by Dora Bramden
The hornets settled down, he wasn’t ashamed of her. “I told you, I’m not going to live in Italy with you.”
“Can’t you let a sick old lady see her grandson? Does Alex have a passport?”
That Signora Rinaldo hadn’t known Katrina and Alessandro had married explained her neglect of Katrina. Whatever Alessandro’s reasons for keeping that secret from his mother she would uncover eventually. If she wanted to get to the bottom of this, she needed to go to Italy and meet her mother-in-law.
She loved her own grandmother so much. Gran had been the stable center of an unstable world her artist parents moved in. Alex’s grandmother had asked for her grandson which showed family was important to her. Katrina wanted Alex to have the chance to know her. She’d deal with Alessandro later.
“Yes he does have a passport. I got one for him so I’d have the option to take him with me on tour. I have the week off the physio has ordered for my knee to recover. I can do the prescribed exercises while I’m away. As long as I’m allowed to fly, we’ll go for one week but Alex and I have to come back.”
“I’ll make the arrangements. So I’ll go now and leave you to pack.” He stepped back but paused for a moment. He leaned back in, grasped her waist and pulled her up against him. His lips passionately locked with hers. Her body lit from within like a sparkler and she held onto his toned shoulders. He groaned and released her.
“Thank you.”
She watched, half dazed as he disappeared back into the lane and the waiting limo.
The flight from Tullamarine to Malpensa had been very long. Little Alex’s head lolled to one side in his car seat. Every now and then he gave a little start, his fingers splaying like star fish momentarily then he’d settle back into sleep. Alessandro could have got on his knees and praised Dio that his son was finally asleep. Even though they’d traveled in the spacious first class pods on the A380 they’d had a trying time. Alex’s toddler ears had given him trouble and his crying had echoed around the pod. No matter what Katrina did, it only pacified him for short periods of time.
Katrina had dark circles under her eyes. He could see them at the edges of her sunglasses. She had her eyes shut but she wasn’t asleep. Her breathing wasn’t regular enough. She’d had a terrible flight, worse than him. He’d tried to relieve her from walking up and down the aisle but his son had refused to be handed over. His little arms wrapping tightly around Katrina’s neck and his wail growing surprisingly louder.
“We’re nearly there, bella. Then you can have a good rest.”
“I just hope Alex isn’t going to start up again when we get there. He’s so overtired.”
She didn’t turn her head and look at him. He wanted to see her eyes. To know how she was reacting to being back in Italy with him. Was it as painful for her as it was for him? Emotions warred inside. He wanted to shake her for having run away and conversely hold her so tight that he could feel her next to him and never let her go again. He must be overtired himself. These feelings had created this untenable situation of his wife giving birth to a son he didn’t know of. Like a bear claw scratching inside his chest, the raw pain of what he’d missed out on gritted his teeth. “We are all of us, overtired.”
She looked at Alex. Her lips that had been in a tense line softened when she rubbed the back of her index finger along his cheek. He made the star fish movement with his hands and his body stiffened. She quickly withdrew and he settled again. “He’s mad at being thrown out of his safe routine. Poor little thing doesn’t know what’s going on.”
“He’ll be okay after a nap.”
“We have to make a stable environment for him. He has to know what to expect in his life. The alternative is… is… too troubling. I don’t want that for him.” She turned to look out the window again. “I just hope his grandmother is going to be okay.”
Alessandro might have played up how sick his mother was in order to get Katrina to agree to come to Italia, but didn’t want to add distress to her already exhausted emotions. “I called my sister from the plane. She’s out of danger now. So don’t worry.”
She breathed out a sigh. “Well that’s good news.”
In truth he’d been very relieved himself, but hadn’t imagined she would have this much concern for a woman she’d never met. An arrow of guilt left the bow. He’d been too cavalier with her feelings. She had depths he’d not imagined.
