“Are you a regular customer here?” she asked him in a whisper, as they were led to the elevators by another man who had black hair, a tidy beard and was dressed in an impeccable black suit.
“Pretty much. Whenever I come to Rome—for business or to visit Mother—I stay here.”
Their suite was on the top floor. When the bellman opened their door, Sonia had to suppress a gasp and barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping with astonishment.
The apartment was fit for any king and his queen. The furniture, carpets, paintings and statuettes seemed to belong in a royal museum. Though everything was much too fussy for her practical, simple taste, she had to admit the place was spectacular.
The anteroom—if that’s what it was called—was as large as their living room at home, having a couple of sofas with a classic design, chairs and ornate tables holding candlesticks and other objects of art. The carpet was enormous, sporting a colorful complicated pattern, and the walls were overly fraught with paintings and flourishes.
“Grazzie, Lorenzo,” Giovanni told the bellman and passed him a generous tip after he’d put their luggage on one of the sofas.
“Mile grazzie, signore Coriola. Signora.” The man inclined his head politely in Sonia’s direction and left, closing the door behind him.
“Holy crap!” she exclaimed and jumped into her lover’s arms, locking her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. He spun her in a circle, grinning.
“Like it, cara?”
“I love it! Though it’s kind of fussy for my taste, I think I can live here for a couple of days.”
“Let me show you the bedroom,” he whispered and gently scraped her ear with his teeth. “I believe you’ll like it even more.”
He carried her into the bedroom, and then put her down so she could look around.
The room was elegant and comfortable, furnished simpler than the anteroom. The bed was enormous, with an ornate iron headboard. Other furnishings included two nightstands, an armoire, a couple of chairs and a vanity that would have made even a princess happy.
“Mmm, it’s fabulous, baby,” she said dreamily and let herself fall onto the bed, testing its softness. She practically sank into the white satin covers smelling of jasmine and something else, more exotic.
When she opened her eyes idly, she saw her own reflection watching her from the ceiling mirror.
“Oh, my!” she marveled over this discovery. “Now this is something new.”
“I want to install a ceiling mirror at home, in our bedroom. What do you think?”
She kept looking in the silver glass and saw Giovanni approaching the bed. He took off her boots, one by one.
“I don’t know… What would be the fun in watching yourself while you fall asleep?”
“Sleep isn’t all we do in bed,” he said in a taunting voice and bent over her, pressing her deeper into the mattress with his hard body.
“When is your mother expecting us?” she whispered against his lips.
“We have plenty of time,” he replied in a low voice, and then kissed her, his tongue stroking hers in a possessive and erotic way that never failed to thrill her.
He combed his hands through her hair, which was fanned on the pillow, trailing kisses on her throat and jaw. She moaned with the pleasure of it, her fingers kneading the strong muscles of his back and shoulders through his shirt. The purely masculine smell of him drove her crazy. She never could get enough of that simple scent of man—her man.
He slowly undid the pearl buttons of her white cashmere sweater, before pulling her up, his eyes locked on hers, dark and intense. He slipped the soft fabric over her shoulders, then lowered her back on the pillows. He unzipped her jeans and dragged them down her legs along with her black lacy panties.
She remained naked, except for the ruby amulet gleaming between her breasts like a red fire-eye. He kissed her breasts tenderly, then with more urgency, drawing them into his mouth. She arched her back, craving more and caught their reflection in the ceiling mirror. It was strangely arousing to see herself lying naked, to watch Giovanni fully dressed, his hands caressing her breasts while his dark head trailed down, hovering above her midriff, using his lips expertly.
When his tongue dipped teasingly into her navel, she saw her own hands clutching the sheets. She closed her eyes unable to focus on anything except the incredible sensations of his strong fingers parting her thighs, his warm breath clouding over her as he kissed the most sensitive part of her body.
