Giovanni bent to scratch his head briefly, then signaled Paolo to go outside with him—no doubt to hand him the things in the trunk and ask him to discard them as he deemed fit.
She rested her cheek against the dog’s nape, letting out her breath in a gust.
“Is there something wrong, signorina?” Lucia asked worriedly as she wiped her hands on her apron.
“Oh, Lucia… We’ve been robbed.”
The housekeeper covered her mouth with her hands in shock, exclaiming in Italian, “Dio mio! How did this happen? When?”
“Last night. Someone broke into our suite at the hotel. A man stole some of our jewelry and Giovanni’s laptop. They caught him on the cameras, but they think he was probably wearing a disguise.”
Lucia shook her head sadly, her eyes full of kindness, and lines of concern wrinkled her forehead.
“This is so awful, signorina! Crime is everywhere, but it never seems so real until something bad happens to someone we know. Were the things so very expensive? What is the polizia doing about this?”
“No, not really expensive,” Sonia replied and stood, walking to the kitchen, followed by the older woman. “It’s not about the money, it’s just the fact that our intimacy, our privacy was violated. It gives me the creeps. The police are investigating, but the commissario admitted there is quite a thin chance to catch and identify the man. Would you make me a cup of very hot cocoa, please?”
“Yes, of course. Sit down. Where is signore Giovanni? Would he want some?”
“Yes, make a cup for him too. I suppose he asked Paolo to get rid of the rest of our things. We cannot keep them after knowing that some man pawed through them. The room was a mess when we found it.”
The other woman nodded sympathetically as she went about her business of preparing two mugs of cocoa and placing some cookies on a plate.
“I understand. How could they have passed the security at that fancy hotel? Criminals are getting cleverer each day,” she continued gloomily, shaking her head again in a discouraged gesture. “We will live to see the day people will be afraid to walk on a street.”
Sonia agreed silently, folding her hands around the hot mug when Lucia placed it in front of her. Just then, Giovanni entered. He took off his jacket and placed it on a chair, then sat next to Sonia.
“Grazzie, Lucia,” he told the housekeeper when she served him his cocoa and cookies. “Paolo will be here in a moment. I had him carry the bags to your car. I know you can give them to a church or something. I assume Sonia told you what happened.”
“Yes, signore, it is awful! I hope the polizia will catch this man and let him rot in prison!”
“That makes three of us. Join us, please.” He gestured to the cocoa, inviting her to sit.
“Grazzie, but we have to get going if you don’t need anything else. There is a lot of food in the fridge and I bought fresh groceries this morning,” she informed him, untying her apron.
“Then go home and rest. Oh, Paolo, I was just telling your lovely wife that you can go now,” he said when Paolo entered the kitchen, remaining on the threshold. “We have a little Christmas gift for you two,” he added and got to his feet, digging into his pocket, from which he extracted an envelope and handed it to Paolo.
Sonia knew it contained a generous sum of money. Paolo blushed to the roots of his hair, protesting in Italian, but Giovanni stuck the white envelope into the other man’s shirt pocket.
“Please, do not refuse us. You don’t want to offend my fiancée, do you?” he told the couple in a firm voice, and Lucia thanked him graciously.
“You’re welcome. Have a great Christmas, and don’t come back to work until we call you. Enjoy the holidays and rest. Buon Natale!” he wished them, smiling, and shook Paolo’s hand before kissing Lucia’s.
“Buon Natale, signore, signorina Sonia,” they murmured in unison, flustered and pleased. “Welcome back home.”
As they turned to go, Sonia remembered something and shot out of her chair.
“Lucia, wait!”
When everyone turned to look at her, she winced and asked, “Um…I wanted to ask you to look carefully through the things in those bags we brought. I’m not sure it would be a good idea to take skimpy negligees to church, for charity purposes,” she continued grimacing, making Giovanni laugh out loud and nearly spill his cocoa. Judging by his expression, Paolo hadn’t gotten the gist of what she’d said, but Lucia flushed, fighting to hide a smile.
