Her tone was whipping. He reached her but she pulled away.
“I don’t believe you, Ale. I don’t think we date. I don’t think I’m here for a course!” She turned back, closer to the window. Alessandro approached her from behind. She winced. Silent sobs shook her.
Chiara was choking. She had looked Alessandro just before. A flash of voices and confused words had crossed her. It wasn’t the first time that it happened in those days. Now, some flashes were becoming sharper: she wanted to remember, she wanted to know, and she wanted to understand.
Spisni and Ruggeri, her bosses, were busy with a meeting. They couldn’t help her.
She felt Alessandro’s hands on her shoulders. She stood still. She felt his lips on her neck, his breath brushing her, his tongue licking her beneath her ear: a long shiver ran through her body. She swallowed, striving to remain still. It wasn’t easy. Her unreliable body betrayed her. Her heart was beating furiously: Alessandro’s hands slipped on her breasts, covering them gently and making her groan.
Alessandro didn’t know what that was. Once, again, instead of trying to move her away, he wanted her, he wanted her body; he wanted to sink into her. He stroked her breasts. His hands slowly crept under his shirt. His manliness pressed against her buttocks. He realized that his heart was disconnected from his brain. He shouldn’t have been there, about to make love with her, in the office. This was against all logic. Indeed, he walked away: the time to lock the door, and he returned to her. She was motionless. He made her spin to see her face, wet with tears. Her eyes were so shiny.
“Chiara, you drive me crazy!” Those few words he said were the only part of his feelings he could tell her. With febrile gestures, he put her jersey off: passion burned up. He whispered against her lips:
“I want you. I missed you in these two days!”
She closed her eyes, as her body recognized him. Her hands removed the belt of his uniform. She stroked his sculpted abs. Her fingers brushed the soft hair that came down from his navel. Then, she touched his manliness.
The pants of him fell down, revealing his legs. He slipped his hands under the waistband of her jeans, sliding to the ground. At the same time, he stroked her legs: they were so slender, so boiled.
“I don’t know who you are!”
Her whisper was full of despair. Their lips were seeking. He lifted her in his arms, making her sit. He slipped off her panties, watching her naked on the couch:
“It’s just me, Chiara. It’s just me… I’m the one that your heart is looking for, even now!” he closed his eyes as the words came out before he could reflect. She watched into his eyes. She was surrendering. She accepted his sentence.
“God, how beautiful you are, Chiara!”
She stared at him, with half-closed eyes. He shook his head, continuing to look at her. She felt her nipples harden. The heat between her legs was burning. She moved and spread her legs, seeking rest. He didn’t seem up to move.
“Ale?”
He breathed and reached her. He didn’t touch her. He wanted to ask her… he bit his lip:
“What?” She urged.
“I… you’re so beautiful… I…”
Chiara stroked herself, alone.
“Do you like my body? Do you like that…?” She touched her own breasts. He nodded. She went down with her hand on her belly.
“Do you like this too, Ale?” He nodded and swallowed. Her hand was approaching inexorably toward the triangle between her legs. He held his breath as she stroked slowly, touching the top. Her hand disappeared between her legs. He whispered.
“Do you like this too, Ale…?” He didn’t resist. He approached, while she was moving her hand, slipping his hands under her buttocks, entering into her without further invitations. She gasped, moaned, as he sank into her. He raised her, putting her upright. They were standing. They weren’t comfortable, but at that time they couldn’t think of anything else. Their hands were looking for each other, touching each other body, looking for relief, for warmth. His lips came down on hers. He picked her, touching her buttocks. She clung to him. He slammed her against the back of the couch.
Alessandro couldn’t think. She had her eyes half-closed. She was naked in his arms. He watched at the desk nearby, then returned to watch her. Chiara followed his gaze. She smiled. She had another flash in her mind, while excerpts of the conversation resurfaced. She opened her mouth, to share with him the return of her memory. She realized that he had grabbed a chocolate from a box on the desk. He unwrapped it, moving slow inside of her. He gone out, interrupting the game. She watched the chocolate and his lips barely open. He leaned the chocolate on his mouth and sucked it. She leaned, stealing it from his lips. He smiled.
