by Costa, Bella
Marco had, a surprisingly small quantity, of suits hanging in his wardrobe, but then he only ever wore them on overseas visits, preferring more comfortable cotton shirts or sweaters with chino’s or jeans. Finding an oversized dressing gown hanging on the back of the door, she tiptoed down the stairs. Her bare feet, made no sound on the tiled stairs and floor.
She had only been in the main house a few times as a teenager to help her mother when Senor’ Spinozzi had become seriously ill. He had needed ‘round the clock’ care in his last few days and while her mother stayed close to his bedside, Serena had taken care of chores which her mother could not do without leaving the Senor’ Spinozzi for long periods. It hadn’t been long after Senor passed away that the whole scene had been replayed with Senora Spinozzi. Serena had spent much of the time tending to the living room fire, the kitchen and the laundry.
She knew the house was large but somehow now it appeared larger than she remembered it. She found her way down the long corridor to the living area and was still gathering her bearings and looking for the door out when a wave of nausea overcame her and she clamped a hand over her mouth, bending over double to try and control it.
Serena was only barely aware of the strong hands which grasped her shoulders and guided her quickly to a small cloakroom. Gently the hands swept her hair back and held it out of the way as she let go. Her ribs already felt bruised, sweat was pouring from the effort and her head was swimming from lack of oxygen as a result of the constant retching.
Marco stayed with her like that for a good hour, before carrying her back upstairs. He lay her down gently and wiped her brow with a damp flannel until she fell asleep. She just didn’t have the strength to fight him.
Chapter ten
It was early in the morning when she woke. A small modern alarm clock on a bedside cabinet which she hadn’t noticed last night declared it to be just after six o’clock. Marco had fallen asleep next to her, fully clothed on top of the blankets and still clutching the flannel. His breathing was slow and measured. She watched his face for a moment, making sure he was in a deep sleep.
Since being back, she hadn’t had much chance to study him properly, always preferring to get out of his presence as quickly as possible. He kept his hair shorter now she noted with disapproval. It actually managed to stay brushed back. She remembered when stray loose waves used to fall onto his brow and he would brush it back with his fingers. Every time Serena caught him in the act she would imagine her own fingers brushing those loose locks of hair back into place. She wished his hair was a little longer now. Perhaps then she could finally brush it back with her fingers and at least get that out of her system.
His face looks strained. Long dark eye lashes, brush down across the dark rings under his eyes. Her eyes followed his long narrow nose down to the stubble on his top lip.
Oh god those lips.
Those lips that had teased her that morning with the most innocent of kiss. That one kiss that left her senses reeling, wanting more. That one kiss that left her more confused about where their relationship was going than anything that had ever passed between them. She remembered how later, the slow, provocative dance his lips had then trailed across the soft edge of her jaw to the small soft hollow beneath her ear before tenderly trailing down her neck to her shoulder. Desire now curled like a serpent in her core at the memory.
She tore her gaze away from his lips and followed the strong line of his jaw to his neatly trimmed sideburns and back up to his eyes. Serena wanted desperately to kiss the tension from the corners of his eyes.
Damn him for being so beautiful and damn me for being so stupid.
Sighing quietly, she slowly rose from the bed trying not to disturb him.
Oooooo. Head rush!
Waiting for the blood to return to her head Serena steadied herself against the bed with her knees. Still shaking off the last threads of sleep, she stared vacantly, at the first hazy wisps of daylight, creeping through a narrow gap in the drapes. Her mind was so far away that she didn’t notice him stir, until he grasped her hands and pulled her swiftly back onto the bed and into his arms.
Serena gasped loudly as she landed on the bed and within seconds his arms had wrapped around her, threatening to squeeze the life from her. His stubble was rough against her chin as he ran his nose the length of hers and it electrified her. Her breath caught in her chest as his hands ran up her back and pulled her closer, almost painfully crushing her breasts against his firm chest.
Thankful of the layers of gown and clothing separating them, Serena hesitated for a heartbeat, not sure if she should obey her body which was screaming in desire or her head which was telling her to run as fast as she could. Her heart had stopped beating and flatly refused to tell her anything.
“Serena!” he breathed against her neck almost begging. “I want you to be the first thing I see every morning when I wake!”
A strong hand slid down her back to cup the curve of her buttock while a leg wound over hers, effectively trapping them
“Don’t leave me again.”
Leave?
That single word brought the memory of that day at Spinozzi, back like a slap in the face. All the pain she felt when she left from the entrance to the Spinozzi inspection room flooded back. She twisted out of his grip elbowing his mid-drift whilst pushing herself away and running out the room. She reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped to steady herself while trying to remember which way to go when he caught up to her.
Chapter Eleven
He had no idea where the words had come from. He had partially woken to find her standing next to his bed staring into the distance, the gentle mounds of her breasts rising and settling to a rhythm of their own under his t-shirt. This was his room. She was in his t-shirt. Standing next to his bed. In his semi-wakeful state, this goddess belonged to him. So he did the most natural thing in the world. He pulled her down onto the bed to worship her the way goddesses should be worshiped. He must have sensed a slight hesitation from her. Out of nowhere, he had begged her to stay with him. She bolted like a small wild animal. He never begged anyone for anything. He had never had to. He was a Spinozzi.
