From Italy With Love

by Jules Wake

  When he pulled away, she felt bereft and blindly pulled him back to her, cringing inside at her neediness. He felt so right.

  He pushed her gently away.

  A pang pierced her heart. She couldn’t take another rejection. Not now.

  ‘Laurie,’ he sighed as she held on to him. His head dipped again, coming back to nibble at her lips. She sank into the mattress, pulling him with her, determined to lose herself in him. The length of his body pressed into hers. She could feel his arousal against her and urged her hips against him.

  ‘Laurie,’ he gazed down at her urgently. ‘We shouldn’t do this.’

  She closed her eyes, wanting to shut his eyes out. In the dark they were inky pools of insistence trying to instil sense into her but her libido didn’t want to listen.

  ‘Laurie,’ he whispered again, a hint of desperation in his voice, his forehead dropping to hers. She felt the touch and for a moment they both stilled, connected in a moment of silence. She was conscious of the warmth and weight of his body draped over hers, like a protective blanket, surrounding her.

  His warmth drew her in; she didn’t want to relinquish it. She savoured the touch of his forehead against hers, holding on to the moment of closeness. They stayed like that until both their hearts stopped pounding, their breathing easing.

  ‘Please don’t leave me.’

  He kissed her again on her nose this time and slid to one side, taking her with him, one arm sliding under her. He just held her, neither of them saying a word. Surprisingly, exhausted perhaps by the storm of tears, she felt herself relax and could feel herself dozing off, cocooned in Cam’s arms.

  She woke to a dual feeling of elation and dread and squeezed her eyes more tightly shut as if that might stop her from facing the day and the consequences of last night. What had she done?

  Kissing Cam had been sublime and oh so wrong. She still felt little shivers of wanton pleasure scuttle down her back at the thought of those teasing kisses, his mobile lips and strong, hard body.

  There was no movement beside her and she inched an eye open to take a look at Cam. Her heart stuttered for a moment as the memories resurfaced brilliant and golden in her head. He looked absolutely glorious, lying abandoned in sleep, the black curls spread across the pillow, his arm thrown up behind his head. Like her own personal fallen angel. Lust snaked in the pit of her stomach as she drank in the sight of him, which she immediately tamped down with a fervent sense of shame.

  Now was not the time to admit to the fierce and dazzling attraction that she’d felt from the moment she’d seen him in the church. Then, she had the protection of impossibility. A man like that wouldn’t enter her sphere. Now, everything had changed and she couldn’t deny the sizzle of fascination.

  Never in her life had she been tempted to be unfaithful to Robert. Not even considered it. Never even thought she could be capable of it. And here she was the morning after almost being unfaithful, clutching an illicit well of happiness. If Cam hadn’t put the brakes on … well, she knew exactly what would have happened.

  Shame washed over her as she thought of Robert. She really had to make a decision about him. If she genuinely cared about him, the sort of stick with forever feelings, then she wouldn’t be in bed with another man. Certainly not kissing another man, with so much enjoyment.

  ‘If you think any louder, you’ll take the roof off,’ observed Cam and she started as she realised his green eyes were studying her, the usual amused look on his face.

  Shyness gagged her and a deep blush rose up her chest suffusing her face with a rosy glow. Great, she probably looked like a complete idiot. Cam probably did this sort of thing on a regular basis, no wonder he looked so bloody relaxed. Mr I-Can-Have-Any-Woman-I-Want.

  She had no idea of post one-night-kissing etiquette, because this was surely what it was but Cam looked well-versed in it. The only thing she could do was act as casually as he was and pretend it was nothing out of the ordinary. She didn’t want him to see her lack of sophistication. She’d just brazen it out. Pretend this was perfectly normal and she could handle it.

  ‘You blush rather beautifully,’ he said huskily stretching, turning on his side and lifting himself up onto his elbow.

  Unable to help herself she stared at him, mesmerised by the promise and sleepy desire in those raw green eyes and the slow smile as he took in her flushed face and mussed hair. God she probably looked a complete sight, puffy-eyed with make up everywhere.

  Unable to say anything she couldn’t pull her eyes away from his.

