‘Why didn’t you tell me then?’
‘You were in the shower, Sofia. I didn’t think you’d appreciate me interrupting you.’ He looked up and raised his eyebrows at her, his gleaming eyes scanning her body as though picturing her naked even though she was fully dressed back in her jeans and conservative V-neck sweater.
‘I know we’re in the land of domani, domani.’ She gestured wildly with her hands, emphasising the ubiquitous Italian phrase that infuriated her so often when she wanted to get a job done quickly. ‘Everything can wait until tomorrow, right? But come on, how long does it take to clear a bit of rubble from the road?’
‘It’s very dangerous, the area is unstable. We don’t want anyone to get hurt, no?’
‘Of course not.’ She sighed, slumping onto the edge of the bed.
As a cloud of hopelessness started to descend, a poster on the opposite wall above the small sofa caught Sofia’s eye. A picture of an elderly farmer riding a donkey carrying a heavy load up a steep winding road.
‘What about a donkey?’ She jumped up, pointing excitedly at the poster. ‘We could ride a donkey down the mountain. They can navigate rough terrain, right?’
Roberto looked at her as though she was mad. ‘Sure, we’ll go into town tomorrow and get a donkey. No, let’s go now, they can see in the dark, yes?’ He bit on his lip clearly trying to stifle a laugh.
‘You think this is funny?’ She glowered at him, shaking the towel off her head as her skin prickled with irritation. ‘At least I’m trying to think of a solution. The festival starts next week. I have to be back at Bonaparte’s tomorrow or I won’t be ready for the gala.’
‘It’s out of our control. At least we have a roof over our head, food in the fridge.’
‘But nothing else. I’ve got no supplies for my chocolate. I still need to test my Valentine’s recipe.’
‘You’ll be able to get whatever you need here. I believe Baraldo has become a, what do you call... a foodie town?’
‘You don’t understand.’ Sofia rubbed her eyes. The ingredients were the least of her problems. She’d arranged for the Bonaparte’s sous chef in Florence to work with her in Annabella’s absence to ensure she achieved the right balance of flavours.
My guardian angel. Her sister’s tremulous voice haunted Sofia’s thoughts. She’d assured her little sister she had nothing to worry about except getting better. She’d vowed to always protect her just as she’d promised their mother before she died.
Sofia looked at Roberto peering into the fridge again.
‘Are you seriously thinking about food right now?’
‘It’s been a long day Sofia, I haven’t eaten for hours. Let’s see... we have prosciutto, mozzarella—’
‘How are you so calm?’
‘Because there’s no point trying to control something you have no control over. Your sister helped me learn that lesson the hard way.’ He glanced up from the fridge with a tight smile. ‘A donkey’s not the answer okay? We wait until the road is clear and in the meantime we work with what we’ve got.’
He took a large wedge of parmigiano, a plate of prosciutto and some olives out of the fridge and placed them next to a loaf of ciabatta bread on the small dining table.
‘Now, how about a little antipasti?’ He pulled out a chair, seemingly satisfied that the decision to stay had been made.
Sofia’s stomach churned with a sudden pang of hunger. She’d missed her morning smoothie and her head still buzzed from Bianca’s generous shot of grappa.
She looked despondently at Roberto’s traditional Italian spread. Indulgent flavours from a lifetime ago when Sofia had happily ignored the extra padding around her middle in favour of such culinary delights.
But since her accident any food once pleasurable had become cruel reminders of what she’d lost. In the beginning, consumed by depression, her body had wasted away. Only the fear in Annabella’s stricken eyes had given Sofia the motivation to eat. Over the last few years, her therapist had helped her gradually regain her health, eating properly to fuel her body so it wouldn’t break down again.
She noticed some bananas and an industrial blender on the marble counter.
‘I’ll make a smoothie.’
‘Your choice.’ Roberto shook his head as he tore off a chunk of bread and piled it with thin slices of cured meat and a generous hunk of parmesan cheese.
Sofia surveyed the contents of the fridge and took out some mineral water, baby spinach, almonds, red chilli and an apple to add to the banana.