“You like chocolate, don’t you?” Chiara nodded. He grabbed another chocolate. He passed it on her breast. Her skin was flushed. She had a trail of chocolate on both breasts. She felt the chocolate guided by the expert hands of Alessandro along the groove of her breasts. Then it passed down to the navel. She winced. Alessandro didn’t pass the chocolate on her pubis. Once chocolate arrived around there, when she thought to feel the chocolate, she heard Alessandro calling her name. She just looked at him. He put the chocolate in her mouth, kissing her passionately, tasting the chocolate directly from her mouth.
If it weren’t for the couch behind her and if Alessandro had not kept her, Chiara would have fainted. She was sure. He was fire on her skin. She pulled his hair:
“I want you inside me!”
He smiled:
“As you wish, princess!”
They moved together, every thrust, every kiss was a strange alchemy. He stifled her scream, swallowing along with her.
The reality gained the upper hand: the voices of the cops in the hallway. He ran a trembling hand through is hair:
“Chiara, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me!” He looked at the marks on her. She shook her head:
“Over us!” He turned around. She thanked God, because she suddenly remembered many things. Too many. At the point where their souls had met, in the moment of greatest pleasure, like flash, her mind had cleared up:
“Ale, my head hurts. Do you mind if I go?”
She ran away, after she had dressed. She opened the door and left the room.
Chapter 36
Chiara leaned against the bathroom door. She had one hand on her face:
“God’s sake!” Was he corrupt, was he the enemy? He had almost killed her with his bomb… or not? But he thought she couldn’t remember. He considered her at his mercy. She threw cold water on the face. Her body was still languid. It wanted him, still wanted him. It wanted his body and his mind. What if he had been corrupted? A stab of pain to her head invited her to stop thinking. It wasn’t the place. It wasn’t the time. She would have used everything to investigate. She would have discovered many things as possible about him, even if that meant selling her soul to the devil, even if it meant that if he had been found innocent, she would have lost him forever.
Alessandro had dressed himself. Now, he was leaning against the window. He was a jerk. With her, he couldn’t keep his hands in place. She would have been his ruin, in every sense. She could find out all. She could really ruin him. He had to go away from her. Instead, he wanted her, above him, now and forever. He was a jerk, again. There was no future for them. There had no things in common. Yin and yang, good and evil. He had to forget her. Sooner or later, his would have come to the surface and then… he clenched his fists. He had to stop thinking about her and try and send her at home. It was the only solution.
Chiara was talking to Torres. He joined her. He was taut as a violin string:
“Alessandro, you’re welcome. I stopped Chiara. She wanted to go home. Listen, we would like to clean up her room at the hotel. You two have a lot of confidence. Would you please bring her to your home?”
He stared at her. She shrugged:
“I don’t understand why you should clean up the room: I don’t even know how I knew of
the bomb. Maybe, I just analysed some files…”
Torres shrugged, staring at her:
“Until your memory is back, it will be a mystery. But I don’t want any surprise. We’d better check!”
Chiara remained impenetrable. She was up to go where she wanted to go. She had been talking for half an hour. She went and sat in the meeting room.
“Ale, I have to talk!”
“Yes, Carlo. Tell me!” Carlo stared at him. He stared at the colleagues around:
“Alone!”
Alessandro had a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t hold up the game for a long time. He had to find a solution, something to come out ahead. He followed Carlo out to the car. He leaned on the roof:
“Ale, what’s going on?”
Alessandro took a deep breath, before answering:
“What do you mean, Carlo?”
“You’re strange. You’ve changed. There is something bothering you. Can I ask what? Ale, I tell you frankly. I have doubts on your work. Since the new detective came, you have been stranger, harder and reluctant to talk. Too many strange things are happening. Amina is concerned!”
Alessandro tried to remain impenetrable, even if his heart was running and he was sweating, shaken by shivers. He saw things blurry. He couldn’t break down now, not now that he was almost at the end, not now that Jamal was coming full circle. Clouds were gathering in the air. The leaden sky seemed to felt his mood.