A gasp escaped through her lips as her hips curved toward him. She had no shame and no reason, driven only by the primal need for release and the almost unbearable pleasure of what his skilled mouth was doing to her.
It was a few dazed minutes before she realized he’d stopped, leaving her wanting and breathing hard.
“God, why… Why did you stop?” she managed to utter through a dry throat. He didn’t reply and when she pried her eyes open, she saw he was removing his sweater. The image of his bare torso was a breath-stopper. Under his caramel skin, the perfectly sculptured muscles of his chest and abdomen moved sinuously, as he unzipped his jeans and lowered them on his hips.
The sight of his rigid, perfectly proportioned erection made her mouth water. She couldn’t remember wanting anything as badly as she wanted him that very moment.
She reached out for him, but he trapped her hands in one of his, keeping them high above her head, buried in the satin sheets. When she made a sound of protest and tried to shift under his weight, he kissed her ravenously while he continued running his other hand all over her, his clever fingers knowing exactly how and where to touch her.
She closed her eyes, giving way to the indescribable wave of heat and need. She pushed against him, whispering urgently, “I want you… Now!”
Still, he didn’t let go of her hands. His breath came as fast as hers against her lips, and she could feel his smoldering desire when his hard sex touched hers. She was hot and wet, desperately yearning for him. She opened her legs wider, quivering as he did when he slipped into her just a bare inch. She wanted more; she wanted him to fill her, hard and fast. His self-control was maddening and frustrating as he rocked slowly, barely teasing her, though his shallow breaths told her he wanted just as badly to be deep inside her.
His mouth trailed down, kissing her neck and the lobe of her ear. Through glazed eyes she could see their reflection in the mirror above, Giovanni on top of her, his muscled bare back tense and just a glimpse of his sexy ass in the well-lit room.
“Enjoying the view, cara?” His lips stretched in a wicked smile, and he traced her lower lip with his tongue.
Before she could answer, he withdrew. Taking his sex into his hand, he began stroking her damp center with the velvety tip, in circular motions. Her head was spinning, all of her muscles contracted with the intoxicating pleasure. The nails of her trapped hand sank into her captor’s skin, but she couldn’t help it. She rocked her hips and arched them toward him, consumed by the purely elemental desire to be taken, to be dominated by him.
“Oh, God! Please, Giovanni.” She bit his lower lip hard before he finally pushed himself fully into her, making her cry out in the ecstasy of fulfillment. She only needed a few deep powerful thrusts to bring her to a mind-blowing orgasm. Her body trembled violently with the supreme pleasure of her release. She felt him climax at the same time, burying himself deep inside her as his body quivered in rapture.
They were both breathing hard when he lowered himself on her, supporting his weight on shaky elbows and his forehead on her shoulder. The aftershocks of their lovemaking still jolted through both of them for a long time. Dizzy with satisfaction and repletion, her every muscle limp, she barely had the energy to utter a breathless, “God! That was…the best sample of eye-crossing sex.”
His chest rumbled with laughter.
“It’s always like that with you, Sonia,” he said through shallow breaths and turned his face to lay a soft kiss on her neck.
S
he wrapped her arms around him, squeezing tightly. She was overwhelmed with love for him, with the happiness he’d brought into her life. The fact that a man like Giovanni loved her, that he gave his best for her was a continuous source of wonder and joy. Never in her most romantic and optimistic fantasies had she dreamed a man like that even existed. And now he was here in her arms, replete and satisfied. She was sure of his love and devotion to her, as she was sure she would die for him without a qualm.
As though sensing her drift into that land of emotions so powerful they could move mountains and melt hearts, he lifted his head and looked at her. His eyes were dark and deep, transmitting to her only by visual contact all she needed to know, even before he said it, in his rich, husky voice.
“I love you.”
She stroked his cheek, enjoying the texture of his skin, now damp with sweat.
“I know.”
He kissed her lips tenderly, the hint of a smile lighting his handsome face. He sighed deeply and started to detach himself from her.