Inhale Sofia. She summoned her therapist’s calming voice as she chopped the fruit into large chunks. You’re stranded on a mountain with your family’s nemesis but you will be fine. Exhale.
Roberto’s phone vibrated interrupting Sofia’s feeble attempt at meditation. She glimpsed over her shoulder at him. His brow furrowed as he read a text message.
‘I have to make a call,’ he said distractedly, studying his phone as he got up from the table and marched across the room. ‘The signal is weak in here, I shouldn’t be long.’ A gust of cold air rushed inside the flat as he opened the door and without looking at Sofia, closed it firmly behind him.
Breathe. You are warm, you are nourished, you’ll be okay. Sofia dropped the remaining ingredients into the jug with some ice from the small freezer and poured in the mineral water. Closing the lid she watched the contents quickly whizz into a familiar thick green sludge. A hypnotic blur of goodness. Healing her gut. Her therapist would be proud.
Sofia quickly drank the viscous liquid, conscious of its slimy texture in her mouth before it slid down her throat to nourish her aching stomach, the heat of the chilli offering a pleasing reminder that she wasn’t completely numb.
Two days. She rinsed out the empty jug leaving it to drain in the sink and surveyed the studio’s neat kitchen. It was adequate and surprisingly well equipped. Providing she could get the ingredients she needed she’d be able to test her recipe here.
She’d have to find someone suitable in town to sample her chocolate and give her the feedback she desperately needed. Anyone was more trustworthy than Roberto. But what were the chances of finding someone in Baraldo with a palate as sophisticated and polished as his?
Sofia paced around the small space trying to clear her increasingly foggy head. She should have eaten earlier. The poster on the wall caught her attention again. Why not a donkey? Had it been such a crazy idea?
Why should she listen to Mr Know-It-All Roberto Conti. With his perfect smile and unexpected easy charm with the locals. And his surprising sensitivity to her safety in the car as they’d wound up the frightening cliff edge of the mountain. And most annoyingly, that chiselled body that made her feel all kinds of unwanted desire.
Sofia’s head started to whirl and she caught her balance on the edge of the kitchen countertop. Exhaling loudly, she closed her eyes beckoning her therapist’s reassuring voice but instead a vision of Roberto’s gold-flecked torso shone brightly in her mind’s eye.
Her imagination ignited with a sultry vision of them alone under bright studio lights. Roberto’s muscular arms rippling as he wrapped them around her waist, drawing her against his warm, hard body. Lifting her into his sensual embrace, his bare skin rubbing against her naked thigh. Sofia gripped the bench behind her as a euphoric sensation rushed through her blood. Without smell or taste her other senses were heightened and she was acutely aware of a delicious warmth circulating through her body, invigorating her as her inhibitions melted away.
Sultry jazz emanating from the courtyard outside slipped into her consciousness and her hips began to sway gently in time with the evocative music. The mellow rhythm and honey-soaked vocals seeped into her pulsing muscles, fuelling her sense of liberation.
Her head whirled a little more as she encouraged the arousing imagery of Roberto’s caresses to play in her mind. She rolled her tongue around her mouth, luxuriating in the sensual action, as though engaging in an imagined kiss. Her skin pricked with anticipation as s
he arched back slightly, a visceral response to her increasingly dirty thoughts. As the volume of the smooth beats outside increased a wave of confidence swelled inside Sofia. Rising within her, she felt invincible.
‘Mamma mia, it’s freezing out there.’ Sofia’s eyes flicked open as Roberto rushed into the apartment and closed the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together as he hurried across the room to warm up by the wall heater.
‘You’re back,’ she said, her eyes gleaming at him.
* * *
Roberto sensed something different about Sofia. For one thing her face brightened with a playful grin, replacing the usual scowl she saved for him when they were alone.
‘Everything okay?’ he asked warily.
‘Fine.’ She held his gaze as her hips swayed provocatively against the countertop. ‘You?’
‘Bene, just some business I had to take care of.’ He tossed his phone on the dining table, his body still buzzing from his hopeful conversation with his uncle.
Roberto searched Sofia’s expression for a hint at the change in her demeanour. But her eyes just glimmered at him coquettishly, seemingly welcoming his attention. As though she was... flirting?
