big workbenches filling the middle of the room. One of them was heaped with books and on the other, there were several strange-looking machines, or rather, one strange-looking machine in several sizes. As Bianca was taking all of this in, wide-eyed, Ian lit and distributed a handful of tapers.

“What do these do?” She pointed at the machines on the worktable.

“Those make things seem bigger than they are. If you put a rock under one of them, for example, you would see not only its surface texture, but almost the particles that make up the texture.”

“That could be immensely useful in my work.” Bianca’s eyes were bright with excitement and Ian was reluctant to dull it.

“These are just prototypes, and not very good ones. It is all still in the experimental stages. In time, though, I hope to develop one that will allow me to see through things and know what is beneath the surface of everything.”

Bianca looked closely at Ian. What would she not give to be able to turn such a machine on him, to see under his surface and probe his secrets.

She was regarding him in the way that made him both delighted and nervous again, so Ian tried to distract her. “But we did not come to talk about those machines. We came to look through this one.” Ian extended his arm and pointed to a large device that looked disappointingly like a tube.

“This is the machine that makes the stars look closer?” Bianca was incredulous as she studied it. “How does it see the stars? There are no windows on any of these walls.”

Ian began pulling on a heavy cord against one wall. At first Bianca noticed nothing, but gradually the light in the room changed. She was puzzled until she looked up and saw that where the ceiling should have been there were now thousands and thousands of stars. Her first thought was that Ian had somehow made the roof disappear, but then she understood what had really happened. The rope Ian had been tugging on controlled a very large cover that had masked the true ceiling, which was made entirely of glass. The effect was marvelous and Bianca could not keep herself from gaping.

They exchanged no words while Ian worked in deep concentration to set up the telescope. He fastened the long tube into an elaborate stand, which held it steady while directing it up toward the sky. Using a pole, Ian pushed open one of the panels of the roof as if it were a window, so that the view through the machine would be clear and uninterrupted by the glass. Then he looked through the eyepiece, jiggled some knobs, twisted some screws, moved a stool into place to give her added height, and beckoned Bianca over.

It took her a moment to understand what she was seeing, but when she did, she cried out in delight.

“This is a magical machine! I can see everything, so close I feel like I could touch it! Did you make it? How does it work?”

She could not see it, but Ian was beaming. “I will explain it to you one day, but not tonight, it would take too long. It works on the same principle as the tube at Isabella’s house.”

Bianca turned her face sharply toward his, and he quickly erased his smile. “What? What at Isabella’s house?”

“The listening tube you sent me there to find. The one she eavesdropped on conversations with.”

“There was one? It was there? And you found it?” Bianca was thrilled to have her hypothesis confirmed, even more thrilled that Ian had taken it seriously despite his professed skepticism.

“Oh, yes, I was there tonight. It was just as you said it would be.”

“Then certainly you must see that I am innocent! And that is why you apologized!”

“I apologized because I had overspoken. The tube does nothing to prove your innocence. If anything, your knowledge of it could be taken as strong proof of your guilt.” Ian’s voice was neutral but he was berating himself for having introduced the subject.

“But I did not know about it. I merely suggested it as a possibility. How was I to know if there was a listening device in the floorboards or behind the vanity?”

“
Ha!
You did know. You just named exactly where it was.”

“By Santa Regina’s knuckles, I just named the obvious places. I am sure they were the first places you looked too. Besides, why would I tell you about it if I were the murderer? Why would I spell out a potential motive to you?”

Ian nodded and expounded his reasoning more as if he were talking to a collaborator than his chief suspect. “I thought of that too, but then I saw a possible reason. You were counting on me to take what you said as a lie, because I almost always do. But this time I was too clever for you.”

“Too clever for yourself actually,” there was no malice in her voice but something more like disappointment, “for that is the most absurd idea I have ever heard. What could have inspired me to do that? Why would I have mentioned it at all? It seems like an awfully large risk to take for no reason.”

“The reason is clear: to force me to broaden my list of suspects. It might have worked if Enzo had not been killed too, but that made it obvi—”

Ian stopped talking because Bianca’s lips were on his. It had been an impulse, and she acted on it, and was delighted by the results. For one thing, it had made him cease his insufferable accusations.

“Can’t we save that for the morning?” she whispered up to him when their lips parted. “I was so enjoying being with you, can’t we forget about all of that until tomorrow?” Seated on the tall stool, her head even with Ian’s, she was looking directly into his eyes.

Ian was not sure when he had lost control of the situation, but it was extremely obvious that he would not need a battery of tests to find out if he was still attracted to her. It felt as if every particle of his body was responding to her unexpected touch. Some part of him said it was unwise to let their conversation be sidetracked that way, but he realized that Bianca had a point, there would be plenty of time the next day for confrontation, and right then it was more important to make love to her. His body happily concurred.

Their heads moved together for another kiss, this one slow, deep, sensual. Bianca was touching his cheek, running her hand through his hair, making soft little designs with her fingers on his neck. For a long time they stayed that way, touching gently and just kissing, but Ian’s growing arousal soon overtook his willpower. He lifted her from the stool and carried her in his arms to the emptier worktable, carefully setting her down atop the rug she had been wearing for warmth. He undid the lacings at the neck of her nightgown and pushed the garment down over her shoulders.

