She spent the rest of the afternoon in the Vatican City, first stopping to survey the vast grandeur of St. Peter’s, before heading over to the Vatican Museum and all its treasures. In the Sistine Chapel, she dug through her bag until she found a compact mirror, so that she could spend more time surveying Michelangelo’s masterwork without getting a painful crick in her neck.
Before she boarded the metro, Calia dutifully put a call through to Larissa to let her know what station she was at, and that she was on her way home. Larissa had been most insistent that Calia call before she leave, so that Cosimo could calculate the travel time it would take for her to get back. That way, he would be waiting for her upon her return.
Except that it was Gio who was waiting at the station when Calia arrived. He hadn’t yet seen her when she first spotted him, as he lounged against his car, his eyes hidden by sunglasses. Damn, but he’s some hot tamale.
Somehow, she had managed to forget how sexy he looked in a suit, its impeccable cut emphasizing the dynamic magnetism of the muscled physique beneath. With a heavy dose of chagrin, she acknowledged that she had been fooling herself, when she had pretended that she hadn’t wasted a second thought on Gio all day. In reality, she admitted reluctantly, memories of him had invaded her mind and assailed her senses, intruding with frustrating regularity upon her morning errands and her afternoon sightseeing.
As she watched him shift his posture, Calia’s breath caught at the recollection of how much she had enjoyed that body the night before.
Just then, he glanced over at her and straightened. The sunglasses made it impossible to read his expression, but it didn’t soften into a smile as he watched her approach.
“Why did you not wait for me to get back? I could have taken you into the city,” was his greeting, when they were close enough to converse. His tone was neutral—no note of accusation, but nonetheless, Calia felt her irritation rising.
“I saw no reason to cut your meeting short. I’m perfectly capable of finding my way around, and it seemed silly to waste most of a day waiting around, when I could have been sightseeing. This way, I’m making the most of my stay in Rome, and you needn’t feel obliged to squire me about town.”
“What if I’ve decided I want to squire you about town?”
It wasn’t the response Calia had expected. She gave him a startled look. “Why would you?”
He opened her door for her. “You interest me.” He walked around to the driver’s side of the car, leaving Calia to digest that particular bit of information.
She couldn’t suppress the fugitive thrill of pleasure at the discovery that he wanted to spend time with her. It hardly even bothered her that they were too incompatible for it to lead anywhere—except, perhaps, to a repetition of the previous night. ****
He slid into the seat beside her. Too close for comfort, Calia realised, as his proximity elicited an unwelcome jolt of sexual awareness. Her breasts hardened with the memory of how he had caressed them last night, and she was swamped by a surge of hot wetness between her thighs. She glanced down at her body in alarm, only to breathe a sigh of relief as she noted that only the tiniest nubs of her nipples were visible through the layers of bra and loose-fitting tank top.
But the realization that just sitting beside him pushed Calia to the verge of climax did not rest well with her. What had happened to the wonderful notion that she would be able to get him out of her system by sleeping with him? Self-deception, obviously—because now, instead of being abolished, her desire for him thronged in her blood. It thickened the air around her, making it difficult to breathe normally, because with every inhalation, she was reminded of the maleness of Gio—the spicy hot, masculine smell that was his alone, and which had assailed her senses so vividly last night.
“It feels a little stuffy in here—I’m just going to open the window to let some air in,” she said, making good on her intention as he started the car.
Her face towards the open window, she drew in a deep breath, then released it with an equal measure of slow deliberation. And again. Good. Or, at least, better than before.
“I can turn on the air conditioning if you like. It will probably be cooler than the air outside.”
Which was true enough. It was a hot, muggy day, and the outside air was not particularly refreshing. But still— “Oh that’s all right. Once we start moving, I’m sure it will be quite delicious, with the fresh air circulating through the car.”
He gave her a wry look as he shifted into first gear. “The air in Rome has been called many things, but ‘fresh’ is not usually one of them.”
“Air conditioning sometimes gives me a headache, especially if I’ve been out in the heat all day. I think it’s the abrupt change from hot to cold.” Which could be true. Calia knew several people who had that problem, so why not her? After all, just because it had never happened before, didn’t mean it wasn’t worth taking precautions against—or so she assured herself, as they turned out of the metro station and onto the main road.
“So, what did you do today?”
His question cut into her thoughts, and she leapt at the distraction, launching into a description of her day’s activities. When she had finished, he frowned.
“I regret that you did not wait for me to accompany you to the museum.”
“Why?”
“Your reactions interest me. You do not seem to hold back.”
“And now I won’t feel at all self-conscious if we do end up going somewhere together.” But nonetheless, she grinned, the heated flush of pleasure rising to her face at his compliment.
“Once I have finished with my meetings tomorrow, I will come by the villa to pick you up. We will go for lunch at a place I know, near the Spanish steps. I will also take you to the Trevi Fountain, the Forum and the Colosseum.”
“Why don’t I just come with you into town in the morning? I’ll wander around a bit, then meet you back at your office at whatever time you like—that way, you won’t have to go all the way back to the villa to get me. And I’ll be able to make the most of my stay in Rome.”
