‘As things turn out, reparation is long overdue. I don’t blame my mother for the things she did. She was who she was, and I have to accept my own portion of responsibility for failing to question when I was old enough to do so.’ He held his hand up as though to forestall an argument, although the last thing Caroline was about to do was argue with him. First and foremost, she wanted to get her thoughts in order. She looked at him with a slightly glazed expression.
‘Right,’ she said slowly, blinking and nodding her head thoughtfully. She noticed that, even having been at the bottle, he was still in control of all his faculties, still able to rationalise his thoughts in a way that many sober people couldn’t. He might be ruthless with others who didn’t meet his high standards, but he was also ruthless with himself, and that was an indication of his tremendous honesty and fairness. Throw killer looks into the mix, and was it any wonder that her silly, inexperienced head had been well and truly turned? Surely that natural reaction could not be confused with love.
‘The least I can do—’ he murmured in such a low voice that she had to strain to hear him ‘—and I have told Alberto this—is to get people in to sort out the company. Old friends and stalwarts are all well and good, but it appears that they have allowed time to do its worst. Whatever it takes, it will be restored to its former glory and an injection of new blood will ensure that it remains there. And there will be no transfer of title. My father will continue to own his company, along with his villa, which I intend to similarly restore.’
Caroline smiled without reservation. ‘I’m so glad to hear that, Giancarlo.’
‘You mean, you aren’t going say “I told you so”, even though you did?’
‘I would never say anything like that.’
‘Do you know, I’m inclined to believe you.’
‘I’m really glad I came downstairs,’ she confessed honestly. ‘It took me ages to fall asleep and then I woke up and wanted to know that everything was all right, but I wasn’t sure what to do.’
‘Would you believe me if I told you that I’m glad you came downstairs too?’
Caroline found that she was holding her breath. He was staring at her with brooding intensity and she couldn’t drag her fascinated eyes away from his face. Without realising it, she was leaning forwards, every nerve in her body straining towards him, like a flower reaching towards a source of heat and light.
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ Giancarlo said wryly. ‘I’m not the sort of man who thinks there’s anything to be gained by soul searching but you appear to have a talent for listening.’
‘And, also, drink lowers inhibitions,’ Caroline felt compelled to add, although she was flushed with pleasure.
‘This is true.’
‘So what happens next?’ Caroline asked breathlessly. She envisaged him heading off to sort out companies and a bottomless void seemed to open up at her feet. ‘I mean, are you going to be leaving soon?’ she heard herself ask.
‘For once, work is going to be put on hold.’ Giancarlo looked at her lazily. ‘I have a house on the coast.’
‘So you said.’
‘A change of scenery might well work wonders with Alberto and it would give us time to truly put an uncomfortable past behind us.’
‘And would I stay here to look after the villa?’
‘Would that be what you wanted?’
‘No! I … I need to be with Alberto. It’s part of my job, you know, to make sure that he’s okay.’ Silence descended. Into it, memories of that passing passion on the boat dropped until her head was filled with images of them together. Her pupils dilated and she couldn’t say a word. She was dimly aware that she was shamelessly staring at him, way beyond the point of politeness.
She was having an out-of-body experience. At least, that was what it seemed like and so it felt perfectly natural to reach out, just extend her hand a little and trace the outline of his face.
‘Don’t touch, Caroline.’ He continued to look at her with driving intensity. ‘Unless you’re prepared for the consequences. Are you?’
CHAPTER SEVEN
CAROLINE propped herself up on one elbow and stared at Giancarlo. He was dozing. Due to the throes of love-making, the sheets had become a wildly crumpled silken mass that was draped half-on, half-off the bed, and in the silvery moonlight, his long, muscular limbs in repose were like the silhouettes of a perfectly carved fallen statue. She itched to touch them. Indeed, she could feel the tell-tale throb between her legs and the steady build-up of dampness that longed for the touch of his mouth, his hands, his exploring fingers.
He had asked her, nearly a fortnight ago, whether she was prepared for the consequences. Yes! Caroline hadn’t thought twice. Of course, that first time—and, heck, it seemed like a million years ago—they hadn’t made love. Not properly. He was scrupulous when it came to contraception. No, they had touched each other and she had never known that touching could be so mind-blowing. He had licked every inch of her body, had teased her with his tongue, invaded every private inch of her until she had wanted to pass out.
For Caroline, there had been no turning back.
The few days originally planned by Giancarlo for his visit had extended into two weeks and counting, for he had taken it upon himself to personally oversee the ground changes that needed to be made to Alberto’s company. With the authority of command, he had snapped his fingers and in had marched an army of his loyal workforce, who had been released into the company like ants, to work their magic. They stayed at one of the top hotels in the nearby town while Giancarlo remained at the villa, taking his time to try and rebuild a relationship that had been obliterated over time. He would vanish for much of the day, returning early evening, where a routine of sorts had settled into place.
Alberto would always be found in his usual favourite chair in the sitting-room, where Giancarlo would join him for a drink, while upstairs Caroline would ready herself with pounding heart for that first glimpse of Giancarlo of the day.
