The Impatient Groom

by Sara Wood

  ‘Are you ready to go?’ he murmured.

  She arched an eyebrow. ‘Depends. If I have- to climb up the hotel rubbish chute, I need notice, a rope and a crampon or two.’

  He leant forward and kissed her on the mouth, his eyes laughing at her look of astonished delight. ‘Nothing so alarming. I’ve just organised a hide-away—a furnished flat for us to rent nearby. Let’s check it out and make ourselves comfortable for the night.’

  Her jaw dropped. ‘But... our things are at the hotel!’ she protested.

  ‘They’re being packed right this minute. A porter will bring them over,’ he said airily, guiding her out and drawing her close for warmth in the still, cool night. ‘This way. It’s not far. Better than a hotel surrounded by the press, don’t you think?’

  ‘But it’s nearly midnight! No flat agency can possibly be open—’

  ‘The hotel manager pulled strings for me. Here we are.’

  He had stopped outside a wonderful Georgian building overlooking a small square. Dazed, she followed him up the broad stone steps and waited while he rang a bell. A deferential young woman, about her own age but beautifully dressed and coiffed, opened the door and showed them around the enormous, ground-floor apartment.

  It must cost an arm and a leg! Sophia thought. No. Two arms, two legs and an entire torso.

  ‘I put some basic foods in the fridge as you suggested,’ the woman purred, standing far too close to Rozzano.

  Hating the woman’s blatant invitation, Sophia pretended indifference by wandering into the huge stainlesssteel kitchen to check out the giant larder fridge. Oh, yes. The usual stuff. Basic groceries. Champagne, caviare, quail and raspberries!

  ‘Will it do?’ Rozzano asked, appearing at the door.

  She eyed him in mock exasperation. ‘Not my brand of caviare, but—’

  ‘Will it do?’ he repeated, his stern frown ruined by the laughter tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  ‘We have to sleep somewhere. It’s too late to try anywhere else,’ she said grudgingly.

  Rozzano exhaled as if in relief, then came forward and kissed her softly on the mouth. The doorbell rang, making her jump, and they drew apart.

  ‘Your luggage has arrived,’ the agency woman announced. ‘And would you sign the documents?’

  ‘Shan’t be a moment,’ he promised Sophia. He pressed her hand. ‘We’ll be alone soon.’

  What had he meant by that? As he went back into the drawing room, he turned and gave her a sultry, meaningful look which totally unnerved her. He couldn’t be thinking of... No! It was impossible!

  Sophia took several deep breaths. She could make a pot of tea, unpack, or let her bones melt into the floor. Close to surrendering to the latter, she supervised the moving of her case into one of the large double bedrooms. The maid who’d brought the luggage insisted on unpacking for her.

  Sophia was startled to see that the designer outfits, shoes and gorgeous underwear had been mistakenly ineluded. She’d have to speak to Rozzano about that, she thought uncomfortably.

  The maid left. Feeling edgy about Rozzano’s intentions, Sophia returned to the drawing room and slid back the heavy brocade curtains to stare out at the little park across the street. Typical of London’s Georgian squares, it looked mysterious and magical in the light of the old street lanterns.

  The outer door closed. She heard the sound of his footsteps coming slowly, relentlessly towards her and she went rigid, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

  Had he set her up to continue what they’d started? She went cold, fearing he expected them to finish the day with a bedtime romp. But, as much as she secretly desired him, her principles were too ingrained for casual sex.

  She’d tell him she was tired. Do a yawn or two. Say she felt sick, had mumps, cholera—anything to keep him at bay.

  But... Her brow furrowed. Why had he been so attentive? She was far too ordinary. In the course of the day they’d passed a hundred women who were sexier, better groomed, more beautiful.

  She froze, her eyes darkening with dismay. There could be another reason. During the river trip, he’d told her that some rich people became easily bored and jaded. They searched, he’d said, carefully watching her, for something or someone to amuse them.

  A shiver ran down her spine. She’d thought he’d been warning her—but... Maybe he was preparing her and letting her know that she wasn’t important to him, just fun, just different and an entertaining little episode in his life.