  ‘You OK?’

  She nodded, swallowing hard. She could do this. Act grown up. Worldly. He probably did this all the time. It was new territory for her. Spontaneous wasn’t part of her vocabulary. Normally everything was planned. The first time she and Robert had spent the night together, it had been planned weeks in advance. A company do with a hotel room thrown in. She winced at the memory of Robert’s formality, asking if she’d mind sharing a hotel room. That was despite going out for six months and even then they hadn’t had sex. And here she was having known Cam less than a week and if hadn’t have been for him, she would have quite happily shagged the living daylights out of him. She quite liked the phrase. Truth was, she still felt horny just looking at him.

  It was just chemistry. Raging hormones leading her astray.

  What would it be like to have sex with Cam? The insistent thought needled its way into her head. This might be the only chance she ever got to find out. Which would she regret more, sleeping with him or not sleeping with him?

  His chest was lightly dusted in hair, his muscles defined. His skin deeply tanned. Further down his lean stomach a happy trail led downwards. Her mouth went dry and she blushed as she realised he was watching her intently.

  The sensible thing would be to turn back the sheets, stand up and nonchalantly walk across the room to the bathroom, with the words, ‘I’m going to take a shower,’ instead she leaned in towards him and softly planted her lips on his.

  He was a bad person. A really bad person. Taking advantage of Laurie when she was clearly confused and unhappy. Last night he’d tried really hard to do the right thing. He hadn’t meant to kiss her and still wasn’t sure where the instinct that propelled him into it had come from. The despair in her voice had sounded so wounded; he couldn’t not reach out to her, to soothe, to help.

  The catch in her voice as she tried to hold back the sob had been heart-breaking and twisted his gut in a way that he hadn’t felt for a long time. He wanted to hold her, wanted to help her. He’d only meant to reassure her, remind her that she was a special person, that she shouldn’t define herself by her mother and sister’s standards.

  Her tongue’s insistent demand had pulled a totally unexpected response from him. The desire he felt was different from anything else he’d felt before. Was that because it was tinged with guilt? Normally the women he slept with knew the score, divorced and not looking to commit anytime soon. Laurie’s sweetness, the shy hesitancy in that early kiss which then became all woman had thrown him.

  This morning was different. The stirring in his groin at the first sight of her this morning turned into a raging hard-on. Laurie felt soft and warm, smelt fragrant. This time he didn’t think he could stop. This time he didn’t want to.

  Hell, yeah, he was a bad person but with Laurie’s soft hands stroking her way downwards, he couldn’t stop his hips lifting or his hands smoothing across her nipples which were eager and ready for his attention. He kissed her with a groan. No doubt about it, he was on his way straight to hell.

  Her hair, where her head nestled into his collar bone, smelt of flowers and she felt soft and pliant. So did he. At some point the sex had tipped the needy, passionate and hungry scale. Did she feel like him? Wrung out and sated, bone-deep relaxed and incredibly content. She hadn’t said anything … well not coherent, for the last half hour. Who’d have thought she’d got such a throaty purr on her? He smirked to himself. Laurie was full of surprises but he tho
ught perhaps she’d surprised herself more.

  He heard her sigh. Uh-nuh. Here it came? The regrets and guilt. Neither of them had given a thought to good old Robert.

  She turned his arms and looked up at him, her eyes sleepy but with a very wicked twinkle in them. A hidden tiger.

  ‘Wow,’ she grinned at him. ‘I’m …’ she wrinkled her brow and he could almost see the thought processes, as her facial expressions flitted through a series of phases. What was he going to get? Doubts? Embarrassment?

  He should have known better. She had an amazing capacity to surprise him.

  He got honesty.

