The Ultimate Risk

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The Ultimate Risk Page 10

by Chantelle Shaw


  Lanzo could not hold back. The pleasure of feeling her body convulse around his throbbing shaft was too exquisite to bear, and he climaxed seconds after her, tensing for a few seconds as he tried to hold back the tide before he was overwhelmed, and then shuddering with the mind-blowing intensity of his release.

  For long moments they lay, still joined, their mutual urgent need appeased for now, their bodies relaxing in the honeyed afterglow of lovemaking. It had never been like this with Simon—not even in those early days of their marriage when she had been sure that she loved him, Gina brooded. She had only ever felt this complete union, as if their souls as well as their bodies were one, with Lanzo.

  But she did not kid herself that he felt the same way. He was a skilled and considerate lover who had taken her to the heights of ecstasy, but now, as he rolled off her, she sensed that his withdrawal was not only physical.

  Should she get up and go back to her own bed? she wondered as she lay next to him, the silence between them broken by the sound of heavy rain lashing the windows. Some time during their frantic lovemaking the storm outside had broken, but she had been so swept away by passion that she had not even noticed. She pushed back the sheet, but as she eased away from him he curved his arm around her waist and pulled her up against his chest.

  ‘Where are you going?’ he growled, nuzzling the sensitive spot behind her ear so that she could not restrain a little shiver of pleasure.

  ‘I was going to return to my room.’

  Her answer should have pleased him, Lanzo brooded. He rarely spent the whole night with his lovers for once his physical needs had been satisfied he had no further need of them.

  Through the open curtains the black sky was suddenly lit up by a jagged lightning bolt, and seconds later a deep rumble of thunder reverberated around the room, drowning briefly the sound of torrential rain. The storm had faded for a while, but now it was back to vent the full force of its fury.

  The fire that had destroyed his parents’ villa had raged out of control long before the rain had finally fallen during that devastating storm fifteen years ago. Perhaps if the heavens had opened as dramatically they had done tonight the flames might have been quenched and his parents and Cristina would have escaped, Lanzo thought heavily.

  He did not want to be alone with his thoughts tonight. Ten years ago he had found solace and a few weeks of unexpected happiness with a shy young English waitress. He had never spoken to Gina about his past, but her gentle nature had soothed his ragged emotions, and when they had made love he had delighted in her unrestrained pleasure. Gina had made him forget briefly the pain inside him—and tonight he wanted to lie in her arms and focus on her silken skin and her soft, curvaceous body.

  She had her own demons, too. Raw anger flared inside him as he thought of her brutal ex-husband. The fact that Simon had been an alcoholic did not excuse his behaviour, Lanzo thought savagely. He could not dismiss the image of her terrified face when she had stumbled into his arms, the horrors of her nightmare clearly evident in her eyes. He could not allow her to return to her room and perhaps be plagued once more by bad dreams. He wanted to hold her so that she felt safe for the rest of the night.

  ‘Stay,’ he murmured, trapping her against him by hooking his thigh over hers. Her bottom felt delightfully soft beneath his fingertips as he traced its rounded contours, before sliding his hands up to cup her breasts, and he heard her swiftly indrawn breath when he gently played with her nipples. He trailed one hand down over her flat stomach and slipped it between her thighs.

  ‘Lanzo …?’

  He ignored her breathless protest and carefully parted her womanhood, sliding his fingers between the slick folds and caressing her with delicate strokes that made her gasp and move restlessly against him.

  ‘This is all for you, cara,’ he whispered in her ear, when she attempted to turn round so that he could enter her.

  Gina gave a little cry of pleasure when his clever fingers found her ultra-sensitive clitoris. She wanted him to share the experience, but he seemed determined to give her the ultimate in sexual enjoyment while unselfishly denying himself. The pleasure was too intense to withstand, and she sobbed his name as he took her to the edge, held her there, teetering on the brink, and then with a final stroke sent her tumbling over, holding her secure in his arms.

  Afterwards he rearranged the pillows and settled her comfortably against him, feeling a curious tug on his heart when she gave him a sleepy smile.