The way she put herself last every time when it was a choice between her and Alex, the way she obviously cared about his mother, told him she wasn’t the flighty woman he’d married. At least she wasn’t anymore. The good time ballet dancer who flitted through life as easily as she did across a stage and made light of every situation had been replaced by a woman of emotional depth and considered practicality. Perhaps she’d always been that woman but his idea of her had been the same as he’d imagined all women to be.
Did she think the same about him? He couldn’t blame her if she did. Hadn’t he been just the same, globetrotting and taking enormous risks on the track? His world championship bid in the car of his own design had not only secured the family fortune, but it had also settled him. The hours of commitment required for leading and coordinating a team had shifted him into a more sustainable gear. Beside him, his son sighed and shifted into a deeper sleep.
The gates of the Castello Rinaldo, his childhood home loomed above the hood of the car. They swung open and his little family passed through them into his mother’s world.
Eight
Familiar clipped box hedges flanked the drive like a guard of honor as they wound their way along. Behind them stood a row of standard roses, in full red bloom. The ancient castle came gradually into view. Alessandro’s shoulders tensed as the castle rose from the spreading lawns and parterre gardens.
His mother, dressed in a robe, stood on the top step of a grand entrance leaning on his sister, Maria’s arm. Impatience burned at this stupidity, why was she out of bed?
Alessandro bounded out of the car and in a moment was up the flight of stairs and at his mother’s side. He spoke in rapid Italian. “Maria why do you let her stand here when she was so ill? Mamma, what do you think you are doing?” He tried to take her arm and lead her inside but with surprising strength, she resisted him.
“I want to see them,” she answered in English. “You’ll shunt them off to their rooms and I won’t see them for hours. Where is he? I want to see my grandson.” She pulled her arm out of Alessandro’s grasp and held onto Maria. “Is this any way to treat your poor ill mother who hasn’t seen you for weeks?”
He assumed she was very angry with him for having kept his marriage secret but also because he’d broken his promise to her. He needed to win her with sweetness. He kissed her cheeks like a loving and dutiful son should.
“Mamma, come inside I’ll bring him to you.”
“Are you going to leave your wife to manage on her own?”
He turned. Their driver held the back door open. Katrina leaned into the back seat. Her trim and toned bottom looked like a round plum as she undid Alex’s seatbelt from his car seat. He growled under his breath. If Mamma had waited inside, he would have been doing this himself. But this was always the way with her. Always torn. Trying to keep her happy was like trying to satisfy the wind. You think you have done it but she flips and turns and leaves you wondering what you did wrong.
“Katrina, let me help you.”
She emerged from the back seat with Alex in her arms and his weighty baby bag over one elbow. She shot a worried glance that spoke volumes about not waking Alex. Alessandro arrived next to her in time to relieve her of the bag but left the sleeping Alex in her arms. Together they climbed the stairs. Katrina didn’t limp as she had been on the plane. She stopped a few feet short of his mother and half-sister.
“Katrina, let me introduce you to my mother Signora Cristina Maria Vincenza Rinaldo, and my half-sister Maria.”
Sister! Something Katrina had never known they shared. Luckily she was too tired to s
how how surprised she was. She had two half-sisters. From a young age she’d suspected that her father wasn’t the same as theirs but not found out officially until his death when she was sixteen. Ten years ago.
Before Katrina could say anything, Alessandro’s mother began. “You must call me Mamma.”
His mother’s face beamed at Katrina, and her grandchild. She put a soft hand on Alex’s head, which lay on Katrina’s shoulder. He was oblivious to the momentous occasion. Too young to know that he was arriving at his ancestral home. Too young to know that one day every blade of grass and stone in the Castello would belong to him. Katrina trembled inside at the responsibility that would one day be on her son’s shoulders. No matter what happened between her and Alessandro, she understood for the first time that Alex would one day be a wealthy man.
“My grandson.” Cristina’s hand trembled as she lifted it from Alex’s head. “I won’t wake him Katrina, don’t worry. I can see you’ve had a difficult time in more ways than one.” She spoke in English but rolled her Rs saying Katrina’s name the way Alessandro liked to pronounce it, the Italian way.
