by Rachel Lyndhurst; Carmen Falcone; Ros Clarke; Annie Seaton; Christine Bell
…
Tom’s weight pressed down on Brianna and she shivered. He trailed his fingers around the inside of her thighs while she caught her breath. She reached down, needing to feel, to touch, desperate to get closer to him. Her seeking fingers encircled his warm flesh.
“Now,” she moaned as her senses leaped into overdrive. Satisfied on one level, she needed to feel him inside her, and she moved her hips against him in a plea for completion. She held his gaze as his control disappeared, and he thrust into her in one swift movement. He filled her and in a sudden rush of panic, she was overwhelmed with a feeling of absolute vulnerability as warmth rushed into her chest. Her throat tightened and tears pricked at her eyes.
Jesus.
This felt so right, it was like coming home to a place she had always wanted to be, and it terrified the hell out of her. She didn’t want this feeling, but it was too late to change her mind now.
Holy shit, what have I started?
A confident smile played around Tom’s mouth and he moved his hands to pull her closer to him and bury his face in her neck. His teeth nipped at her soft skin and a shaft of desire jolted through her and chased away her doubts. Waves of pleasure built for a second time and she stared back at him, out of control, physically and emotionally.
Even though she had been attracted to him, she had never dreamed the sex would be so powerful. She closed her eyes and let the moment overtake both of them, and all thoughts slipped from her mind.
…
Tom woke much later in the morning. The sun had passed over to the other side of the villa and the room was dim. Instead of worry in his chest and a sexy weight on his legs waking him, Brianna’s warm, even breath puffed against his lips. Her hair tickled his nose, and he opened his eyes as one of his favorite songs flitted through his thoughts.
I could stay lost in this moment forever.
He stroked his hand down her cheek and pushed her hair away from her face back onto the pillow. She sighed in her sleep, snuggled into him, and her soft breasts pushed into his bare chest. His body responded, and he leaned closer to nuzzle his lips into her cheek.
“It’s time we were up,” he murmured.
A rhythmic creaking sound drifted in through the open window, and he lifted his head away from her hair and turned to the sound. The grating of a key in the metal gate on the back balcony followed. He shook Brianna’s shoulder when he heard a voice call out, “Allo? Allo?”
“Brianna,” he whispered. “There’s somebody in the kitchen.”
“What?” She sat up and smiled at him, her expression relaxed and contented.
“There’s somebody in the kitchen.” His words were confirmed by the running of water and the clanging of dishes in the sink. Then a quavering female voice burst into song.
Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, Ting-a-ling-a-ling and you’ll sing, ‘Vita bella’
Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay
Tippy-tippy-tay like a gay tarantella.
“What the fuck? Who’s in my house?” Brianna clutched the sheet, wrapping it around her as she climbed out of bed. She marched to the door, followed closely by Tom, who grabbed his jeans from the floor and pulled them on. He put his hands on Brianna’s shoulder and stepped past her. A short elderly woman with rosy cheeks and gray hair pulled tight into a bun grinned at them across the living room. She clapped her hands delightedly and laughed.
“Oh, so happy for you…so, so happy!”
“Ah, excuse me,” Brianna said. “Who are you and where did you get the key to…er…my house?”
The woman shuffled across the tiles and met them at the doorway. She grabbed Brianna and kissed her on both cheeks, and Tom reached for the sheet when it started to slip.
“Oh, you are so like your mama.” Tears welled in the woman’s eyes.
“You knew my mother?”
“I am your prozia Maria and that foolish old man sent me here to spy on you,” she said. “And to cook and clean,” she added as an afterthought.
“Prozia?” Brianna turned to Tom with a quizzical look.
“Great-aunt,” he said.
He turned Brianna back into the room and a flush warmed his neck while he spoke to Maria. It would be obvious to anyone they’d been in bed together and Brianna’s slumberous eyes and flushed cheeks confirmed it. Even though they were technically married, guilt settled in his chest.
“We’ll be out in a moment. Perhaps you could put some coffee on?”
“Nessuna fretta…no hurry. And I will cook for you prima colazione.” A broad smile crossed her wrinkled face and she spread her arms wide. “You need to build up your energy again.”
Wiping her eyes, she beamed at him with delight and turned back to the kitchen.
Tom nodded, bemused, and then followed Brianna to the bathroom, attempting not to step on the bedsheet trailing along behind her. He closed the door quickly when she dropped the sheet. She stepped across to the shower and turned the jets on, at ease with her nudity. When she turned to him and held out her hand, he was tempted to forget all about the woman waiting in the kitchen.
“I have more family. She knew my mother. I am so, so happy.” She looked across at him with a cheeky grin. “Want to wash my back?”
Tom gulped and resisted the invitation. He kept his gaze locked on her face, trying to forget the feel of her bare body pressed against his minutes ago. “No, come on. We have to sort out what she’s doing here.”
“No one said the house came with a housekeeper and a cook,” she said with a smile.
…
Ten minutes later, after they’d washed and dressed, the aroma of cooking enticed them to the kitchen. Maria clucked around, fussing until she was satisfied their plates were loaded with sausages stuffed with tomato and cheese. She filled a plate with delicate pastries from a basket in the kitchen and placed a large jug of what looked like crushed strawberry ice in the middle of the table.
