Annabella needed a distraction other than Alessandro’s sinful mouth devouring his ice-cream. She imagined what it would be like to have that cool chili chocolate spread across their naked bodies as he slowly devoured her. The spicy sweetness on his swollen lips and further down. Oh God, she had to clear these disturbing images from her head.
‘Who’s this?’ she said, suddenly pointing up at a large bronze statue of an armoured soldier on his horse that dominated the centre of the piazza.
‘Ah, this is Duke Emanuele Filiberto of Savoy.’
Good, a little bit of history to cool things down.
‘And?’
‘Well, bella, this statue commemorates Filiberto’s victory after the battle of San Quintino in 1557.’
‘Right. Good.’
‘And here he is shown … Sheathing. His. Sword.’ Alessandro smiled cheekily at her. Did the innuendo ever stop with this man?
‘Hmmm. What is it with men and their swords, I wonder?’
Alessandro scoffed, obviously surprised by her sudden candour. His curious smile and the glimmer in his eye suggested he liked it.
Encouraged, she continued. ‘Of course, it doesn’t have to be a sword per se. A champagne sabre can be just as effective. Don’t you think?’
For once, Alessandro seemed at a loss for words. Was that admiration she saw in his eyes?
Annabella looked around and realised they’d now attracted quite a lot of attention. Men and women of all ages seemed to recognise them. Some were subtle with their surreptitious glances, while others pulled out cameras with enormous lenses and clicked away.
‘I think your plan’s working,’ Annabella said softly, glancing around them. ‘We’ve certainly got everyone’s attention now.’
‘And you’ve certainly got mine.’ Alessandro looked at her in wonder. She’d half expected him to pull her in for a dramatic display of public affection. Wasn’t that their plan? The moment practically screamed photo opportunity.
But besides that, she wanted him to kiss her. Passionately, despite the crowd. She must be exhausted, delirious. Except she actually wasn’t. In the afternoon sun, with Alessandro smiling at her provocatively, everything seemed perfectly clear.
‘Let’s go,’ Alessandro whispered. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’
And arm in arm they made their way across the piazza to Via Roma, back towards Alessandro’s loft.
Chapter 6
‘Congratulations chef.’ Alessandro handed Annabella a glass of prosecco over her shoulder before joining her on the sofa.
‘And to you, my accomplished colleague,’ Annabella said raising the glass. ‘Cheers.’
‘Salute.’
They both took a sip of the sparkling wine before exhaling loudly in unison. They laughed, relaxing back into the soft leather.
‘I can’t believe it, Ale. It’s done.’
‘I know, and in good time, no? How are you feeling?’
‘Like a new woman.’ Annabella snuggled into the fluffy white robe Mariela had wrapped her in after her surprise in-house spa treatment.
When they’d arrived home from their stroll through the piazza, Alessandro had insisted that she indulge in a little pampering after five solid days in the kitchen. He’d arranged everything. It was such an unexpected, thoughtful gesture. Annabella had never experienced such luxury; a full body mud-mask, followed by a massage and mani-pedi. Bliss.
‘It felt strange just lying still for two hours after the last few days of chaos.’
‘You deserve it, bella. You’ve worked so hard.’
‘We both have. But I think maybe we should just pop back to Caffé Torino and make sure everything’s alright.’ Annabella started to get up.
‘Relax, bella,’ Alessandro said pushing her gently back into the sofa. ‘You already checked a million times when we delivered it. And with your last minute surprise addition, it’s perfect.’ He smiled.
‘It is, isn’t it? Perfect. Can we actually say that?’
‘Absolutely. After my intense refresher course in competition chocolate making, and your outstanding performance as head chef. I would expect nothing less than perfection. Be proud of yourself, bella, I am.’
‘You’re right,’ she sighed, she should be satisfied with all they’d achieved. She took another sip of wine, holding it in her mouth for a moment as the sweet bubbles fizzed, enticing her to relax. She sank further into the sofa and closed her eyes.