  ‘Wow. That was … I know I shouldn’t say this. I should be all sophisticated and cool about this but … you know I don’t do this sort of thing … well, like ever. You’re very good.’ She gave him a cheeky grin and he was amused by how pleased she was with herself. ‘Plenty of practice, I guess. Me not so much but … well that was a whole new ball …’ she giggled at her unintended innuendo, ‘… game.’ She sighed again. ‘I wondered what all the fuss was about. Thought maybe it was me. You know … being frigid.’ She winced. ‘Robert … God I shouldn’t really be mentioning him now, should I? But … that’s what he said once. So I never feel I can say no, even if I don’t you know … really feel like it … which is probably why it’s not … you know.’ She stopped and he realised embarrassment fuelled her sudden chattiness. ‘But that was …’ She gave him a candid look, and then her gaze slid in blatant approval down his torso. Her expressive face had desire stamped all over it. ‘… Amazing. Is it … sorry you wouldn’t know … I wanted to say is it always like that?’

  He laid a finger on her lips to stop her and couldn’t help the temptation to stroke her lips and dip his finger into her mouth. Immediately her tongue touched the pad of his forefinger igniting a flame of desire that shot to his groin.

  His hand smoothed the skin along her cheekbone. ‘No Laurie, it’s not always like that … in fact, it’s almost never like that.’

  ‘Really?’ Her eyes lit up and he kissed her, suddenly wanting to put it to the test. He covered her warm skin with his body as her hands circled his body, one hand snaking down his back.

  ‘Do you know you have the most delicious butt?’ she muttered and then gave herself up to his kisses.

  She was still grinning from ear to ear like an overactive Cheshire Cat.

  ‘Feeling pleased with yourself?’ he teased as he emerged from the shower, towelling his hair dry, wrapped in nothing but a towel around his waist.

  God he was absolutely gorgeous and she was a complete goner. Excitement fizzed through her veins and she firmly tamped down the ‘what have I done’ thoughts. She could do regret later. Somewhere in the heat of it all, she’d decided to abandon all her principles and go with the flow of lust rampaging through her veins. She felt like a born-again virgin. As if she’d only just discovered sex and it was a lot more fabulous than she’d thought possible.

  And here in this completely over-the-top house … none of this was real, Leighton Buzzard, the library, Robert … it all seemed so far away. Another life. Here she was so far removed from her reality that she conveniently ignored any of the guilty feelings waiting at the barricades.

  Breakfast was … well weird. Obviously the cool people didn’t do breakfast. So it was just her and Cam. After the intimacy they’d shared in the bedroom, she was relieved that he treated her exactly the same as he had done before. No touches or kisses. Back to normal again. Just … friends she guessed, which suited her fine. The sex had been amazing and she was quite, she grinned to herself, satisfied with that. Parts of her tingled that hadn’t ever tingled before.

  The dining room with its vast table reminded her of a stretch limo. It was so long, it could seat all the statesmen of Europe. White damask cloths lined the table with regular intervals of posies of yellow and white tulips. Sideboards at either end of the room were weighed down with silver salvers of charcuterie and cheese, fruit, rolls and croissant. The extravagant buffet wouldn’t have been out of place at a five star hotel and Laurie found herself wondering if it was always like this.

  ‘Quite a spread,’ murmured Cam helping himself to black coffee and a healthy portion of Weetabix.

  Looking at the delicious selection of salamis, meats and cheese along with the mouth-watering array of bread rolls, she wondered if it would be rude to help herself and make up sandwiches to take in the car … Oh God that was exactly the sort of thing that Robert would do. And he was being shelved to the very back of her mind as a problem to solve another day. Her new motto, Carpe diem. Time for her to seize the day. Exactly as Miles would have wanted her to.

  She should ask Celeste to have her cook prepare a packed lunch when they left tomorrow. That was the way things round here were probably done, and no doubt it would arrive in a proper wicker hamper complete with wine and crystal glasses. The sort that should be stored on the running board of one’s car.

  ‘So where do you think everyone is?’ She looked at the long table. It was too wide to sit opposite Cam. It felt as if they were in a hotel rather than someone’s home. No host, no other guests, no sign of anyone. She would sit next to him, even though being near him made her skin buzz.

  ‘I think we’re unfashionably early … its only 8.30.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess this lot don’t have to worry about getting to work on time.’ She smiled to make it clear it didn’t bother her and then realised, actually it didn’t. She really didn’t care about these people and what they thought of her. She couldn’t help the grin that split her face. The thought liberated her.

  Cam looked puzzled for a second and then shrugged.