The harder he tried the more he seemed to push her away. Properly awake now, he bounded down the stairs and caught up with her.
“Serena I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to....I was half asleep, please.....”
“I’ll not be one of your playthings Marco!”
“That’s not the impression you gave me in your sleep last night.” He grinned now, trying to rid the situation of a bit of tension.
Her nostrils flared in anger and she lashed out with her hand. He caught it easily and turned it over to gently stroke the inside of her wrist. Her body seamed to sway just a little towards him and her eyes stared at his caressing finger, lips slightly apart. The soft skin of her neck pulsed as if beckoning him to kiss it. He slowly raised the upturned wrist to his lips and as stubble grazed her skin, she snapped out of the trance and curled her finger tips up to drag her nails into his cheek.
Now she wished she was able to wear the long squared off nails, some of the models sported. Her short neatly clipped nails still managed to rake his skin and redden the skin, but she sorely wished she could have done more damage.
“Shit!” He gasped, letting her go. Marco brought his hand up to his cheek then inspected his palm for signs of blood.
“I’m sorry. I suppose somehow I deserved that. Your clothes are in the drier and the storm has passed. I’m sure you can find your own way home.” With that he left the room.
Serena stood there relieved to be alone with her thoughts and gathered her wits about her. The room felt cold and empty now and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing now that he had left. Serena found her clothes and changed quickly in the laundry before making her way home. She needed to get as far away from Marco as possible and quickly.
Chapter Twelve
After a short breakfast and fending off her mothers’
grilling, Serena sank into a deep hot bath, sprinkling Lemon Verbena Leaves on top of the water. She closed her eyes and let the gentle smell of the leaves sooth her mind while the hot water soothed her muscles. Her abdomen and ribs ached from the constant retching and her throat felt raw. As she lay there she wondered what she had said or done in her sleep last night to justify Marco’s claims. No way! Serena had never, to her knowledge, talked or walked in her sleep. Her mother, flat mates or past boyfriends would have told her. Marco was playing a cruel game she thought miserably.
Lathering up the soap, she ran her hands down from her neck to her breasts, pausing to give each nipple a gentle tug. Just like he had done that morning in the Sun Room. She felt her muscles clench deep in her core. She remembered how, with a quiet smile and questioning eyes, his hands had travelled down her belly, his skilled lips following close behind. He stopped then.
Noooo don’t stop! What are you doing?
“Serena, this is a big step. I hope and pray at this moment that you will say yes, but I have to know. Are you sure? Are you ready for this? I will be gentle. I want you to trust me.”
Shy again, Serena slowly nodded her head, biting her bottom lip. With fresh lather on her hands, she followed the path he had made with his hands and lips after he had removed her jeans and panties.
She closed her eyes and pressed her legs tightly together just as he had held them tightly together, bent at the knees. Her fingers traced the movements his lips and tongue had made as they followed the seam where her thighs met. A slow, delicious path from her knees to the junction with her hips. Reaching through her soft spread of hair, her fingers probed where his tongue had tried to reach, but couldn’t quite.
When it looked like she would combust at any moment from frustration, he had lifted her legs, straight up and still together, repeated the process from the back of her knees down to a now very moist junction. Serena remembered groaning in frustration. She squeezed her legs harder together at the memory.
Marco had then spread her legs and climbed through to kiss her. His body had barely touched her as his lips found hers, his tongue weaving a wicked web around her heart. When his fingers had finally found her and danced a sinful waltz around her tiny private button, she thought she would expire right there.
Mmmmmm. Nice but not like his fingers.
His fingers had slowly danced their way south until one inquisitive finger found its way inside her continuing its sultry moves. Serena was completely lost by the time the second finger joined in.
“Serena. Look at me baby.” She opened her eyes reluctantly, realising for the first time that he had somehow undressed and more disappointingly that his fingers had stopped moving.
“Serena, I’m going to enter you now. This may hurt, but only a little and very quickly. I want you to trust me. Can you do that?”
“Yes.” She remembered whispering back.
“Anytime, you can tell me to stop. Do you understand?”
Arrrrggg, stop talking.
He had entered her fast and hard with one thrust and then stopped and held it there. She’d felt a sharp pinch and every muscle in her body had contracted heavenly.
“Serena, open your eyes.”
She had looked into his eyes. Concern, awe, love....she’d imagined she could see it all there. All for her. She had smiled shyly again and tilted her hips up to take him deeper. And then he had started to move.
Serena sighed and rinsed the soap off her body. She had other lovers since then, but none that she trusted or that she felt were as considerate of her feelings and needs as she had thought Marco had.