“Thank God you told me, signorina! Otherwise we would have been expelled from the church community and put on the list for exorcising. I will take care of it, don’t worry.”
Sonia pressed her lips inwardly, then gave up and burst out laughing.
“Thanks a lot, Lucia. I owe you. Merry Christmas to you both!”
After the old couple took their leave, Sonia placed her empty mug in the sink. She opened the fridge door, which made Guccio whimper with hope and excitement, while Giovanni gave him a pat on his hairy butt. She treated the dog with two slices of ham, and then studied the offerings.
“Looks like Lucia cooked for a small army,” she said to Giovanni, who was just stretching his arms high above his head, crackling his fingers noisily. “Some kind of soup, rice and chicken, sandwiches, fresh salad ingredients and even a pie; strawberry, I think.”
She closed the door and glided toward him, sliding onto his lap, wrapping her hands around his neck. He cupped her hips in his hands, and then gently rubbed her back.
“What do you say we go take a really, really hot bath?” she began, kissing his neck softly, and went on with her suggestions, whispering in his ear her plans for the night, as her breath made his skin ripple into goose bumps.
He lifted his mouth to hers, pulling her closer, and his tongue slid over hers in seductive invitation.
“I say that’s a wonderful idea, cara,” he replied, cupping her breasts through her sweater. “But first we have to eat something. We’re going to need a lot of energy to do all that’s on your agenda. How about that soup?”
She pouted just for a quick second, but since her stomach was growling as well, she got up and proceeded to set the table.
The soup was delicious and so was the chicken with rice. Sonia was too full to be able to sample the pie, but Giovanni asked for a slice.
“My, my, you do have the appetite of a working man,” she remarked. “Do you mind if I let you finish alone and go upstairs? I need to change.”
“Go right ahead, cara. I’ll be over in a minute,” he said between bites and patted her butt affectionately as she headed to the door, a lazy Guccio dragging along after her.
She climbed the steps as though they were a miniature Everest. When she got into the freshly aired bedroom, she plopped face down on the bed, noting vaguely that Lucia had put on fresh sheets. Guccio climbed over her, playfully pushing his face into hers, but she planted her palm over his nose and shoved gently.
“Not now, pal, I’m beat. Go play with your ball or something,” she told the dog, her drowsy voice muffled into the pillow.
She must have dozed off for a few minutes, because the next thing she was aware of was Giovanni taking off her boots and socks. She tried to lift her head and flip over, but he held her in place, whispering, “Don’t move, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
He reached under her to unfasten her slacks and the feel of his hands moving over that particular area started to make the wheels of her brain creak back into motion.
“I don’t seem to be so sleepy anymore,” she murmured, rubbing against his hand, lifting her hips so he could slide her pants and panties down her legs.
“Sure you are. You have to get some rest. You’ve only slept a few hours last night.”
He climbed onto the bed, straddling her to drag her sweater over her head. She stretched her arms helpfully, still on her belly, and arched her bare butt toward him.
She smiled lazily, her face hidden in the pillow.
“You don’t seem to be so tired
yourself,” she observed when she felt the hardness behind his jeans’ zipper. She probed upward using her hips and he groaned, lowering himself over her, his chest pressing down her bare back.
“I’m far from tired now, amore,” he whispered directly into her ear, then flicked his tongue over the back of her neck.
The touch of his mouth, along with the sensation of being trapped under him, was incredible, making every sensitive hair on her skin ripple. He ran his hands down her naked body, sliding them under her to caress her breasts, as she arched up, overcome by the elemental need to be possessed and dominated by her man.
When his fingers snuck between her thighs, she moaned, liquid pleasure erupting from her body. She tried to flip over, desperate to have him naked and inside her, but he only pinned her arms down, saying gruffly, “No. I’m not done with you.”
His mouth and tongue glided lower over her back, kissing her shoulders, each of her shoulder blades, swirling down the small of her back, then meandering on her sides to tease her ribcage while she squirmed under him, flooded by pure, primal lust.