Alberto didn’t suspect a thing. It was in Caroline’s nature to be open and honest, and she was guiltily aware that what she was enjoying was anything but a straightforward relationship. The fact that she and Giancarlo had met under very strange circumstances and that, were it not for those strange circumstances, their paths would never have been destined to cross, was an uneasy truth always playing at the back of her mind. She preferred not to dwell on that, however. What was the point? From that very moment when she had closed her eyes and offered her lips to him, there had been no going back.
So late at night, with Alberto safely asleep, she would creep into Giancarlo’s bedroom, or he would come to her, and they would talk softly, make love and then make love all over again like randy teenagers who couldn’t get enough of one another.
‘You’re staring at me.’ Giancarlo had always found it irritating when women stared at him, as though he was some kind of poster-boy pin-up, the equivalent of the brainless blonde bimbo. He had found, though, that he could quite happily bask in Caroline’s openly appreciative gaze. When they were with Alberto and he felt her eyes slide surreptitiously over him, it was a positive turn-on. On more than one occasion he had had to fight the desire to drag her from the room and make love to her wherever happened to be convenient, even if it was a broom cupboard under the stairs. Not that such a place existed in the villa.
‘Was I?’
‘I like it. Shall I give you a bit more to stare at?’ Lazily, he shrugged off the sheet so that his nakedness was fully exposed and Caroline sighed softly and shuddered.
With a groan of rampant appreciation, Giancarlo reached out for her and felt her willingly fall into his arms. He opened his eyes, pulled her on top of him and ground her against him so that she could feel the rock-hard urgency of his erection. As she propped herself up on his chest, her long hair tumbled in a curtain around her heart-shaped face. Roving eyes took in the full pout of her mouth, the sultry passion in her eyes, the soft swing of her generous b
reasts hanging down, big nipples almost touching his chest.
What was it about this woman’s body that drove him to distraction?
They had made love only an hour before and he was ready to go again; incredible. He pulled her down to him so that he could kiss her, and now she no longer needed any prompting to move her body in just the right way so that he felt himself holding on by a slither.
‘You’re a witch,’ he growled, tumbling her under him in one easy move, and Caroline smiled with satisfaction, like the cat that not only had got the cream but had managed to work out where there was an unlimited supply.
He pushed her hair back so that he could sweep kisses along her neck while she squirmed under him.
The thrill of anticipation was running through her like a shot of adrenaline. She couldn’t seem to get enough of his mouth on her, and as he closed his lips around one nipple she moaned softly and fell back, arms outstretched, to receive the ministrations of his tongue playing against the erect bud of her nipple. She arched back and curled her fingers in his hair as he sucked and suckled, teasing and nipping until the dampness between her legs became pleasurably painful.
She wrapped her legs around him and as he began moving against her she gave a little cry of satisfaction.
They had arrived at his house on the coast only two days previously, and although it wasn’t nearly as big as the villa it was still big enough to ensure perfect privacy when it came to being noisy. Alberto and Tessa were in one wing of the house, she and Giancarlo in the other. It was an arrangement that Caroline had been quick to explain, pointing out in too much detail that it was far more convenient for Tessa to be readily at hand, and the layout of the villa predicated those sleeping arrangements. She had been surprised when Alberto had failed to put up the expected argument, simply shrugging his shoulders and waving her lengthy explanation away.
‘Not so fast, my sexy little witch.’ Giancarlo paused in his ministrations to stare down at her bare breasts, which never failed to rouse a level of pure primal lust he had hitherto not experienced with any other woman. The circular discs of her nipples were large and dark and he could see the paleness of her skin where the sun hadn’t reached. It was incredibly sexy. He leant down and licked the underside of her breasts, enjoying the feel of their weight against his face, then he traced a path down her flat stomach to circle her belly button with his tongue. She was salty with perspiration, as he was, even though it was a cool night and the background whirr of the fan was efficiently circulating the air.
Caroline breathed in sharply, anticipating and thrilling to what was to come, then releasing her breath in one long moan as his tongue flicked along the pulsating sensitised tip of her clitoris, endlessly repeating the motion until she wanted to scream.
In a mindless daze, she looked down at the dark head buried between her thighs and the eroticism of the image was so powerful that she shuddered.
She could barely endure the agony of waiting as, finally, he slipped on protection and entered her in a forceful thrust that sent waves of blissful sensation crashing through her. His hands were under her buttocks as he continued to drive into her, his motions deep and rhythmic. The wave of sensation peaked, and she stiffened and whimpered, her eyes fluttering shut as she was carried away to eventually sag, pleasurably sated, on the bed next to him.
Similarly spent, Giancarlo rolled off her and lay flat, one arm splayed wide, the other clasped around her.
Not for the first time, Caroline was tempted to ask him where they were going, what lay around the corner for the two of them. Surely something that was as good as this wasn’t destined to end?
And just as quickly she bit back the temptation. She had long given up on the convenient delusion that what she felt for Giancarlo was nothing more than a spot of healthy lust. Yes, it was lust, but it was lust that was wrapped up in love—and instinctively she knew that love, insofar as it applied to Giancarlo, was a dangerous emotion, best not mentioned.