  ‘I imagine your experience with Simon has put you off marriage for good?’ he murmured, unable to get the other man out of his mind.

  Gina did not answer him straight away. She thought seriously about Lanzo’s question. And discovered in those moments of contemplation that her hopes and dreams were still the same as when she had been eighteen.

  ‘No,’ she replied at last. ‘My relationship with Simon was a disaster, but I still believe in marriage. I still hope that one day I’ll meet the right person for me, just as Nonna Ginevra met my grandfather, and fall in love and marry again.’ Her voice faltered a little. ‘Have a family …’ Maybe she would not be able have a baby of her own, but there were thousands of children who needed parents, and she would definitely consider adoption.

  ‘I believe that just because something didn’t go the way you planned it once, it’s no reason not to try again,’ she told Lanzo.

  The expression in his green eyes was unfathomable. ‘So you aren’t afraid of having your heart broken again? ‘

  By the time she had left Simon he had killed all her feeling for him, and the only emotion she had felt was relief that her marriage was over. There was only one man who had ever broken her heart, but wild horses would not drag the truth from her that that man had been Lanzo.

  ‘Of course there’s a risk that that could happen, but what is the alternative? To never allow myself to get close to anyone ever again? Never know the joy of loving someone for fear that it could end in tears? My heart might stay safe, but it wouldn’t be much of a life.’

  She paused, and then asked diffidently, ‘Are you really content with your life, Lanzo? I know you have plenty of affairs, and technically you are never on your own when there is always another attractive blonde willing to share your bed, but I sense that you are alone,’ she said softly. ‘You don’t seem to care about anyone.’

  Lanzo had stiffened while she was speaking. There was a good reason why he refused to allow himself to get too close to anyone, he brooded. He remembered the savage pain that had ripped through him when he had been told that Cristina was dead—the disbelief that had turned to gut-wrenching agony when he had stared at the charred remains of his parents’ house and realised that no one could have escaped such carnage. He never wanted to feel that kind of pain again, or sink to such depths of despair as he had in the months after the fire, when he had seriously wondered whether life was worth living without the woman he had loved. Fifteen years on he had forged a new life, and for the most part it was good. But he did not want to fall in love again.

  ‘I like my life the way it is,’ he admitted. ‘I go where I please, when I please, and I answer to no one.’

  He had not told her anything she did not already know, Gina acknowledged, trying to ignore the little pang his words had evoked. She had always known that Lanzo was essentially a loner—a man perfectly at ease in a crowd, but equally content with his own company.

  How long would their affair last? A week? Months? she wondered, trying not to dwell on the inevitability of its ending.

  She felt the need to take some control. Once his usual

  PA returned to work, their professional and personal relationship would come to an end, she vowed. Their relationship could never be more than a brief interlude, and as long as she guarded her heart against him she would be content with that, she assured herself. For now she would enjoy every moment she spent with him, and she smiled as he drew her close and she felt the soft brush of his lips on hers.

  CHAPTER SEVE
N

  THEY extended their stay in St Tropez for a few more days, spending lazy hours on the beach, and long nights of passionate lovemaking before falling asleep in each other’s arms. Even in the early days of her marriage she had never felt this sense of completeness, Gina thought when she woke before Lanzo one morning, and lay studying his face. It seemed softer in sleep, reminding her of the younger man she had known ten years ago. Unable to resist, she leaned over him and brushed her mouth softly over his, stirring him so that he closed his arms around her and deepened the kiss into an evocative caress that tugged on her soul.

  But it was not long before reality intruded. Lanzo’s intention to fly back to Italy, to his home in Positano, was dramatically changed by news that the Di Cosimo restaurant in New York had been badly damaged by a fire.

  ‘Arrange for the jet to collect us from Toulon-Hyres airport and take us direct to JFK,’ he instructed Gina, after he had relayed the information he had received in a phone call from the manager of the restaurant.

  ‘Has the restaurant been badly damaged?’ she asked, remembering that the New York branch had recently undergone a major refit.

