by Joy, Melita
He tried to imagine her as a teenager defending her mother. “Was he violent towards you or your mother,” he squeezed the side of his chair balling his fist.
“Physically no, emotionally he took his toll on us,” she captured his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d rather we change the topic. Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?” she diverted to him.
“Well, you’ve met Vittorio, and already I’m sure you have some understanding of the type of man he is. I lacked for nothing growing up, but he was a hard taskmaster. He wanted me to succeed, and he did this by pushing me from a very young age. After school and during holidays I would work at the factory. As a young boy, I started with menial tasks sweeping, mopping and later mowing the grass and assisting the landscaper with raking and pruning. From the age of ten onwards I’d be sent to the offices in Rome where I would spend hours sitting still in meetings trying to understand the conversations. Vittorio would expect notes to show that I had paid attention,” he explained.
“What every single holiday you did this? What about vacations and family trips away?” she asked feeling outraged for the boy who had given up his boyhood for a business empire.
“There was no time allowed for these sort of frivolities,” Renato laughed.
“Why are you laughing,” she was puzzled as his story wasn’t in the least bit humorous. She felt angered towards Vittorio for stealing away Renato’s youth, yet, he not only seemed unaffected he was laughing.
“Sorry, I just had a vision of Vittorio lying on a sun lounger at a private resort sipping on cocktails,” when she looked at him without comprehension he filled in the blanks. “If you knew him you would understand how preposterous the idea was. I’ve never seen the man relax in that way. He has always been a self-driven workaholic with the motto, ‘rest was for the weak’.”
“What is the point of all of his accomplishments if he never has the time to enjoy it?” she asked perplexed.
“His idea of enjoyment is merely different to yours. His sole drive is for power and wealth, and neither of these has a limit. Therefore, he will continue until his dying breath to attain more never being happy with what he has.”
“That’s so depressing. What about your adoptive mother? Where did she fit into all of this and surely she would have pressed him for family time?” As she got to know more of Vittorio she started to question whether she was worse off being raised in Australia. From what Renato had just said she was lucky to have escaped such a childhood. Then again being a female, he wouldn’t have even noticed her with his obsession for grooming his male successor.
“She was definitely, his match. Lucia Favalli, she was only two years his junior and a woman not to be reckoned with.” He remembered once again the day Lucia had Leilani and Rosa permanently removed from Vittorio’s life. “Lucia was born to a more privileged life yet she allowed Vittorio to sway her into marriage long before he became seriously wealthy. His business was still fairly modest when they started courting. I would have to assume that she saw his serious potential and was happy with the pace he progressed. She stayed with him for over forty years,” he stated. “In fact, if she were still alive they would be approaching their forty-fifth anniversary.”
“It sounds calculated and loveless?” she surmised.
“Let’s just say that the marriage suited them both. Lucia was not the loving kind, but she was a brilliant hostess and had good connections. Vittorio used her network to promote and further his growing business. Together they made a powerful team,” he emphasised.
“He obviously wasn’t all that committed to her though? I’m the proof of that,” she stated.
“That you are, but, Lucia and Vittorio were never a love match and neither of them were interested in changing that. Vittorio wasn’t capable in any case; his sole love was for his business. Putting her before the company was not an option, it would only weaken him, and he wanted no distractions. Lucia was the perfect wife for him. She did not demand his time and, in fact, went on many holidays abroad without him. When needed though she was always there to provide a unified family front that was especially helpful with his more conservative clients.”
“I just can’t imagine living like that. Love, it’s also an essential need in my opinion. However, to go on for decades devoid of it, surely it would just embitter them,” Leilani must have realised that their marriage could easily head in the same direction.
“It would depend on your expectations. If two people enter marriage and they have a mutual understanding, then I don’t see why it couldn’t work. A fondness could certainly develop, but there would be other payoffs. Love isn’t always a factor in a successful marriage,” he pushed.
