“It’s much more straight forward if I just keep my distance from people, because then I can’t betray him, and our memories and marriage. I’m not good at this; I don’t know what the middle ground is. But now you’re leaving and I don’t want you to go without understanding that there’s a reason I’m the way I am, and that I’m…sorry.”
“Don’t, you don’t need to apologise,” he said quietly, pressing his finger to her chin and tilting her face towards his.
They stared at each other, the world ceasing to spin, the birds no longer singing, everything pausing as comprehension passed between them.
“There’s something about you that’s got under my skin, too, Lauren. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since that night at the pool. I don’t date women. I don’t get to know them. I’m never in the same place long enough, and I like my freedom.” There was something in his voice that made her wonder if there was more to it, if he was holding something back. “But do you know what?”
“What?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“I do know what the middle ground is for us. Do you want to hear?”
She nodded slowly, hope lifting in her chest.
“What if we agree that we’ll have a bit of fun together?”
“Fun?” She repeated the word dubiously, as though it were a thoroughly suspicious concept.
His laugh was gruff, pulling at her belly, making her press closer to him.
“What exactly does ‘fun’ entail?”
“We hang out. Spend time together. We sleep together – in a bed – not on top of the piano, as amazing as that was. We keep it casual and light – fun, no strings, no complications – and then we end it. As two friends, easily saying goodbye and moving on with our lives.”
He made it sound so easy. Could they really do that?
And what about Thom?
She fluttered her eyes closed on a soft groan. “I don’t know.” She was torn completely, between her heart and her body. Desire was propelling her to agree – it was the perfect suggestion – but memories and loyalty held her back, uncertain.
“What are you doing for the next few hours?”
She blinked, not sure his question made sense.
“I was just on my way home to grab some stuff I need to have here. Why don’t you come for the ride?”
She lifted her eyes to his. “You’re not leaving?”
“I’m leaving right now,” he clarified, “but with the intention of coming back tonight. We’ve agreed I’ll spend the next few weeks at Villa Fortune, to keep an eye on Yaya’s progress.”
Lauren’s heart skidded in her ribs.
“So you see, I’ll be right here,” he walked his fingers from her wrist, up her arm to the crook of her elbow, higher still to the satin flesh of her shoulder. “And you’ll be right here.” He dropped his head, kissing her lips gently. “And it would be the easiest thing in the world to be beneath one another’s skin, for a few weeks. That’s all.”
Again she was hit with the simplicity of what he was suggesting. He made it sound like the most sensible plan. But would she regret it?
“How do you know that will work?”
“You think I won’t be able to resist falling in love with you?” He teased gently.
She bit down on her lip, not sure how to respond. It was complicated.
“I decided a very long time ago that I don’t want to do the whole couple thing. I’m not a ‘family’ kind of man. I don’t want to date, I don’t want to marry, I don’t want to have children.” He shuddered, to underscore his point. “I’m a loner, and I always will be. Even you won’t change that about me,” his tone was, again, lightly teasing.
“Why? What makes you like that?”
Raf though, didn’t answer. “I’m not looking to replace him,” he said instead, the words quiet. “And I’m probably even less likely to want a relationship than you, so you can be perfectly assured this won’t go any further than fun.”
“Fun,” she repeated, lost for the ability to form any more erudite response.
“Lots of fun,” he winked.
“The thing is,” she said, “I honestly don’t know if I remember how to have fun.”
“Sounds to me like you need a teacher then.” And before she could respond he wrapped his hands around her waist, lifting her over his shoulder and carrying her towards the helicopter. It was only when he placed her on the passenger seat that she realised she was laughing.
Chapter Six
HE’D MADE THE TRIP so many times it was one he was able to complete with muscle memory alone. Just as well given the distraction that was Lauren Monroe in the seat beside him. Not just Lauren but the baggage that came with her, the past she’d just shared with him, the key that unlocked a door to total comprehension. She’d been pushing him away because she was still in love with some other guy. Her late husband.
And even though they’d done nothing wrong, he felt it too – a sense of guilt at having made love to a woman who was clearly still hung up on another guy. He would never ordinarily ‘have an affair’. But this wasn’t that. She was a widow. Her husband had died, and long enough ago that there were several lines in the sand separating what they’d done to what Lauren and her husband had.
There was no need for guilt – from either of them. What he needed was to convince her of that. And night by sensual night he intended to.
She needed to see that she could enjoy a healthy sex life without seeing it as a betrayal to her husband. Lauren was too sensual, too tactile, to deny herself the comfort and pleasure of sex. What she needed was to get over her hang-ups and realise that she could pursue a sexual relationship without feeling as though it were some dramatic betrayal.
Yeah, this is pure altruism, he thought wryly, aware that his body was already getting hard at the prospect of getting her alone at his place. He brought the helicopter lower over Pisa, his home only a few minutes from the ancient township.
“This is all so beautiful,” she said, and the Lauren who’d been forcibly shutting him out was nowhere to be seen, in that moment. She stared out of the cockpit glass with an expression of wonderment, marvelling at the patches of green beneath, each a different shade, that gave way to a dotted maze of terracotta buildings, yellow and rust.