“I guess we should shower and go see Mother,” he said. “I’m hungry. I hope she’ll invite us to a late lunch.”
“You go first. I’m just going to lie here for a week.”
“You can have fifteen minutes, cara. Do you want us to find Mom pissed off because we were late?” he asked slyly as he headed to the bathroom, grinning widely when he saw her circumspect expression.
“Okay, okay,” she muttered to the bathroom door, then stretched voluptuously, giving herself a moment of delighting in sweet and absolute satisfaction.
She wrapped the sheet around her and went to get their bags. Since they were only going to stay for a couple of days, they had only taken a change of clothes each, underwear, some toiletries and other strictly necessary paraphernalia. As Giovanni had pointed out, they were going to shop anyway and return with a lot more bags.
She put their clothes on the shelves of the elegant-looking armoire, the toiletries and cosmetics on the vanity. Giovanni had refused to leave his laptop behind, so she put it next to his nightstand. The man was addicted to computers, she thought. But since that was what he knew how to do best—except for sex, of course—and it brought him lots of money, she couldn’t complain.
She was just heading to the bathroom when the door opened and he emerged, buck naked, drying his hair with a towel. She couldn’t believe the sight of his magnificent body could still squeeze an ounce of desire from her after the time he’d just given her. She was wrong. Lust was already gathering in her stomach and heading south at full speed.
“Giovanni, do you think I’m a nymphomaniac?” she asked seriously.
He looked stunned before he burst out laughing.
“What makes you ask that, cara?” he said, moving toward her, sliding his arms around her waist and brushing his lips over hers.
“Um, I was just wondering,” she said, trying to sound casual. “I’ve never in my life felt so…wanton.”
He smiled against her lips, and then whispered into her ear.
“Well, if you’re a nymphomaniac, so am I.”
She looked down at the obvious evidence of this statement and swallowed hard.
“Down, boy.”
“Too late.”
“Okay. This is way too tempting, so I’m just going to take a shower now. A cold one.”
She wiggled out of his embrace and dove for the bathroom.
“Don’t you wanna . . .” he asked insinuatingly.
“Oh, I wanna. I want it so bad I’d have to restrain myself with handcuffs.”
“Interesting suggestion.”
“But the thought of your mother is enough to cool me down. At least for a while.”
She winked at him and closed the bathroom door in his face.
She was shocked to discover the bathroom was almost a replica of their own bathroom at home, except for the fact it was done in black and white. So now she knew where Giovanni had gotten inspiration for that as well. She wondered vaguely if other women had accompanied him in this suite or other similar ones. Stupid! Of course they had. Lots of them.
It didn’t matter, she told herself, trying to ignore the twinge of pain in her heart. He was hers now. He loved her, she was sure of it. And she would keep him, no matter what. She wasn’t a wimpy female consumed by jealousy, who spent her time dwelling on her man’s past, in detriment of living the future.
In this positive and determined mindset, she smiled at herself in the mirror. The ruby amulet still laid between her breasts. She slipped the chain over her head, then weighed the round pendant in her palm. Just now she noticed the silver pattern surrounding the ruby formed a pentagram, if you looked at it from a certain distance. Odd, she mused. The whole story of this amulet was bizarre. Giovanni and she would have to take the time to dig deeper and find out more about it. For all they knew the piece was a fake, though she didn’t think so.
Reminding herself she hadn’t time to think about it just now, she put it on a shelf and got into the shower. She washed quickly and efficiently, then toweled off and set on drying her hair.
The hairdryer provided by the hotel seemed to operate like a mini-computer, and to top it all off, the instructions were—of course—in Italian. After pushing a few random buttons without anything happening, she furiously shouted for Giovanni.
He appeared in the doorway, dressed in a fresh pair of black jeans and a black shirt open at the neck—the perfect balance between casual and elegant.
“What is it, baby?”
