Polly moaned, her head dropping back against his shoulder as her body arched to his caresses. Impatient, his hands gathered the material, pulling it up, and she raised her arms to allow him to remove it, but dropped them to cover herself, her face flushed in the reflection of the mirror, uncertainty returning to her eyes.
He whispered his fingertips up her arms and across her collar bones, feeling her quiver. ‘Why do you wear all these clothes to hide your figure, mio amore?’
‘I haven’t got a figure…not like Chloe and Lauren and Gemma,’ she whispered.
‘You most certainly have.’ Taking his time, he gently eased her arms from across her chest, every part of her shaking as he stroked her abdomen, slowly working up until his fingers shaped the outline of her breasts, zeroing in to the swollen dusky-pink nipples that crested them. ‘You’re beautiful…small but perfectly formed.’
To his surprise and consternation, even as her body responded instinctively to his touch and his hands slid down to unfasten her jeans, tears filled her eyes. ‘You don’t understand.’
‘I know you hate your body and it cuts me up inside that you cannot see what I see…that you are lovely and special and desirable,’ he answered, his lips skimming kisses across her bare shoulder. ‘Let me show you, Polly. Let me love you.’
‘I have a scar.’ Her voice broke. Unable to bear it any more, he turned her in his arms and gathered her close. ‘There are things I need to tell you that might change your mind.’
He cupped her face, thumbs brushing the moisture from her cheeks. ‘Nothing will change my mind and a scar is not going to put me off,’ he reassured her.
‘It’s afternoon,’ she protested weakly as he backed her towards the bed. ‘The curtains…’
‘No one can see in. And I want to see you. Just as I want to make love to you at any time of day,’ he teased, working deftly on the fastening of her jeans and brushing them and her tiny lace panties down her legs. He couldn’t help but see the scar low on her abdomen or know from its size and position that a painful story lay behind it, but he wanted her reassured before she told him. ‘Do you think I am not nervous, too,
zingarella? Do you think I am not scared?’
Sapphire-blue eyes widened. ‘You? But why?’
‘I’ve not kissed or touched a woman in nearly four years—have not done anything with anyone but Elaine since the day I met her. What if I disappoint you? It’s scary starting over with someone new.’ He saw her surprise, but laid out his own insecurities for her to see. His hands gently caressed her. She was so fragile he feared she might snap if he held her too tightly or made love to her with the fiery passion churning inside him. ‘You’re so beautiful, so slender…What if I hurt you?’
Polly was stunned as she listened to Luca’s fears. She had no doubt they were genuine and that he had them at all, that he could doubt himself, eased some of her own worries. There were things she had to tell him. He said now they wouldn’t matter, but what if they did? What if she told him first and it did put him off, and then she never knew what it would be like to make love with him? She was scared, of so many things, including what might happen afterwards, but whatever happened, she had to grasp this moment—in case it was the only one she ever had.
Filled with an uncharacteristic boldness, her hands returned to his body, her fingers tracing the corded muscles of his arms, feeling his strength, the hard muscle under warm, smooth skin. She lightly dragged her nails down his chest, through the soft, springy hair, gaining confidence as he groaned, dark eyes heavy lidded with pleasure and passion. Unable to wait another moment, she stepped up and pressed her body against him, satisfying the need to feel his chest against her own, his hair an exciting caress against her soft skin and peaked nipples that hardened even further as she rubbed herself against him.
Every millimetre of her skin was on fire from the caress of his hands exploring her own body and she was trembling from head to toe, frustrated that she couldn’t get close enough. She looked up, the hollow ache inside her intensifying at the primal look in his dark eyes.
Their mouths met, no longer with soft, gentle, safe kisses. For the first time, this was the real thing and instantly the passion ignited, exploded, enveloping them both in its blazing intensity. Polly could do nothing but surrender herself to it, lost in something extraordinary and which she had never experienced before. Neither of them had allowed the desire to take hold before, but now the passion that had simmered just beneath the surface from the first moment they had met burst free—like the eruption of a volcano blowing its top when the pressure within, building and building, could no longer be contained. It rocked her to her toes. It excited her beyond bearing. And it scared her to death.
