by SJ Molloy
Fuck!
File S for Sort. Sort yourself out, girl!
“You can’t sleep here tonight. Come on.” Lucca gestures towards the vomit over the pillow and bed. Before I get a chance to protest, he has scooped me up in his rippling, masculine arms and carries me out of the room.
“Where are we going?”
He continues to walk robustly with me cradled in his strong arms down the hall and then carries me down a spiral staircase to the second floor. With each footstep he takes, my head is thumping increasingly as I shudder in his arms.
“I can stay in Hazel’s room. She was going to sleep with me tonight anyway.”
“No, I’m not leaving you alone, and I’m not going to roam uninvited into guest’s bedrooms.” He sounds assertive and respectful.
Persistent.
My joints are aching, and I really do feel exhausted and lifeless so I don’t protest. We reach the bottom of the stairs, he turns left through another corridor then opens the door at the end of the hall. A plaque on the door reads “La Fiducia” in bold italics.
“What does the room name mean?” I ask.
He stares into my eyes. “The one to trust.”
Butterflies.
He swings the door open and carries me over to the bed, gently laying me down. He switches on a bedside lamp, then sits next to me on the bed. I am too tired to look around the room. I don’t even have the energy or ability to turn my head, although I notice the room smells of him; sexy, masculine and pleasantly intoxicating.
“What do you want to eat? I will have Maurizio and Annalisa prepare something for you.” He holds my left hand, rubbing my palm and stroking his thumb across the front of it. It feels lovely, and my brain has definitely been subjected to trauma tonight.
“Annalisa?” I ask with uncertainty, hoping it’s not his girlfriend or wife coming back to find me in their bed.
“She is the other chef.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I could eat anything. My stomach probably couldn’t handle it, and I don’t want to waste their time making something I can’t eat.”
“You need strength, so you have to try and eat something. It will make you feel better,” he replies. I watch as Lucca sits up and retrieves his mobile from his trouser pockets. He makes a call, speaking in Italian.
“What did you say?” I ask.
“I called Nonno, to tell him I’ve moved you, and that Maria needs to clean your room, and to tell Hazel not to worry.” He sits back on the bed, gazing down at me. “Are you comfortable?” he asks.
“Yes, thank you.” I brace myself for the confrontation that has been looming. “Why are you here? Did you know I was going to be here?”
“No, I didn’t know you were here. Of course not. I was amazed when I saw you then you dropped the glass. I thought I was dreaming. I’m here for business. I’m looking at a property for renovation in Pienza. I normally stay with my parents, but Casa Sulla Collina has an influx of tourists because of the Jazz festival in the town so they are renovating. It’s hectic.”
“Why did you call my colleague Mark?”
“I called him to make an appointment, but when he offered me an appointment with him I declined. I knew I would be here all week, and I wanted another one with you when you returned from your holiday, so I was prepared to wait.” He looks intensely at me, igniting a hot flame and electric flicker. There is no missing the desire in his sparkly blue eyes.
“Did Mark tell you I was here?”
“I said I hoped you were off somewhere nice, and he mentioned you were going to Italy. Of course, I asked where in Italy. He said somewhere in Tuscany, and I thought this was a huge coincidence as I knew I’d be here too, but it’s a big place, and I thought the chances of meeting you were slim. Until I saw you so distressed this evening. I had the wind taken from me when you collapsed.”
This seems quite plausible, and I think I believe him. He has been sincere and convincing so far.
“Now it’s my turn,” he says as he moves my hair away from the side of my face.
“Your turn for what?”
“To ask the questions.”
Oh, good Lord. I can’t divulge insecurities, paranoia and haunting ghosts from my past to someone I have only known two minutes.
“Why did you run away from me? And why are you so uptight and anxious. Have I offended or upset you?” Lucca wants his own answers, and since he has shown me no reason to disbelieve him, I will have to be relatively honest.
“No, you haven’t offended me. I just can’t talk about it. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings…I just have personal issues that I don’t handle particularly well, and many of these problems have challenged me over the past two days.”