  ‘You think they’re any happier than you?’

  Odd choice of words. Why hadn’t he simply asked if she thought they were happy?

  ‘What do you mean ‘any happier’? I’m fine. I’m happy.’ She sounded shrill now. Defensive. He’d spoilt the mood.

  Cam’s face looked guarded for a moment. ‘I didn’t mean you were … unhappy, just that …’ his Weetabix suddenly commanded an awful lot of attention.

  She stared at him suspiciously, feeling tension gathering in her chest. ‘So I’m not unhappy but you think I’m ‘un’ something.’

  Cam sighed and wriggled in his seat like a fish caught on a hook.

  ‘Maybe I’m talking out of turn but … I actually … I don’t think you are happy.’

  Laurie bristled. He didn’t know her. Just because they’d had … she didn’t want to go there, how dare he presume he suddenly knew her?

  ‘Of course I’m happy … why shouldn’t I be? I’ve got everything I want. A home, a job I enjoy, a boyfriend, engaged to be …’

  Shit, she hadn’t meant to say that.

  Cam raised an eyebrow. Laurie coloured immediately. So she was a bad person, sleeping with him but that didn’t add up to being unhappy. Besides everything was different now. Today was a clean slate. A fresh start and every other cliché she could summon.

  ‘What I meant was … I am … I’m happy.’ She glared at him. ‘Just because I’m not doing cartwheels all the time and singing ‘oh what a beautiful morning’ doesn’t mean I’m not happy. Or content. I am happy.’ She pinched her mouth closed tamping down her fury at his supposition.

  Cam stared at her for a long moment and she looked down to fiddle with the tail of her croissant. When she looked back up, he still looked at her and now she felt like that fish wriggling on the hook, unable to get off. Stuck under the probing stare which seemed to look right through her.

  Her mouth curled in petulance and even though it was being childish she couldn’t stop herself.

  ‘Define happiness then, Mr I’m-an-expert-all-of-sudden.’

  Cam’s lips curved into a sad smile. ‘I can’t put it into words but I know when I see it, and when I look in your eyes, it’s not there.’

  ‘Really?’ She raised an eyebrow and looked directly into his eyes.

  He flushed. ‘Aside from
…’

  Cam embarrassed? It was kind of cute. Then his expression turned grave and suddenly she felt very small.

  ‘I think we’re probably best off agreeing to disagree,’ she snapped, gulping back a large slug of tea. ‘I’m going for a walk.’

  Chapter 20

  The garden opened out before her, with a path leading down to the right of the house to what looked like orchards, a walled kitchen garden to the left and in front of her a series of formal terraces which unfolded from the back of the house, trimmed with box hedges and ornate beds of flowers around statues. At the bottom in a large symmetrical and pristine lawn sprouted a marble fountain with intricate streams of water dancing in the distance.

  She chose the formal garden drawn by the tumble of water and the knowledge from there she would get a good view of the house.

  Everything was immaculate and perfect. Each hedge trimmed to precision, identical in height and width. She had visions of an army of gardeners furnished with rulers and nail scissors, drilled to prune with precision.

  She couldn’t imagine Celeste or Siena gardening or attacking a lawn with an ancient Flymo, its electrical lead taped together because they’d run over it so many times and cut the cable. She smiled to herself. Lawn mowing wasn’t her forte, but she’d spent some happy times in the garden with Dad. Following his instructions as she weeded his beloved vegetable patch, watching him laugh when he realised she’d pulled up all the carrot seedlings because she thought they were weeds. How could she forget how he’d proudly cooked his first batch of home grown veg? Roast chicken, roast potatoes and fresh broccoli from the garden and … the odd curled-up things that floated in the gravy. As they’d cut into the tiny florets, they’d released hundreds of tiny caterpillars which had been boiled alive.

  Dad branched out into tomatoes after that. Smiling to herself she walked along the path heading towards the fountain. They’d had to go into chutney production because they’d had so many. There were still some damn jars of chutney in the cupboard which had to be a least five years old. They were never going to get eaten and despite Robert’s impatience with the amount of shelf space they took up, she couldn’t bring herself to throw them away.