  He paused right behind her and her breathing stopped altogether with fear. Disappointment flooded through her whole body. Her respect for Rozzano plunged. A wonderful day would be spoiled, a friendship would hit the dust. And she realised how much she’d been relying on him to help her through the next week or so. A sob rose to her throat but she masked it with a cough.

  His hand pushed away her hair. She felt the pressure of his mouth on her bare neck and for a moment she let it stay there, her eyes closing in pained delight. Then she moved a fraction—but her action brought Rozzano’s lips to her ear, which he nibbled so delicately that her whole body went into pleasurable paralysis.

  ‘I lied to you when I said I enjoyed the river trip the most today,’ he whispered.

  Focussed on the sensations flashing through her and the bewildering immobility of her limbs, she dragged in a ragged breath to protest at his familiarity. ‘Rozzano—!’

  ‘Best of all,’ he growled, slowly turning her helpless body around, ‘was just being with you. Touching you. Holding you.’ The darkness of his eyes blazed briefly with a fierce light and then became a fathomless black again. ‘If I’m not careful, Sophia,’ he muttered, ‘I‘11 be falling in love with you.’

  His mouth covered hers as it opened in blank astonishment and it was warm and moist, more voluptuous and arousing than anything she’d ever known. The kiss went on for ever and she knew to her consternation that she was utterly, fatally attracted to him and she wanted him . to fall in love more than anything in the world. And yet she knew that almost certainly she would regret her infatuation—and any surrender she might make.

  ‘Goodnight, Sophia,’ he whispered, his breath sweet and tantalising on her lips. And before she’d jerked herself out of her stunned stupor he had gone.

  During the next few days he overcame her doubts every time he touched her. She knew how stupid that was, but she couldn’t stop herself from responding.

  Together for every wonderful second from breakfast to bedtime, they behaved as lovers, laughing, chatting, or sharing long and happy silences and content to be in one another’s company. But at night they went to their separate beds after long and searching embraces which left her feeling empty and frustrated, furious and desperately cheated.

  As they walked back to the flat one afternoon, after exploring Dickens’ London, she fell silent, knowing that she was falling in love. Yet in her heart of hearts she knew that he wasn’t really serious about their relationship. It could only be an amusing fling, one he’d describe to his friends. There was no mileage in it and she’d get hurt.

  Then they rounded a corner and came face to face with a crowd of assorted photographers and journalists.

  ‘They’ve found us!’ she wailed.

  Rozzano’s arms came protectively around her as he tried to push a way through. Cameras flashed and they were bumped and barged as photographers crouched to get a shot of their faces and reporters thrust microphones at them.

  ‘Oy! Give us a break!’

  ‘Sophia! Over here! Sophia!’

  ‘You two shacking up together?’

  She felt defiled, suffocated, and absolutely terrified. They were completely surrounded by jostling bodies. Gasping with fear, she looked around and saw staring, avid eyes and open, yelling mouths. Strangers shouted her name. Hands grabbed at her. She felt an elbow in her ribs, heard herself grunt with pain and then came Rozzano’s furious roar as he surged through them all, his sudden charge driving the two of them relentlessly to
the door and the safety beyond.

  At last she heard the door slam and collapsed in relief. Whimpering with frustrated anger at her feebleness, she let Rozzano carry her to her bed and revive her with a stiff brandy. He drew up a chair and sat close to her while her huge eyes stared at him in mute despair.

  She lay there shuddering. ‘It was like a pack of dogs hunting down deer,’ she said in horror. ‘And for what end? A page or two of gossip!’

  The pack was still outside, making an awful racket. Fearfully she looked towards the curtained window, wishing she could drive them all away.

  His fingers traced the faint bruises which were beginning to show on her skin, where she’d been pulled this way and that ‘I’m sorry.’ Gently he kissed the scratch on her arm, made by someone’s metal watch-strap.

  She drew in a shaky little breath. ‘Not your fault. It was awful. I don’t want to go through that ever again!’

  ‘I know,’ he soothed, stroking her cold, clammy forehead. ‘We can’t go on like this, Sophia,’ he said sternly. ‘It has to end.’