Despite the urgency, she could sense Luca holding onto the last threads of his control. ‘I want to savour every part of you,’ he mouthed against her skin as they fell to the bed.
True to his word, his hands and his mouth drove her to near insanity as he explored every part of her body, making her feel cherished for the first time in her life, treating her with such care, and overwhelming her with the intensity of his kisses and caresses, the sinful and inventive exploits of his hands and mouth. She explored in turn, revelling in the freedom to learn all the different textures and tastes of his body.
She froze when he touched her scar with his fingers. And when he traced it with his lips, bestowing the softest, sweetest kisses, it made her cry. He was so special, so caring, and despite not knowing its cause, he’d sensed its importance to her and without words was accepting it as part of her. As if he had all the time in the world, he kissed his way up to her navel and Polly gasped. She heard Luca chuckle as she squirmed against him, warm breath tickling her skin. She’d had no idea she was so sensitive there and was still savouring the sensations when his mouth reached one of her breasts. She cried out as lips, teeth and tongue tormented supersensitive flesh before drawing her nipple into his mouth and sucking strongly, making her sob at the almost unbearable pleasure as he rolled and teased her nipple between his tongue and the roof of his mouth.
Her whole body was on fire and she needed him to fill the emptiness, to take away the terrible ache deep inside her, and she needed him to do it now. No more waiting. But he was holding back and Polly was worried it was because of the fears he had voiced. She slid her hands up his arms, feeling the tension in them as he supported his weight. Her fingers curled into taut biceps as she urged him to let go.
‘Luca, please.’
‘I don’t want to hurt you.’
‘You won’t. I’m not going to break. I need you, need this.’ She buried her face in his neck, nibbling and licking his skin, breathing in the intoxicating musky male scent of him. ‘All of you. Now. Please…’
He groaned, and she felt the shudder run through him. Looking into his eyes, she saw the passion in them, the need, and she knew the moment he gave up the struggle for control. She knew a surge of excitement, a flicker of nervousness and a sense of feminine triumph, and then she couldn’t think of anything at all but the new explosion of passion that swept them both away, whirling her into something more intimate and intense and extraordinary than she had ever imagined possible.
She welcomed the press of his body on hers and she arched up, seeking more, wrapping her legs around him, her cry mingling with his in reaction to the joyful intensity as their bodies became one with a single fluid motion. Her mouth met his in a searing kiss that stole what little breath she had left. Luca fisted the fingers of one hand in her hair, his other arm sliding under her hips to lock her to him.
It was as if their bodies recognised each other, were made for each other, moving in an age-old rhythm, immediate, demanding, out of control. Making love with Luca unleashed hidden, untapped depths of her own sensuality she had not known existed, but she threw herself into the moment, losing herself in the magical connection between them, meeting his demands and making demands of her own. They drove each other higher and higher. Polly never w
anted this incredible experience to end, but she couldn’t hold on any longer. She pleaded with him, her hands dragging at him as she tried to get ever closer, and they clung together as their pleasure crested, crying out as they spun together, freefalling into the abyss, the ecstasy indescribable.
Luca had taken her to paradise and, at that moment, she didn’t care if she ever came back to earth again.
Days turned into weeks, and the end of summer morphed into a warm, wet autumn. While the bond between herself and Luca strengthened every day, and she was drawn ever more deeply into the d’Azzaro family, Polly became increasingly scared that she wasn’t allowed to be this happy. Any time soon something would burst her bubble of joyful contentment and smash her back to earth with a bump.
Professionally, things had been hectic, Penhally Bay Surgery continuing to draw in new patients as the services offered expanded. The Saturday clinic for young people was busier than ever and Luca’s help with the youngsters was invaluable. His presence also gave her confidence to tackle the cases she found most difficult…those of young people coming to her with issues that mirrored those she had faced in her own life.
