“What?”
“There are more than sixteen hundred bends on the Amalfi Coast road. You are more than halfway along already.”
“Is that supposed to reassure me? Besides, I’ve seen your driving—”
“No, bella. You didn’t see me. That was your problem. You jumped out into the middle of one of the busiest roads in Italia.”
It was true. Honesty compelled her to face the fact he was absolutely right. Deflated and defeated by his logic and a mild headache, she closed her eyes, unable to think of any further argument.
Perhaps she swayed because the next moment, he grasped her shoulders and steadied her body against his. Her right elbow rebelled at the slight jerk, but the pain reminded her of the stakes.
“Serena? You’re not going to faint on me again, are you?”
She rested her hands against his chest, allowing her fingertips and palms the pleasure of exploring just a little while she breathed in his scent—Dior Homme Sport—unless I’m mistaken.
Woody, earthy with a tang of citrus and sandalwood, and delicious.
After five months on the men’s cologne counter in Harrods, she knew every expensive fragrance created for men. Dior Homme Sport was in her top three favourites.
Maybe my favourite from now on.
“Serena?”
Nothing changed the blunt fact.
She had to find somewhere to stay overnight in Sorrento. She needed to go there.
Who would it hurt if I hooked up with Luca? If he’s interested.
Her body agreed, but her brain baulked.
Why fight this attraction? Temptation whispered in her ear. It’s one adventure, unexpected for sure, but completely mine to enjoy. One moment out of time.
“I’m fine.” She opened her eyes. “It’s probably just fear at what I’m about to do.”
Concern flashed in his, and something more. Recognition of the sparks zapping between them?
Take a chance, Serena.
“I’m sorry.” She dropped her hands and stepped back.
“No need to apologise. Do you want to sit in the shade for longer?”
“I meant for that dig about your driving. It took skill and quick reflexes to react like you did.”
“Grazie. But perhaps you are not ready to ride with me?”
Riding—Luca . . .
Was he deliberately using double entendre to let her know their thoughts were in sync, or had the possibilities of adventure released her from months of abstinence, and the urgency of finishing the project with Dad?
“What do you suggest we do then? Have me do an Audrey Hepburn and you sit behind me?” Not that she would ever take that final step and drive a motorbike, but joking about it lightened the simmering tension.
He chuckled and her heart did a little jig.
“Now that has potential. Given how you are swaying though, we might unintentionally end up swimming in the Tyrrhenian Sea. Another time perhaps?”
“Sounds like an offer to teach me a new skill?”
“I suspect you’re a quick study.” For several heart-stopping moments he narrowed his eyes and scanned her face, before a frown creased his brow. “Seriously, do you think you can hold on to me while I drive?”
“I can do it.”
“Bene. And perhaps you will have dinner with me tonight?”
“Perhaps.”
“Andiamo.” Hands gripped her waist and he lifted her onto the pillion seat. Perched higher off the ground than she’d expected, she tried to wriggle into a more secure position. The silky lining of her skirt let her down and she slid off the leather upholstery. Legs flailing, she grabbed Luca.
“I can’t do this.”
“You can, bella. We just need to apply logic to the problem. It’s this thing.” He plucked at her second-hand skirt. His fingers trailed over her hip and paused at the top of her thighs.
In spite of the warmth rising from the bitumen, a different kind of heat blossomed wherever his fingers touched her skin, tantalizing and tormenting.
Skin on skin.
Throat tight with lust and longing, she managed to ask. “What do you suggest?”
“How attached are you to that skirt?”
“Um, not. I got it from the op shop for this meeting.”
“What is this ‘op shop’?”
Brilliant. Blurt out your poverty-stricken state to the hottest man you’ve ever talked to. What next?
“Ah, it’s a second-hand clothes shop. I didn’t have a business suit—this isn’t my regular style of clothing.”
He grinned. Had he guessed? “Excellent. So you’re not attached to it?”
Her lips twitched. “As if I’d choose something so blah.”
“In that case—” From his pocket he pulled out a Swiss army knife.
A frisson of excitement skittered up her back when he flicked the blade up. “What are you going to do with that thing?”
He took firm hold of her skirt hem and inserted the tip of his knife in the side seam between his fingers. “Don’t move, bella.”
“I don’t think it’s such a good—”
A ripping of material followed as he sliced open the side seam to a point mid-way up her right thigh, before doing the same on the other side.
“Let us try astride, shall we? I think you might like it.” He closed his knife, slid it into a pocket and zipped it.
Serena twitched the ugly skirt and stepped back. Luca’s cuts made movement so much easier and at last, she thought—just maybe I can do this.
Luca lifted her and swung her across the pillion. Her skirt rode a little further up her legs. She tugged it down but sitting astride like she was, modesty was hopeless.
Luca grinned. “No one will see once I’m sitting in front of you,” and then he strapped a spare helmet under her chin and put his on.
Panther-like, he climbed onto the bike, kicked back the stand and revved the motor.
“Hold on to me. Tight.”
Engine growling, he closed his visor and pulled into the traffic, heading west.
Bend after bend lay ahead. At the first bend, Luca leaned into the corner, he and the machine moving as one.
