Mary Lyons - The Italian Seduction

by The Italian Seduction (lit)

  ‘This isn’t the most luxurious of our guest bedrooms,’ his mother had said, with a faintly apologetic smile. ‘How­ever, when my son informed me that he would be arriving accompanied by his bodyguard, I realised that you would undoubtedly need to be situated near him, in his wing of the house.’

  Suddenly aware of a$ush spreading over her cheeks, Antonia had stiffened, quickly glancing at the other woman with startled eyes. However, there’d been nothing but a bland, mild expression on Sara Foscari’s face as she’d gazed calmly about the room, checking that her guest had everything she might need.

  By the time Antonia had unpacked her suitcase, had a cool shower in the en-suite bathroom, and joined Sara in the large sitting room for a drink before dinner, it seemed that Lorenzo had vanished.

  ‘Yes, it seems that he did have to go away quite sud­denly,’ Sara told her with a shrug, when it gradually dawned on Antonia that he wasn’t going to join them for dinner. ‘And no—I’m afraid that I can’t tell you where he’s gone.’

  ‘Can’t—or won’t?’ Antonia demanded, not caring if she was being rude. Because the sudden disappearance of her client was a very serious matter indeed.

  ‘Ah...a bit of both!’ Sara murmured with a mischievous grin, suddenly looking so like her son for a moment that it took Antonia a few seconds to pull herself together.

  ‘Now, please understand, Signora Foscari,’ she said in a hard, firm voice. ‘There’s no problem if Lorenzo has just popped out to spend the night with one of his girlfriends. Yes, he should have told me of his intentions before he left. Especially as he knows I’m hardly likely to be shocked by anything he might get up to. But it’s not the end of the world.

  ‘However...’ she continued grimly, ‘if he’s taken off for parts unknown, and you really don’t know where he’s gone—or even when he’s likely to return—that’s definitely a different kettle of fish!’

  ‘Well ...I’m not sure...’

  ‘I obviously don’t need to remind you, Sara, that some­one has threatened to kill your son. So, if you do know where he is, you’d better tell me. Lorenzo has now put me in a very difficult position. And my next step must be to start pressing the panic buttons, and contact the local po­lice.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Antonia, but my son did not tell me where he was going.’ Sara gave a heavy sigh. ‘I may have my suspicions, of course, but I really don’t know for certain.’

  ‘OK ...but that still leaves me up a creek without a pad­dle, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Look, why don’t we relax, have another drink, and see if we can’t sort this out?’ the older woman said soothingly. ‘When Lorenzo left, he did promise to call me twice a day, so that we’d know that he was all right. So, why not wait and see if he phones tonight, before pressing too many panic buttons?’

  Antonia looked at her steadily for a moment, before shrugging her shoulders.

  ‘OK. I’ll go along with that,’ she sighed. ‘But, if he doesn’t ring, I’m going to be in deep trouble.’

  Fortunately for Antonia’s peace of mind, Lorenzo did phone his mother later that night. After a rapid exchange of Italian-which Antonia wasn’t been able to understand, but which sounded as if his mother was giving him an earful!-she passed the phone to her guest.

  ‘OK, you foul man—where the hell are you?’ she de­manded, before he had a chance to say anything.

  ‘Ah, cara—relax! Surely you know that...?’

  ‘Don’t give me any of that Italian soft-soap!’ she ground out angrily. ‘How in the heck am I supposed to act as your bodyguard if I haven’t got a body to guard?’

  ‘I’m sorry. It was unavoidable. I’ve had to sort out a long-standing problem; to settle some unfinished business. However, I have already dealt with the insurance company and Mr Riley—who have been very understanding. I will be back in three days’ time.’

  ‘Well, don’t think that I won’t check that out with James Riley—because I most certainly will. First thing in the morning!’ she retorted, before realising that he’d already terminated the call.

  ‘Oh, great!’ she muttered, grimacing as she put down the phone. ‘Now what?’

  ‘Well...’ Sara Foscari murmured. ‘If what my son says is true, then why not relax and enjoy a brief holiday here, with me? Maybe a break from your duties might be a good idea?’