Kate had returned to work at the beginning of the month and Polly was relieved to see the older woman regain her strength and vitality. Speculation was rife that Rob would ask Kate to marry him, but Polly remained silent. Kate had said nothing, but Polly suspected that her friend would want to wait until her hospital appointment in January when she would hopefully hear that the cancer had gone. The only discordant note was the ongoing tension between Kate and Nick, and Polly had no idea how that issue was ever going to be resolved.
Polly cherished the time she spent with Rosie and Toni, reading to them, teaching them to bake cookies and muffins, playing with them and enjoying their unbounded joy about the puppy. Little Jasper had been with them for almost two weeks now, a glossy black bundle of fun and mischief who had won all their hearts. The girls were wonderful with him, attentive and caring and determined to do as much for him themselves as they could.
Chloe’s idea of a puppy crèche had proved invaluable. Dragan and Melinda had kept one puppy for themselves, a boy called Cocoa. Nick’s niece, Charlotte, newly engaged to James, had taken a black boy called Dylan. Jem’s puppy was called Bruno, Oliver and Chloe’s Rolo, and Gabriel and Lauren’s Monet, after Lauren’s favourite painter. It was sometimes chaotic but always enjoyable and while serving to help the puppies to learn and grow, the shared experience was tightening the bonds of friendship between the humans, too.
As the end of October approached, Polly couldn’t believe how much her life had changed—how much she had changed. It hadn’t all been easy, but Luca had been beside her every step of the way as she had faced the remaining demons from her past, just as she had tried to be supportive of him as he had lain the final threads of Elaine’s ghost to rest.
Sitting at her desk in her consulting room with a rare few moments alone, Polly stared out of the window as another shower fizzled out and the sky began to lighten. For the first time in four years she was coping with this time of year, able to face Halloween with her own personal horror less raw. Thanks to Luca. That amazing Sunday afternoon a month ago when they had first made love had been as memorable for the things they had talked about afterwards as for the extraordinary physical connection they had shared. Polly would never forget it…
‘Whatever happens between us in the days and weeks ahead, I want you to know that I will never lie to you,’ Luca had told her, cradling her in his arms. ‘And I ask you to promise me the same.’
Polly had nodded, taken aback by the serious tone of his voice. ‘OK.’
‘It’s important to me, Polly.’
‘I can see that.’ She had wondered why. ‘What happened to make you feel so strongly about this?’
He had paused a moment, his smile fading, dark eyes filling with changing emotions, including pain and anger. His voice had been controlled when he had spoken, as if trying to cover the turmoil within him. ‘Elaine wanted a baby so badly that she tricked me with the pregnancy and kept the truth from me about the risk to herself if she carried a baby to full term. She knew there was a high probability she would die, leaving me alone with an infant baby, but she didn’t tell me until near the end, until there was no choice left for me. She said she was afraid I would have tried to change her mind. Of course I would. I loved her. The idea of a baby—at that point unknown and unformed—to me was not worth the risk of losing Elaine. Part of me is still angry with her—both for taking the decision alone, and for leaving me and the girls—and yet had she not done it Rosie and Toni would not be here. But how can you ask any man to make that kind of choice?’
‘I don’t know. You can’t. You shouldn’t have to. It was awful, but not your fault, Luca.’ She had shifted position, hugging him, pressing kisses to the strong column of his throat. ‘Elaine was very wrong to deceive you. Some might say she was selfish, knowing she might well be committing her child to life without a mother, not to mention the impact on you. Others might say it was the ultimate sacrifice—she wanted a baby with you so badly that she felt it worth that risk.’
His fingers in her hair, he tilted her head so he could meet her gaze, the pain in his eyes taking her breath away. ‘I can’t go through anything like that again, Polly. I know there is something about the girls that makes you sad when you look at them. Is it because of this?’ he asked softly, the fingers of his free hand inexorably finding and tracing the line of her scar.
‘Yes.’
Emotion welling inside her, Polly sucked in a ragged breath, knowing the time had come for her to step off the precipice and tell Luca everything, hoping he would catch her.