“Carlo, we’re all under pressure. I don’t know what else to say. There’s nothing to worry about!”
Carlo weighed his words. He decided to let it go, away. Alessandro feared that sooner or later he would have returned.
Once he finished his turn, he sighed. He would have brought Chiara at home. Fortunately, she didn’t remember anything yet. She was sitting in the meeting room. She was intent on watching the slides of the course. It had been suspended. In theory, she could go home. When he had proposed to Torres, he had replied:
“Are you crazy? She found the bomb! We must know how. She can help us to catch the terrorists! Don’t you dare to propose to send her home!”
“Are you ready?”
Chiara breathed slowly. It was a good question. Was she? Was she ready to hide her heart, her soul and her feelings to him? Was she ready to play a part, ready to hide the fear of discovering that he was rotten? Her heart was tormenting to one that was on the other side.
His hands had made her to fly; his mouth, the taste of chocolate. She swallowed, standing up and turning to him, she nodded:
“Yes, I am. Let’s go!”
Fortunately, Alessandro didn’t reach out. He was just looking at her. At that time Chiara wouldn’t have been able to touch him without collapsing, without scream to tell him the truth, to show him who he really was. They went on side by side in silence, both absorbed in their thoughts. Alessandro looked at the road with a quick glance. With his jaw clenched, he headed for the car.
“Alessandro?”
“Tell me, Chiara!” He stared at her eyes:
“I don’t want to bother you, if you want to stay alone I’ll go back to the hotel or even at home!”
“No way. It’s twenty-four hours. You’ll be back to your room tomorrow”
“Okay. Let’s go!”
She climbed into the car. She stood still. She was rigid. Her legs were on one side. Her face was turned towards the window. The distance between headquarters and Alessandro’s home was less than a mile; nevertheless, Alessandro felt the tension rise, like a curve next to its apex. His heart was beating crazy. He had dreamed of her every night, every day. Before, in his office…
He narrowed his eyes. He missed the gear: the car scratched. He bit his lip, turning toward her. She was aware of the effect she made him? He had never succumbed to his instincts, never while he was working, never with a colleague. He turned to look at her: she was a colleague working on a case he was involved it. She knew a lot. She was someone that could ruin him. She was the one that, if just her memory had recovered, could kick him out from the Police. Despite this, he wanted to protect her. He wanted to hold her, kiss her. He wanted to sink into her again. He wanted her… damn! He wanted her to trust him!
Chiara was beside him, stiff and tense. Memories had flooded her. They had cancelled her will. Making love with him had been molten gold, sweet as honey and passionate. It had been an explosion of colour, warmth and love. She stared at him sideways. She couldn’t think that he was corrupt, that he had known about the bomb; it would have meant that he was in charge of Claudia’s death. Could he really be so cold, so insensitive, to be able to pretend a pain so real when he gave to Claudia’s parents the notice of her death, if he had caused it? Could he be so false?
Yet, while they were in the shower, he was passionate and loving. She had felt a close harmony, an affinity. His hands were sincere. His mouth was sweet and passionate. She had felt his real, undeniable feelings. She couldn’t have misunderstood so much. Even in the office, he had been carried away. The passion overdrew them, but there was something more too, both for her and for him.
Maybe, the first time, she had thought of cajoling, but then… what was that? She was working on him, against him. She could ruin him, but she hadn’t, not yet: she wanted to know and she wanted to believe him!
Chapter 37
When he parked the car, rain was starting to pour. A thunder made them jump:
“A flood’s coming!”
Chiara nodded and sighed following him into the hallway.
“Chiara, let’s go!” He put his hand to the small of her back, looking around. She pretended not to notice it, but she realized that he was looking for someone hidden. Who? And why?
Once they entered, she looked around:
“It’s my apartment. Sorry, it’s a mess. I didn’t expect any guest. The corridor is on your right!”
Chiara jumped out. It was true. She had not to remember. She nodded, clutching her body with her arms:
“Ok, thank you!”