  ‘That sounds marvellous,’ Antonia agreed, with a grate­ful smile. ‘Although I’ll have to check up with London, of course.’

  As it happened, James Riley, rushed off his feet with more work than he could cope with, merely grumbled, ‘Yeah, your client has squared everything with his insur­ance company. No...no, I don’t know what’s going on. And who cares, anyway? Relax and enjoy!’

  And Sara had been quite right about her needing a break from her duties, Antonia acknowledged now relishing the feel of the soft night breeze on her cheeks, out here on her balcony.

  For what seemed the first time in weeks, she’d been hav­ing no problem in falling asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. And, having nothing to do all day but read books or take long walks in the beech woods, she was now feeling far less stressed out than when she’d arrived here, only a few days ago.

  Lorenzo had kept his word, regularly calling Sara from his unknown destination. But Antonia had declined to speak to him. ‘You can tell your son that I’m on holiday—­and not to be disturbed!’ she’d said firmly, deciding there was no point in having a major row on the phone. There’d be plenty of time for that on his return!

  The sound of an owl hooting down in the valley broke into her thoughts, reminding Antonia that it was late, and clearly time she went to bed.

  Much later, as a strange sound disturbed the depths of her heavy slumber, she drowsily opened her eyes to see the first pale light of dawn seeping in through the open balcony window.

  ‘Damn owl!’ she muttered, and was just falling back into a deep sleep, when she became aware of someone slipping into bed beside her.

  Jerked instantly awake, with every nerve-end screaming alarm, she struggled to sit up—only to feel strong, warm hands gripping her shoulders, pulling her back down on to the pillows. Then she heard the familiar sound of Lorenzo’s low voice, murmuring endearments as he moved to trap her beneath his naked body, which was cool and damp from a recent shower.

  ‘Wh-what...?’ she gasped, her brain still heavy and slug­gish with sleep. ‘Where.. .where have you been? What are you doing here? In my room?’

  ‘I have been dealing with a problem. Which has now been finally sorted out. And that is the end of the matter,’ he told her firmly, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her brow as he stared down into her drowsy eyes.

  ‘Anyway—much more importantly—I have been forced to have far too many cold baths lately! Which is ridiculous, no? Why should I not sleep with the woman whom I have come to love with all my heart? And who, I fervently hope, loves me in return?’

  ‘You ... you truly love me?’ she murmured, still only half awake and not entirely sure that she wasn’t, in fact, in the midst of a rapturous, happy dream—which would dissolve and melt away under the strong light of day.

  ‘But of course! How can you doubt it? Surely you must

  know how much you mean to me? Just as I know that you have so many doubts and fears about our involvement, my darling,’ he whispered thickly, pressing soft kisses on her trembling lips. ‘But here, in the peace and tranquillity of my home, surely we can try to work through such prob­lems? To build a strong relationship on the foundation of the deep feelings we have for one another?’

  ‘Oh, Lorenzo!’

  ‘My lovely, passionate Antonia,’ he whispered huskily, his hands sweeping over the warm curves of her body. ‘I was nearly driven mad when you called a halt to our love­making. Such terrible frustration! Such a deep longing to hold you in my arms, like this,’ he muttered thickly, a fierce excitement scorching through her as his mouth closed pos­sessively over first one swollen nipple and then t
he next.

  The increasing urgency of their mutual need seemed to detonate a fiery explosion of raw passion, utterly beyond their control. Seemingly in the grip of a primitive, primeval urge to totally possess one another, there seemed no inch of her that he didn’t savour.

  His mouth and hands became exquisite instruments of torture, leading her from one ecstatically erotic sensation to another, and inciting her to wantonly delight in the strong, muscular contours of his body, the intimate touch of her lips and fingers causing him to groan out loud in ecstasy. And then, with a deep, impatient growl, he swept her legs apart, entering her with one fierce thrust. The strongly rhythmic, pulsating friction of his powerful body immedi­ately ignited a mutual flame of searing intensity, until they climaxed together in an explosion of exquisite joy and plea­sure.