They’d worked solidly day and night; there was no way either of them could get a decent sleep until the job was done. They’d worked so well together they’d even managed to finish ahead of schedule and enjoy some of the festival.
A week ago Annabella couldn’t have imagined that she’d ever feel so relaxed. She’d been so anxious about working without her sister and the security of her mother’s journal for the first time. Having Ale by her side in the kitchen had helped alleviate her worries. He’d given her the strength she’d needed.
Once he’d warmed up he’d easily matched her skills in the kitchen, but it was more than just having a reliable sous-chef. He’d supported her emotionally, related to her and even opened up a little himself. There was more to him than she’d allowed herself to realise. A lot more.
‘What are you thinking about?’ Alessandro asked softly.
‘Oh, you know, champagne truffles, caramel noisettes, fleur d’oranger cream … What else?’
‘Here, let me.’ Alessandro took her glass and placed it next to his on the coffee table. He gently lifted Annabella’s legs onto his lap and began massaging her feet. It felt so amazing she didn’t have the strength to protest.
‘So soft,’ he whispered.
‘Red carpet ready, right?’ she murmured.
She was glad she’d accepted Mariela’s offer of a pedicure. Exfoliated, moisturised, polished. She’d even had her legs waxed for the first time in her life, and not a moment too soon as Alessandro’s hands slowly worked their way along her calves.
‘Ale …’ she began to protest, but his touch felt like heaven and she didn’t have the energy to resist. In fact, despite her feeble objection, she didn’t really want him to stop at all.
‘It’s okay. Relax,’ he said softly.
Annabella gave in willingly, lying back into the sofa closing her eyes again. Muffled sounds from the events in nearby Piazza San Carlo made their way through the window of Ale’s loft. A male opera singer had started an open-air performance, Annabella recognised Puccini’s famous ‘Nessun Dorma’ aria. The dulcet rise of the beautiful music worked in harmony with Alessandro’s touch.
She could have easily fallen asleep if his firm caress wasn’t so electrifying. Her robe had draped open and soon his magic fingers were on her thighs, switching pressure to light strokes; her skin tingled. Shivers ran through her body, awakening all her senses.
‘Is that okay?’
‘Uh-huh.’ It was all she could manage in response. More, more she wanted to shout.
And as though he could read her mind, Alessandro’s strokes moved along to her inner thighs and lightly brushed against the lace underwear that thinly shielded her moistening core.
Annabella remembered too well the ecstasy of his fingers slipping inside her on the night of the degustation. This time she couldn’t pull away; she’d never felt so at ease with a man, or so desirable. She dropped one leg to the floor, welcoming him to continue.
Following her lead, Alessandro’s fingers gently rubbed against the lace, the increasing friction sending waves of pleasure all over her body.
Her eyes still closed, she sensed Alessandro shift position on the sofa, then realised with exquisite awareness his mouth was working in unison with his fingers. He blew softly through the delicate lace, his hot breath heightening the pleasure of his strokes. Annabella instinctively lifted her pelvis and rocked gently in time to his rhythm.
Then, in one glorious movement, he pulled her underwear aside and his fingers glided inside her while his thumb possessed her
pulsing bud.
Annabella opened her eyes for a moment, her gaze locking with his. His carnal stare heightened her arousal and she arched her back, letting out a liberating moan. She’d never felt so uninhibited, so desired.
‘Let’s get these off,’ Alessandro drawled as he pulled her underwear down. Annabella wriggled to assist him, kicking them off impatiently, eager for more of his expert attention.
He crouched down between her legs, and with total access he slipped his fingers into her as his mouth gently licked and sucked her arousal. The brush of his stubble against her sensitive skin, at first ticklish, intensified the thrilling friction of his touch.
His tongue joined his fingers, darting in and out of her, while his other hand awakened her nub, increasing the speed and pressure of his circular motions. Impulsively Annabella caressed his head, pushing him further into her, delighting in taking some control.