She looked at him doubtfully, “Well maybe if they’d been in love and sleeping with one another they would have produced an heir to take over their precious business.”
He gave a short burst of laughter, “A loveless marriage didn’t hinder their bedroom activities. Lucia suffered two miscarriages and gave birth to two sons, Louie and Emilio. Both passed away as infants. Louie was premature dying less than a week old; Emilio was also born prematurely and managed to survive until he was four years old. He had chronic asthma and one night sick with the flu his asthma became unmanageable. Before the doctor arrived he drew his last breath,” he stated.
“Oh my god, that is just awful,” she pressed her fingertips to her mouth.
“It’s probably with good reason that she became so hardened. Lucia was given the news that she should never try to conceive again, and it was at that point that they decided to adopt me. Vittorio needed an heir, and this was his only option,” he paused looking at her lovely face, he eyes damp with suppressed tears. “Seven years later you came along.”
“You knew of my existence back then?”
“I did. In fact I used to sneak into the nursery to play with you,” he reminisced. “You were so fair, like a perfect little angel. I used to talk to you and ask you to grow faster so we could play together,” he smiled, as he took a trip down memory lane.
Leilani’s heart warmed to the story. This man, knew her, even if it was ever so briefly. His eyes shone lovingly with the memory of her, and it warmed her heart. The slightest indication that he had cared, even if it was more than a couple of decades ago had tears welling in her eyes.
“You and your mother left for Australia soon after. To be honest, I had suppressed the memory. It wasn’t until Vittorio asked me to go to Australia that I remembered you.” He looked at her and noticing the glistening trail down her cheek he stood them both up and embraced her.
“How maudlin this topic has become, and here I was trying to provide you a night of light entertainment. An opportunity to get to know one another better. I think I have failed,” his warm breath feathered her skin as he kissed her forehead and wrapped her closer in his arms.
She wanted to respond to tell him that these revelations were more meaningful than he could begin to understand. That knowing this story helped her to connect to and accept her biological father. It was no wonder that her and her mother were shipped off to Australia. Lucia wouldn’t have been able to bear looking at her each day having lost four of her children. Not to mention Leilani’s mother, she was surely in the wrong, being the other woman. There was so much she should say to express her gratitude, but her body took over where her ability to articulate abandoned her.
Leilani allowed her hands to wander across the expanse of his back feeling the ripples of well-defined muscles. She tilted her head back and encouraged his lips to explore hers. With emotions still high he alternated the kiss from a meshing of soft lips to the meeting of their tongues. His kisses like salted caramel, sweet warring salty for prevalence enticing her to pursue one after the other perpetually.
Heat pooled, and she felt the dampness against her cotton underwear. Oh god, she was wearing a pair of bikini cottontails, and there was no way she was going to let him get to a point where they became visible. As hot as she felt fo
r him she pulled away, or maybe it was Renato that pulled away announcing that it was time to move to the dining room for dinner.
They sat underneath an enormous chandelier. “How incredibly detailed and beautiful,” she exclaimed, happy to have found a diversion.
The way Renato looked at her she knew that she hadn’t fooled him one bit as he gave her some much-needed space like a real gentleman. “It’s a Murano piece,” and when she raised her eyebrows looking for clarification he expounded. “Murano is a place in Venice where they make fabulous glass items, miniature glass horses, vases, jewellery and larger items such as this chandelier. Many tourists go to the glass factory where they run tours, and you can see the glassblowers producing work in front of you.”
“It sounds wonderful,” she enthused.
“I’ll organise a trip after we marry then,” he smiled indulgently at her.
For a moment she almost believed it was a regular union rather than a forced business manoeuvre. “Renato, do we stand a chance of making this work?” they were to marry and she wanted to know what sort of marriage they would be entering.
He looked her straight in the eye, “I have not changed my mind. I want to marry you, and I want it to be a life-long commitment. As of next week you will be my wife,” his gaze didn’t waver from hers.