A brief pause, in which Calia wondered if he was about to object. Then, he nodded. “Excellent. That will work out perfectly. My office is not far from some of the best shops in the city. And one or two spas in the district also come highly recommended. You may get the names of them from my secretary in the morning.”
“You think I was planning on spending my morning at the spa?”
He glanced at her. “That is not what you would enjoy?”
A smile tugged at her mouth. “Spas have their appeal, I’ll admit, but frankly, they weren’t at the top of my list of things to do during my short stay in Rome. I’d far rather be seeing the city than lounging around. I’ll spend the morning at a museum or something—and believe me, you won’t be missing anything. Most of my friends refuse to go to museums or galleries with me because they think I spend way too much time at each exhibit. You’d probably be bored to tears.”
He acknowledged her comments with a shrug. “Afterwards, you will meet me at my office at one o’clock. We will go for lunch from there,” he concluded, making the final turn up the long drive to the villa.
After parking, they headed inside. Gio closed the front door behind him, before glancing at her. “I expect you will want to freshen up and change for dinner,” he said, before taking his leave.
Calia let out a slow breath as she watched his retreating back, taking in the predatory grace of his movements. Then, she headed to her room, frowning. They had managed to avoid talking about what had happened the night before, she noticed, with some relief. Given that she had done her best to avoid even thinking about it today, Calia was none too eager to bring up the subject.
But, despite her best efforts, her mind had continued to slip back to memories of their explosive coupling. It did not please her in the least that her best attempts to put their encounter behind her had been spectacularly unsuccessful. Her self-directed annoyance was further abetted
by the sexual frustration of watching him walk away from her when her body was yearning for him to do just the opposite.
She had just wanted to have a bit of fun with him—but even after a day alone, her desire was anything but muted. Calia recoiled from the kind of dependence that implied.
On the other hand, she mused as she went through the motions of showering and changing for dinner, the chances of sidelining the urgency of her desire for Gio were considerably reduced when she kept having to spend time with the man.
With a sigh, Calia slipped into a simple, dark green sundress that she had been told brought out turquoise highlights in her eyes. Then, she loosened the hair she had tucked into a bun before her shower.
She didn’t even know whether, in the clear light of the morning after, he was still interested in further intimacies with her. But as she brushed out her hair, Calia had a sudden, flash recollection of how he had watched her last night, his eyes hot with desire. She knew with something close to certainty that even if he had decided never to lay another finger on her again, she would be able to change his mind.
A glance in the mirror revealed the hectic flush in her cheeks. The memory of how he had pleasured her last night, his tongue tracing a heated, meandering trail over the expanse of her bared flesh, shortened her breath, as she once more experienced the shattering urgency of his desire.
The amber in her eyes was all but obscured by the darkness of her pupils, and even as she dazedly watched her reflection, she could see her nipples tightening into hard buds. A slow, voluptuous throbbing had begun between her legs.
For a moment she stood, swaying slightly, so caught by the potency of her recollections that she was barely aware of her surroundings.
Then, she shook herself, blinking hard to banish the phantom touch of his skin against her own. She curled her hands into fists as she turned away from the mirror, scowling. She would not allow him to control her like this. No-one had that right—least of all a man like Gio, with his blanket mistrust of all women and his autocratic ways.
She made herself walk calmly to the door of her room. She couldn’t be sure what would happen tonight. The languid, questing pulse between her legs begged for a resolution, but Calia intended to insure that it would be on her own terms.
* * *
In the dining room, she contemplated the several paintings of bright, sunlit landscapes that had been tastefully distributed throughout the room. She was examining one, which featured golden grasses set against an alpine backdrop, when she suddenly became aware of his presence, without quite being able to identify how she knew he had entered the room.
She turned to find him watching her, his eyes dark with molten heat. But his expression remained composed, and as she swallowed, trying to think of something to say, he smiled politely.
“Do you like Segantini?”
She gave him a blank look. “Who?”
He indicated the painting she had been looking at. “There are several of his works in this room. Part of my father’s collection.”
“There’s a tranquility to them. I notice you also have a Modigliani landscape over on that wall. Unusual.”
He nodded. “I have somewhat different tastes to my father. Though I like the older style of landscapes, I prefer works that challenge me to look deeper.”
“Admirable. Pity the same couldn’t be said of your taste in women.”
He grinned suddenly. “Is that a challenge, Calia? I should think that after last night, you would have no doubt about my readiness to delve into your darkest depths. But I stand ready to prove myself again, should the need arise.”
She tilted her head, unable to prevent a smile from playing at her lips. “If you’re standing ready now, then surely the need has already been aroused.”
He returned her smile, his expression inquiring. “Is that an invitation or an acknowledgment?”
“What do you want it to be?”
“Do not think I haven’t noticed that you have carefully avoided discussing this attraction that lies between us. I have respected it in order to give you time to sort out your feelings.” As he spoke, his gaze held hers. He approached her with the grace of a panther stalking its prey. He continued, “Last night I made my feelings clear. I want you.”