One-handed, Serena grabbed at the seat behind her bottom and leaned the other way trying to counter balance the alarming angle. Unnatural and off balance, she doubted she’d survive the ride let alone be in any condition to rehearse her presentation at the end of it.
Once through the road tunnel Luca eased out of the traffic and pulled in behind a parked car.
Beside them, a sign in English offered ‘Sunbeds Mixed salads and a Terrace on the sea’ at a beach bar. Also closed. What a strange mixture, she thought, trying to still the frantic beating of her heart.
Luca turned and raised his visor. “You really have not ridden before, have you?”
“I told you that before we started.”
“I regret I did not believe you. I did not think you meant it literally, but you did not say how old you were when you made that promise to your father.”
“Fourteen. I’d just had my fourteenth birthday.”
“Okay, lesson number one—when we take a bend, lean into it, the same as I do.”
“Won’t the bike tip? What if I lean too far?”
“Bella, it is like sex.”
“Since when has sex been dangerous?”
A wicked gleam sparked in his eyes. “If you can ask that question then you have never made love properly.”
“What makes it dangerous?”
“That can be lesson number two if you like, after we have taught you the pleasures of riding my bike.”
Her heart stopped then thundered in her chest. Did he have a direct line to her thoughts? “Perhaps you’re promising more than you can deliver. Or more than I want to learn?”
“Ah, that is a challenge I look forward to winning, and bella, I always play to win.”
“I’m certain you do. But you don’t know how determined I am when I decide on something.” The th
robbing between her thighs increased in tempo. Desperate for relief, she gripped the seat, squeezing and rocking slightly.
“Si. You work with your partner to achieve the best ride—and the greatest pleasure in other pursuits. Allow me to show you—”
“Here?” Her voice rose, high with disbelief.
“Si, here and now or we will not arrive in Sorrento until midnight if I have to drive so slowly that you do not have to bend with me. Like sex, riding a motorbike is a type of dancing. It is physical, you, me, and the machine. Now, press your body against mine—” He reached an arm around, and pulled her forward until no daylight could possibly pass between their bodies. Plastered to his back, his bottom pushed into the last inch of space separating them. So close to the ache she wanted him to ease.
Tension quivered through her like sparks of electricity zapping with power and the promise to deliver.
“Molto bene. Now, when I move, you move with me. Same angle, same everything. Like making love. Capisce?”
“Me and my shadow.” Her words sounded thin and she was sure he would hear the thumping of her heart.
“Andiamo.”
He revved the engine, eased out into the traffic and took the first bend slowly.
Eyes closed, Serena clung tenaciously to his jacket, and tried not to think of the bitumen blurring beneath their wheels. By the time they emerged from the third tunnel into the adjoining bay, she managed to keep her eyes open.
As they glided around the curve into the next town, her body thrummed to the sheer pleasure of riding astride a powerful bike. The engine growled beneath her, a sexy man plastered against her, and she, who had never experimented or been adventurous, found it too damned arousing, and the man was too attractive to allow her any peace of mind.
The bright colours of stuccoed houses, the blue of the Mediterranean Sea, and the stone of the hills merged into an intoxicating blur of sensation.
All that registered with her was the delicious friction. Luca’s proximity to her, and the way she was wrapped tightly around his thighs tighter than a lover’s embrace, heated her body.
Foreplay had never been so exciting.
5
Luca revelled in the long, slow glide around the coastal curves, the quick tip-over at corners, and the occasional opportunity to open the throttle. But today, he barely noticed the towns spilling down steep hillsides to the blue Mediterranean waves.
Temptation wrapped around him like a blanket, in Serena’s arms circling his waist and her long legs bracketing his. Plastered to his back, moving in sync with him once she understood the physics of it, she was all he was aware of save for the small part of his brain that allowed him to control his motorbike.
Something about this woman, the blend of innocence and modesty, at such odds with her fledgling siren call, spoke to him.
He could never recall being so aware of a woman as he was of this one.
Innocent siren.
He tested the unusual description against the stranger clinging to his back.
It fits.
After the first dozen bends Serena’s grim hold around his waist eased and her body swayed with his in the natural rhythm of riding his bike.
If only I could see her face.
Dare he hope the relaxation of her grip meant she didn’t hate riding behind him?
Leaning into every turn, her arms snug round his waist, he was aware of her breasts pressing against his back and her fingers intertwined above a nascent arousal that kept him on edge.
He tightened his grip on the handlebars, fingers itching to open the throttle and fly. Never had he longed so much for a ride to end. Only the reminder this was Serena’s first time on a bike held his speed in check. Grimly he held onto his self-control and the promise in her eyes before they started their ride.
They passed through the main town of Sorrento, and then wound up the road to his home perched high on the cliff above the sea.
He turned the bike around the last corner and roared up his driveway, offering a fervent thank you to the ancient gods for the end of this torment.
Odysseus, he was not, although a siren rode pillion behind him.
Serena—English for sirena. She’s well named.
And he’d invited her aboard without a thought to preserving his sanity.
Mindful of his passenger perched astride the seat he switched off the engine and kicked the stand into place before he swung his leg over the fuel tank and stood.
