A Passionate Reunion in Fiji

by Michelle Smart

  Caramel eyes glittered. His throat moved a number of times before he responded with a gruff, ‘I had a work call I needed to take care of. Give me ten minutes?’

  She nodded.

  He strode to the bathroom door and turned the handle.

  As he pushed it open, he suddenly stopped and turned back to face her. His throat moved again. ‘You look beautiful.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE SETTING SUN bathed the lodge in a warm golden glow. The glow bounced off the delicate lights that adorned the exterior of the lodge and the high trees nestled around it, creating a sight that made Livia sigh with pleasure. The abundance of flowering shrubs filled the air with exotic scents that seemed more pronounced than usual to her sensitised state.

  The lodge’s huge double doors were open. Music and chattering voices echoed out of it like a friendly greeting.

  She walked in step with Massimo, heartbreakingly gorgeous in a black tuxedo and a black tie she doubted would stay around his neck for any length of time. In thirteen minutes flat he’d showered, dressed and trimmed his beard. He’d even tamed his thick black hair.

  From the moment they’d closed their chalet door behind them, the urge to take his hand had been all-consuming. It swung by his hip as he made his graceful long strides. All she had to do was stretch her fingers...

  Temptation was taken away when they entered the lodge. They were welcomed by a sea of happy faces all dressed in their finest clothes, embraces and smacking kisses flowing free and fast.

  Madeline pounced at the earliest opportunity. ‘Come with me and introduce yourself to anyone you’ve never met before,’ she hissed in Livia’s ear. ‘Everyone seems to know my name but I have no idea who lots of them are and I don’t want to embarrass myself or them by saying so.’

  Laughing, Livia happily stepped into the throng and introduced herself to the strangers, making sure to repeat their names for Madeline’s benefit. A handful were Jimmy’s old childhood friends, people who had once called this island home, others soldiers he’d befriended during his voluntary deployment in the Second World War. In all, there were ninety guests celebrating Jimmy’s birthday with him. The language barrier between herself and the native English speakers was easy to overcome, she found, by simply placing her hand to her chest and reciting her name. After that, Madeline would take over and translate.

  Getting everyone to the island for the party had been a logistical nightmare but the look on Jimmy’s face proved all the effort Massimo had made and the vast expense had been worth it. Currently talking to an old school-friend who was in his own wheelchair and had his own carer in attendance, Jimmy was smiling from ear to ear.

  Livia’s heart swelled with love for the elderly man whose home she had entered as his nurse and left as his granddaughter-in-law. He had an inherent kindness and a decency about him that had shone through from their first meeting, qualities inherent in his daughter and granddaughter too. This was the kind of family Livia had longed for as a child. A family where you felt safe and cocooned in love. There had been love of a sort in the Esposito home but it was a hard love, the kind that came with conditions.

  Her gaze drifted to Jimmy’s grandson and somehow her heart swelled even more. Massimo was on his haunches chatting to a frail great-aunt. Massimo was different from the rest of his family in more ways than she could count but he had their decency. He had an unlimited quota of generosity running through his veins. All this, the purchase of the island, the building of the entire complex...all of that had been achieved by Massimo so Jimmy could spend his final birthday in the place of his birth.

  The island would also be Jimmy’s legacy. The staff employed to work full-time on the resort doubled as wardens for the nature reserve. Jimmy’s offspring and his siblings’ offspring would enjoy this paradise for generations to come. All of it courtesy of Massimo.

  * * *

  Massimo tried to concentrate on what his great-aunt, a woman he’d never met before, was saying to him. Her heavily accented English flew like a burr from her mouth. Her gratitude towards Massimo for arranging the party and ensuring she got to see her youngest brother for the first time in almost seventy years touched him. He imagined her as a young girl playing with his grandfather and their other siblings, the last generation of Seibuas to live, work and play here before their way of life had become unsustainable.

  But it wasn’t her accent that made it hard for him to concentrate. His lack of concentration was down to his wife.

  She always looked beautiful but tonight... Beauty did not do her justice. He had to fight his eyes’ desire to keep seeking her out but somehow he was always fully aware of exactly where she was. Right then, she was at the buffet table with his father.

  The mid-thigh-length strappy black sequined dress she wore with its plunging neckline, the gold locket she wore around her neck, the gold hooped earrings that gleamed through the locks of her hair...

  Everything about her glittered.

  The Livia he’d first met had come back to life. The confident, gregarious woman with the throaty, dirty laugh, the woman who’d never found language to be a barrier for communication, she was here, radiating with the joy of life.

  And why shouldn’t she radiate in it? Life for Livia had been a hard-fought battle.

  Where had this woman gone in those awful cold months before she’d left him?

  He knew her brother’s escape had something to do with her carefree mood but there had to be a greater explanation than that.

  Suddenly her stance shifted and her eyes fell on him.

  That feeling of being punch-drunk hit him again.

  He had no idea how long they stared at each other. He barely recalled his last few minutes of conversation with his great-aunt either.