He isn’t convinced. “Lexi, you asked if I had taken you, if you were going to die. What did you mean? Why would you say that? Fuck…”
He sounds very concerned, and he’s clenching his teeth and moving his jaw as he runs his hands through his shaggy bed hair. Even in his distress, he still looks sexy hot and smoldering.
Brain trauma.
“I don’t remember saying that. I must have been confused.” This is exhausting, and I need to change the subject. “Lucca, please, I’m tired. I don’t know what I was thinking”
“You’re not being honest, I can tell, but you’re tired and in pain, so I’m not going to press it just now.”
How does he know I am lying? And what the hell does he mean just now? We will not be having this conversation again. Period. End of. The thought of him knowing my innermost fears sends shivers down my spine, and my body begins to tremble.
“Fuck, you’re shaking. Come here.”
He walks around the other side of the bed, kicks his shoes off, then lies on his side next to me I’m stunned. He wraps a blanket over me, then drapes his arm over my body to hug me in a warm embrace, careful not to press the dressing on my shoulder. Mentally, I’m freaking out, but physically I surrender as weakness has absorbed my entire limbs. Twenty-four hours ago I would have screamed blue murder, but I’m exhausted and vulnerable.
I lie beside him, shaking for a few minutes until he soothes me gently. Lucca buries his head into my neck, stroking my hair and whispers in my ear, “Please, trust me. I’ve got you… I promise.”
I relax into his embrace, feeling secure in his protective snuggle. Closing my eyes, I feel him tuck an unruly curl behind my ear. Inhaling his sexy scent, I visualize myself drifting in water the colour of his eyes, floating in a tropical sea relaxed and warm.
Enchanting.
“A promise is a promise…” I softly whisper before losing myself to sleep.
Chapter 10
Flaring up the Fire
“No, I’m scared ...
Don’t hurt me. No, I can’t. Please don’t. Stop. Please stop. Don’t touch me….”
Suffocation.
My sleep is disturbed, I have the repetitive nightmare, where I am standing in the dark stone outbuilding, and my vest is torn off me under the threat of the knife blade. I start thrashing my legs around.
“Lexi, Lexi wake up. Its okay, it’s okay. Please don’t worry. You’re safe, you’re safe.” Lucca holds his arms tightly around my body, then presses his lips to the side of my face and kisses my temple. He strokes my hair with his other hand, hushing me.
“Where am I?” I ask breathlessly.
“You’re in the Villa. You had a nightmare, but you’re okay. It‘s Lucca, I’m taking care of you like I…I promised.” My chest rises and falls as I relax my muscles, unclenching my fists and steadying my legs. “You collapsed earlier tonight, do you remember?”
“Yes, I must have been dreaming of something different.”
“Do you want some water?” he softly asks.
“Yes, please. My mouth is so dry,” I barely whisper. He stretches to put the bedside lamp on. He gives me two painkillers for the pain and some water.
Oh no. I need to pee. Why now?
“What’s wrong, Lexi? You l
ook worried.”
Closing my eyes, I mumble, “I need to use the bathroom.”
He laughs. “Well, when you need to go, you need to go,” he jokes.
“You’ll need to wake Hazel up so that she can take me.” I sound demanding.
“No chance. I’ll take you.”
He is so sure of himself. “No, you bloody won’t. I’m not peeing in front of a stranger,” I spurt out.
“We’re not exactly strangers now. You’ve massaged me and met my family, so I’d say we’ve done formalities. I’ve witnessed you vomit, so peeing isn’t a hassle.” He grins smugly, looking pleased with himself.
“No way,” I retort.
He runs his hands through his thick, black, wavy hair. “Oh for fuck’s sake, come on.”
Before I know it, he has scooped me up off the bed and walked into the ensuite with me in his arms. He lifts the toilet lid up with his foot while he balances on one leg, then places me on top of it “Do you need me to help you?”
I’m about to hyperventilate here.
