How many times had he heard all this? she wondered when he didn’t answer.
Her mother wasn’t a topic Anna liked to discuss. It was the judgement call she could read in people’s eyes when they learned about it, as if they were wondering what kind of daughter she must have been if her own mother abandoned her so soon after her father had died.
It was something that ate at her. What kind of hateful child must she have been to elicit that desertion?
But Stefano was her husband so it was only natural that in the course of their marriage she had opened up to him. And all he was doing right then was listening to a story she must have shared however many times but couldn’t stop relaying again now.
‘I often wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t put my foot down and refused to go with her. I don’t see how our relationship would be any different other than the fact I would have been on the other side of the world to my sister. Melissa couldn’t have gone. She’d just started university and was starting her adult life. I didn’t want to leave her or my friends. I didn’t want to leave my father.’
‘Your father was dead,’ he pointed out quietly. ‘Didn’t you want your mother to be happy?’
‘Of course I did but it was so soon; his death was so sudden.’ Her father had been killed when a wall had collapsed on him at the building site he was a manager of. ‘All my life it had been the four of us, a tight family unit... How could she have loved Dad if she started seeing Mick so quickly after burying him? How can you visit a grave when you’re on the other side of the world?’ She rubbed her eyes, only slightly aware that they were wet. Where had those tears come from? She hadn’t wasted tears on her mother in years. ‘And how can you leave your fourteen-year-old daughter behind?’
‘She knew Melissa would look after you.’
‘Melissa was only eighteen. She shouldn’t have been put in that position.’ She inhaled deeply, trying to keep her composure, but the tears leaking from her eyes seemed to have a life of their own. ‘She was as devastated as I was at what Mum was doing. She didn’t want either of us to go. I can’t remember whose idea it was for me to stay with her, whether it was hers or mine...’
Anna took a large drink of her wine and carefully wiped more tears away. She didn’t want Stefano seeing her with smudged mascara, not tonight. ‘I didn’t want to go and I didn’t want my mum to go either. I wanted her to stay and be my mum. I really thought if I refused to go that she would stay. Even when she bought me and Melissa the flat with Dad’s insurance money and set up a monthly allowance for us I thought she’d stay. Right up until the moment her plane took off, I thought she would stay.’
The pain she’d experienced when she’d realised her mum had gone—had really gone—had been indescribable. It had been like having her heart stabbed with a thousand knives.
There was a long period of silence before a warm hand covered hers and sympathetic green eyes held her gaze.
‘When did you last see her?’ he asked.
‘She came to England for my sixteenth birthday. That was her first and last visit. All she could talk about was how brilliant Australia was and how good Mick was to her. We had a massive argument. She called me and Melissa selfish bitches and said she was glad to be rid of us.’ The words almost stuck in her throat. ‘She flew back early.’
From the shock resonating in Stefano’s eyes, it appeared this wasn’t a part of the story she had shared before.
‘Have you had any contact with her since then?’
She shook her head. ‘She sends us cards and gifts for birthdays and Christmas, and she’s written a couple of letters, but that’s it.’
‘What did the letters say?’
‘I don’t know. We burned them without reading them.’
The waiter returned to their table with their starters. Anna sniffed her kung sadung nga, deep-fried prawns in sesame batter and glazed in honey, and felt guilty for lowering the mood.
After all her good intentions she was in danger of ruining their last night here.
Before she could apologise, Stefano said thoughtfully, ‘You’ve been coping with this for a long time. Do you think it’s time for you to deal with it and talk to your mother and see if things can be mended?’
‘You don’t want to mend things with your family,’ she said, stung.
‘That’s different. I will never forgive them for how they treated me. I will never forget. I don’t want reconciliation. All I want is for them to see me rich and successful; everything that they are not. But my family is not yours. They never cared for me but your mother cared for you.’
‘She left me,’ Anna said, coldness creeping through her. ‘How could she have cared for me?’
‘You said yourself you were a proper family before your father died. She loved you then. I would guess she told herself she was doing the right thing.’
‘I was a minor. I’d lost my dad, puberty had just struck...my head and emotions were all over the place. I needed her. Mel should have spent her uni years living it up and behaving atrociously, not having to be guardian to her bratty younger sister without any support from the woman whose job it was to care for us. How can you make excuses for that?’
‘I’m not,’ he said steadily, ‘But Melissa clearly thinks it’s worth trying and you trust her.’
‘But that’s what I don’t understand. What made Mel change her mind? She hates Mum as much as I do. We’ve always sworn we were better off without her.’
‘You can’t tell me you don’t miss her.’
Suddenly terrified she would do more than leak tears, Anna bit into one of her prawns and concentrated on not crying.
Only when she was confident she could talk without choking did she say, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin the evening.’
‘You haven’t.’ But his eyes had lost their sparkle.