Brianna leaned over the table and dipped her finger in and licked it.
“Mm. What is that?”
“Granita…from your strawberries.” Aunt Maria pointed to the baskets hanging outside the kitchen window.
“My strawberries.” Brianna turned to Tom with a delighted smile on her face.
After pouring fragrant coffee into three large mugs, Great-Aunt Maria sat down at the table with them, and folded her hands across her ample stomach and beamed.
“He ees a stupid old man,” she said in a firm voice. “And I will tell him so.”
Tom looked across at Brianna, concern spiking through his chest. He was keen to see her reaction. After all, here was yet another family member she hadn’t known about. She’d been burdened with so much over the past few days, and they hadn’t even had a chance to talk about them ending up in bed this morning. All agreements had flown out the window and now he had no idea where things stood between then.
Or where he wanted them to stand.
He needn’t have worried. Brianna pointed to the food laid out on the table.
“Thank you. Can I call you Aunt Maria?” A wide smile crossed Brianna’s face. “I can’t quite get used to having a family. You will have to tell me all about everyone. I can’t wait to meet them. Do they live on Lipari?”
Aunt Maria had a working knowledge of English, and with Tom translating between them, they managed to get the gist of what she had said about the foolish old man—Brianna’s grandfather.
“He no trust.” She wagged a finger. “He thinks you only want ze house.”
The guilt stuck in Tom’s throat and he looked up and caught Brianna’s eye. She shook her head imperceptibly.
“But I was not going to tell him what I saw.” She cackled with delight. “Now I can tell him ze truth and tell him what I saw.”
She drained her coffee and smacked her lips.
“Sunday—at the big house. You will come for dinner and meet all the family. Si?”
Tom looked across at Brianna and she nodded enthusiastically.
“Si.”
Aunt Maria gave Tom directions to find the big house in Lipari and what time to arrive. She gathered up her empty baskets after telling him she would be back each morning to prepare their evening meal. Tom and Brianna followed her to the door and waved to her as she wheeled her bicycle out the gate.
He turned to Brianna as Aunt Maria disappeared down the hill. The worry that had been niggling at him since he woke up came back in full force.
“Brianna. I think we need to have a chat about the terms of our agreement…now.”
…
His less-than-subtle reminder of the need to discuss their agreement, and right now, fired her temper. For Christ’s sake, they’d had sex, she’d just met her second relative and found out she had a whole family on the island waiting to meet her, and he wanted to have a chat now. Deep down, she knew her anger was fueled by her unexpected reaction to being with him this morning, but she buried the thought as deep as she could. Her life was complicated enough without going there.
Now.
Determined to present a light “things aren’t serious” front to him, she pushed her chair back and came around the table and placed her hands on his shoulders. Bending her head, she brushed her lips lightly across his.
“Now, Tomas, why do we need to talk?” She looked at him from under her lashes and ran her hand down his chest. “We already have a signed agreement. The only difference is that sex is now part of it. So if you want to add a—what do you call it?—condition, codicil, postscript, or whatever, just do it and I’ll initial it. I’ve apologized to you for being a bitch and nothing else has changed. Has it?”
He looked at her without speaking and she felt like a right cow again, but she was damned if he was going to see the effect he’d had on her. She needed to put those feelings away and think about it later.
“So,” she continued. “We’re married. My grandfather is satisfied. You have your work at the marina. I have my book to write, and we also get the benefit of great sex.”
She patted his shoulder, feigning a confidence she didn’t have, and turned away before he could see her pursed lips. She was as nervous as hell about what he wanted. If he wanted out of the agreement already, she didn’t know what she’d do. And not just because of her mother’s villa. Gathering the dishes from the table, she walked across to the sink.
“Agreed?” she said evenly. She needed to be in control here.
When he didn’t answer, she turned around and came face-to-face with him. He’d walked silently over to the sink in his bare feet. He placed his cup on the draining board, lined up neatly next to the other dishes. She waited for him to disagree, but he pushed his body against hers and bent his head. He wound her hair through his fingers and took her mouth in a hot kiss. Her head spun and she grasped at his shirt to keep her balance. Her back pressed into the cold stone of the sink and she moaned as his tongue plundered the depths of her mouth. Pulling back, he looked at her.
“We’ll change the agreement. Friends with benefits.”
Chapter Eleven
The hot morning sun burned Tom’s skin as he rubbed the sandpaper up and down the bottom of the boat. Aunt Carmen had gone to Naples to visit her daughter, and he’d taken over the running of the marina. Matteo, the young boatman, had shown him how to strip the paint and remove the old putty and caulking cotton in the boats lined up for recaulking. He grinned to himself. If Nick and Alex could see him now, they would give him a hard time. But the rhythmic motion of the sandpaper was what he needed to ease his temper this afternoon. It was much better than poring over the jumbled financial records. He’d borrowed Matteo’s car and taken the boxes of financial records across to the villa. He had spread them out on an old table on the covered balcony, and it would give him something to focus on after dinner each night and help him stay away from Brianna.