His home came into view, large and sprawling, just a few hundred metres from the ocean. He brought the helicopter down onto the helipad, only half of his concentration on landing, the rest of him focussed on Lauren and her reactions. He was attuned to every shift of her body, every movement of her expression.
“This is your place?” She gestured to his villa, her eyes saucer-like. He regarded the property from her perspective and yes, he could see that it was quite impressive, in ways he’d never really contemplated. Two tennis courts, a small golf course, a swimming pool shaped like a lagoon. The house itself was modern, built after an earthquake destroyed the original villa decades earlier.
“When I’m in Italy.”
“So you don’t even live here full time?” She shook her head, a smile on her lips.
He flicked the blades off then reached across to remove her headset. “I’m here probably half the year.”
“Where are you the rest of the time?”
He couldn’t help but feel the floodgates had been opened. Gone was the reserved ice-queen he’d been driven crazy by at Villa Fortune. Perhaps having clear parameters of their situation had been what she needed – a ticket to relax because he’d promised her this would tick all her boxes. Easy, fun, casual and definitely no strings.
“All over,” he grinned, pushing open his door. “Wait there.” He came around to her side of the helicopter and opened the door, reaching up and undoing her seatbelt, his hands lingering against the flatness of her stomach, his eyes laced with promise as they held hers. He put his hand out and she took it, her fingers lacing with his as she stepped out of the chopper.
“What does ‘all over’ mean?”
“I like
to travel,” he said, guiding her towards the house. Her eyes weren’t remotely still. She studied everything as they passed.
“Why?”
He frowned at that question. It was strange – did it even require an explanation? “I like to travel to do challenges,” he elaborated.
“Like hiking.”
“Right. Free climbing. Base jumping. Surfing. Skiing.”
She stopped walking, her eyes roaming his face. “You’re a dare devil.”
He laughed, inordinately pleased by that description. “I guess I must be.”
“I’m serious. None of that sounds particularly safe.”
“Safe is boring.”
She shuddered and turned away and for the briefest second he felt the same sense of reserve with which he was familiar. Only for a second. As they walked up the steps to the wide door of the villa she let out a noise of enchantment. “Perfect,” she said on a sigh. “Look at this.”
He was looking, and it was perfect, but he wasn’t noticing the door. That he’d seen a thousand times before, the original from the villa had been salvaged, an ornate carved timber, it was imposing and beautiful at the same time. He pressed his thumb to the keypad and the door sprung open.
“Fancy,” she grinned.
“Naturally.” He waved his hand. “After you.”
She stepped into the foyer, removing her shoes. He was about to tell her not to bother but the part of his anatomy that was doing most of the thinking figured it was just one less thing to remove later. Besides, there was something about her bare feet that was beautiful and seductive. Feet? What the hell had come over him?
“Would you like a tour?”
When she looked at him her cheeks were ever so slightly flushed. “I – no.”
He lifted a single brow, though he was pretty sure he took her meaning.
“You have to get back to Villa Fortune?” He prompted, knowing it made him a bit of a bastard, but he wanted her to spell it out for him. He wouldn’t have said until that moment that he had a needy bone in his body but apparently he wanted some kind of reassurance that she really was into him.
“At some point,” she agreed slowly, but there was a hint of uncertainty in the words and then he really did feel like a bastard. He closed the distance between them, giving up on his game of making her admit she wanted him. They both knew the score – there was no sense pretending.
“Then how about we have a very localised tour,” he suggested, his hands unbuttoning her jeans.
“Just your bedroom?” She prompted.
He grinned. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
Her head was spinning. Her body was jelly. Her insides were mush. Her heart was racing. Everything simultaneously ached and felt better than ever. She pushed up onto her elbow, bracing her cheek in the palm of her hand as she looked down at Raf’s face. Lying on his back, his cheeks stained a dark purple after the exertion of an afternoon’s incredible sex, she stared at him and felt a thousand and one things. Pleasure. Happiness. Relief. And yes, guilt, and remorse, but they were small parts of her – perhaps parts she’d always feel and have to juggle in her day-to-day life. Maybe she’d never find a way to balance those feelings. Perhaps that’s why she’d chosen a path of solitude, knowing that the best thing for her bruised, battered heart, was to shelter it for the rest of her life.
“I definitely like your house,” she heard herself quip, pressing her fingertips to his broad, muscled chest.
He turned to face her, his grin pure sensual heat. “You’ve only seen the bedroom.”
“That’s all I need to see.” She winked, dropping back against the pillows as he slid an arm beneath her, pulling her to his side.
“So you’re really just going to use me for sex, huh?” He teased.
“That’s our deal right? You’re sort of my gigolo.”
He burst out laughing. “Don’t I have to be considerably younger?”
She pouted. “Well, true, but you’re handsome and rich, so…”
He shook his head. “I think you’d be my gigolo, or whatever the girl equivalent is.”
“Nope, I’m too prickly for that.”
“Prickly?” He repeated, smiling.
“Yes. Like Gabe.”