“Thank you, he needs to sleep.”
Maria said, “Come on Mamma. You’ve stood outside long enough. Let’s all go inside and rest now.”
Then she turned to Katrina. “You look exhausted and no wonder after travelling half way round the world on a moments notice. I have the nursery ready for Alex. I’ll take you there.”
Alessandro found her in the rocking chair. Alex slept in Katrina’s arms. She’d shut her eyes also. He picked up Alex and she woke up startled but relaxed when she found it was him. She lay back against the chair and let her body go limp.
Alessandro placed a whisper of a kiss the top of his son’s head, and laid him down with great care, trying not to wake him. Momentarily he enjoyed the warmth of feeling that came when he gazed at his sleeping child, his heart fuller. He turned on the baby monitor and slipped the handset in his back pocket.
Now it was his wife’s turn. Her lips pink against her pale skin and dark circles under her eyes made him want to take care of her the way she had looked after their son during the long hours of flight over half the world.
She moaned in small reluctance at being moved when he put his arm around her back and the other under her knees. He lifted her up and tutted under his breath, again unhappy with how light she was. She had been caring for Alex alone, whether that was her fault or not, no one had been taking care of her. That was going to change.
The sheets of the master bedroom had been turned down. He cupped her ankle, and took off her shoe. Her poor foot was red and covered in sores. He remembered her feet always being red and sometimes bleeding but this was especially bad from the extra work she’d been doing to return to the stage. He hissed his disapproval as he removed the other and found it was in the same state. She’d rolled onto her stomach but he tipped her on her back and slipped off her dress. She seemed to be only semi-aware of what was happening, but compliant.
In spite of his weariness, the sight of her lace underwear sent heated blood rushing south. He wanted to run his hands down her long lean body and begin a long slow appreciation of her with his mouth. But he had no interest in doing that to her while semi- comatose. He wanted her responsive, panting and hot-breathed as he kissed her nipples and other places. Steely resolve took over and he tucked the sheets up around her.
Alessandro put the baby monitor on the bedside table and undressed. He slipped between the sheets and spooned in around her. He reached for and found her hand. His own tiredness made his body feel too heavy to hold up and he sank into the soft mattress. His eyes closed.
The sun had begun to set when he woke. Katrina was murmuring in her sleep. One word was clear. “Alessandro.” He was spooning her body with his. Her bottom writhed against his groin. That part of his male anatomy had reacted while he slept and stood rigid.
He had to wake her; it was impossible to bear another minute of this exquisite torture without acting on it. “Katrina, wake up.” He whispered into her pretty little ear.
She stilled. Her supple body tensed and he sensed she was awake.
His fingers traced a line across her collar bone to her shoulder. His hand curved around her shoulder and skimmed down her arm. “Isn’t it time we made love instead of dreaming about it?”
“Yes, make love to me.” Her liquid blue eyes skimmed his face as her hand pressed his chest.
Her touch lit sparklers under his skin. His chest hurt with the need to breathe. A gasp of much-needed air rocked him. “I will, Amore.” If he didn’t make love to her now it would tear him apart. He'd been out running love, that aching need that burned him, with racing around a track at 400km an hour. But now she had put out the flames that licked his soul because she wanted him back.
Her fingers moved slowly down the middle of his body, warm desire swelled, it didn’t burn his heart, and it gave him hope.
Katrina wanted Alessandro to make love to her and never stop. His lips claimed hers and her mouth became one big pleasure receptor as his tongue luxuriantly stroked every corner.
Air moved fast in and out through her nose. He made to climb between her legs but she pushed him back and straddled him so she could control what happened next. His bare chest enticed her fingers and she ran them over his muscles. Enough looking. She pressed her aching breasts against his firm chest that rose and fell like hers with every pull of oxygen rich air.