“No, I can manage. Thanks very much.”
He stands at the door and shuts it to give me some privacy, I pee as quickly as I can as my head feels like a boulder and I am struggling to keep it up. I pull my lace panties back up and fix my dress, I think I might actually be able to do this, so I stand up, only to come crashing back down on the marble tiles. My legs are trembling, unsteady, and cannot take my weight. The door flies open and Lucca whisks me up into his arms and puts me back down on the bed gently.
“Why on earth did you try to stand up? I would have lifted you.”
“Because I’m very independent and not used to having someone caring for me so intimately.”
I’ve silenced him. The room is eerily quiet, and I realize I’ve said too much.
Tumbleweed.
“What time is it?” I ask, trying to change the subject.
“It’s 2.30am. You want to talk about that bad dream you were having?”
I wish he would drop this. “No. I just want to go back to sleep.” I yawn as I say this so that he knows I’m genuinely tired.
“Okay, can I keep my arm wrapped around you?”
I think I feel suffocated, but the reality is I do actually want this. Damn it, I will deal with it tomorrow.
“Okay, yes. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
He kisses my temple and says quietly, “Voi siete la più bella donna intrigante che abbia mai conosciuto. You are the most beautiful, intriguing woman I have ever met.”
Sweet Jesus.
I go weak at the knees and my pulse quickens. He turns the lamp off and wraps his arm around me, gently stroking my arm with his fingers. It sends me back to sleep again.
****
When I wake in the morning, the sun is glorious with the warm rays shining brightly through the open doors. I can hear birds chirping, and dogs barking, which makes me think of Doris. I’m missing her terribly. I yawn and lift my arms to stretch them. They are lethargic and sore, but nowhere near as bad as last night, and my head is still thumping, though not as heavy. I manage to turn slightly and see Lucca propped up on the bed reading a newspaper. When he sees I’m awake, he smiles at me and drops his paper on the bedside drawers.
“Morning, beautiful.” He is in a good mood.
“Morning.” I groan. “What time is it?”
“Its 9.30am. You were sound asleep, so I thought I’d let you be.”
“I can’t believe I’ve slept this long. I must have been shattered.”
“Are you hungry?” Lucca asks.
“Yes, I’m famished.” No surprise after emptying my stomach contents all over the pillow.
Oh, mortification of the worst kind!
I watch Lucca making a phone call, speaking all in Italian.
“I need to call Hazel. She must be worried,” I say.
“She came in last night when you were sleeping. She knows you are okay. I think she had a bit too much to drink last night. From what I could make out it involved grappa, Vin Santo and cocktails, so she’ll probably be sleeping it off.”
Lucca looks amused, but I’m not. This is the girl I rely on in a crisis and she was sloshed. What chance do I have? But it is her vacation too, and she most likely got drunk because of the stress and too much sun yesterday.
I notice Lucca has changed his clothes. He has on a white, short sleeved, fitted t-shirt and beige cargo shorts. He looks model perfect. In the corner of the room I notice a coral chiffon sundress, underwear and sandals sitting on the chaise lounge; the dress I borrowed from Jess.
“How did my clothes get here?” I’m panicked at the thought of him going through my clothes.
“Hazel stumbled up with them last night. She mumbled something about it being a good job you unpacked or else you’d be getting the first thing thrown at you.”
I smile, and Lucca smiles back. The same one he showed me in the clinic the other day. It’s sexy as hell.
“It’s nice to see you smile and relax, Lexi. You have such a beautiful smile, dolcezza. I thought after you have something to eat and get ready, we can take you to the hospital and get you checked out.”
That wiped the smile off my face. “Who’s we?” I ask
“Well, I have a car so I’ll drive you. I don’t think Hazel will be in a fit state to take you. Besides, she doesn’t have insurance to drive any of our cars.”
“I thought you had to work,” I mutter.
“This is more important. How is your head?”
“Still painful, but I’m sure it will be fine. Nothing to worry about,” I reassure him.