She swallowed, mesmerized by the hot intensity of his silver eyes. But she would not capitulate so easily. “And if I refuse?”
His lips lifted into a predatory smile that dried her throat, even as it excited her with its implacability. “Then I will help you to change your mind.”
“So what happened to respecting my feelings?”
“I have given you time to come to terms with the reality of our situation. Still, if you cannot do so on your own, then I will help you along.”
“And what reality is that?” But the question was pure bravado. She knew.
“That it would be a crime to walk away from the chemistry that sizzles between us. Together, we burn like the brightest of flames, Calia.” He had moved close to her, so that his breath rasped against her ear, exquisitely tantalizing. Calia imagined she could feel the heat of his skin, so close to hers. “All day, I have tasted you. I have felt the molten fire of you, pressed against my body. Again and again, I have had to forcibly expel thoughts of you from my mind.”
His admission triggered a heady exhilaration in Calia, even as he continued, “I have little doubt that you will have felt the same way—not after you exploded in my arms last night. So, we will finish what is between us. And you have no more choice about it than do I.”
“There’s always a choice,” she murmured, but her body swayed towards him. As in a trance, she turned her head, her lips straining towards his, as the rising sensuality of her body’s needs submerged coherent thought.
She hardly even saw—let alone understood—the brief flare of triumph in his eyes as he leaned back and she responded by moving to bridge the gap between them.
“Then you have made yours,” he murmured, before trapping her lips in a kiss that was as hard and demanding as Calia could have wanted—had she been even remotely capable of thinking clearly. Instead, she pressed herself hard against him, revelling in the feel of his contoured muscles.
It was only the sound of a door opening loudly somewhere to her left that revived Calia’s awareness of anything outside of the urgent sexual energy throbbing between them. A glance in the direction of the noise revealed an elaborately nonchalant Larissa carrying a steaming dish to the dining table.
Calia stepped away from Gio, startled by the intrusion and mortified at the ease with which her body had capitulated to his intentions, despite her rational desire for resistance.
Only once they had clearly stepped apart did Larissa glance up with an exaggerated look of surprise, as if she had only just noticed the two of them.
Despite her preoccupation, Calia couldn’t suppress a twinge of amusement at the transparency of the other woman’s well-intentioned ruse.
“Ah, here you both are. Please, eat while it is still warm.” Larissa gestured at the two place settings that had been laid out at the vast dining table, before bustling back into the kitchen.
“I must confess to not having any great appetite—for food, at least,” Gio murmured, just loudly enough for Calia to hear.
She made herself smile at him. “I’m actually quite ravenous myself,” she lied, glad of the reprieve, for though her body ached with thwarted desire, Calia knew full well that she needed to regroup. “And if Larissa’s dinners are anywhere as good as her snacks, then I couldn’t possibly say no. After all,” she added, her tone turning rueful, “I imagine I’ll be needing my strength for tonight.”
There no longer seemed any point in pretending to herself and to Gio that she would be able to resist him tonight. Any continued denials would only make her seem weak-willed, since they both knew that as soon as he touched her, any resolutions would be blown away.
But, she also wanted to ensure that she didn’t yield more than she coul
d afford to—because she knew too well that if she didn’t have a very clear idea of her own boundaries, then she would never be able to maintain them with someone like Gio. Unless she was very careful, her physical hunger for him could all too easily become a dangerous addiction.
For all that she had insisted upon the meal, as they ate, Calia’s entire awareness was oriented on Gio. Her body ached to continue what they had begun, even as she felt a twinge of annoyance at Gio’s air of unhurried calm. And so, though she had a vague sense of delicious food, as they finished off their meal with coffees, Calia was startled to realize that she could not have named a single course she had just eaten.
He took a final sip from his cup and sat back from the table, watching her with a hooded, languorous gaze whose voluptuous power held her in its thrall. She couldn’t have looked away, even if she had wanted to, and he knew it. A slow smile curled his lips.
“And now?”
The smugness of his tone pricked at her. “Why are you even bothering to ask me? After all, you don’t seem interested in giving me much choice in the matter.”
He sat forward, careful not to break her gaze. “You would deny us both, Calia? For what? We have both agreed nothing will come of this, so why do you continue to resist? Is it just stubbornness? Or?”
She didn’t answer. He waited, still watching her. Finally, she looked away. She released a slow breath.
“I want to know why you are fighting this, Calia.”
Her mouth twisted wryly. What could she tell him? That she was worried she’d grow dependent on him? How pathetic did that sound?
She raised her eyes and met his gaze, trying to keep her expression calm. “I just don’t want you to make any assumptions about me, that’s all. Whatever we end up doing, don’t start thinking I’m one of ‘your women.’ Because I’m not.”
“You are afraid I will begin taking you for granted.”
Her smile was small and hard. “’Taking me for granted’ implies a relationship between us. And I don’t intend for it to reach that stage.”
Her Roman Holiday Page 8