She rotated her hips so that her private pleasure center just skimmed over his erection. Only her lace panties prevented him from slipping into that place where she wanted him so badly. Fingers fumbled at her bra strap as she welcomed his plundering tongue. Strong hands grasped her buttocks and he flipped them so that she lay under him. She didn’t mind the change in position, the reversal of control made her ache even more for him to do something decisive. He pulled her bra away and stole a look at her breasts. He sucked air through his teeth and then his assault on her mouth resumed with vigor.
Each stoke of his tongue inside her mouth brought a moan of pleasure that came all the way up from her toes. He cupped her breast and tweaked the nipple. A razor sharp pull of need speared down to her core. She gasped. He left her mouth and twisted around, taking the tip of her full breast into his mouth and sucked. She moaned and planted her fingers in his hair. “Oh Alessandro.” Each pulling kiss built a sweet tension ready to climax.
They were a perfect match in the bedroom. That had never been a problem for them. Talking about how they felt didn’t work but action, oh yes each of them was a person who liked action. And what he was doing now was drawing her back into his world, and she feared she’d have the strength to leave it again.
Years of just dreaming of this were finally over. She had woken and found it wasn’t a dream, he was there wanting to make love to her. He kicked the sheets away and moved down the bed, kissed her along the way and then through the lace of her panties, between her legs. He stripped her pants off her legs and resumed making love to her womanly center.
A fierce need throbbed beneath his lips and swelled with desire. She came close to exploding as he took it into his mouth and feasted with sucking and licking. The pleasure spread out and filled her pelvis and traveled up her spine. Her neck arched back as the impact hit her brain and her body convulsed in with orgasmic energy. His mouth was back on hers. Tasting so good. His fingers plucked at her nipples and another orgasm rocketed, like an aftershock, through her.
“Yes bella, that’s the way,” he said. His fingers moved down between her legs and plundered her throbbing wet place. She stirred again with wanting. He licked his fingers and entered her. His sliding full and aroused manhood woke a delight filled awareness of that place inside her. He moved in and out. Shivers of pleasure radiated to the corners of her body. Braced up above her, his eyes locked on hers. She closed her eyes to focus on the rubbing sensation inside her that turned her pelvis into fluid strength.
“Open your eyes. I want to se
e your pleasure.”
She did as he ordered, and his intense sexual gaze beamed down at her. Her breath and rhythm matched his as he began to plunge. Each time he went a little deeper and unlocked a new place of pleasure until her body became a chorus of uniting desires. His breath sweet and musky bathed her until he hit a spot that unlocked the purest pleasure. Just there. Oh. Yes. Just there.
He reacted immediately, small strokes quick and fast on that spot. She held her breath and the tension built, she began to shatter. She came like diving from the top of a waterfall and plunging into a deep pool.
He entered her and stroked home one, two, three times and the waterfall started again but bigger and higher.
“Ahhh, my love,” he said as his release exploded deep inside her. The waves of it reverberated through his body as she climaxed with him.
Alessandro’s love making had spent her energy once more and she sunk into a deep velvet pool of sleep.
The sound of the shower running and birds twittering opened her eyes. The early morning sun streamed in across the floor. Her body was rested but kind of sore in a good way. Alex’s baby monitor was silent. The shower turned off and Alessandro came into the bedroom with a fluffy white towel around his hips. His hair was still wet and a mussed up cacophony of curls. She remembered him like that last week in Melbourne when she burst into his hotel room. How far she’d come since then.
“Buon giorno, Signora Rinaldo.” He gave her a satisfied smile.
She returned his smile with half a one. If she didn’t feel so delicious and languid and turned on at the sight of him, she might have objected.
“Good morning and Katrina will do just fine.”
“I’m going to kiss you now, Katrina.” He jumped onto the bed and his towel fell off.
“Oh no you don’t. I’m getting up.” She slid out of the covers and stood on the far side. Her body tingled and she wanted him but they weren’t back together. Not by a long way. He was still the master of the bedroom – absolutely, no contest. Husband was still debatable. She had one week of this, and she needed a clear head. That’s why she needed to leave the bedroom now.