  ‘I understand it’s been gutted.’ Lanzo shrugged. ‘But thankfully no one was injured in the blaze, and that’s all that matters.’

  Twenty-four hours after the fire, Gina stared around at the blackened walls and roof beams of the restaurant and shivered, despite the midday heat in New York. The fire had been caused by an electrical fault, and the damage was extensive—but, as Lanzo had said, thankfully every one of the diners and staff had escaped safely.

  ‘Daniel Carter said he couldn’t believe how quickly the flames took hold,’ she said to Lanzo, after she had chatted with the restaurant manager who was clearly still in shock.

  She glanced at him when he made no reply. From the moment they had arrived at what remained of the restaurant his expression had been unfathomable, but now he removed his sunglasses and she was shaken by the bleakness in his eyes.

  ‘Fire is so appallingly destructive,’ he said harshly. ‘It consumes everything in its path and shows no mercy as it reduces everything to this.’ As he spoke he kicked a pile of black ash, seemingly uncaring that his actions sent a cloud of choking soot into the air which fell back down and settled on his clothes.

  Frowning at his obvious tension, Gina placed her hand on his arm. ‘I know it’s a terrible shame, but one of the fire crew told me that there is little actual structural damage, and although it looks like Armageddon the restaurant can be cleaned and redecorated.’

  He gave a curious laugh. ‘Sure—everything will be made shiny and bright again, and it will be as if the fire never happened.’

  ‘Well, that would be good, wouldn’t it?’ she said slowly, trying to assess his mood. ‘Six months from now the fire will be forgotten.’

  Lanzo shook his head and moved away from her, so that her hand fell helplessly to her side. ‘Some things can never be forgotten,’ he muttered obliquely. ‘Some memories haunt you for ever.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He swung to face her, his sunglasses back in place so that she had no clue to his thoughts. He seemed to give himself a mental shake and smiled at her, although she sensed that the smile did not reach his eyes. ‘I’m talking rubbish, cara. It was just a shock to see how much damage the fire has caused. We’ll go back to the hotel now. You must be feeling jet-lagged.’

  Maybe Lanzo was feeling the effects of their frantic dash to the US and the six-hour time difference, Gina mused that night, when for the first time since they had become lovers he did not reach for her, but simply bade her goodnight and rolled onto his side of the vast hotel bed.

  He was distant and preoccupied for the next few days, and when he did make love to her again the sex was urgent, and as mind-blowing as ever, but it lacked the intimacy that she had felt between them in St Tropez.

  He soon returned to his usual charismatic self, but she sensed an edge of darkness beneath his easy charm which reminded her of how he had been when he had come to Poole ten years ago. Not for the first time she suspected that there were events in his past that he did not want to talk about.

  They remained in New York for two weeks, while Lanzo dealt with the after-effects of the fire. On the Sunday before they were due to leave, Gina woke to find that he was already up and dressed.

  ‘I’m spending the day out of town—a little place about sixty miles east of the city, near to the coast. Do you want to come?’

  She pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked at him blearily, wondering how he could be so wide awake after a night of energetic sex and very little sleep. ‘Okay.’ It was stiflingly hot in town, and she liked the idea of a cool coastal breeze. ‘When do you want to leave?’

  ‘Twenty minutes.’ He grinned at her dismayed expression. ‘But I suppose that, seeing as I kept you busy for much of the night, I can give you half an hour.’

  Two hours later Gina glanced around the flat airfield and then back at Lanzo. ‘You seriously mean you’ve come here to skydive?’

  ‘Certainly, cara,’ he replied, looking amused at her horrified expression. ‘Nothing beats throwing yourself out of a plane at ten thousand feet. I’m an experienced skydiver, and I can take you for a tandem jump if you like.’

  ‘I’ll give it a miss, thanks. I value my life.’ She removed her sunglasses and gave him a searching look. ‘Powerboat racing, skydiving, that super-powered motorbike you were telling me you keep in Positano—sometimes I get the feeling that you don’t value yours, Lanzo.’