For a moment the sight of her, naked, waiting, excited, in the middle of his laboratory rendered him unable to move. But her impatient fingers working hard on his leggings soon brought him back to himself, and he assisted her by shedding his shirt. She watched in the mirror behind them as her hands moved over his back, fascinated by the view she now had, by being able to touch and see at the same time. She shuddered with a new kind of arousal as she watched Ian take her nipple in his mouth, watched his tongue moving lightly along it. Abruptly, she drew away from him, suddenly self-conscious.

When she spoke, it was in a voice full of self-doubt. “Today, in the library, you said I was perverted. Am I?”

Ian now realized that his apology had been wildly inadequate. “No,
carissima
, you are not. You are simply very open.” The unsure, pained expression that lingered on Bianca’s face was like a dagger to him. How could he have been so nasty earlier that day? he asked himself. What cruel impulse had made him want to throw her wonderful, infectious sensuality in her face? Although he would scarcely admit it consciously, he had been afraid that afternoon, afraid that she really was guilty, afraid he would have to give her up, and he had hurled his fear at her like a weapon, lashing out at her and punishing her for making him feel again. Was there anything he could do to remedy the effect of his words? The prospect of having ruined the most exciting partner he had ever encountered, even if she was possibly some sort of dangerous criminal, was dismal, especially given his increasing arousal. Quick action was needed.

Bianca was confused as he tugged her off the table, seated himself on a stool closer to one of the walls, and positioned her between his legs, facing away from him but toward the mirror.

“I want to give you a gift. I want you to see how beautiful you are when you climax,
carissima
,” he whispered in her ear in a voice that went far toward banishing her doubts.

With one hand he gently teased the nipple of her left breast, while the other slipped lower and lower to the moist curls below her stomach. To begin with he just combed through them with his fingers, untangling them, twisting them, gently letting his palm rest atop them. Then his index finger slid lower, in search of the small pearl of flesh that he knew would bring her pleasure. She watched his finger as it found its place and began gently tracing circles over it. Ian’s other hand came down to join the first, delicately pulling her open so she could watch his long sensual movements as he rubbed first his fingers, then his palm, up the length of her hot, wet lips. He was now rubbing her sensitive place with both hands, pressing and pulling it with all ten fingers in a sensual display that took her breath away. It was obvious that she was getting near to her climax, but Ian was not ready to let her go.

He wanted her to see herself at her most excited, wanted to be sure she knew how indescribably lovely she looked when she peaked on the highest of sensual waves. Keeping his hands in place he slid off the stool and stood behind her for a moment. She was just leaning into his warmth, enjoying the feel of his hard shaft on her backside, when he bent at the knees and appeared to disappear. When she saw him again, he was edging her legs apart, making room for himself between them.

He drew his hands away for a moment as he kneeled in front of her, then used them to open her again. In the mirror Bianca could see only the back of Ian’s fair head, but she could feel his tongue and lips on her. She had thought she was close to climaxing before, but the sensations she now felt were so much more intense, she had to pray for the strength to stand. Looking at herself with a man’s golden head between her legs, licking, sucking, and nibbling her as he slid a finger in and out of her waiting passage, was thrilling. She felt experienced, desired, wanted, beautiful, assured. She watched her hand take Ian’s head and push it harder between her legs, newly confident in her desire. She moaned louder as he slid his fingers in and out of her faster, his tongue continuing its sensual dance over her, around her, across her. Finally, he sucked her in with all his strength, sucked her through his teeth and wrapped his tongue around her, and she climaxed again and again in his mouth.

When she clawed his head with her hands and called his name, completely lost to reason and concern, Ian knew his gift had been accepted. He drew himself up to her and kissed her, his lips still wet with her dew. She pushed herself toward him, wanting to be close to him, wanting to feel his arms around her, to smell the scent of his skin mingled with the scent of her arousal. She looked at them in the mirror, Ian’s chin resting on her head, his muscular arms pulling her toward him, her breasts pressed against his chest, and she never ever wanted the moment to end.

She began to notice Ian’s shaft pushing harder and harder against her thigh and remembered that she was not the only one who deserved to feel wave after wave of shattering pleasure. She caught Ian’s eye in the mirror and let her hand stray to his organ.

His jaw clenched as her fingers caressed him, and he knew he needed to be inside her soon. He wondered if he dared test their new, delicate truce with the fantasy that he had been having. Remembering her willingness and openness and unable to ignore the dictates of his hard member, he pulled away from her slightly, turned her around so her back was to him, and moved her toward the stool.

As if reading his mind, she bent over it, its surface cool and smooth on her stomach, and reached behind her to pull him closer. She watched in the mirror as he moved toward her, his shaft long and hard, and placed himself behind her. His entry felt so delicious that she shuddered, bringing him dangerously near a climax. He bent over her and cupped his hands around her breasts, massaging them as he pushed himself into her, relishing the feeling of her against his thighs, the tightness of her passage, the ripple of her muscles as she pushed herself up to meet him. He let go of her breasts and stood up straight, pressing into her as hard as he could, reveling in the feeling of her eyes on him in the mirror as he brought her hips toward him and ground himself into her.

When Ian reached his climax, he felt her contracting around him, matching her release with his, prolonging it, intensifying it, amplifying it. Their cries of pleasure mingled together, leaving the laboratory through the roof and flying up into the heavens.