“Yes but in what way. What will my role be exactly? I don’t want a marriage like Lucia and Vittorio had. Will we be happy together?” she implored.
“That’s up to us; we will need to work on it, and I expect it will take time. Today wasn’t so awful, was it?” he questioned.
She didn’t need to think and agreed with him.
“Let’s just allow our relationship find its feet rather than pressuring it to be something that it is not meant to be,” he made no promise of love and realistically she couldn’t expect it. They had only known each other a short time. “I can make you this promise; I will respect you and be faithful to you. I will not humiliate you or hurt you, and I will make an effort to build our marriage,” he committed.
“Thank you and I will offer you the same assurances,” she smiled.
“Shall we eat?” his face lightened up with his smile as they shed the cloak of their deep and meaningful conversations. They ate with gusto; the days tourist events had given them both a healthy appetite and they talked of lighter topics including the sites that they’d seen. She was relaxed and enjoying the moment.
“Right, it’s time you got a taste for the company you are to inherit,” he demanded.
“Can’t we save business lessons for another occasion? I feel too relaxed after all that food to think coherently,” she pleaded playfully. Truly business was the furthest thing from her mind.
Smiling, he instructed the wait staff in Italian. Delicate hand painted shot glasses were placed in front of them, “from Murano?”
“Undoubtedly, and your lesson begins. To start with you will taste Favalli’s finest limoncello. This liqueur is the first type that Vittorio sold, and it has continued to be our most popular variety in Europe. The original recipe was handed down the generations of his family. However, it was Vittorio that thought to capitalise on it.” They raised their glasses to one another and Renato toasted in Italian, “Cin cin.” He knocked back the liqueur in one mouthful.
She followed suit saying the foreign words cautiously, “Chin chin,” she pronounced and gulped down her shot. “Wow,” she exclaimed, the heat of the drink glowing inside her.
Renato nodded his head in approval, and they briefly discussed the merits of the shot before moving onto other flavour variations including a creamy lemon, mandarin, almond and finally a chocolate liqueur.
As the drinks were being removed, they walked back out onto the terrace to view the city sunset. The sun went down so much later compared to back home. They sat side by side on a swing chair with his arm around her shoulders. She was far too relaxed to think of moving or to worry about her unattractive undergarments. If he kissed her again, she doubted this time she’d be able to resist things going further.
CHAPTER Thirteen
Renato smiled to himself, somewhere over the years he’d adopted more than he’d care to admit of Vittorio’s lifestyle. He relaxed in limited spurts, usually with a communication device nearby. Sitting here with Leilani enjoying her company it was a first. The women he’d consorted with were more interested in boosting their profile; they wanted dates in exclusive restaurants and to be seen with him at appropriate red carpet events. Sitting idly, watching a sunset just for the pleasure of it wouldn’t have been high on any of their lists, which at the time had suited him fine.
“Are you having a good time?” he asked casually, stroking her arm.
“I feel wonderfully relaxed,” she lied. Despite the drinks they’d shared, she was acutely aware of him of this he was certain. The evening was warm yet goose-bumps revealed her reaction to his feathery touch, her breath uneven and her rigid posture were all giveaways.
He pressed his open mouth against her cheek and breathing out slowly caressed a path down the side of her neck, savouring along the way. She shivered and turned her mouth towards his, and he didn’t hesitate to fulfil her desire. The kiss slow and sensual built with fervour. Demanding more her hands grew bolder while her body twisted to get closer to him. Her lids looked heavy, lust and alcohol half closing them, “Look at me,” he demanded wanting to be sure that she was with him willingly.
Her eyes widened, and as he held her gaze, he lowered himself towards her breast, his lips pressing against the modest swell above her dress line. Fingering the material he stretched it and the lace below to allow his mouth access to more of her flesh and her rosebud nipple. She pushed him back in denial, her body simultaneously betraying her with a soft moan. Renato had only ever had very willing bed partners, and Leilani would be no different. He journeyed one hand up her thigh, her skin so soft and enticing he hardened painfully at the thought of reaching and removing the lace or satin barrier that would be in place.