  Dazed by passion, and feeling as if she was slowly free­falling back down to earth, Antonia found herself folded within his arms, her cheek nestling comfortably against his chest as he gently stroked her hair.

  ‘You are a very special woman,’ he told her softly. ‘And I regard myself as being a very, very fortunate man.’

  ‘Mmm...’ Antonia gave a happy sigh of total content­ment. ‘If you reverse the sexes, I’d say Ditto...’ she mur­mured drowsily, before slowly slipping into a deep sleep.

  Realising that, despite their new-found happiness, she still had her duties to perform, Antonia asked Sara the next morning for permission to carry out a careful examination of the house and grounds, explaining that she needed to familiarise herself with the layout of the various exits and entrances, in case of any active threat to Lorenzo’s life. ‘

  ‘Of course, my dear,’ Sara agreed, leading her guest on a thorough and exhaustive tour of the house and grounds.

  ‘Well...’ Antonia finally sighed and shook her head. ‘I think we’ll just have to hope and pray that the police soon catch up with the guy who’s threatening your son. Because quite honestly,’ she continued with a shrug, ‘I reckon this place is an absolute rabbit warren of nooks and crannies, old staircases and vast cellars. I’ll probably have to call on additional help if the situation looks like getting tricky.’

  ‘Your job sounds absolutely fascinating,’ the older woman said, sinking down on to a bench in the far corner of the garden and patting the seat beside her. ‘I must con­fess that I’ve been dying to hear all about it.’

  ‘It’s actually rather boring most of the time,’ Antonia told her, before giving Lorenzo’s mother a brief outline of her usual duties. She also told her about her new project, I running courses to teach driving skills and simple self­-defence.

  ‘I can see that it might well be rather tedious at times. Especially looking after businessmen like Lorenzo, who we all know to be a total workaholic. Incidentally, I suppose you know the naughty man has returned home at last?’

  ‘Yes,’ Antonia nodded, carefully avoiding Sara’s eyes. ‘And, since he is stubbornly refusing to discuss his ab­sence,’ she added with a sigh, ‘I still haven’t a clue where he’s been for the past few days.’

  Sara gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘He’s exactly like his father. I loved my husband very deeply—indeed, not a day goes by, even after all these years, when I don’t think about him and our wonderful, if very brief married life together,’ she said softly, staring across the sun-dappled lawn towards the mountains rising in the far distance.

  ‘However,’ she added, clearly giving herself a quick, mental shake, ‘my dearest Enrico was a typical Italian male. “Never apologise—never explain” might be their motto. Believe me, dear, they’re all prima donnas!’ she said with a laugh as she rose from the seat, giving Antonia a friendly pat on the shoulder, before going off to have a word with one of the gardeners, working on the other side of the lawn.

  How true! Antonia thought with a grin as she walked slowly back towards Lorenzo’s wing of the house.

  ‘Where have you been?’ he demanded angrily as she walked in through the French window. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’

  She gazed at him in quick alarm. ‘Why? Is there anything wrong?’

  ‘No,’ he told her curtly. ‘I just wanted to know where you were. You are supposed to be my bodyguard.’

  ‘Even bodyguards are allowed a few minutes off duty!’ she snapped. How could she possibly have imagined that she was in love with Lorenzo? He was rude, overbearing and ...and utterly impossible!

  ‘Whether you are off or on duty makes not the slightest difference when I have an urgent need to hold you,’ he said, quickly crossing the floor to sweep her up in his arms.

  Then, as always happened when she found herself in his embrace, with his lips moving over hers with a languorous sensuality, she was powerless to resist the instantaneous, passionate response of her own trembling body.

  ‘Just a minute! I need to talk to you,’ she muttered, suddenly realising that there was a problem that she had to raise with him as soon as possible.

  ‘We will make love first—talk comes later,’ he told her huskily.

  ‘No...’ She shook her head. ‘We’ve got to get something sorted out. This is important!’ she added hurriedly as he began pressing soft kisses over her face.