  His own shades were firmly in place, disguising his thoughts, and he shrugged laconically. ‘Life is more fun when it contains an element of risk, and I don’t fear death.’

  ‘No …’ She sensed that was true. ‘What you fear is allowing anyone to get too close.’ She was frustrated that she only knew the man he allowed her to see, and that he never revealed his innermost thoughts to her. ‘You don’t mind risking your physical safety, but you refuse to put your emotional security in danger.’

  She knew from the way his jaw tightened that she had pushed him too far. ‘You don’t know what I feel,’ he said harshly. ‘Do me a favour and keep your psychobabble to yourself, Gina,’ he growled impatiently, and strode off towards the jump-plane waiting on the runway.

  The following weeks were a hectic blur of planes, hotels, and occasionally brief trips to famous landmarks in whichever part of the world they happened to be in as they crisscrossed the globe, visiting various Di Cosimo restaurants and the new cookery schools which had proved to be a hugely successful project for the company.

  Los Angeles, Dubai, Hong Kong, and Sydney blended into a kaleidoscope of images in Gina’s head. She’d accompanied Lanzo to lavish parties, charity fundraising dinners, and the launch of his latest restaurant which had opened in Paris. Her previous job for the global retail outlet Meyers meant that she was no stranger to travel and socialising, and she was thankful that she had acquired a wardrobe of classic designer clothes which were now invaluable for her role as Lanzo’s PA.

  But while her smart work suits and elegant evening gowns were mainly from her days at Meyers, her night-wear was new—and bought for her by Lanzo. Skimpy lace negligees, delicate silk chemises, pretty bras, and matching thongs … Lanzo happily scoured lingerie shops for exotic and erotic underwear which he demanded that she model for him and then delighted in removing. Their desire for one another—far from waning as the weeks slipped past—was more intense than ever, and they made love with an insatiable hunger that left Gina secretly shocked by her unreserved response to Lanzo’s bold demands.

  And now at last they were in Positano, on the stunning Amalfi Coast, being driven by Lanzo’s chauffeur along narrow roads with terrifying hairpin bends and spectacular views over an azure sea and the jagged rocky landscape.

  Thank heavens Lanzo was not behind the wheel, Gina thought as she glanced out of the window at a hillside that fell in an almost sheer
drop from the edge of the road down to the sea. She recalled those nerve-racking journeys in his car years ago, when he had driven her back to her father’s farm after her she had finished her shift at the restaurant in Poole. If he were driving now they would no doubt be hurtling around the bends. Lanzo’s love of danger had not changed, she thought ruefully. But their relationship was different from their brief affair when she had been eighteen; she was different—older, hopefully wiser, and determined that she would not give in to the clamour of her heart and fall in love with him again.

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she murmured, awed by the picturesque view over the town. Dozens of terracotta-roofed houses clung to the cliffs which rose up majestically behind them, and in front of the houses the sea stretched into the far horizon, as flat and still as a lake, and crystal-clear.

  ‘It’s the most beautiful place in the world,’ Lanzo agreed, his hard features softening a little as he drank in the familiar sights of the area where he had grown up. ‘Around the next bend you will see my home—the Villa di Sussurri.’

  ‘The villa of whispers,’ Gina translated. ‘Why is it called that?’

  He looked away from her and stared at the sea, surprised by his strong urge to reveal that it was because he sometimes felt that he could hear the voices of his parents and Cristina in the house, speaking softly to him.

  ‘No particular reason. I simply liked the name,’ he said with a shrug.

  ‘It’s not what I was expecting,’ Gina admitted a few minutes later, when the car swung onto a gravel driveway and halted outside the villa.

  ‘You don’t like it?’

  ‘Oh, no—it’s breathtaking,’ she assured Lanzo hurriedly. ‘I just assumed that it would be an old house, built of local stone, like the houses in Positano.’ Instead the Villa di Sussurri was square and ultra-modern, built on several levels, its brilliant white walls making a stunning contrast to the vivid blue sky above and the sapphire sea below.

 

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