‘You’re right that I’ve only been coping with it and not dealing with it,’ she admitted. ‘You’re the first person I’ve trusted since she got on that plane. Other than Melissa.’ Then, aware she was sinking the mood even lower, forced a bright smile on her face. ‘Don’t let me ruin the rest of the evening.’
‘Anna...’
‘No.’ She put her hand on his and squeezed it. ‘We can talk about this when we get back to London and reality, but our time here has been very special to me. We’re making good memories and I don’t want my mum spoiling them.’
A flicker of darkness crossed his features before he gave the dazzling smile she loved so much and leaned closer to her. ‘We have a whole night to make even better memories.’
* * *
Night had fallen when they left the restaurant, lamps illuminating the streets, the sound of the Pacific clearer.
The longer the meal had gone on, the smaller the restaurant had seemed until it had shrunk to just the two of them. She hadn’t seen anyone else. Her eyes had been only for Stefano. The restaurant had been busy but she couldn’t describe a single diner or even remember the colour of their waiter’s hair.
And Stefano’s eyes had only ever been on her, seducing her, making her heart race so that she forgot she was eating possibly the best pad thai she’d ever tasted.
After the discussion about her mother he’d regaled her with gossip about the industry and his rivals, making her laugh aloud more than once.
But now, with the cool night air on her skin, her thoughts drifted back to her mother.
Her abandonment was a ten-year open wound.
Had her mum made a big deal during her one visit to England about how amazing Australia was in the hope her daughters would join her there? Had she missed them as much as they’d missed her?
She left you without a parent when you were only fourteen years old, Anna reminded herself.
It didn’t change how much she missed her, even now. Stefano was right about that.
She’d been a loving mum, she remembered. Always busy, but always with a smile on her face. Quick to scold, but equally quick to forgive.
Her dad was gone from the earth. She carried an ache in her heart for him she knew would be there for the rest of her life, and accepted it. Welcomed it even, the pain a reminder of the father she had lost but would never forget. It was through no fault of his own that he’d missed the significant events in her life and she knew if he could be watching down on her then he would be.
Her mum was alive and well and missing all those moments by choice.
But she’d been there for Anna’s sixteenth birthday.
Except she hadn’t come back.
‘You’ve gone quiet,’ Stefano mused, his accented voice breaking through her reminiscences.
She squeezed her fingers tighter to his. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be. What are you thinking?’
‘Nothing exciting,’ she said, telling him the first untruth since she’d known him.
‘I don’t believe that what goes on in your brain is ever boring,’ he teased.
‘It’s full of mundane trivia.’
‘What is mundane?’
‘Like boring.’
Without warning he dropped her hand and grabbed her shoulders, pulled her to him and kissed her fully and passionately.
And then just as quickly he broke away and took hold of her hand again. ‘I bet your thoughts are not mundane now.’
He had that right.
By the time they returned to the beach house the only thing on her mind was making love to him.
When they stepped over the threshold, he gave her a long lingering kiss and said, ‘Wait for me in the sunroom while I get us a drink.’
The lights of the sunroom were off, the only illumination coming from the night lights surrounding the swimming pool and bouncing through the wall of glass. It lent the room a romantic quality that perfectly suited her mood and her desire for one last perfect night here.
She looked out of the window and gazed at the dark ocean, only the distant flashes of foaming surf and the twinkling stars in the night sky differentiating one from the other.
Stefano came back into the room carrying two glasses of white wine. He joined her at the window, his arm brushing against her as he handed hers to her. ‘Are your feet hurting yet?’
Startled at his question, Anna looked down at the fabulous shoes that, now she thought about it, were crippling her feet.
She must have been mad to wear such high heels on an evening that required walking. If she hadn’t been so dazzled by their brilliance she would have worn flats and now her feet wouldn’t ache so much.
‘They’re killing me.’
He tutted. ‘I thought so. You always wear silly shoes.’
‘They’re not silly,’ she said in mock outrage. ‘I just happen to like nice shoes.’
‘You have nice shoes that don’t require you to cripple yourself wearing them.’
‘If I wear heels it stops people tripping over me,’ she said, deadpan.
He wiggled his left eyebrow in the way that always made her laugh, then took a large drink of his wine and put his glass on the low round table in the centre of the room. He took her hand and guided her to the rounded sofa that looked so much like a bed.
‘Sit down,’ he ordered.
‘Bossy boots,’ she said, deliberately taking a slow drink of her wine before obeying.
Stefano sat next to her, took hold of her ankles and put her feet on his lap.
‘What are you doing?’
He unzipped the heel of her left shoe and gently tugged it off. ‘Someone has to look after your feet if you won’t,’ he answered, a sparkle in his eyes. ‘You are lucky you have married a man who gives fantastic foot massages.’
‘And how do you know that?’
Her other shoe went the same way as the first. The relief to her poor feet was indescribable.
‘You told me,’ he said with a patient shake of his head, ‘because you always insist on wearing silly shoes and then complain your feet hurt.’
The retort she had ready on her lips died away when he pressed his thumbs to the sole of her foot and slowly pushed up to her toes.
