Caroline Anderson, Anne Fraser, Kate Hardy, Margaret McDonagh

by Brides of Penhally Bay Vol. 04 (lit)

  Although she usually went out of her way to avoid social gatherings, Polly had woken on Sunday morning to find herself anticipating the promised arrival of her new friends with eagerness. She had even braved the kitchen to make some muffins and cookies as her contribution to the picnic. Chloe and Lauren had seemed genuinely delighted, and their pleasure that she had chosen to accompany them for the day had given Polly a boost. As had the enthusiastic welcome she had received from Oliver and Gabriel—and Foxy the grey-hound—when she had climbed into the car.

  A couple of hours had passed since then, and Polly had started to relax, largely thanks to the way her new friends had included her and set her at ease. They had talked about all sorts of things—and she had learned with dismay about Lauren’s diagnosis of retinitis pigmentosa earlier in the year which meant she had to keep her sunglasses on to protect her eyes. There had been a lot of laughter and some gentle teasing, but Polly was grateful that none of them had pressed her to talk about herself.

  Polly had been content to be left with her book while the others had gone for a swim. Now she sat on a blanket spread on the soft sand in the secluded cove a short distance along the coast from Penhally’s busy main beach. It was a glorious day, the sun was shining and they pretty much had the small cove to themselves. Setting her book aside, she wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees, smiling as she watched her companions kick a football around in the shallows to the eager delight of Foxy who bounded around them. Her smile turned wry as she realised that here she was, thirty years old, back in Penhally, and still sitting on the sidelines, keeping apart, just as she had in all the years growing up here.

  She thought of Kate and longed to see her. The older woman had undergone her final session of radiotherapy on Friday, and Polly knew that Rob and the boys had planned something special for them to do together this weekend in celebration. Polly was delighted for Kate—both that the ordeal of her treatment was over and that she had a new man in her life after so many years alone—so she felt guilty for the twinge of disappointment that, thanks to a turn of events no one could have foreseen, there had been little opportunity since her return in July to have a real heart-to-heart with Kate. And, since their conversation on Thursday, Polly was also now impatient to hear whatever it was Kate needed to tell her about Nick Tremayne.

  A prickle of envy trickled through her as she saw Oliver sweep Chloe up in his arms and kiss her passionately, before setting her back on her feet. As Chloe headed back towards her, Oliver plunged into the sea for a swim. They were such a special couple, as were Gabriel and Lauren, who continued to play with Foxy for a few more moments before Gabriel kissed Lauren with equal fervor, then ran into the sea to join Oliver.

  Polly wondered what it felt like to be that loved, that secure, and seeing two couples who undoubtedly shared the real thing only served to make her realise that she had never come near it. She had hoped she had found it with Charles, but it had been an illusion, a painful mistake, and after all that had happened she felt certain she would never be able to love or trust again. With Chloe and Lauren approaching, she struggled to hide her feelings and shake off her introspection.

  ‘I’m pooped.’ Chloe laughed, briskly drying herself with a towel and wrapping a sarong around her waist and over her one-piece swimsuit before sitting on the blanket.

  Pulling a T-shirt on over her bikini, Lauren knelt down, nodding her agreement. ‘You definitely have the right idea, just chilling out, Polly.’ Pulling out an old towel, she gave Foxy a quick rub.

  ‘Oh, they’re here!’ Chloe exclaimed.

  Lauren looked up from her task and adjusted her sunglasses. ‘Great.’

  Wondering what had caught her friends’ attention, Polly looked over her shoulder and her mouth went dry. Luca! She had not known he’d been invited, too. For the moment she was too overwhelmed to think straight as her gaze locked on the sight of him wearing nothing but figure-hugging swim shorts. The black Lycra hung low on his hips, leaving his impressive torso bare, while the legs of the shorts moulded his legs to mid-thigh.

  Polly’s pulse started racing and she couldn’t stop staring at him. Whereas both Oliver and Gabriel were gorgeous and both had lean, athletic bodies, she scarcely noticed them as they jogged up from the sea to meet the new arrival. Her gaze was riveted on Luca. He was a few inches shorter than the other two men and he was bigger built, less streamlined. But there wasn’t an ounce of spare flesh on him. He was all muscle, solid and strong.