  End! She drew in a long, harsh breath of anguish. She wanted to catch him to her, to demand that he never left, but she managed to stop herself.

  Her stomach muscles clenched convulsively. This was it. ‘Yes,’ she said dully.

  ‘Good. I’ll arrange for us to go to Venice tomorrow,’ he said in a soft undertone.

  Startled, she lowered her gaze. He wanted it to continue, then, to enjoy the novelty of seeing his city through her eyes. No. She wouldn’t let him encourage her to amuse him and then dump her when she ceased to entertain him with her quaint country ways!

  With great dignity, she sat up. ‘You go. I’ve decided...’ It had started well, but the words had stuck in her throat. Breathing quickly, her face as white as chalk, she forced herself to say what she must, speaking in a toneless babble. ‘I think we should go our separate ways.’

  ‘What?’ he exclaimed in amazement

  She hurried on. ‘There’s no reason for me to stay in London now the press know where we are.’

  He stared, his face paling visibly. ‘No!’ he objected beneath his breath.

  ‘It’s the most sensible solution. I’m going home. I’ll get to Venice in my own time—’

  He stood up sharply, his chair crashing over. She stared at him in surprise because he looked...shattered. Her heart stopped and then fluttered erratically.

  ‘You can’t go!’ he muttered thickly. Then he shook his head, as if clearing it—and as if he too was astonished by what he’d said. She stared at him in shock, unable to comprehend the devastation in his eyes.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked faintly.

  ‘It’s perfectly simple! I mean I don’t want to be parted from you!’

  His impassioned voice had shaken with emotion. It was as if she’d delivered a bombshell and he was reeling from its blast. For the first time, she began to believe that he cared for her and she felt a surge of hope fill her with a dangerous joy.

  He sat down on the bed and pulled her to him, a wonderful, urgent determination in every line of his face. ‘I want you!’ he muttered forcefully. ‘No. Don’t say anything. We don’t need words. To hell with them!’

  He was going to kiss her. Crushing her alarming joy, she held him at bay, her hands pressing hard against his chest.

  ‘We hardly know one another. You can’t feel that strongly—!’

  ‘I know I can’t! It’s madness. But I do!’ he growled.

  Her protest was muffled by the fierce pressure of his mouth. She felt herself being driven back, the softness of the bed meeting her spine while the hardness of his body and the feverish whispering in her ear made her resistance disintegrate into a million pieces. There was nothing she could do to stop him; all her will-power had gone beneath the onslaught of his desperate passion, the raw need in his eyes, his body, his searching, oh, so cruelly tormenting hands!

  Seconds passed, or minutes—she didn’t know. His need was so desperate that it totally overwhelmed her. They were locked together, their hands frantically clutching, mouths devouring.

  He murmured that he wouldn’t ever hurt her because he cared for her. Respected her values, admired her principles. He thought she was beautiful, funny, adorable, wise, clever, intelligent... The words flowed into her in a hot, passionate stream, destroying all her defences.

  Because she felt the same about him.

  How could she resist such an assault on her senses? His heart raced and pounded against her breast as they clung to one another convulsively. She had been close to losing him and her only instinct was to kiss him breathless, to grip his shoulders with all her strength as if in some way that might release the pent-up misery she’d been harbouring.

  ‘I want to touch you, feel you, breathe you in through every pore...’

  Mindless now, awash with pure happiness, she made no murmur when he slowly—oh, too slowly!—slid away her clothes. When he touched her, letting his fingers drift tentatively down the curves of her body, his expression of sweet anguish reached into her with a shattering force.

  She was naked now, his lips setting her flesh on fire, the depth of his desire so heart-wrenchingly intoxicating that she wantonly encouraged him. Slowly he let his fingers trail to her thighs. And then he bent his head.

  Sophia gave a hoarse cry, her body bucking in shocked pleasure. ‘Rozzano, no!’ she croaked in panic.