She was ready to implode when he finally allowed her to turn over and face him. She reached for him with her hands and captured his waist between her legs in a quick motion, reversing their positions to straddle him. Her breath came fast and shallow, as did his when she nearly ripped off his sweater, trying to get it out of the way.
Feasting on his skin, she attacked his powerful torso. His head fell back, sinking into the pillow, and he grasped her hips, pressing her down onto his lap. She kissed his jawline and throat, his pectorals, tasted his nipples, trailing kisses down his body, drunk on the power she had over him.
He was breathing hard when she unzipped his jeans and pulled them down, leaving him gloriously naked—rigid as steel and throbbing with desire for her.
She bent her mouth to him and he buried his hands in her hair, mixing Italian and English in unintelligible phrases that reverberated off the walls. She worked him relentlessly using only her mouth, until she knew he could bare it no longer. He tangled one hand into her hair, drawing her up to him. He kissed her hungrily, sending his tongue deep inside her mouth, just a brief second before he pushed into her, catching her sharp cry of pleasure into his own chest.
They began moving in a perfect rhythm, increasingly harder and faster, driven by love, lust, and need such as she’d never experienced. A tornado of mind-blowing pleasure was building between and inside them. When she climaxed, it was like something blissful had exploded inside her, and a bright rainbow bloomed slowly into her entire being, leaving her floating in absolute satisfaction.
She collapsed onto his chest, spent, her heart drumming in her ears, her body radiating heat and shaking with delicious aftershocks. Giovanni stroked her back gently, giving her a much-needed moment to recover.
When her senses stirred again, she felt he was still hard and full inside her. Incredulous, she managed to lift her head and stare at him in astonishment.
“Why are you still— Haven’t you…”
He smiled wickedly, caressing her ass.
“No, I haven’t. I’m not done with you.”
So saying, he lifted her off him and pushed her down on the bed again, lowering his mouth to her breasts. Her nipples were still so sensitive her breath caught in her throat when his tongue touched them. She didn’t think she could take this anymore, but to her amazement, renewed desire started to jolt through her body, making her vibrate again with need, as his lips trailed down, down.
Her body quickened and she reached for him, but he flipped her onto her stomach once more. He got on his knees and lifted her hips, so she was kneeling in front of him, her buttocks pressed against his rigid erection. He folded her fingers around the wood headboard.
Her hands convulsed around the headboard as he took his sex into his hand and rubbed the tip over her wet center.
“Oh, God!” She heard herself moan, then all reason left her as he inched himself inside her, filling her completely.
His thrusts were slow and long at first, then his breathing accelerated and so did the rhythm of his strokes. He pushed deeper and deeper, his strong fingers digging into her hips until he brought her to an explosive orgasm, just before he let out a guttural groan and shuddered, lost in his own climax.
They lowered gently onto the bed, trembling with fulfillment and repletion. He supported himself on his elbows, not letting her absorb all of his weight, though she was too far gone to notice.
She was too drained to form any words, but she laced her fingers with his, squeezing hard, then turned her head and kissed his knuckles. She hoped the gesture was enough to convey to Giovanni all the feelings he inspired in her soul, as well as the absolute happiness she derived from having his wholehearted love.
Chapter Sixteen
It was still dark when she awoke. Giovanni was sound asleep next to her, so she snuck out of the bed quietly, not to disturb him. She pulled on a thick robe and shoved her feet into fluffy house slippers before walking into the bathroom, where she washed her face and brushed her teeth.
After that, she left the bedroom, silently closing the door. She descended the stairs carefully, her long robe trailing behind her.
Guccio was asleep too, snoring on the couch in the den. When he sensed her, he became alert at once and rolled off his resting place, then came to greet her and lick her hands. She sat on the bottom step and stroked him for a while, talking to him in whispers, while he nuzzled his nose against hers.
