Her hands gripped his shoulders and he gritted his teeth. ‘Your shoulder...’ she gasped.
She knew then what his grimace on the dance floor had been about, but as she went to remove her hands his pain was forgotten, and she dug her fingers further in as he filled her so absolutely that it felt there wasn’t even enough space to gather in a necessary deep breath.
Instead, she held on to her breath and to a scream.
She had been right. They did not fit.
Yet for Rafe the tight grip of her was so intense that he let out a moan as he fought to stay still while she grew accustomed to the feel of him inside.
She would never accustom herself, Antonietta was sure. Except now his ragged breathing in her ear was coming into focus, and her grip was loosening on his shoulder, and she was so warm she felt she might faint.
‘I want a drink of water,’ she said, and heard his low laughter in her ear.
He gave her his mouth and he kissed her softly, so that she forgot the agony she was in. More velvet-soft kisses and then he moved deep inside her until she could no longer focus on his kiss.
She slumped back on the bed and he slid an arm under her, and when he moved she did the same.
‘Rafe...’ She said his name and he tempered himself, fought to slow down, but that was not what she was asking. ‘More...’
She had never known anything so delicious—until he put his elbows to the sides of her head and looked right down into her eyes, sweeping damp hair from her face. Then Rafe started to thrust, and she held not his chest, nor his shoulders. She stroked her fingers down his back and felt his taut buttocks, pressed him harder into her.
How did he know? she wondered, because she’d closed her eyes and told him nothing, but he was thrusting harder now.
‘Rafe...’ she said again, but there was no instruction she could give when he was playing her like a master.
He felt the shivers of her orgasm even before Antonietta knew what was happening.
He was moving faster, and she could see the concentration on his features. The tension seemed to rip through her, and she clenched tight, but he thrust harder.
Rafe came in blessed relief, and her deep pulses dragging him in were his reward. And then his breathless moan reverberated through her as she convulsed beneath him. He felt her soft collapse as her body relaxed.
‘I never knew...’ Antonietta was breathless as he lay atop her, dragging in air. ‘All I was missing...’
‘Because you never knew me.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
JUST AS SHE always was, Antonietta was up long before the Sicilian winter sun. And for a moment she languished in bliss. Her head lay on Rafe’s chest and she listened to the thud, thud, thud of his heart, and in the silence of predawn she focussed only on the sheer pleasure of waking next to him.
The hurt that had become so familiar was held at bay when she was in his arms, and it was incredibly tempting to sink back into the sleep that beckoned. She fought it, though. The consequences of being caught in a guest’s bed had started to impinge and Antonietta forced her eyes open.
‘Rafe...’ She tried to untangle herself from the heavy arm that lay over her. ‘I had better head back to the cottage.’
‘Not yet,’ he said sleepily.
‘Yes,’ she insisted. ‘Your coffee will be delivered soon, and I had better not be here! I ought to leave while it’s still dark.’
‘I’ll walk you back.’
It was an offer without precedent, for while Rafe always ensured that his dates were seen home, it was generally under the care of his driver. Not that Antonietta could know that.
Even so, she immediately shook her head. ‘No, the staff will soon be starting to arrive,’ she said as she hauled herself from the warm bed and pulled the drapes open enough to allow her to see and scramble for her clothes. ‘I cannot be seen leaving your room.’
It really was unthinkable.
Most certainly she would lose her job. And, worse, her reputation in the village—already shaky at best—would flatline completely.
Last night it had felt so simple and straightforward, but the encroaching light of dawn cast shadows of doubt.
Rafe had promised one night, which meant their time was over, but how could this be goodbye? How did she simply walk out of his life as if their parting did not matter to her?
Because it did.
It very much did.
Rafe turned on the bedside light and Antonietta hurried to finish dressing. She turned her back to him, though not because she was suddenly shy—she was trying to hide her eyes. She did not want Rafe to glimpse, even for a second, that last night’s bravado had gone.
‘Tomorrow’ was here.
Which meant he was leaving today.
Antonietta couldn’t say that she hadn’t been warned. The potential for hurt had been clearly labelled, just as a pharmacist added stickers to a medicine bottle.
May cause heartbreak.
In case of sudden tears do not attempt conversation.
And so Antonietta did up the tiny zip on her dress, pulled on her shoes, and then turned to Rafe and attempted a smile. ‘Thank you for a wonderful night.’
He lay with his hands behind his head, watching her dress and wanting to haul her back into bed. Sex had made him hungry, and he would love nothing more than to confuse the chefs and cancel his strict order for coffee only, then tear into pastries and make love to her all over again.
‘Stay a little longer. I’ll order breakfast.’
‘I’m not hiding in the bathroom, Rafe. Anyway, I really do have to go to work.’
She did not want prolonged goodbyes and to be told by him that it had been good while it lasted.
Make that great.
Or rather, make that the single best time of her entire life.
And it wasn’t just the sex, though her body felt deliciously bruised and awoken. More, it had been the talking and the dancing, and walking across the Old Monastery grounds hand in hand.