  His deeply intimate kiss filled her entire consciousness. She groaned, wanting the soft melting inside her to go on and on, hungry for its vibrating warmth as it spread through her body. She was gasping, dizzy with hunger, unable to stop herself from writhing on the tangled sheets in hot desire. Whimpers escaped from her panting mouth, her fingers tightening feverishly in his silky hair and sliding down to dig into his powerful shoulders.

  It was an exquisite sweet pain that he was inflicting and he too seemed to feel it, his body trembling on hers. As her nerves strained to breaking point, he raised his head. Every inch of her shook at the burning force of his passion, the savage desire that had to be sated. She could hardly breathe.

  And then his lips enclosed her again, his tongue gently, delicately creating havoc in the whole of her heart and soul and mind till she didn’t care about anything, only the release of her long-suppressed need. Crying his name, begging him not to stop, she clung to him, delighting in his lovemaking, adoring him, wanting him to love her.

  Except...he hadn’t said those words she longed to hear.

  There had been no commitment. Of course there hadn’t. And so sex was out of the question.

  With a despairing groan, she pushed him away, even though her body screamed at her for doing so.

  ‘Wait! No!’ she wailed, trying to sit up.

  His arm hooked her back to him. ‘Please, Sophia!’ he said thickly. ‘You can’t—‘

  ‘I can!’ she cried wildly, fighting him, beating at his chest. ‘Please, Rozzano! I—’

  Tears welled up in her eyes. How could she tell him that she wouldn’t let any man be truly intimate with her unless he was her husband? You didn’t mention the ‘H’ word a few days after meeting a man, ‘she thought hysterically.

  ‘Santa Maria!’ he muttered, holding her fast. ‘Don’t you understand? I want you—’

  ‘And I want you too! But that’s not enough for me!’ she sobbed. ‘Let me go! I’m sorry I didn’t stop you before but—’

  ‘You didn’t let me finish!’ he muttered thickly.

  Rozzano’s grip eased and he slid her neatly alongside his body, still keeping her within the circle of his strong arms. He was panting, his breath hot and rasping on her naked shoulder. Sophia quivered from the sensation and bit her lip. It was her fault. She should have called a halt much earlier. But she’d wanted him so much.

  ‘You mustn’t finish,’ she mumbled desperately.

  ‘I meant,’ he said drily, ‘you didn’t let me finish what I had to say—’

  ‘You can’t persuade me!’
Squirming in embarrassment, she summoned up the courage to say, ‘I—I don’t believe in full sex outside marriage, Rozzano.’

  His thumb gently but firmly tipped up her chin. ‘But I never intended to go that far,’ he told her gravely. ‘For a moment I forgot who you were, what I was doing—everything. I don’t know where I was. Paradise, I think. Forgive me. I’ve never...’ He scowled, perplexed. ‘I lost control.’

  ‘Explain to me where I stand with you. I’m not used to flirting and—and intimacy,’ she told him, her cheeks flushed to a dark rose. ‘You may think it’s normal to seduce a woman after a few dinners but—’

  ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t. That’s not my way. You’re the first woman...’ He lowered his eyes and it was a moment or two before he had composed himself again and could look at her. ‘I’m bewildered by what has happened to me,’ he said. ‘We’ve only known one another for a short time, although we’ve been together for almost every hour of the day. It’s been an unbelievably intense experience for me—’

  ‘And me,’ she admitted in a small voice, summoning up the courage to stick to her decision, whatever excuse he came up with.

  He smiled at her wary, tear-stained face and touched her pouting mouth with an affectionate finger. ‘You’ve made one hell of an impact on me. I’ve never met anyone like you—never knew someone could be so perfect, so special.’

  Sophia maintained the rigidity of her body. Words, she thought in distress. That was all they were.

  ‘Over the past few days you’ve brought me to life,’ he went on softly, caressing her face with wondering fingers. ‘Until I met you, I was wrapped up in my grief. At first you made me laugh, made me feel relaxed and happy. Then...’

  He swallowed. His tongue slipped around his lips and Sophia gazed at him, unable to breathe for tension. ‘Then?’

  ‘Then I knew something special was happening between us,’ he said with restrained passion. These past few days have been wonderful. I never, ever want them to end.’