  In need of a drink, he was manoeuvring his way around small children dancing vigorously, when his grandfather caught his eye and beckoned him over.

  Massimo squatted to the same level as his wheelchair and took his frail hands into his own. It was like touching tissue paper. ‘Are you enjoying the party, Nonno?’

  ‘You have made an old man very happy. Thank you.’

  Massimo would never get used to the raspiness of his grandfather’s voice. He squeezed the frail hands gently. ‘My pleasure.’

  The filmy eyes that had once been the same colour as Massimo’s held his and the old gleam in them returned. ‘What does an old man have to do to get a bourbon here?’

  ‘I thought you’d been advised against drinking alcohol?’

  ‘What does advice matter when you’re dying?’

  Massimo winced.

  His grandfather twisted his hands so he was the one holding Massimo’s. He leaned closer to him. ‘I’m not afraid of death, Massimo. I’ve had a good life. All the people here remind me how good it’s been. I’ve lived, and the short time I have left, I want to live that too.’

  There was no guile in his grandfather’s stare but Massimo had the strong impression the elderly man was trying to tell him something.

  He kissed the bald head and wished he knew the words to tell his grandfather how much he meant to him.

  By the time he returned with his grandfather’s drink, a crowd had gathered around him. Not wanting to be snared in a large group and forced to make more small talk, he decided an upgrade from the beer he’d been drinking was in order and went back to the bar to order himself a large bourbon.

  He was on his second when Livia sidled up to him.

  ‘Hiding away?’ she asked.

  ‘Taking a breather.’

  Dark brown eyes studied him, a combination of sympathy and amusement in them. Livia knew well how social situations made him feel.

  She caught the barman’s attention and ordered herself a bourbon too. ‘This is a great party.’

  ‘People are enjoying it?’

  ‘Very much.’ She nudged
him with her elbow and pointed at one of the sofas. Two of the small children he’d almost tripped over earlier were fast asleep on it. A third, who’d gone a pale green colour, was eating a large scoop of ice cream, utter determination etched on her face. ‘Someone needs to get that girl a sick bag.’

  He laughed and was immediately thrown back to his sister’s wedding again.

  He’d approached Livia at the bar. She’d said something inane that had made him laugh. He wished he could remember what it was but it had slipped away the moment she’d said it, his attention too transfixed on her for words to stick.

  She’d blown him away.

  Those same feelings...

  Had they ever really left him?

  The music had slowed in tempo. The dance floor had filled, the children making way for the adults.

  ‘We should dance,’ he murmured.

  Her chest rose, head tilted, teeth grazing over her bottom lip. ‘I suppose we should...for appearances’ sake.’

  He breathed deeply and slowly held his hand out.

  Equally slowly, she stretched hers out to meet his. The pads of her fingers pressed into his palm. Tingles shot through his skin. His fingers closed over them.

  On the crowded dance floor, he placed his hands loosely on her hips. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders. A delicate waft of her perfume filtered through his airwaves.

  He clenched his jaw and purposely kept his gaze focused above her head.

  They moved slowly in tempo with the music, their bodies a whisper away from touching...

  ‘When did you take your tie off?’ Livia murmured when she couldn’t take the tension that had sprung between them any longer.

  She’d been trying very hard not to breathe. Every inhalation sent Massimo’s familiar musky heat and the citrus undertones of his cologne darting into her airwaves. Her skin vibrated with awareness, her senses uncoiling, tiny springs straining towards the man whose hands hardly touched her hips. She could feel the weight in them though, piercing through her skin.

  Caramel eyes slowly drifted down to meet her gaze.

  The music beating around them reduced to a burr.

  The breath of space between them closed. The tips of her breasts brushed against the top of his flat stomach. The weight of his hands increased in pressure.

  Heat pulsed deep in her pelvis.

  Her hands crept without conscious thought over his shoulder blades. Heart beating hard, her fingers found his neck...her palms pressed against it.

  His right hand caressed slowly up her back. She shivered at the darts of sensation rippling through her.

  Distantly, she was aware the song they were dancing to had finished.

  His left hand drew across her lower back and gradually pulled her so close their bodies became flush.

  Her cheek pressed into his shoulder. She could feel the heavy thuds of his heart. They matched the beats of hers.

  His mouth pressed into the top of her head. The warmth of his ragged breath whispered in the strands of her hair. Her lungs had stopped functioning. Not a hitch of air went into them.

  A finger brushed a lock of her hair.

  She closed her eyes.

  The lock was caught and wound in his fingers.

  She turned her cheek and pressed her mouth to his throat...

  A body slammed into them. Words, foreign to her drumming ears but unmistakably words of apology, were gabbled.

  They pulled apart.

  There was a flash of bewilderment in Massimo’s eyes she knew must be mirrored in hers before he blinked it away.

  A song famous at parties all around the world was now playing. The floor was packed with bodies all joining in with the accompanying dance. Even the passed-out children had woken up to join in with it.