  Luca had more hair on his chest than the other men, too. The flat, dark ruby-red orbs of his nipples nestled within the dark whorl of curls that spread across and between his pecs. The hair arrowed down in a dark line to his navel, continuing down over olive-toned skin to disappear beneath the lowslung waistband of his shorts. Her traitorous fingers itched to explore his body, to know the texture of his skin, the firmness of the muscles rippling beneath the smooth flesh.

  The undeniable attraction and arousal Luca caused made her think of sex. And how long it had been since she had even been cuddled, let alone had felt loved—even if it had been an illusion. She pressed her palms to overheated cheeks. Her experience had been limited, Charles her only lover, but even with her hang-ups about her body, the physical side of their relationship had been nice…in the beginning.

  When things had started to go wrong in other ways, so had their love-making, and when they had reached the point where Charles had no longer touched her at all, she had been relieved. She had shut that side of herself down ever since, more so for the last four years with the ending of her marriage and the loss of her baby.

  She had never imagined wanting to be with another man again, to be held and kissed and touched and loved, especially as the issues with her body had increased, filling her with dread at the thought of anyone seeing her naked. But since meeting Luca, everything in her had reawakened and she felt edgy with desire and longing and unfulfilled need. There was no denying the fact that she ached with wanting him. But she couldn’t have him. And not only because of her fears about her body. She wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of woman, neither did she want to get involved again. Given his circumstances, she couldn’t imagine that Luca did either. Far safer if she worked harder to fight against the attraction now, before she did anything foolish.

  ‘Polly!’

  Her name, called in high-pitched excitement, drew her attention away from Luca and for the first time she noticed the twins. As Rosie ducked out from behind her father and ran across the soft sand as fast as her little legs would carry her, a lump of emotion lodged in Polly’s throat. She didn’t want to bond with these children, but even though she had only met them once, she knew it might already be too late.

  As Toni set off in hot pursuit of her sister, Rosie caught her foot on the edge of the blanket, a comical expression of surprise on her face as momentum propelled her small body towards Polly. And no matter how she told herself that she only opened her arms and caught Rosie because the little girl might have hurt herself with her ambitious flying leap, Polly knew it was a lie. Instinctively, she held the child against her, the feel of her and the scent of fruity shampoo and baby powder tugging at her heartstrings and twisting the pain inside her.

  Giggling, Rosie wrapped her arms tightly around Polly’s neck and planted a kiss on her cheek. Then, holding on with one arm, she looked towards her father and rapidly approaching sister with a triumphant grin on her face.

  ‘Papà, I told you Polly would come,’ she declared.

  Toni, still with her bandaged hand, pushed her way in, determined to make room for herself on Polly’s lap, and kissed her other cheek. ‘Me, too.’

  Polly struggled to choke back tears, her gaze inexorably lifting up the masculine length of Luca’s body as he arrived at the blanket and set down the cooler and other things he was carrying. Then she met the watchful speculation and burn of fire in his dark eyes, and the aching knot of need and want tightened inside her. Scared at what was happening, she dropped her arms, thank
ful when the twins reluctantly moved away to be introduced to the others by their father.

  ‘Rosa Jane and Antonia Elaine,’ she heard, missing many of the words as she lost herself in the husky, sexy sound of Luca’s voice.

  ‘But everyone calls me Toni…’

  ‘And me Rosie,’ the girls explained in tandem.

  Polly tensed as Luca knelt down on the blanket, far, far too close to her. Then her heart turned over with a mix of pain and longing as Luca sat back on his heels and gathered both girls into his arms, kissing them and tickling them until each was breathless from laughing.

  Once released, the twins switched their attention to Foxy and, for a dog Lauren had told her was once people shy, the greyhound accepted the attention with remarkable fortitude.

  ‘Why don’t you all go and have another swim or play with the girls before lunch?’ Polly suggested, needing a few moments to regather her composure. ‘I’ll set the things out and call you when it’s ready.’