He lifted his helmet off and placed it beside the bike. As he unzipped his jacket, a breeze stroked his skin, its cool fingers lifting his hair when he turned to help her.
Serena sat on the pillion, long legs stretched to tiptoes on the tiled drive. Long legs that went all the way up to—
He tried not to stare, but that expanse of creamy thigh—
Cristos! When he’d slit her skirt, he’d not thought that everyone they passed would be treated to such a view.
Madre di Dio, it’s a good thing I couldn’t see her legs.
I’d have run us off the road, despite my promise to keep her safe.
Realising she was struggling with the unfamiliar strap of her helmet, he stepped forward. “Permit me.”
Even wearing the unflattering helmet she was beautiful. Put her in decent clothes and he doubted there was a man alive who could resist her. Doesn’t she realise how lovely she is?
He lifted off her helmet and placed it beside his.
So softly, he was certain he wasn’t meant to hear, she sighed. He turned to confirm by sight what his other senses had caught.
Lips parted, eyes dreamy, she wasn’t quite focused on the present. She turned her languorous gaze on him. That wasn’t just any sigh, but the soft exhalation of a woman who had enjoyed a slow seduction.
Remembering how he’d felt the first time he’d ridden a motorbike he was delighted that he was the man to introduce Serena to this experience. “You enjoyed the ride, cara? You weren’t scared?”
“Oh my gosh, I’ve never experienced anything like it before. At first I was scared witless but it was—delicious.”
“We can tick lesson one off as a success.”
“You were right. Astride was—good.”
“Astride is always—good.” She couldn’t miss his innuendo. He sent a prayer to Venus that he’d read Serena’s signals aright. If he had, loving was definitely on the menu tonight.
Her cheeks blazed pink. White teeth caught her lower lip and her gaze slid away.
Careful, man. She understands, but perhaps she is unsure of me, of my intentions.
He was, after all, a chance-met stranger. True, he’d assisted her and she was duly grateful. Beyond that? Uncertain.
Luca had no such issue. Within thirty seconds of meeting someone he had usually sized them up. Subsequent interactions invariably proved his instincts were good. With Serena it had taken him longer only because she’d been confused after the accident, but instinctively, he knew this attraction was mutual. Would she allow herself to act on it?
He held out his hand. “Shall we go inside?”
She met his eyes. In their grey depths he saw mirrored a similar desire to the one pulsing in his blood.
Taking his hand, she swung her leg across the tank and stood. Slender heels, not overly high, but high enough to unbalance a first-time rider, caught in a crack between tiles, and she lurched forward against him.
He slipped an arm around her waist. “I’ve got you. Take it carefully with those heels.”
“I’m fine. It’s a bit like getting off a boat. I can still feel the twists and turns of the road.”
He laughed, delighted by her quick response. “It’s not all you. Brick tiles are a trap for heels. Come. Let’s go inside.”
“I’ll collect my gear and get out of your hair. You’ve already done so much to help. Rescued my bags, given me a ride—”
“Believe me, cara, it was a pleasure. And I don’t think dinner and—a wine or two is an imposition. Stay for a wh
ile. You promised to have dinner with me. Are you a woman of your word?”
Delicate colour stained her cheeks and her chin lifted. “I never go back on my word.”
It took all his self-control not to reach for her. After the look she’d given him she wasn’t going anywhere tonight.
He unlocked the door and gestured for her to precede him into the cool interior of his home.
“It’s beautiful.” Serena leaned on the parapet of a wide, terracotta-tiled balcony and looked down. Below and to the west, Sorrento bustled with late afternoon tourists. A burst of music floated up, the old Dean Martin classic still popular with visitors in cafés and restaurants.
Excitement threaded through her. This unplanned treat was something else again.
Instead of a red-eye flight, this evening in Sorrento was hers to enjoy. She felt like pinching herself to see if it was real. One whole night—mine to enjoy.
Where she would spend it was unclear, but still . . .
One whole night.
With Luca?
She hadn’t had a great deal of relationship experience, but she was certain she’d interpreted his interest correctly. Were bedroom eyes the norm for Italian men?
Luca appeared and handed her a glass of wine.
“You’re lucky to live in such a beautiful part of the world.”
He touched his glass to hers. “Welcome to Sorrento. I regret the wait—my PA will be here soon with your bags.”
She met his gaze—intense, hot, wanting—and suddenly she found it a struggle to draw breath. Anticipation ratcheted up a notch, and she grabbed the first thought that came to mind.
“Your PA? You’re in business?”
“Si. Family business. I’m afraid I am a demanding boss. I gave poor Graziella several urgent tasks to complete before she brings your things. I hope you do not mind waiting?”
Mind the chance to spend more time with him? She shook her head. “I’d be ungrateful to complain. I can’t thank you enough for all your help. I’ll never be able to repay you for such kindness.”
“It is nothing. Please do not concern yourself.”
Breaking away from his hypnotic gaze, she turned back to the stunning view. With a nonchalance she didn’t feel, she sipped the crisp dry wine.
Be Mine: Valentine Novellas to Warm The Heart Page 47