And, even more than the sum of all that, it had been the honesty she had found with him. Even if it was impossible to be honest now, and admit that leaving with a smile was the hardest thing she had ever done.
Absolutely the hardest.
She went over and gave him a kiss.
A light one was her intention—except Rafe moved his hand behind her head and pressed her close. Antonietta closed her eyes to the taste and the bliss. She was tempted, so tempted to give in. Was he subtly guiding her to lie atop him, or was she actually drifting that way to the command of his kiss?
Their tongues were more urgent, the kiss deeper as his other hand moved to her breast, toying with it through the fabric of her dress, and Antonietta knew he would have far less trouble with the zip than she.
Rafe’s moves were seamless, and Antonietta knew that any moment she would be naked and knotted with him, locked into bliss with no thought as to the ramifications there would surely be.
And she would fall deeper.
Self-preservation had Antonietta removing her mouth, and she looked down for a moment into his deep navy eyes and knew she could very easily drown in them.
Do not take more than the stated dose...
Or she might never recover.
‘Be good,’ she said.
He gave a slight mirthless laugh. ‘I don’t want to be good.’ But then he was serious. ‘You’re okay?’
‘Of course.’
‘You’re sure?’ Rafe checked, and watched as her eyes narrowed a touch.
Would he prefer that she cried? Antonietta wondered. Well, she refused to allow him back into her thoughts. She had been a willing participant last night and did not regret it for a moment. It was just that she had missed the part in life’s guidebook about how to walk from someone who mattered. The lesson that taught you
how to be incredibly close one moment and say farewell the next.
‘Goodbye, Rafe.’
Yes, walking through the French doors and climbing down the stone steps really was the hardest thing she had ever done.
Leaving a packed church full of people waiting for the bride to arrive had been a very public hurt. Being disowned by her parents had caused anguish and pain. But it was the price she had paid for rejecting Sylvester, and despite the consequences she knew she would do it again.
This was a private hurt that no one knew of.
The guard gave her a bored look as she passed, which told her that a woman leaving Rafe’s bed was hardly noteworthy.
The birds were starting to sing and the sky was starting to lighten as she crossed the grounds, and the world carried on as if nothing had changed.
Yet for Antonietta, everything had.
She looked back to the Old Monastery, and more specifically to the August Suite, from which she had just come. The master bedroom was in darkness, and she could almost picture Rafe reaching out and flicking the switch on the lamp before drifting off to sleep.
But Rafe had not gone back to sleep. Instead, he lay in the dark, in a bed perfumed by their union.
He had come to Silibri not just to lie low but to prepare himself for the enormity of what lay ahead, and all that awaited him when he returned to Tulano.
He had come to Silibri to clear his head.
Not to lose it to a maid with sad eyes.
* * *
Just this once Antonietta would have liked to do one of Chi-Chi’s slowly-slowly acts. She was sore, and tender, and she wanted to dwell on last night and wallow a while. But then nothing would get done.
‘I think it is mean of Nico to make us work on Christmas Day...’ Chi-Chi huffed as she refilled the selection of toiletries in one of the regular suites.
It was stunning, of course, and looked out towards the valley, but it was nowhere near as luxurious as the August Suite.
In truth, Antonietta was happy to have been allocated to the suites well away from there. Her ears were on tenterhooks, waiting for the sound of a helicopter’s approach that might signal his leaving.
‘Of course some staff have to work,’ said Antonietta, dragging her mind to their conversation as she dragged the vacuum cleaner from the doorway. ‘Are the guests supposed to make their own beds and get their own food? What would be the point of people taking a Christmas Break?’
‘Well, there could be a skeleton staff,’ said Chi-Chi, as she needlessly rearranged the herbal teabags. ‘That way some of the staff who have been here since the place opened could have the day off.’
‘Tell Nico.’ Antonietta shrugged.
‘I intend to,’ Chi-Chi said. ‘In fact—’
Whatever Chi-Chi’s grand plans were, Antonietta chose not to hear them and switched on the vacuum cleaner. She turned it to full suction and wished that drowning out her thoughts of Rafe was as easy as drowning out Chi-Chi’s whining voice.
‘Antonietta!’
She heard her name and then heard it again.
‘Antonietta!’
‘What?’ she snapped, wondering what gripe Chi-Chi had this time that couldn’t possibly wait—except it was Francesca who was calling her.
‘Scusi,’ Antonietta said and turned off the vacuum. ‘I didn’t see you there.’
‘That’s fine. I can see that you are busy...’ Francesca shot a look at Chi-Chi, who was suddenly polishing a mirror. ‘Signor Dupont has asked for his room to be serviced and he has requested you.’
‘But I thought he was checking out?’
‘Checking out?’ Francesca frowned. ‘Where did you hear that?’
‘I’m not sure...’ Antonietta attempted to cover her mistake. ‘I thought you said he wouldn’t last until Christmas Eve?’
‘Well, that might be the case, but for now he is here—and, given that he has been in the August Suite for a week now, it requires a deep service, so I shall come with you.’