  She was relieved when Oliver, Chloe, Gabriel and Lauren agreed without protest, taking the ball and moving down the beach with the girls and Foxy. Much to Polly’s dismay, however, Luca remained behind, which was not what she had intended. Oh, help…she didn’t want to be alone with him!

  ‘Hello, Polly.’

  Flustered by the throaty purr of his voice, positive he had moved even closer, she couldn’t stop fidgeting—anything other than look at him or, worse, give in to the temptation to touch him. ‘Hi,’ she managed to reply, busying herself unpacking the picnic plates, cutlery and cups, before turning her attention to the food in the coolers.

  ‘You don’t want to swim yourself?’ Luca asked, automatically helping her with the tasks.

  She shook her head, her long plait bouncing against her shoulders. ‘I’m not keen on the water.’

  Her disobedient gaze flicked to him and she couldn’t force it away again. She cursed the tinge of colour that warmed her cheeks in response to his nearness. For the first time she noticed the tattoo over his heart, above his left nipple, partially hidden beneath his chest hair, her attention lingering far too long as she deciphered the design. It was plain and simple but clearly heartfelt, and combined the names of his children in the shape of a cross and written in blue, with ANTONIA going across horizontally and ROSA going vertically, down through the central O.

  ‘I had it done straight after they were born,’ Luca told her, his voice rough with emotion. ‘To keep them close to my heart and remind me they were my reason to go on living without Elaine.’

  Any embarrassment she felt at being caught looking at him was washed away by the pain that ripped through her at his words. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, unable to halt the single tear that spilled between her lashes and dropped onto her cheek.

  ‘Don’t cry for me, zingarella.’

  The softness of his words was matched by the gentleness of his caress as he raised one hand, the pad of his thumb catching the tear and brushing it away. It sat for a moment, beaded on his skin. Then he raised it to his lips and sucked it inside his mouth, tasting her, the gesture so tiny but so erotic that Polly forgot how to breathe.

  His palm cupped her face, and a shiver ran through her at the sensation of his touch. It was impossible to drag her gaze from his. She feared she would lose herself in those deep, dark eyes—eyes that saw into her very soul. As his thumb traced the swell of her lower lip, she could feel every rapid beat of her heart. His touch was unmistakably male, making her wonder how his hands would feel on the rest of her body and sending heat coursing through her.

  A sudden shout and burst of laughter snapped her out of the spell of the moment, and she dragged a shaky breath into lungs that felt starved of oxygen as she drew away from Luca. She glanced round, thankful that no one was looking in their direction.

  ‘You have beautiful children,’ she murmured, her voice unsteady, returning to her task unpacking the lunch things in an effort to mask the way her hands were shaking. ‘You’ve done a great job with them.’

  Again Luca moved to help her. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘They look so alike and yet are very different,’ she added, cursing the wistful edge that laced her words as her gaze strayed to watch Rosie and Toni playing…pain for what was lost and yearning for what would never be stealing through her.

  ‘From the first they swiftly developed distinct personalities.’ Luca sat back, a smile on his face as he watched his daughters, tightening the ache inside her even further. ‘Rosie is a thinker. She is quiet and very sensitive. Toni’s a doer, confident, always jumping in with both feet. Rosie is frighteningly intelligent, and learns easily, while Toni is sporty, a tomboy, fearless and keen to try everything.’ He gestured to the first-aid kit he had brought. ‘That’s nothing to do with being a doctor, that’s knowing we can rarely go anywhere without Toni getting into some scrape or another.’

  ‘You have nicknames for them…what do they mean?’

  Luca chuckled, and the sound seemed to vibrate down her spine, making her tingle. ‘Rosie, quiet but also very inquisitive, became topolino, or little mouse. Toni, always on the go and often leaving chaos in her wake, became trottola, meaning spinning top or, sometimes terremoto—earthquake,’ he explained, the love and affection so clear in his voice squeezing her heart.