She could hear the tenor’s voice in the distance slowly rising to his dramatic crescendo just as she too let go. She was at Alessandro’s mercy as he brought her to her limit. Consuming her with his expert mouth until she exploded in pulsating waves of such ecstasy that her body trembled uncontrollably.
Alessandro trailed soft kisses up her torso, climbing onto the sofa to nestle behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her body against his as Annabella slowly returned down to earth.
‘Relaxed?’ Alessandro murmured into the nape of her neck.
‘Uh-huh.’ She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so relaxed.
She felt weightless, like gravity had deserted her and she was floating in air. The scent of coconut from her treatment combined with Alessandro’s spicy scent heightened her euphoric state. So this is what cloud nine felt like.
‘So, are you ready?’
‘For what?’ Annabella asked dreamily. She could happily lie in this delicious cocoon for eternity. Even though her body was fully awakened, the idea of moving was the last thing on her mind.
‘You’ve forgotten? Only the biggest performance of your life.’
Suddenly the comforting security of Alessandro’s embrace felt like a cage tightening around her. Annabella shifted, loosening his hold. His words from the night of the degustation come flooding back. Why not pleasure tonight? It doesn’t have to mean anything. Is that what this was?
A surge of humiliation engulfed Annabella. She’d allowed herself to imagine this incredible moment was something else. Something real. She’d yielded to fantasy and let a moment of weakness take over, even though she had no right to indulge her desires or deserve any sort of lasting happiness.
‘Right. Our great charade begins again.’ Annabella tried for a casual tone.
She was grateful she wasn’t facing Alessandro as she slowly sat up and wrapped her robe around her. With their growing closeness came greater familiarity, and if he looked in her eyes he’d surely see straight through her.
‘No, bella.’ He sat up behind her. Taking her by the shoulders, he gently turned her towards him. Instead of pity or regret, she saw concern in his eyes. ‘I wasn’t talking about us. I meant, are you ready for the biggest moment of your career? The great unveiling of your first showpiece as a master chocolatier.’
‘Oh.’ Annabella almost choked on the word as her breath caught in her throat.
Why had she been so quick to assume that he couldn’t possibly be interested in her beyond her body? Neither of them could deny their physical chemistry but she’d felt something more the last few days, something deeper that she feared to acknowledge.
Giving in physically was one thing, but emotionally? All that would get her was inevitable pain. Soul-destroying, life-altering pain. She’d believed in her relationship with Nic. Naively she’d thought they’d be together forever. But he’d suppressed her voice, drained her strength then left her when she’d needed him most.
‘I’m sorry, bella. I should have realised this would be a difficult moment for you.’ Alessandro brushed her cheek with his thumb and she realised she’d started to cry. ‘You must be missing your sister dreadfully, no?’
Alessandro pulled her against his chest, caressing her head so tenderly that she couldn’t hold back her tears. Everything was at stake for his company tonight but his thoughts were with her. He understood the significance of this event. What it meant not to have Sofia by her side.
He drew back slightly and gently cupped Annabella’s face. ‘Please know, bella, about what just happened. It had nothing to do with business and it certainly wasn’t a charade. Not for me.’
He kissed her softly on the lips before embracing her once more. Annabella realised that her tears weren’t only for her absent sister or her irreparable heart, but also for a love that was doomed just as it was starting to bloom.
She nestled her head against Alessandro’s chest as her tears were soothed away by the rhythm of his heartbeat, prolonging the moment until the spell would be broken. Like this they were suspended in time and almost perfect.
But she’d have to tell him the truth. She couldn’t continue to be with him, like this, and keep her secret for much longer. She was already in too deep and falling fast. The only possible outcome of an affair with Alessandro was pain. And not just hers. Once all was laid bare, he would never want to see her again.
But for now, for Sofia’s sake Annabella had to keep going. At least until she secured the competition prize money they so desperately needed. She owed it to her beautiful sister who’d sacrificed everything for her but was now so far away in body and spirit. Broken because of Annabella’s poor judgement. No, now was not the time for epiphanies about love and heartfelt conversations.