“I can’t make this blasted thing work,” she told him frustrated, handing him the dryer.
He took it from her hand and looked at it, then at her, tongue in cheek.
“You just have to press the power button, darling. See? It says here, acceso.”
She gave him a murderous glance.
“And how the fuck am I supposed to know what acceso means? Never mind.” She shook her head and turned on the hairdryer. “All gadgets hate me, it’s not just this one. They’ve all had a coalition against me ever since that time I kicked that socket out of the wall.”
“You socked a socket?” he asked, amused and incredulous.
“I was really sorry about it,” she said defensively, ruffling her hair to better expose it to the hot air. “But it was half out of the wall anyway. I tried to push it back with my foot, but it broke.”
“By itself.”
“That’s right. Well, maybe I helped a bit. In any case, that’s irrelevant. But ever since that day, all gadgets and electronics hate me.”
He laughed indulgently, patting her bare butt.
“I’ll see to it you don’t have much contact with them. Thank God you told me,” he said and laughed again when she looked down her nose at him, narrowing her eyes. “Hurry a bit, will you? It’s almost two o’clock. I’ll call Mom to say we’ll be there in half an hour.”
Chapter Thirteen
Giovanna’s and Fabrizzio Angeli’s residence—such grandeur couldn’t be simply called a house—resembled a palace of opulence and class. When the BMW approached, the tall gates made from artistically carved wood slid open gracefully.
“Motion sensors,” Giovanni explained as they advanced on the long driveway bordered by extensive gardens.
Though now they were bared by winter, the trees and shrubs tastefully arranged still looked impressive. Sonia imagined that in summertime the place was splendid. Giovanni had told her his mother was very fond of plants, and she could see her passion for flowers had been indulged in style.
The building itself was magnificent, made from gray brick, with ornate windowsills and all the flourishes specific to old Renaissance. Two statues stood guard on each side of the massive wooden door. The ferocious gray marble lions managed to look grand rather than ostentatious, making the elegance of the place even more aloof.
“Only my mom could make this mausoleum of a house look stylish,” Giovanni told her, reading her thoughts. He parked the car on one side of the driveway and stretch
ed across Sonia’s seat to open her door.
She got out of the car and straightened her clothes. She’d decided on wearing black, as her fiancé did. She’d accessorized her dark slacks and shirt with a red belt and the ruby amulet.
Looking up at the opaque windows, she felt intimidated by the house and by the woman she hadn’t even met. The place resembled something of an old haunted castle. She couldn’t imagine the vital, beautiful woman Giovanni had described living as mistress of this house.
“Do they live here alone, just the two of them?” she asked, encompassing with a gesture all the space surrounding them. It seemed a waste for two people to occupy a property the size of a small city.
“Yeah. What can I say? Mother likes luxury and having lots of space. Fabrizzio is as extravagant as she. He fulfills her every wish. Let’s go inside,” he urged, taking her arm and heading toward the front door. It even had a sculptured brass knocker.
“I expect Lurch to come open the door any minute,” Sonia whispered nervously and he gave her an amused look.
The door was opened by the legend herself. Giovanna Angeli was by far the most beautiful woman Sonia had ever seen, looking nowhere near fifty-one. Considering the stunning good looks of Giovanni and his sister, she shouldn’t have been surprised, but she barely had the presence of mind not to let her jaw drop at the sight of her future mother-in-law.
She was almost as tall as her son, her slender hourglass-shaped body outlined in a long, peach-colored dress that perfectly complimented her flawless olive skin. She had gorgeous eyes, very dark—just like Giovanni’s—emphasized by subtle makeup and a pair of black, graceful eyebrows. Her lips were full and beautifully defined with coral lipstick and she displayed pearly-white teeth when she smiled in greeting, stretching out an elegant hand.
“Sonia, I’m so glad to meet you, my dear,” she said in melodious English. Benvenuto nella mia casa!”
Falling for Italy Page 15