‘Hmmm. You’re very good at taking care of business aren’t you?’ There was no mistaking her suggestive tone. She was breathing quite heavily and the visible rise and fall of her breasts made Roberto’s cock twitch.
‘I like to get the job done.’ He smiled, more than happy to play along. He cautiously took a step closer to her not wanting to break whatever spell Sofia was under. His night was getting better by the second.
‘So I’ve heard,’ she giggled. ‘Everyone knows about the great lothario Roberto Conti and his harem of women on quick rotation.’
Roberto had no idea what was going on here, but his body roused at Sofia’s saucy innuendo. ‘I wouldn’t say quick rotation.’ Another step.
‘But never long enough to let anyone close, right?’
‘Same for you, no?’ He placed one hand on the bench either side of her. Sofia didn’t flinch instead she captured his gaze without hesitation, her velvety pout slightly open as though ready for his kiss.
‘I keep my friends close,’ she purred.
‘And your enemies closer? You’re full of surprises.’ Roberto leant down and brushed his lips against her smooth neck. As her skin shivered at his touch, heat rushed through his body, thrilling at the effect he had on her. She arched her head back, inviting him to continue.
He nuzzled into her nape as he stroked his hands up her spine and ran his fingers through her thick hair, still damp from her shower. An image of her naked flesh under hot flowing water sprang to life in his mind, the invigorating citrus scent on her skin feeding his desire to taste her again.
‘I’ve wanted you like this from the moment I saw you in that sexy chef’s jacket.’
‘Me too.’ Sofia breathed heavily and grabbed his butt, thrusting her petite torso against his growing need.
Instantly aroused by her forceful initiative, Roberto’s hands shot down and clenched her pert behind, lifting her on top of the bench, the ideal height for their bodies to meld together. Sofia wrapped her legs around his waist, releasing a moan of pleasure as only fragments of denim separated them from guaranteed bliss.
Roberto trailed kisses across her décolletage as he worked one hand under her sweater, his fingertips skimming across her soft, bare stomach, up to caress the heavenly breasts that had tormented him since they’d met. He brushed his thumb over her erect nipple straining through the delicate lace of her bra. Sofia lifted her chest as she leant back on the bench clearly delighting in his touch.
Roberto wound his hand around the back of her head, drawing her upright to meet his gaze. Their eyes locked as he continued teasing her nipple. His erection strained impatiently against the tight confines of his jeans as Sofia bit her lower lip, her expression glazing over with pleasure as her hips pushed wantonly into his.
Watching her relishing his touch brought Roberto to the brink of control. He swept both hands up to cup her face and finally devoured her teasing lips. Sofia’s eager fingers glided through his hair as she deepened their kiss with sensual abandon. Her tongue urgently wrestled with his as though she couldn’t get enough.
But as electricity skyrocketed through his veins, a familiar flavour jolted Roberto back to reality. It was suddenly obvious.
He longed to ignore the discovery and continue his erotic exploration of Sofia all night. His body hadn’t caught up with his head and it begged him not to stop. It would be so easy. So intensely satisfying.
But that wasn’t his style. And in the cold light of day, Sofia wouldn’t forgive him and their deal would be ruined. Roberto reluctantly dropped his arms and sighed heavily as he stepped back, out of her intoxicating embrace.
‘What’s wrong?’ She sat upright. ‘Oh, my head’s spinning.’ She lifted a hand to her temple.
‘I thought it might be.’ Roberto adjusted her sweater, regaining her modesty. ‘Time for bed, Sofia.’
‘I like the sound of that. The golden god in my bed,’ she growled.
Roberto clenched his jaw, breathing deeply as he fought the urge to sweep Sofia back into his arms and let her have her dirty way with him.
‘Not tonight, amore.’ He lifted her off the counter and carried her to the bed. ‘You’re drunk.’
‘Drunk? I’m not drunk,’ she slurred slightly as her head fell onto the pillow. ‘I know what I want. Come here, come lie with me.’ She patted her hand languidly beside her outstretched body.