Annabella inhaled the spicy sweetness of Alessandro’s cologne that lingered on his shirt, committing it to memory for when this moment had long passed. ‘I think we’d better get ready,’ she whispered as she slowly pulled away from him.
***
‘Alessandro, Annabella! Prego!’ The photographers called out as Alessandro lead Annabella along the red carpet leading to the entrance of Caffé Torino.
Alessandro glanced over at Annabella and despite her tight hold of his elbow, she appeared the picture of composure. Graceful and elegant. Sure, Mariela had helped select her outfit and hairstyle. But that poise was all Annabella. When did that happen?
‘You okay?’ he whispered.
‘Absolutely. Let’s do this.’ She smiled up at him confidently before stopping to smile for the photographers. What had happened to that camera-shy, hesitant woman he’d first met in his office?
The paparazzi huddled around them, flashes from all directions. Instinctively, Alessandro wrapped his arm protectively around Annabella’s waist.
Squeezing his hand, she looked up at him lovingly. Was it just for the cameras? It was getting harder to tell the difference between what was real and what was just part of the act. Either way, he liked how that look made him feel. Admired and wanted. But also something else, something new. Loved? Is that what this felt like?
‘E solo?’ A photographer requested, motioning to Annabella.
‘Certo.’ Annabella surprisingly obliged, letting go of Alessandro’s hold to have her picture taken alone.
Unlike his past dates, she didn’t strike a pose typical of model deportment; side-on, foot forward, hand on hip. Instead, face-on with her hands loosely clasped in front of her, her stance was alluringly modest. She was natural and breathtakingly beautiful. Just as she had been earlier that day in the afternoon sun.
Alessandro stood aside and saw his fiancée through the onlookers’ eyes. Her champagne gown was the perfect match for her porcelain skin. The silvery sequins of the fitted bodice sparkled against her décolletage, fusing the line where the gown ended and the creamy softness of Annabella began.
Other than the scorching flash of her full red lips, her make-up was restrained. Her natural beauty sparkled from her striking blue eyes. Loose strands of caramel-flecked hair softly framed her face, obscuring the small scar above
her eyebrow. A reminder of the car accident he now knew had deeply traumatised her, and ultimately led her to him.
Her serene smile, so inviting for the camera, he knew must mask a broken heart. Even after all they’d shared the past weeks, and their intimate embrace earlier in his loft, she still questioned his motives.
Was she so damaged she actually thought she was unlovable? She seemed to believe he wouldn’t want her beyond the terms of their contract. He had hoped he’d assuaged those thoughts. As shocking as it was for him to admit, his feelings for Annabella were getting deeper by the day.
He was determined to convince her he wanted her in and out of his bed. Unlike the photographers, they didn’t know the sweet addictive taste of Annabella that still lingered on his lips. He wanted more, much more of all of her. Their interlude this afternoon was all too brief, and just the beginning of his plans for her.
‘Shall we?’ Luckily Annabella interrupted his thoughts before he lost his composure and prompted a frenzy of camera flashes.
Satisfied with their shots, the photographers thankfully moved on to the next celebrity. With Annabella under his arm once more, they slowly made their way to the end of the red carpet.
‘Wait, bella.’ Alessandro gently halted Annabella as he paused at the café’s entrance.
They’d reached the end of the carpet and Alessandro looked down at the pavement. Inlaid in the cobbled stone at their feet was a bronze bull rearing up on its hind legs.
‘I’d almost forgotten about him,’ Alessandro said as he brushed his foot across the bull. ‘For luck. At least that’s what they say. What my father used to say.’
Softly, softly, Ale. His father had laughed as his six-year-old son had tap-danced all over the bull. Ale, il mio ragazzo fortunato. Alessandro smiled at the memory.
‘My lucky boy. That’s what he used to call me.’ Even when he was far from good luck for anyone. Especially his father.
‘That’s so lovely, Ale. You can never have too much luck, right?’ Annabella said as she tapped her delicate foot on the bull.
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