  ‘Nothing is more important than the fact that I want and need you,’ he told her firmly, before possessing her lips in a warm, tender kiss.

  ‘No ...really...’ she gasped breathlessly some minutes later. ‘You seem to have forgotten that I’m currently em­ployed by your insurance company as your bodyguard.’

  ‘I have no problem with that,’ he drawled lazily, his eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘In fact, carina, it must be ob­vious that my body badly needs your attention—right now!’ he added, pulling her closer to his tall figure and leaving her in no doubt of his arousal.

  But Antonia refused to be sidetracked.

  ‘How could I look after you if an assassin suddenly ap­peared when we were making love, for instance? I’d be hopelessly trapped in your arms, and totally unable to save your life. And it’s no good telling me to ignore the prob­lem—because I can’t.’

  It seemed as if he was about to open his mouth and say something, when he hesitated, staring fixedly down at the girl in his arms before giving a slight shrug of his broad shoulders.

  ‘Very well, my darling; I will accept what you say. Which means we have a problem which must be resolved, no?’

  Buried in thought for a moment, he suddenly clicked his fingers. ‘Yes, I think I have a solution to the problem. How about if, during the day, I am a model of good behaviour? If I am either working at my desk—or taking you out in the car, to show you places of interest in this area? And I try not to embrace you too frequently?

  ‘However, at night,’ he continued, ‘when I insist on per­sonally guarding your body, I will arrange to have security guards patrolling the house and garden. Would you find that acceptable?’

  She thought hard and long for a moment. ‘OK...’ she agreed slowly as his arms tightened about her. ‘Yes, that would probably be all right.’

  ‘Well, thank goodness for that! Now, my darling Antonia, could I please ask you to concentrate on a far more important subject?’ he said huskily, giving her a quick kiss, before taking her hand and leading her swiftly upstairs to his bedroom.

  She wasn’t, of course, entirely convinced that Lorenzo would keep his side of the bargain. And so she took the precaution of slipping silently out of his bed, very early one morning, to check whether there really were guards patrolling the area.

  ‘You should have known that I always keep my word,’ Lorenzo grunted sleepily, pulling her firmly into his arms as she slipped back into bed once more.

  ‘Yes, well ...you’d better tell those guys to get rid of those huge semi-automatics. Who do they think they are?’

  ‘Just thugs for hire,’ he murmured, rolling over to trap her soft body beneath his, possessing her mouth with a kiss of such intensity that it wasn’t until the next day that she found herself wondering w
hether he’d been joking.

  However, deciding that she really didn’t want to know who they were or where he’d found them, she abandoned herself to the sheer pleasure of loving and being loved by Lorenzo.

  The next week seemed to fly by, with each day following another like sparkling crystal beads on a string of pure hap­piness.

  While Lorenzo was, of course, forced to do a good deal of work, he was still able to show her much of the surrounding countryside, and they visited many places of his­toric interest.

  Florence was very crowded at this time of year, and so they only paid a short visit to the Uffizi, with its amazing collection of fifteenth-century art. Unfortunately, Lorenzo—impatient with the heat and the crowds—allowed her only a brief view of the Ponte Vecchio, the famous bridge over the River Arno, where jewellers’ and gold­smiths’ shops had been in existence since the Middle Ages.

  ‘It is far too hot,’ he stated firmly. ‘We will come back here in September, when there are less crowds and you can see everything in more comfort. But now we will go some­where cool for lunch, yes?’ he said, before driving them to a restaurant high up in the hills at Fiesole, where they en­joyed a long, lazy meal, before returning home in the cool of the early evening.

  She loved Pisa, with its leaning tower, and San Gimignano, a small medieval town, famous for its numer­ous towers visible from a great distance. But it was the trip to Siena, to view the Palio, which she found most thrilling.

  Goodness knows how, but Lorenzo had somehow ob­tained seats in a building overlooking the campo, the main square of Siena—an amazing area paved in red brick and marble. And it seemed as if the whole city had turned out to watch the horse race, in which the jockeys, wearing col­ourful medieval costumes, paraded through the town before racing three circuits, at breakneck speed, around the square.