All she could do was hope that day by day she was becoming an indispensable part of his life.
Certainly, they enjoyed each other’s company. He made her laugh and he had told her countless times that she was unique. Unique and beautiful. Surely that meant something?
She steered clear of perilous thoughts to say drowsily, ‘I’ve got to get back to my room. It’s late and I’m really, really tired …’
‘Too tired for a bath?’
Caroline giggled and shifted in little movements so that she was curled against him. ‘Your baths are not good for a girl who needs to get to sleep.’
‘Now, what would make you say that?’ But he grinned at her as she delicately hid a yawn.
‘Not many women fall asleep on me,’ he said sternly and she smiled up at him.
‘Is that because you tell them that they’re not allowed to?’
‘It’s because they never get the chance. I’ve never been a great fan of post-coital situations.’
‘Why is that?’ Thin ice stretched out in front of her because she knew that she could easily edge towards a conversation that might be off-limits with him. ‘Is that because too much conversation equals too much involvement?’
‘What’s brought this on?’
Caroline shrugged and flopped back against the pillows. ‘I just want to know if I’m another in a long line of women you sleep with but aren’t really involved with.’
‘I’m not about to get embroiled in a debate on this. Naturally, I’ve conversed with the women I’ve dated. Over dinner. After dinner. On social occasions. But my time after we’ve made love has been for me. I’ve never encouraged lazing around between the sheets chatting about nothing in particular.’
‘Why not? And don’t tell me that I ask too many questions. I’m just curious, that’s all.’
‘Remember what they say about curiosity and cats.’
‘Oh, forget it!’ Caroline suddenly exploded. ‘It was just a simple question. You get so defensive if someone asks you something you don’t want to hear.’
Giancarlo discovered that his gut instinct wasn’t to ditch the conversation, even though he didn’t like where it was going. What did she expect him to say?
‘Maybe I’ve never found the woman I wanted to have chats with in bed …’ he murmured softly, drawing her back to him and feeling her relent in his arms. ‘Let’s not argue,’ he said persuasively. ‘This riviera is waiting to be explored.’
‘Are you sure you can take all that time off work?’
‘Surprisingly, I’m beginning to realise the considerable benefits of the World Wide Web. My father may be a dinosaur when it comes to anything technological, but it’s working wonders for me. Almost as good as being at an office but with the added advantage of having a sexy woman I can turn to whenever I want.’ He smoothed his big hands along her waist then up to gently caress the softness of one of her breasts.
‘And you’re teaching him.’ Caroline was glad to put that moment of discomfort behind them. Questions might be jostling for room in her head but she didn’t want to argue. She didn’t want to explore the outcome of any arguments. ‘He’s really enjoying those lessons,’ she confided, running her hand along his shoulder and liking the hard feel of muscle and sinew. ‘I think he finds the whole experience of having a son rather wonderful. In fact, I know you feel maybe a bit guilty that you lived with a past that wasn’t quite what you thought it was, but he feels guilty too.’
‘He’s told you that?’
‘He called himself a proud old fool the other day when we were out in the garden, which is his way of regretting that he never got in touch with you over the years.’ She glanced behind Giancarlo to where the clock on the ornate bedside table was informing her that it was nearly two in the morning. Her eyelids felt heavy. Should she just grab fifteen minutes of sleep before she trudged back to her bedroom? The warmth of Giancarlo’s body next to her dulled her senses but she began edging her way out of the bed.
‘Stay,’ he urged, pulling h
er back to him.
‘Don’t be silly.’ Caroline yawned.
‘Alberto doesn’t get up until at least eight in the morning and by the time he gets his act together it’s more like nine-thirty before he makes an appearance in the breakfast room. You can be up at seven and back in your room by five past.’ He grinned wolfishly at her. ‘And isn’t the thought of early-morning sex tempting.?’ The suggestion had come from nowhere. If he didn’t encourage after-sex chat, he’d never encouraged any woman to stay the night. In fact, no one ever had.
He was playing truant from his real life. At least, that was what it felt like, and why shouldn’t he enjoy the time out, at least for a little while? Having been driven all his adult life, having poured all his energies into the business of making money, which had been an ambition silently foisted onto him by his mother, why the hell shouldn’t he now take time out under these extraordinary circumstances?
Neither he nor his father had been inclined to indulge in lengthy, analytical conversations about the past. In time and at leisure, they could begin to fill in the gaps, and Giancarlo was looking forward to that. For the moment, Alberto had explained what needed to be explained, and his scattered reminiscences had built a picture of sorts for Giancarlo, a more balanced picture than the one he had been given as a child growing up, but the blame game hadn’t been played. After an initial surge of anger at his mother and at himself, Giancarlo was now more accepting of the truth that the past couldn’t be changed and so why beat himself up over the unchangeable?
However, he could afford to withdraw from the race for a few weeks, and he wanted to. If Alberto had lost his only child for all those years, then Giancarlo had likewise been deprived of his father and it was a space he was keen to fill. Slowly, gradually, with them both treading the same path of discovery and heading in the same direction.
The Truth Behind his Touch Page 11