  And she’d been oblivious. They both had.

  * * *

  The rest of the party passed in a blur, as if she’d been sucked into a time warp that had her in Massimo’s arms on the crowded dance floor one minute, the next following him into their chalet. Had they even spoken since they’d left the dance floor?

  Vague images flashed in Livia’s mind. Jimmy, ably assisted by all the children under the age of ten blowing out the ninety candles on his cake. The exchange of goodbye kisses.

  After the noise of the party, the silence in their chalet was deafening.

  She stared at Massimo with a thundering heart and tried to think of something, anything to say to cut through this tension-filled silence but her brain seemed to have been infected with a fever.

  His chest rose before he nodded his head in a decisive manner. ‘I’ll brush my teeth and leave you to sleep.’

  Every inch of her body screamed in protest.

  She managed to incline her head.

  He turned and disappeared into the bedroom.

  Massimo brushed his teeth vigorously, as if the bristles could brush away the longing raging through him.

  One dance with Livia had smashed through his defences.

  One touch of her hand had set his pulses racing.

  One look in her eyes had set his heart pounding.

  One press of her body against his had set the arousal he’d been suppressing by a thread off in an unstoppable flow that denial had no longer been able to contain.

  He could still feel her lips against his throat. That one brush had marked him. His body still buzzed from the thrills that had been unleashed in that one short dance.

  He wanted her with an ache that burned. He’d never stopped wanting her.

  Done with his teeth, he slapped cold water over his face then stared hard at his reflection.

  He was going to leave this bathroom, walk calmly through the bedroom, wish Livia a good night then go outside and sleep on the hammock.

  He would not linger. He would not engage in conversation. He would not touch her.

  To do any of these things would prise open the lid of the box they had both hammered shut. Their marriage was over for damn good reasons. In the morning they would say goodbye and fly to separate continents. The ripping of his heart at this thought meant nothing but an acknowledgement of his own failure. For a man who had succeeded on his own merits at everything he’d attempted in life, failure was a hard thing to tolerate. Their marriage had been a failure and much of that had been down to him. It was bound to sit uncomfortably.

  He patted his damp face dry, shoved the towel back on the rail and moved purposefully out of the bathroom, through the bedroom that had been designed to be theirs, and through to the main living area...

  Livia was in the kitchen area, her back to the counter, glass of water clasped tightly in her hand.

  Their eyes met.

  His heart squeezed unbearably but his steps did not falter.

  ‘Sleep well,’ he muttered as he continued to the door.

  Only when he’d closed the door behind him did he pause for breath.

  He closed his eyes and filled his lungs with resolve...

  But he could still feel her eyes on him.

  He fisted a hand and punched it into the palm of the other.

  He tried to set off again. His legs and feet refused to cooperate.

  * * *

  Livia stared at the closed door for so long her eyes became fuzzy.

  There was a cramping in her chest that made every breath she took an effort.

  She wanted to run out after him and beg him to come back inside. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and kiss him; his mouth, his face, his neck, his chest, every inch of him.

  She wanted his arms around her. She wanted to feel the intense pleasure that had cemented the love they had once found together.

  Deep in her soul she knew she would never find what they’d had with anyone else. It wasn’t possible for a heart to love as deeply as hers had loved Massimo
and move on without leaving a part of it with him.

  And he had loved her too. He had. Self-preservation had had her denying his love but being with him again had unleashed the memories she’d suppressed about all the good times they’d had.

  Those good times had been the best of her life.

  She’d had to focus on the bad times that had destroyed them because to remember the good times would have been to remind herself in multicolour detail of all they had thrown away.

  Resolve suddenly took her in its grip, pulling her out of the paralysis that had kept her immobile in her desperate thoughts.

  Shoving her undrunk glass of water on the counter, she kicked her shoes off and put one bare foot in front of the other...

  Without any warning the door flew open.

  Massimo filled the doorway, breathing heavily through his nose, his hair dishevelled, caramel eyes pulsing.

  There was a moment of stillness. Only a moment but it stretched and pulled like an invisible band looping around them, pulling tighter and tighter until the binds became too great and, feet moving in sync, they closed the distance between them.

  Livia drank in the face she had never stopped dreaming about. Everything inside her had cramped. Except for her heart. That felt as if a hummingbird had nestled in it.

  The throat she had unthinkingly kissed moved. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone. The dinner jacket he’d worn to the party had long been discarded with the tie that had adorned his neck.

  This was Massimo; heartbreakingly handsome yet unkempt, lacking in vanity and dismissive of his own beauty. Yet he had made her feel feminine and beautiful. He had made her feel as if she were the only woman on this earth.

  The look reflecting back at her now...

  It made all those old feelings come roaring back to life.

  The electrified air between them swirled as his hand inched to hers. Fingers locked together. Slowly, he lifted their hands to his chest as, equally slowly, his other hand touched her hair. Using the backs of his fingers, he stroked the strands.