Swept Away!: Accidentally Expecting! / Salzano's Captive Bride / Hawaiian Sunset, Dream Proposal. Lucy GordonЧитать онлайн книгу.
her orders?’
‘Definitely. And she’s very demanding.’
‘So I’m here only for your pleasure?’
She surveyed him with wicked glee. ‘Well, what else did you imagine you were here for? I expect my every whim to be obeyed.’
‘I’m your willing slave.’
‘And my first whim is to swim. Into the sea with us.’
‘I was hoping for something better.’
‘Hmm! Being my willing slave didn’t last long, did it? Come on.’
She wriggled free of him and ran down the beach, hearing him just behind her. Once in the surf, he seized her and drew her further in, until the water was up to their chests; nobody else could have seen the way his hands were wandering.
‘Just what do you think you’re doing?’ she challenged.
‘Only my duty. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.’
‘But you can’t do that in public.’
‘It’s not in public, it’s under water. Perfectly respectable.’
‘There is nothing respectable about what you’re doing,’ she gasped.
After that she became incapable of speech and could only cling onto him, digging her nails into his shoulder in a way that left marks for days.
When they finally returned to their loungers, she asked him to fetch her a drink. While he was gone she texted Mick with shaking hands.
Sorry, can’t change my mind. Am out of action for a while.
She switched off the phone and hid it away safely, silently thanking a merciful providence for helping her get away with it this time.
Hopefully Mick wouldn’t trouble her again, whatever he might guess.
Oh, to blazes with Mick and what he might think! To blazes with everything, except getting Dante back into her bed quam celerrime.
CHAPTER NINE
THE ‘willing slave’ fantasy kept them entertained for a while. Unlike many men, Dante was totally relaxed with it, his masculine confidence too powerful to be disturbed by such a joke.
They played it out in the bedroom, with her indicating her requirements and him following to the letter, both enjoying the challenge, laughing, not thinking any further. That was how they both preferred it.
One morning as they were preparing to go out the phone rang, and it was Gino.
‘The film crew have left,’ Dante informed Ferne when the call was over.
‘Already?’
‘There was some sort of a kerfuffle; Sandor threw a fit and everyone was out in an hour. Now we’re needed to sell the place.’ He looked at her, smiling. ‘Ah, well, I guess it was too perfect to last for ever.’
‘Nothing lasts for ever,’ Ferne said lightly.
‘That’s what I say.’ Then he sighed and added ruefully, ‘But sometimes it would be nice if it did.’
They spent two days at the Palazzo Tirelli before heading back to Naples, where they moved into a small apartment belonging to a friend of Dante who was currently away.
On the first night back they went to dinner at the Villa Rinucci. Hope broadcast the event to the family, inviting everyone to drop in. But for her the real point of the evening was to see with her own eyes that Dante was in good health, and even better spirits.
‘He’s told me all about it,’ she said when she and Ferne had a moment alone in the kitchen. ‘You actually slapped Sandor Jayley’s face because you prefer Dante?’
‘I’d have slapped his face anyway,’ Ferne protested. ‘It had nothing to do with Dante.’
‘Oh, come! What about that big offer you turned down?’
‘Well, I had to, after I made you a promise. Hope, Dante and I are ships that pass in the night, we both know that. We’re having fun, but it can’t last. He’s not in love with me, and I’m not in love with him.’
Hope didn’t reply in words, but her cynical gaze was answer enough. A moment later Toni called, and they both went out to where everyone was lounging in the garden as the evening wound down.
Ferne wished she could speak openly to Hope and tell her that love was impossible because she simply wouldn’t allow it to happen.
She knew she had been lucky as few women were ever lucky. Dante was a gentle and considerate man. If she was tired, he would urge her to bed, kiss her gently and either hold her until she slept or creep away, leaving her in peace.
When they talked, he listened to her with every appearance of real interest. His own conversation was fascinating. Beneath the sometimes clownish exterior was a thoughtful, educated man who might well have been a professor in some serious subject.
In bed he was a skilled and tender lover, giving her a physical pleasure she had never dreamed possible, and treating her like a queen. On the surface no woman could have asked for more.
But in her heart she had the melancholy feeling that it was all a sham, an illusion, because he was hiding the most important part of himself from her. And while that was true it would protect her from falling deeply in love with him.
She reassured herself about that many times.
Their apartment was high up on the fifth floor of a block overlooking the Bay of Naples. From their bedroom window they could see the great volcano Vesuvius in the distance. Several times she woke to find him on the window seat, contentedly watching the full moon across the bay casting its glow on the volcano.
One night he stayed up late, leaving her to come to bed alone. She’d waited for him, then fallen into a half-sleep. Somewhere in that doze she’d thought she felt a gentle kiss on her cheek, but when she opened her eyes she was alone.
She’d slept again, and had finally woken to find him sitting by the window. This was different from last time, when he’d sat with his head in his hands, clearly in pain. Now he seemed content, gazing out, still in the same thoughtful mood as before. When he saw that she was awake, he didn’t speak but held out an arm for her to come and join him.
‘Do you remember when we looked at this before?’ he murmured.
‘Yes, and you told me you’d once heard it rumble and longed to hear it again,’ she said. ‘There’s nowhere to get away from it, is there? Wherever you are in Naples, it’s always there.’
‘You think you’re used to it,’ he murmured. ‘You know it in all its phases, but you can still be taken by surprise.’
She watched him, wondering what he would say next. He’d been in a strange mood for the last couple of days, with less to say than usual. He didn’t seem sad or unwell, merely thoughtful. Occasionally she would look up to find him watching her with eyes that were almost puzzled, as though something had disconcerted him. If he caught her glance, he would smile and turn quickly away.
‘What have you been taking for granted?’ she asked him now.
‘Everything, perhaps. You think you know how things are, but suddenly it’s all different. You’re not the same man you were—whoever that was.’
He gave a brief, nervous laugh, sounding mysteriously as though he had no self-confidence. ‘I’m talking nonsense, aren’t I?’ he said.
‘Mmm, but go on. It sounds good.’
‘Yes, nonsense can sound very impressive. I learned that long ago. You can even impress yourself with it for a while. But—then the volcano rumbles and reminds you of things you’ve always known, and maybe wish you didn’t.’
Ferne