She felt content and happy in her new home, despite the nasty episode that had happened in Rome. She’d almost convinced herself the robbery had been a coincidental one. Almost. There was nothing they could do anyway but wait for the police to do their job.
Meanwhile, she planned to enjoy Christmas with her fiancé and their dog. She looked across the living room at the bare tree Paolo had bought and placed next to the window. They would decorate it together and make this a tradition, for every year they were going to spend loving and cherishing one another. And even though their Christmas gifts had been spoiled, they decided they would exchange new gifts on New Year’s Eve.
She yawned and got up, heading to the kitchen, with Guccio trailing after her. She filled his bowls with fresh water and a generous portion of dog food, and then started to brew some real coffee. She usually heated some water in the microwave and threw some coffee powder in it, but today she wanted to go through the whole ritual.
They had more than enough food, thanks to Lucia. She’d watched the housekeeper cook a few times and caught some useful tips. Maybe one of these days she’d cook something for Giovanni. After he’d start work again, on the fourth or fifth of January next year.
Next year, she mused. How many Christmas days had she spent alone, with no thought of having a family and a life partner? Well, this year her life had gotten a drastic makeover and she was nothing but happy with the change. She tried to envision herself back in her tiny London flat, alone with her books, watching the world go by through her glass wall. She couldn’t. Not anymore. Life without Giovanni was simply unimaginable. He was the missing part of her soul—a part she hadn’t even known was missing until that day she’d met him, on a lazy December evening at the shooting range.
Lost in reveries, she didn’t hear him approach until he was just behind her, planting a soft kiss on the back of her neck. She turned and placed her cheek in his hand, letting it rest there for a brief second.
“Merry Christmas, baby.”
“Merry Christmas, amore!”
He kissed the top of her head, then sat at the table next to her, stretching and rubbing sleep from his eyes. She noticed he’d pulled on a thick black robe as well. The day was really cold, reminding them it was indeed winter.
“Want some coffee?” Without waiting for a reply, she got up to pour him some.
“Thanks. Smells divine,” he remarked, sniffing the steam above his mug.
“Well, I thought we deserve a treat on Christm
as morning, so I took the time to make it properly. How did you sleep?”
“Great. You?”
“Mmmm… Excellent.”
Guccio came to the table to greet his master and Giovanni gave him a full body rub. His teeth gleamed white against his dark face covered by black stubble.
“Hey, boy, did you get any breakfast? Of course you have,” he said, scratching the dog’s head. “You’ll make him obese if you don’t stop feeding him every hour,” he told Sonia.
“I feed him when he asks for food,” she replied defensively, making cooing sounds at Guccio, who moved toward her, overwhelmed by so much attention.
“Baby, he would eat non-stop if he didn’t have the limitations of a normal-sized stomach,” Giovanni said, sipping his coffee.
“Want some breakfast?”
“Not yet. I’m not quite awake. What do you say we crawl back into bed and watch a movie or something?”
“I say that’s the best idea I’ve heard today,” she replied grinning and got to her feet. “Let’s go. But,” she emphasized, “Guccio stays with us. In bed. It’s Christmas,” she added when she saw he was about to protest. “No arguments.”
They made their way back upstairs and cuddled into bed, turning on the TV set in the bedroom. Guccio fell promptly asleep, curled at their feet, snoring in canine bliss.
They watched holiday comedies until noon, munching potato chips and cookies, snuggled close under the bed covers.
The phone rang just when Look Who’s Talking ended. To their surprise and delight, it was Linda.
“Pronto, mia bambina! Come stai?” Giovanni asked, a wide smile spreading on his face. “Hold on, I’ll put you on speaker so Sonia can hear.”
He did and Linda’s voice filled the room.
“Merry Christmas, fratello! Merry Christmas, Sonia! How are you?”
“We’re fine,” said Giovanni, putting aside a bag of chips. “Snuggling in bed and watching movies. How about you? We didn’t call so we wouldn’t interrupt your honeymoon. How’s Paris?”
Falling for Italy Page 19