And so it all came pouring out. How, after a couple of short-lived and unsatisfactory dating experiences, she met Charles Atkinson as she neared the end of medical school. Two years her senior and a trainee surgeon, he was the first person, besides Kate, to show her any kind of affection and, looking back, she realised now that that had helped to skew her judgement.
‘Charles was smart and good-looking, sophisticated, and a lot of the female staff vied for his attention. I couldn’t believe it when he said he was interested in me,’ she explained, a squeeze of pain tightening inside her as the old Plain Polly from Penhally taunt whispered through her mind. ‘He was kind, patient, apparently prepared not to rush me into anything, and I lapped up the attention.’
‘I’m not surprised after you had been starved of it for so long,’ Luca soothed.
‘Eventually we become lovers. He was the first person I’d been intimate with and while he didn’t set my whole world on fire, I enjoyed being with him, and I was so caught up in the whole thing, surprised anyone might care about me, that I didn’t realise how little I really knew about him.’ She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. ‘Charles was very ambitious and managed to land a much-coveted place on the team of a renowned surgeon on Harley Street. He had an almost obsessive zeal to succeed, and I thought he understood why my own career was important to me.’
Luca’s fingers stroked her hair. ‘But he didn’t?’
‘As it turned out, no, but I didn’t see it then,’ she confided with a frown.
‘What happened?’
‘To cut a long story short, we got married after I qualified. It was a very quiet, no-frills registry office wedding—neither of us had family, Kate couldn’t come up to London at that time, and so there were just a couple of Charles’s work friends as witnesses.’ A shiver rippled through her as the memories returned. ‘At first things were OK, then Charles began making comments about me giving up work and starting a family. We’d discussed it, and I’d told him I didn’t want children, probably ever.’ Her voice wavered and she hesitated, trying to get it back under control. ‘I had this thing in my head that I was never going to pass on Reg’s genes. I didn’t want to one day look at my child and see him looking back at me.’
Luca tightened his hold and dropped a kiss on her foreh
ead. ‘I can understand that.’ The sincerity in his voice reassured her.
‘I wasn’t unhappy that first year and I loved my work. The changes began gradually, insidiously. Little things at first. Almost unnoticeable. Charles started to criticise the way I looked, the way I kept the home, then he complained that I worked too much. His personality began to change, too, and he became impatient, tired and irritable. Nothing was right. He was drinking more and spending hours on the computer. He was secretive and angry when I questioned him, and he told me it was work and none of my business. I started to get scared, fearing Charles was showing some of the signs I’d known too well in Reg.
‘Things got worse as the months progressed,’ she continued, unconsciously snuggling into Luca, seeking comfort and security as she told him things she had never told anyone else. ‘Charles became more critical, more inconsistent in his behaviour and more and more determined I give up work. He wanted to be the successful one and he was determined his wife should be at home, doing his bidding, making him look good. And, he said, his job was more important than mine. I refused and we argued all the time as he became increasingly controlling.’
Polly felt Luca tense. ‘Did he hurt you?’ he demanded roughly.
‘Not physically. Not then…’
‘Dio! Polly, what did he do?’ Luca demanded, his concern for her giving her the strength to go on, to face the worst yet to come.
‘We rarely made love any more, and I was glad, because when we did he was selfish, taking only what he wanted. I didn’t know what to do. I’d taken my vows seriously, and the way he was wearing down my self-esteem was just like Reg, until I thought it must be my fault, that I wasn’t good enough. At the beginning I’d agreed to a joint bank account, but soon he was using that to control me, to make sure I had to ask for any money I wanted. I thought of opening my own account and to switch having my salary paid into that, but Charles found the forms before I could finalise things and went mad. It was around then that Reg died. I didn’t want anything from him, but I’d confided some of my problems to Kate, and when a firm of will hunters contacted her, Kate put them in touch with me. I was Reg’s only heir. The value of the house was all that was left, and Kate persuaded me to swallow my pride and to take Reg’s money, to put it in a safe place Charles knew nothing about in case I ever needed an escape route.’
Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 4 Page 63