Roberto had never known such restraint as Sofia’s eyes sparkled up at him, her dark hair fanned out around her delicate face, her parted lips red and swollen from their kiss.
‘Goodnight Sofia.’ He turned towards the bathroom. He needed a cold shower to wash away the sparks of desire that flickered furiously throughout his body.
When the time was right, Roberto wouldn’t hold back. He wanted Sofia now more than ever. But when he had her in his bed she’d know exactly what she was doing.
* * *
‘Buongiorno, bella.’ Roberto’s booming voice reverberated loudly in Sofia’s ears.
Her head sunk further into her pillow like a lead balloon. A lead balloon with a jackhammer inside it, pounding at her brain.
‘Please,’ she croaked, her tongue swollen in her parched mouth. ‘Lower the volume.’ She winced as her head throbbed with each word.
She sat up slowly and immediately whisked the duvet around her chest, realising she was in her underwear. Her eyes darted up to Roberto standing beside the bed as her mind scrambled to remember the night before.
‘Here.’ Roberto handed her a tall glass of water and pushed two white tablets out of a foil packet. ‘For your head.’
‘What are they?’ she asked suspiciously, still processing her state of undress.
‘Paracetamol.’ He showed her the packet. ‘You have a headache, no?’
‘Splitting.’ Satisfied the pills were painkillers that would soothe her thumping head, she quickly swallowed the medicine and gulped the water, greedily draining the glass.
Roberto grinned. ‘I’ll get you another.’
‘What happened last night? What did you do?’ Her heart rate accelerated and she clutched the bedcovers tighter around her body.
‘It was quite a night.’ He passed her another glass of water. ‘But I didn’t do anything, you did it to yourself.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Sofia, is there something you’d like to tell me?’ He sat on the edge of the bed, his forehead creased with the concern of a parent who already knew the answer to their question.
‘About what?’
‘You’re drinking problem.’
She scoffed. ‘I hardly think a shot of grappa is a drinking problem.’ There was no way she could have been drunk from one drink at the bar. Yet she did feel distinctly hung-over and she’d blacked out half the night.
‘One, no. But say, ten?’ He
pointed to a half-empty bottle of water on the kitchen counter.
‘What are you talking about? That’s mineral water.’ Idiot.
Maybe that Alfredo wasn’t so trustworthy and had spiked her shot when she wasn’t looking. Or more likely, Roberto. She glared at him.
‘No,’ he said patiently. ‘That’s Baraldo’s finest homemade grappa. Bianca left it here as a welcoming gift.’
Sofia’s stomach lurched with a sudden urge to vomit. ‘I put it in my smoothie.’
‘Half a bottle of grappa?’ Shock undermined Roberto’s usual cool tone.
‘It looks like mineral water. It should have a label on it.’
‘It doesn’t need a label it’s rocket fuel, as soon you open the bottle you smell it.’ He looked at her in disbelief and then, like a penny dropping, with understanding.
So now he knew. She’d unwittingly given away her secret. To Roberto Conti. More disturbingly, what else had she given him? Last night was a complete blur. She strictly avoided drinking too much, alcohol made her reckless and way too affectionate. And her lack of clothing didn’t bode well.
‘Don’t worry Sofia,’ he said as though reading her thoughts. ‘Nothing happened. I waited in the bathroom while you put yourself to bed. We didn’t... do anything.’ He looked at her steadily and she longed to believe him.
‘It would be a pretty low act to take advantage when I was drunk.’
‘I didn’t realise you were drunk until—’
Sofia gasped. ‘Until what?’
‘Until you kept me up all night... with your snoring.’ He chuckled as he stood up.
‘And before that?’ Sofia struggled to find the humour in the situation.
‘You told a few jokes. You were relaxed and I knew then something wasn’t right.’
‘Very funny.’
‘Have a shower, freshen up.’ Roberto pulled on his overcoat and walked towards the door. ‘I’ll get some espresso and meet you outside in half an hour. The fresh air will do you good, yes?’
Sofia looked at him uncertainly.
‘Nothing happened.’ He opened the door. ‘But we need to talk.’
‘Talk?’ Sofia looked at him sideways, cradling her splitting head in her palm.
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