Oh, God! Please, no, Antonietta thought as they left Chi-Chi to it and collected linen before taking the elevator and heading along the cloisters.
What on earth was Rafe thinking, requesting her? She had visions of him lying naked on the bed as she and Francesca walked in, and was actually sweating as Francesca knocked and then opened the door.
It would seem Rafe had better manners than that, though.
‘He’s out,’ Francesca said, after she’d made herself known but got no response.
Thank you, Antonietta breathed to herself.
‘Let’s get started,’ Francesca said.
It felt odd, being back in the August Suite after last night. There on the table were the glasses that they had drunk from, but Francesca soon whipped them away.
‘It looks as if he had company last night. Antonietta, why don’t you get started in the master bedroom?’
From riches to rags.
Well, not quite. But she was no longer his lover and she was back to being his maid.
First she swept out the fire before which he had slowly undressed her. It felt as if it had been a dream. And then she rebuilt it, adding kindling under the logs and kneeling back for a moment. But there was no time to daydream, so she went to make up the bed.
As she pulled back the heavy cover she had lain beneath she saw the evidence of her lost virginity.
It had not all been a dream.
Quickly, and with her cheeks burning red, she bunched up the sheet. She was about to toss it to the floor when, glancing up, she saw Francesca standing in the doorway, watching her.
‘You’re a good worker, Antonietta.’
‘Thank you.’
‘It doesn’t go unnoticed.’
Was it still the bloodied sheet that she held in her hand that made her blush, or was she hearing a warning behind Francesca’s words? Had Rafe asking for her to service his suite set off an alarm? Or had they been seen driving off last night?
Surely Francesca didn’t know?
‘Let me help you,’ Francesca said, and together they made the bed with fresh linen, chatting while they worked. ‘After this we need to set up the Temple Suite.’
‘Is there a guest arriving?’ Antonietta frowned, because there had been no mention at handover.
‘Nico is flying in to take lunch with Signor Dupont in the restaurant.’
‘Oh.’
‘Birds of feather.’ Francesca gave a tight smile as she wrestled a pillow into its case.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Oh, I know Nico is happily married now, but let us not whitewash his past and make him a saint. He was as much a playboy as Signor—’
‘Francesca,’ Antonietta interrupted, even though Francesca was her boss. ‘You know I don’t like to gossip. Aurora is my dearest friend and Nico is her husband. Gabe is my godson.’
‘Of course.’
The silence between them was a bit strained after that.
With the bed made, Antonietta swept out the fire in the main lounge and then ticked that off the list. Because it was a deep service there was high dusting and ledges to be wiped, but finally it was all finished. And then, because Francesca seemed to be watching everything she did, Antonietta checked each and every candle, despite knowing they hadn’t been lit.
It was possibly Antonietta’s only regret from last night—not to have seen the August Suite bathed in candlelight.
‘I think we are done,’ Francesca said. ‘Why don’t you head off? I shall head down to greet Nico.’
‘But we have the Temple Suite to prepare.’
‘You’re on a half-day,’ Francesca pointed out, and then stopped speaking as the door opened and Rafe walked in.
He wore black jeans and a black jumper and his hair was dishevelled. From the sand he’d brought in, Antonietta gu
essed he had been walking on the beach.
‘Buongiorno, Signor Dupont,’ Francesca said. ‘We have just finished.’
‘Buongiorno, signor,’ Antonietta added dutifully, although her voice was barely a croak.
Rafe didn’t return their greetings and gave only the vaguest of nods as he walked past them with barely a glance.
She could have kissed him there and then for his arrogant ways, for surely this must put paid to any suspicions Francesca might have.
‘Have a nice half-day and a good day off tomorrow,’ Francesca said. ‘Do you still have Christmas shopping to do?’
‘No...’ Antonietta said, but then remembered the lipstick. ‘Yes—I still have Aurora’s present to get, and I would like to get something for Pino.’
And she wanted to get something for Francesca too, Antonietta thought as she left the Old Monastery. Oh, and Vera in the laundry. And then there was Tony and Vincenzo...
She had come back to Silibri to be reunited with her family, and if that didn’t work then her plan had been to leave and never look back. Yet, despite making no progress with her family, she was starting to make friends here. Real friends.
But still, it was going to be a very lonely Christmas. And for different reasons than those she had imagined when she had first arrived in Silibri. Christmas meant that Rafe would be gone, and she did not know how she would deal with that.
Nico’s chopper was hovering as she crossed the grounds, and she watched as the pilot skilfully landed the beast. To her delight it was not just Nico who stepped out but Aurora too, and she was holding little Gabe!
Aurora looked stunning. She wore a kingfisher-blue dress with killer heels and her hair was a tumble of raven curls as she waved and ran towards her friend. Gabe was all black curls too, and huge black eyes, and Antonietta simply melted when he smiled as she held out her arms to him.
‘See,’ Aurora said as her son went so readily to Antonietta, ‘he knows you.’
‘He really does.’ Antonietta beamed. ‘I didn’t think you were coming back until Christmas Eve?’ she said.
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