  Polly smiled, touched by his love for the girls and interested in his insight about their individual characters, probably the reason he never seemed to dress them in copycat outfits. He looked horrified when she said as much.

  ‘Never. They aren’t toys or clones of each other. Each has her own taste. Occasionally they’ll pick the same thing, usually in a different colour, but less often the older they get.’

  ‘What about hobbies?’ she asked, taking the muffins and cookies she had made out of her bag and adding them to the spread, automatically taking the wallet and keys Luca handed her for safekeeping and zipping them into a pocket in her canvas bag.

  Luca leaned back on one elbow, half-turned towards her, and she struggled not to stare at his impressive physique—again. ‘Rosie likes her soft toys, dressing up and anything to do with fairies! Toni is good with her hands and likes being on the go outside. Sometimes there’s a squabble, but they get on well. And they’re both mischievous. I wanted them to know their Italian heritage, so they’ve been bilingual from the outset. But it can cause problems,’ he admitted with a heartstoppingly sexy chuckle that lodged the breath in her chest.

  ‘How come?’

  ‘They quickly learned they can speak Italian to each other and most people can’t understand. I try to stop them doing it. And it’s very embarrassing if they say something cheeky to a teacher—especially if the person does understand!’ he confessed, making her laugh. ‘Together, they have a lot of interests they share…a love of books, Disney films, dancing and, most especially, animals. In fact—’

  He broke off, his gaze returning to the girls as they played with Foxy. ‘What?’ Polly prompted, watching them, too.

  ‘They’ve been pestering me about a dog. I’m weakening.’ He sighed and shook his head, his smile wry. ‘They can wrap me round their little fingers!’

  Polly sighed, too, the knot of pain fisting inside her as her gaze was drawn inexorably to the two small girls running and laughing on the sand. She was unable to watch them without thinking about her own lost daughter. Would she have been advanced for her age, outgoing and adventurous like Toni, or thoughtful and sensitive like Rosie? She jumped as Luca caught her chin and turned her to face him.

  ‘Why does looking at my children make you so sad, zingarella?’

  Polly could only stare at him in stunned disbelief, affected by the soft huskiness of his words and by his scary insight. She shook her head, panic rising inside her. She wasn’t ready to talk about it—wasn’t sure she ever would be. But…

  Thankfully, she was saved from answering as a warning shout alerted them to a miskick that sent the football sailing through the air over their heads. Foxy came charging by
, missing the picnic food but bumping into Polly, knocking her off balance and toppling her into Luca. He caught her, strong arms wrapping protectively around her, and Polly experienced several moments of suspended animation, the world around them fading away, all her awareness centred on Luca. His heady, sexy scent teased her nostrils. Her traitorous fingers lingered, assessing and savouring the textures of smooth warm skin, firm muscles and the surprisingly soft dark hair on his chest.

  The overriding impression was of strength, of maleness and of intense sexual longing as the customary electricity arced between them. Unfathomable dark eyes looked into hers and she feared he would read her reaction to him and recognise her body’s desire. Embarrassed, she tried to push away, but it seemed ages before Luca finally loosened his hold. He helped her upright but still didn’t release her, his hands moving from her shoulders to glide down her back.

  ‘Are you all right?’

  The sultry, intimate tone of his voice played havoc with her resolve, but somehow Polly nodded. ‘I’m fine. It was nothing.’ Which was a monstrous lie.

  She was supremely conscious of his touch, which branded her even through her clothes. Her body was pressed against his, and while she never wanted to move, she knew she had to. She was scared—of so many things. And this couldn’t happen. She couldn’t let it. Again she made an effort to withdraw from him, grateful when the twins came running up, closely followed by the adults, everyone talking, apologising and laughing at once, and checking she was OK.

  Polly sensed Luca’s frustration and heard his soft curse as she shifted to put some distance between them.

  ‘No damage done,’ Polly reassured them, her smile overbright.

  As everyone sat down, eager to satisfy the hunger they had worked up for lunch, Polly could only think of a different kind of hunger…her own for Luca. A hunger she feared would continue to grow and which she could never risk assuaging.