He cursed himself for succumbing to her temptation so readily. The idea had been that he would come to Lipari and start living life on his terms, enjoy himself, and he’d only been here a week and he had screwed up big-time. But when he’d woken up with her in his arms this morning, a deep contentment had filled him.
For him it was always about more than just the sex, more than friends with benefits. And that’s where he usually came unstuck. If that’s all she was after, fine, she could damn well go without—he was not going to risk getting caught up in an emotional mess. He’d been there and done that before. They’d added the friends with benefits clause to the agreement, but she could run around the house naked for all he cared. He was not interested on those terms.
“Shit,” he swore as he missed the timber and sliced his finger open on a bent nail.
Like hell he wasn’t interested, but he was still going to ignore her. No way would he let her know the effect she was having on him. He wasn’t going to risk being hurt again.
…
Later that evening, Brianna looked over her wineglass at Tom as they sat on the terrace overlooking the sea, appreciating the aroma of the spaghetti sauce Aunt Maria had left bubbling on the stove. She’d left instructions for adding the seafood from the refrigerator and cooking the spaghetti, which made Brianna feel very clever, having been able to put the simple meal together.
A fat moon hung low over the ocean and silver trails shimmered on the long, lazy swells that pushed into the shore. The salty tang of the sea breeze mixed with the aroma coming from the kitchen.
“I’ve never been able to cook, you know,” she said to Tom, determined to engage him in conversation. He had answered each of her questions in monosyllables since he’d arrived home from Lipari late in the afternoon, and he’d not initiated one conversation. He’d disappeared straight into the bathroom and come out half an hour later in clean clothes. Trying to hide how his lack of conversation was bothering her, she prattled on.
“Aunt Maria left very simple instructions so I hope it turns out.”
“I’m sure it will.” He raised the glass to his lips and stared out over the sea.
She couldn’t hold back any longer. “Oh, for pity’s sake, stop acting like a spoiled wee child who can’t get his own way.”
He raised his eyebrows. For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer. When he swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed, she realized he was trying not to react to her goading.
“I think you have a bit of growing up to do, speaking of ‘wee’ children,” he said, picking up the carafe and gesturing to her glass. Brianna burned up, not liking the look on his face or the tone of his voice. She ignored his offer.
“Why?” she asked. “Because I’m honest about my feelings and I know what I want and I go for it?”
His mouth, the same mouth that had taken her to paradise and back that very morning, turned up in a patient smile.
“No, because you can’t accept that when I’m being honest about my feelings, I’m entitled to my opinion. I think if we sleep together it’s going to put our arrangement at risk. That’s the way I feel and you’ll have to accept it, because you won’t change my mind.”
The warmth of a flush burned its way up her neck and she blessed her olive complexion. How dare he try to make her feel bad about seducing him this morning?
“I don’t recall you thinking that way earlier,” she said coldly. “In fact, I recall you were a more-than-willing participant.” She locked her gaze with his and was pleased to see that a pulse flicked in his cheek and twin spots of color darkened his skin. “And you added the friends with benefits bit to the agreement.”
“So we’ve got all bases covered then,” he said. “If you’re happy for me to keep living here, I’ll be most grateful. I’ll sort out the finances, you can write your book, and when the right time comes, I’ll head back to Australia or wherever the mood takes me. You’ll have your villa and we’ll both be happy.”
“Fine.” She tossed her head. “That suits me fine too.” She was still a bit unnerved, never having felt so connected with anyone before. He’d ignored her ment
ion of the benefits, but she’d be damned if she’d bring up the sex again.
They both sat there glaring at each other until a bubble of mirth escaped from Brianna’s mouth.
“I’m sorry.” She put her hand up to her quivering lips. “I’ve never been able to stay mad. I always lose an argument. My brothers and sister always won and I had to do their chores because they would bet me I couldn’t keep a straight face.”
Finally, Tom smiled back at her. “It’s not such a bad thing. I was always the serious one in our family. Must be a personality type I inherited.”
He stood and came and kneeled beside her chair, and picked up her hand. A frisson of warmth ran up her arm. “You bring out the worst in me, Brianna. Do you think you can put up with me and my hang-ups for a few months?”
“Oh, Tom, you don’t have any hang-ups. And there’s nothing to put up with. There’s not a lot you don’t know about me.” Brianna looked down at his hand and ran her thumb over a cut on his finger. “Look, I’ll be honest. I don’t do emotion well. I do sex, I am a loyal friend, but I don’t do emotion.” She laughed when she saw the expression of his face. “It’s okay, I have a very happy life, and I live it on my terms. Now, let’s make a new deal.”
“Agreement version three? Let me go and get the piece of paper.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Forget the paper. Stay living here with me. I need to convince that cantankerous old grandfather of mine that I really am his granddaughter and this house is mine. I want it and I’m going to keep it. I want to find out as much as I can about my mother and why she gave me up. There’s all that stuff of hers I haven’t even looked at yet.” She squeezed his hand. “And I’ll help you chill out and we’ll work on your list and have a great time together, and then you can pay me back.” She burst out laughing at the skeptical look on his face. “You are so easy to read. Don’t worry, there’s no sex in my equation.”