“Oh, really?” He pulled a face. “Now I’m thinking of my brother, and that’s definitely not ideal.”
“Aw, sorry.” She battered her eyelashes to show she was anything but. “He reminds me of myself.”
“Is it the tattoos?”
She grinned. “Do I have tattoos?”
“I’m not sure, maybe I’ll have to complete a more thorough inspection,” he promised sensually. Her body charged with a new burst of desire, despite the fact she’d felt, only moments earlier, more satiated than she’d known it was possible to feel.
“You’re welcome to.” Her voice was a breathy whisper.
“Why do you think you’re like Gabe?”
She considered that. “He just seems…to feel a lot of things.”
“And to keep them bottled up,” Raf agreed, moving so that his body was over hers, his arms forming a cage around her.
“I guess so.” She lifted a hand to his cheek, running a finger across the ridge there. “Not that I would expect him to open up to me. I guess I got pretty good at reading people with this job – I had to – it’s not a time in people’s lives where they’re prone to be communicative or expansive. I just feel, with Gabe, that there’s something deeply troubling to him and yet he keeps so much of that to himself.”
“You’re very perceptive.”
Lauren scrunched up her nose. “Not really. I mean, he’s quite grumpy.”
Raf smiled, but his eyes were distracted. “Yeah. He’s – had some shit go down.”
Lauren nodded sympathetically. “You don’t have to tell me. I wasn’t meaning to pry.”
“It’s fine. I mean, it’s in the papers, you could google him and see for yourself.”
“I would never do that.”
His eyes narrowed with something that looked a lot like respect. “No,” he smiled at her. “I don’t think you would.”
He was quiet then, so she thought he’d moved on, but after a moment, he began to speak, his voice low and husky. “We were in a car accident a few years ago. He was driving. It was pretty bad.”
Lauren had seen enough of life’s twists and turns and the grief that could always be lurking not to be surprised. “I’m sorry to hear it.”
“I broke a leg. He walked away unscathed.”
“And he feels bad for hurting you?” She probed gently.
“God, no. I was fine. A broken leg heals, you know.” He paused a moment, his eyes roaming her face inquisitively. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he continued, “His girlfriend was in the car, and her little girl – not his, a daughter from a previous relationship. She was only one.”
“Oh, God.” Lauren dealt with death all the time, but when children died, it cut her to pieces in a way that was permanent and awful. She braced for what was coming.
“His girlfriend died.”
“And the baby?”
“She had broken ribs, but miraculously, survived. She’s growing up without a mother though, and Gabe’s never forgiven himself for that. He wasn’t the most cheery guy even before the car accident but that was too much. He pretty much hates life now.”
Lauren’s heart squeezed for him. “What happened? To cause the accident?”
“Was it his fault, you mean?”
“No – I wasn’t – I mean, I wasn’t apportioning blame, at all. Accidents happen to everyone. I was just asking because I suppose it would be even harder for him to make peace with it if he had been drinking, or speeding, or similar.”
“Gianfelice – our grandfather, Yaya’s husband –,”
“Believe me, I have heard a lot about Gianfelice,” she interrupted, a wry smile flicking her lips upwards.
“Of course. Yaya’s favourite subject.”
“Ap
art from her boys,” Lauren corrected honestly.
“Right, apart from us.” He lifted his eyes heavenwards but Lauren understood the truth – and the pleasure at knowing how adored he was.
“Gianfelice drilled it into us to never drink and drive. He was very strict and we paid attention. Gabe wasn’t at fault. It was a week before Christmas, the roads were icy and unfortunately, other drivers didn’t have the same forbearance as him. A motorbike came towards the car. Gabe had only a second to react. He shifted the car but caught a drift of ice and spun out. We hit a tree; that was it.”
“What a terrible accident.”
“The one part in which he does blame himself is that she wasn’t meant to be with him. Gabe had surprised her, promising her a huge Christmas tree at his chateau. That’s where we were headed. It was Avery’s first ‘real’ Christmas, she was only a few months old the year before, so he wanted it to be special.”
Lauren’s heart twisted for the sadness of that. “I think that losing someone you love is an impossible grief to live with. Knowing you had any hand in their death, even such an innocent one as wanting to be together, would be very difficult to recover from. I truly am very sorry for Gabe.”
“Yes,” Raf sighed. “We all are. He’s a sulky bastard but we love him and accept that this is his life now. He walks around like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders because he does.”
“What happened to the little girl?”
“She went to live with her dad.”
“So Gabe never sees her?”
Raf frowned. “Not that I know of. But last Christmas he had a few scotches and let slip that he set up a trust fund in her name and pays for her schooling. He’ll never forgive himself for what he took from her.”
“He didn’t take it.”
“I know that and you know that but Gabe sees things as black and white and in this matter his mind cannot be changed.”
She nodded, shivering out of nowhere. Guilt was a terrible thing.
“Being in the accident…” she murmured, her eyes probing his, “Must have been hard for you, too?”
He lifted his shoulders a little, but the look was practiced. It didn’t ring true. “I got off light.”
Nothing Lasts Forever (The Montebellos Book 4) Page 7