Chapter Thirteen
The following day was Sunday and Serena had promised her boss and best friend, Josephine that she would take the trip into Napoli on the occasional Sunday, if she was feeling well enough, and have lunch with Josephine and her family. The ferry was almost empty and rather than sit in the comfort of the lounge, Serena preferred to stand on the bow of the ship watching for dolphins and enjoying the crisp sea breeze.
As much as Serena loved the warmer weather, coastal Italy and the island were at their best after the throngs of summer tourists had dissipated. She watched as the hills of the coast line grew larger and details of the old city came into focus in front of the ferry.
The drive up through the Napoli hills to Camadoli was quiet, and Serena was secretly relieved, worried that she might black out while driving. She would not be able to forgive herself if she injured anyone. Besides, it would be a shame to dent the old racing red, 1969 Fiat 850 Spider she had been given as a graduation present by her mother.
Her American father had been involved in the design of the car before he passed away. This one had been lovingly renovated and she loved it. She could well afford to buy a brand new car if she wanted but this one had her soul in it.
Despite the low volumes of traffic she still drove well under the speed limit. Just in case. She was relieved when she finally reached the Bistro, realising just how stupid she had been to attempt driving. The thought of relying on someone to drop everything and drive her around though was about as welcoming as the thought of not going out at all.
“Well I’m here now.” She told the old car as she locked the door and made her way inside.
Josephine sat on the far side of the court yard bistro where she could watch the patrons come and go. The Bistro Michael belonged to Josephine’s brother Nico who had named it after his son. Josephine had been looking for an excuse to visit her nephew and now with Serena living so close, a regular Sunday trip had been planned into her schedules.
Josephine looked up as Serena walked through the courtyard gates. She shook her head slowly in disapproval as she watched Serena waltz between the tables and rose to greet her friend.
“It’s only been a few days and already you’ve lost weight. I’m guessing the chemo’ has been treating you badly?”
“It could be worse,” said Serena offering a weak but genuine smile. “How have you been coping without me?”
“Well so far we’re good but I’m not sure how long I can hold everyone up, so you better get yourself back in top form and soon.”
“I’ll see what I can arrange” said Serena, feeling a little better already.
Serena’s eyes fell on the morning society pages lying next to Josephine’s coffee cup.
Josephine excused herself to go and find her little nephew and arrange a coffee for Serena. Serena opened the folded page to look at the picture which had disappeared around the folded edge. She knew it. Even in grainy black and white news ink, those eyes were still unmistakable. Marco had been photographed the week before, leaving a charity dinner with French actress Michelle Gayraud. The couple had been seen at several functions now over the last eight months and this might be the end for Italy’s most eligible bachelor, the newspaper claimed.
Serena’s mood sunk. She had no idea why she cared. Perhaps it because she had tried so hard not to think about Marco since breakfast and now it was all she could think about. They had never formally dated, although she was sure her crush on him had been common knowledge. She had been so certain that had all changed when he seduced her, early that morning, four years ago. Marco had not been known for dating either back then, preferring to concentrate on mastering the running of his father’s business. Just days before Nightmare on Inspection room, they had briefly kissed at a charity ball. Marco had won the honour of a dance and a kiss during an auction and Serena had been ecstatic, but there in the middle of the dance floor the kiss had been clean and gentle and just barely lingering. Their lips never parting. Marco had then spun her around the dance floor like she was a feather before seeing her back to their table and then excusing himself. She didn’t see him again that night or the few days following. She got home later wondering if her knight in shining armour was perhaps gay. Until the morning of the inspection.
It would take Nightmare in Inspection room for her to realise the truth. She repulsed him!
Serious
ly....she was so over him. Perhaps she did not want to see him happy after he had made her so miserable. Yes that had to be it. That was why the picture of him with that beautiful French woman annoyed her so. There was no way she could still be attracted to the jerk.
Josephine returned and peeked over Serena’s shoulder before sitting down.
“Are we checking up on the competition, admiring a creature of beauty, or casting curses on sworn enemies?” she asked with a serious face.
“What do you mean?” asked Serena.
“Well we both know the competition between you and Marco is fierce. That’s why we’ve been so successful. I also happen to know that despite being the competition, that man is incredibly sexy. I know you think so too, even though you won’t allow yourself to see it.”
“Honestly I hadn’t noticed him. I was just studying Michelle’s dress. Very fifties retro. And I really don’t know anything about any competition. I don’t have a competitive bone in my body!”
“Sweet heart, you can fool yourself as much as you like but I can see right through you and judging by the look on your face just now, you have neither forgotten nor forgiven your episode with him.”
“The latter is more like it,” sighed Serena. “The man is intolerable and hasn’t changed a bit.”
“Mmmm. So you’ve bumped into him again then? What I don’t get though, is why your feelings are still so intense. It has been four years and you have dated since then.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well if an arbitrary person does you wrong, you get angry then move on. When someone you love passionately, hurts you, your anger will match your passion until either amends have been made or the passion stops. So I have to wonder why it is that after four years you still passionately hate this absolutely gorgeous man!”