He stood still, until he turned:
“So what’s up?”
“Nothing. I’m thirsty!” He frowned, puzzled. Then he took off his jacket and took off his shirt, resting it on the couch. He walked to the kitchen.
“What do you want? Water, juice, coke?”
Chiara inhaled, looking at the stacks of books resting on the table and a t-shirt leaning on the sofa:
“Okay for coke!”
Tension was breathable, palpable: it was undeniable. Chiara went to the kitchen. She collided with Alessandro who was carrying a bottle and two glasses. He walked without looking. He thought that she was sitting on the sofa. She clung to his shoulders not to fly with her ass to the ground. She stared at him. She would have payed gold to be able to read his mind.
“Excuse me!”
“Don’t worry, Chiara. But you have nothing to put on and change your dresses. Do you want to go and buy something?”
“For twenty-four hours? I need just a home’s T-shirt. I don’t formalize!”
“You’re really a strange girl. Ok. I’m going to take it, anyway!”
Chiara stood watching him get away. She hurried to the file that she had seen in the kitchen. She had never noticed it, before. She opened it, quickly. She looked ad the photos of Jamal, read the phone number, and deciphered a card saying “12:00 call J.”. She stood still. That was evidence. She quickly took a shot of it, before closing all. She leaned with one hand at the table, a few moments that before Alessandro came:
“Are these fine?” Two shirts, a grey one and a blue one, were dangling from his hand. Chiara nodded, staring into his eyes. Was it really evidence? But if Jamal was an informant as he had said…
“Chiara, what happens?” He stepped forward, grabbing her by the shoulders. She felt the heat radiating down her arms, along her bust. She felt her stomach tighten. Her heart missed a beat. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
Alessandro was concerned. Chiara didn’t seem herse
lf. She seemed worried, tense, and watchful.
“Chiara, I’m sorry for today in the office.”
“Why? You said that we are intimate, so?”
“I put you in trouble!”
Chiara looked at him. He didn’t know how that was true. He had no idea. She snapped like spring:
“Forget it, Alessandro. Rather, do you have some to offer me to eat?” She wanted to change the subject. He nodded:
“Actually, I don’t have a lot. I have just frozen stuff!” He prepared pasta. They ate in silence. Alessandro got up:
“Okay, Chiara. Something happened. You’re silent, tonight! What’s going on?”
“Nothing, Ale!”
He pulled the chair, swiping it on the floor, making her shiver:
“Don’t tell me crap, Chiara!” He slammed his hand against the table. She gasped, facing him. She was decided:
“What do you want? What? Put yourself in my shoes! I don’t understand! I don’t know even who are you…”
She continued: “I don’t know what you want, I don’t know what I want, who I am. So what do you want me to do now? That I smile as it was the easiest thing in the world? Nothing is simple: I’m almost blown up. Your colleague died. Others have died in the explosion. What do you want from me now? I think that it’s easy? I’m not having fun. It’s not a game.”
“I never said any of that, Chiara. You did, for no reason!”
She had approached the door of the room, her back to him. Rain begun to fall, a violent storm:
“No reason you can see. Right? Really, Ale?”
“Chiara, I’m sorry, okay? I’m a forthright one. I always was!”
“I see. You’re headed. You always do studs-up tackles!” Chiara felt anger with herself and with him.
“Chiara!”
“Leave me alone, Ale!”
She ran toward the end of the hall. He whirled leaning both hands on the stove. What happened, exactly? His head was bowed. He lost in his mind. It had all been so violent, lightning. She had sprung up. Because of him? Dammit!
He thought. His knuckles were tight and rigid. He shook his head, realizing that he had been still for a long time. He thought he saw Chiara in the living room. She wasn’t there. He couldn’t hear a pin drop. He heard only the noise of the storm. He walked to the bathroom, thinking she was there, but it was empty. He moved into the bedroom. It was empty too. He began to be troubled. He opened the study. Was she out? Alone? The car keys were still on the cabinet. He turned, looking at the balcony and veranda. Chiara was still under the rain. He hurried toward her.
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