She stilled his hand with his and struggled to sit upright. “I’m sorry, I just can’t,” she muttered unevenly.
He looked up at her in disbelief, her flesh was ready for him, he knew with certainty. “I want you and I know your body is ready for mine. Tell me what you want me to do? All I want is to give you pleasure,” his voice soft and reassuring he wanted her in his bed.
“I’m just not ready for this, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let things progress like this,” she averted her eyes.
She was serious, and it made no sense, but he was not shy about finding out the issue. “What’s bothering you? Is it that we haven’t known each other long enough? I know it isn’t from my lack of intentions, we are to be wed this weekend, so you know I’ll be sticking around,” he pushed.
Leilani could feel herself glowing with embarrassment not knowing where to start or what to say, “It’s not that. I’m just, it’s just, well,” pausing she finally got it out, “I’m not altogether experienced,” she rushed looking anywhere but at him.
Renato used a light touch to turn her face towards him. “What exactly are you saying? That you are a virgin and you’ve never made love before? I don’t require you to be untouched, and I have to say I’d find it hard to believe at your age,” his puzzled smile only made her feel worse. She should have just got on with it, why had she stopped him.
Knotted up she uttered, “Not exactly.”
“So you are not a virgin, then how inexperienced could you be?” he questioned.
“Relatively,” he was looking frustrated with her lack of clarification. “What I mean is that I haven’t had much experience sexually, really I had to go out and pay for it,” she hoped he would get her meaning. Saying it was just too embarrassing.
He looked appalled. “You hired a gigolo,” he spat out with scorn.
“Oh my god no,” she felt horrified that he had come to that conclusion. Damn her inhibitions. She finally bucked up and spelled it out clearly. “I bought a
vibrator that I have used from time to time.” She had felt confident that his staff had already gossiped about it to him when they’d unpacked her luggage. “I own a toy, and I’ve never slept with a man. And now that I feel completely embarrassed I think I’d like to go to my room if you don’t mind,” and she walked off leaving him standing there stupefied.
Of all the things, he mused. So she had learnt to pleasure herself over the years, it was no crime. If he was honest, he was a little bit impressed, while not technically a virgin his wife came to him untouched by another man. He wasn’t sure if he had ever had that honour before but thinking about it the idea was certainly not unwelcome to him.
He could go and get her. Try to alleviate her feelings, but any continued persuasion to get her to bed would feel forced. He let her be and approached the terrace rail to contemplate his next moves. First thing first he needed an update from Savino. There were things that were still not adding up, such as why Leilani had needed the services of a private investigator to find Vittorio when Rosa knew where to locate him. The older woman had apparently kept tabs on Vittorio’s life; Renato had no need to make an introduction at her doorstep. She’d known full well who he was and she had not been one bit impressed to see him there, resentments still ran high for her even after all this time.
Leilani woke up the morning before the wedding musing on the previous couple of days. Renato had been true to his word in wanting to get to know her better, and they had started sharing breakfast and dinner with each other, continuing their conversations. Their kisses were getting steamier, and she was getting bolder exploring the masculine contours of his body but that is as far as things went. She wasn’t sure if she’d turned him off with her confession the other night, but there had been no further attempt at lovemaking.
There was a knock on the bedroom door, and Renato walked in suited up, clean shaven and scented with a fresh erotic scent, slightly citrus. His mouth would taste of coffee, and the combination would be heady. He was hot, and she was a rumpled mess, still dressed in her nightwear she pulled the sheet up. He smiled at her modesty, “Leant over and kissed her lightly on the mouth. I have some news for you regarding Vittorio. Get dressed and we’ll talk over an early breakfast,” he kissed her briefly again and walked out the door.