Stefano noted the way her eyes glazed as he began to massage her feet and experienced a thrill of satisfaction. Anna adored having her feet rubbed and right then he wanted to do nothing more than give her pleasure and wipe away the memories of her past he knew were suffusing her.
He would have given anything to stop her from talking earlier. He hadn’t wanted to see her pain.
Dannazione, he shouldn’t be aching to comfort her and wipe her demons away.
He could feel himself losing control of the situation and was determined to regain it.
‘Put your head back and relax.’
A knowing smile playing on her lips, she placed her wine glass on the floor. Then she did as he’d suggested and lay with her head against the rounded softness of the sofa’s back and her body in recline.
After massaging her left foot for a few minutes he switched to her right.
Anna sighed and finally closed her eyes. ‘You really do give amazing foot massages.’
‘I know.’
A snigger escaped her lips before she gave another deep sigh.
When he felt he’d worked enough on her foot, he moved his hand up to her ankle and then to her smooth calf, kneading the muscles with the pressure he knew she liked.
It occurred to him that he still knew far more about the responses of her body and what gave her pleasure than she did.
Up his hands went, over her knee, brushing the silk of her dress aside as he reached her thigh. This was where he had to be gentler, her inner thighs one of her most tender areas.
She kept perfectly still, only her deepening breaths indicating any response as his fingers inched ever upwards, his hand burrowing under her dress, deliberately keeping away from her most intimate area, teasing her, tormenting her.
Sliding his fingers back down her leg, he switched his attentions to her other leg and began the same sensuous trail.
Dio, but this was turning him on.
When he reached her thigh this time and kneaded his way to her hip, he hooked his finger into the side of her knickers.
Her breaths were now coming in ragged spurts, her cheeks flushed.
Taking hold of the elastic on her other hip, he gently tugged her knickers down. When the soft dark hair between her legs was exposed, her eyes flew open.
There was such desire and trust in that stare. When she looked at him like that all he could think was that he wanted it to be like this between them always.
It was too late for thoughts like that. Too late to erase the past. Too much had gone on between them but he couldn’t shake the thought that she’d said she trusted him unaware that, come tomorrow, he planned to destroy her.
This would be his last gift to her.
Stefano threw her knickers onto the floor then placed a hand on her ankle and gently pulled her legs apart. She writhed beneath him and he pressed a hand to her belly to steady her and placed a kiss on her inner thigh.
When he pressed his mouth into the heart of her she gasped and jolted as if she’d had a volt of electricity shot through her. A hand flailed out and touched his head.
He inhaled, breathing in her scent that he had never tired of, could never tire of.
Taking greater care than he had ever done in his life, checking his own ardour, which wanted nothing more than to rip both their clothes off and take her without ceremony, Stefano kissed and caressed the most intimate part of her to gradually open her up to him.
The fingertips on his head moved imperceptibly in tiny circular movements. Her breaths caught then deepened and tiny moans escaped her lips. The fingers on his scalp tightened and dug into him until finally, with the breathiest of gasps, her back arched and she shuddered.
Only when he was certain her climax was over did he haul himself up and put his hands either side of her head to stare down at her.
Anna had faced down everything life had thrown at her before, ne
ver flinching or hiding away. Over the past few days they had made love countless times, done everything possible, but this... This felt different. She felt different and opening her eyes to meet Stefano’s gaze was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. She was afraid of what she would find there.
As she forced them open she knew the thing she most feared was not finding what she suddenly realised she so desperately wanted to see. Love.
She swallowed and met his gaze.
Her breath came unstuck again. If not love, there was tenderness in the dark, swirling green depths and it filled her chest so completely that she hooked her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a long kiss.
‘You’ve got too many clothes on,’ he said gruffly into her mouth, his hands sliding down to her waist.
‘So have you.’
He made deft work of the belt. As soon as it was unclasped, her dress unwrapped itself, only one small button holding the last of the material together, which he undid with no effort before sliding an arm behind her back to unclasp her bra.
Gathering her to him, he pulled her up so he could slide the sleeves of her dress and bra down her arms, leaving her naked before him.
‘Dio, you’re beautiful,’ he muttered.
‘Your turn,’ she whispered, lying back down. She stretched her arms above her head, luxuriating in his dilated gaze.
He removed his shirt, then got off the improbably large sofa only long enough to shed his trousers and underwear.
And then he was back on top of her, his mouth covering hers, and with one long thrust he was inside her.
He took her with a feverish passion, raising her thighs to drive into her as deeply as he could, deeper and deeper, faster and faster, their bodies fusing together to become one pulsating being.
Anna’s climax bubbled back into life and when he came with a groan she followed within moments, biting into his shoulder and pressing herself as tightly as she could to him as the pleasure exploded out of her.
For a long, long time, the only sound to be heard was their ragged breathing and the thundering of their hearts.
Once a Moretti Wife Page 10