There is a knock at the door, interrupting us. Sofia and Franco enter with a huge tray of scrumptious food and coffee. They lay the food down on the dresser, then walk over to the bed and give me a kiss on each cheek.
“You had us worried, beautiful girl. I’m thrilled you’re okay. I knew Lucca would take good care of you.” Franco pats Lucca on the shoulder as he directs his conversation to me.
Remembering my antics from last night, I feel the need to apologize. “I am so sorry for everything. It’s bad enough I ruined your dinner, scared your guests, and smashed your glass, but then I had to go and vomit on the lovely bed sheets.” Looking down at my hands, I frown my brow, my cheeks flaring up rosy-red like those vivid poppies outside.
“Nonsense, nonsense. It’s all irrelevant as long as you are okay. Don’t you be worrying yourself. We want you to go to the hospital to get checked over. I have told Maurizio to hold back on your first cooking lesson until you’re as good as new,” says Sofia. “Your friend Hazel was really worried about you, and I’m afraid I may have given her a strong grappa to calm her nerves. She was showing us, some sort of body moves.”
“…Body Combat, that’s the one,” Franco adds.
I place my hands over my face and shake my head, slightly mortified. I’m going to kill her when I muster up the strength. Lucca chuckles; he is finding the whole thing hilarious. I enjoy watching him laugh. He is even more handsome, illuminating something very attractive indeed when he smiles and laughs.
Butterflies.
“I just want to thank you all for everything you did last night. Thank you for helping me and being so kind. I truly am sorry.” I look at Lucca. His eyes are wide, and he looks awe-inspired. Sofia smiles and nods her head at the same time, carefully watching me stare at Lucca.
“Please eat. You must be famished,” Sofia says.
We will let you enjoy breakfast. Good luck at the hospital. Lucca will tell us how you are, and Lucca, you have a special girl there… I feel it,” Franco says with a cheeky twinkle in his eye as he walks away.
I try to perch myself up on the bed, but it’s a struggle. Lucca places an extra pillow behind my head and moves my hair to the side, then brings me over a tray with fresh fruit, orange juice, a smoke salmon frittata, hot bread with parmesan and Italian cured meats. He puts a piece of melon in his mouth then holds up the tea and coffee pot in each hand. I nod t
owards the coffee, smiling. It is heaven; smooth and strong. This is exactly what I need to perk me up.
“Please, eat. Don’t wait on me,” he says softly.
I begin eating, enjoying it tremendously. Breaking a piece of warm bread, I savor the little mouthful. It’s sweet and airy, and the frittata is light and flavorsome. He prepares his own plate and sits beside me on the bed. Having breakfast in bed is something I never anticipated doing with a man ever.
There is an awkward silence while he watches me. “Promise you’ll trust me when I say that I’m not going to hurt you. I’ll keep you safe. I want to get to know you.”
What the hell? Where has this come from?
“You were talking in your sleep last night, and I can’t get some of the things you said out of my head,” he mumbles.
Fuck! I don’t even remember what I was saying, although I do remember my dream. It’s the same one I always have.
“I know you’re not willing to talk about it, but please understand I’m here for you and I’m very worried, especially with some of the things you said in your sleep. It makes me feel sick to the core thinking about it.”
Why does he have to go and spoil everything? Damn right, I’m not ready to talk about anything, and I don’t think I’ll ever be. And why does he feel so sick? Suddenly, I‘ve lost my appetite. I push the tray off my lap, and force myself up, swinging my legs around to stand up.
Walking over to the dresser, I grab my clothes. My head is delicate, but I need to keep going. I storm into the bathroom and slam the door behind me. I throw the clothes down and lean against the wall, trying to inhale new air to fill my lungs. I lean my head against the wall for support, when all I really want to do it lay back down. I want to cry, but I’m numb and I can’t shed any more tears, so I close my eyes instead.
I hear a gentle knock on the door. “Can I come in? I want to apologize.” His tone is soft and warm.
“Yes,” I reply quietly.
