Cinderella In The Sicilian's World (HQR Presents)

by Sharon Kendrick

  But now the empty coffee cups and scatter of amaretti crumbs on the table indicated that the meal was well and truly over and Lina was aware that she really ought to make a move.

  ‘I’d better go,’ she said again.

  ‘You sound as if you don’t want to go anywhere,’ he observed, lifting his fingers in a careless gesture, which instantly had a waiter scurrying towards them with the bill. ‘Is there something special you need to be back for?’

  Lina couldn’t help the feeling of dread which fluttered inside her stomach as she reached beneath the table to retrieve her trainers and wondered what he’d say if he knew what she was really going home to. Not the pared-down and slightly amusing version of village life with which she’d regaled him, but her mother’s sour face and incessant demands. Cheap denim and cotton stacked into high piles, waiting for her to turn them into skirts and shirts and knock-off designer dresses. The endless hours alone with her whirring sewing machine and then those long and desperately lonely evenings which followed—the silence broken only by the constant chiming of the church bells. Suddenly it all seemed so empty—and more than a little bit sad. Was that what made her look into his eyes with a sudden rush of resolve, which was accompanied by an unfamiliar sense of defiance?

  ‘Not really, no,’ she said. ‘I’ll have to get back in time for dinner, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ There was the merest flicker of a pause as he deposited a wad of notes on top of the bill and his blue eyes were shuttered when he glanced up at her again. He slid his wallet back into his jacket pocket. ‘Well, then. What would you have been doing this afternoon if you hadn’t bumped into me?’

  Lina thought about it. She would have driven to her favourite hidden cove, hoping that nobody else would be there. And, after swimming until she was cool and pleasantly tired, she would be attempting to brush the stubborn sand from her body and performing a few clumsy acrobatics as she tried to modestly remove her swimsuit from behind a towel. ‘I was planning on going swimming,’ she said.

  He looked across at the rows of loungers which were laid in neat lines. ‘Swimming?’ he repeated. ‘You mean here?’

  Lina followed his gaze, noting that the occupants of the loungers wore bikinis which were little more than a series of flimsy triangles, which someone as curvy as her would never be able to get away with. She thought about the swimsuit she’d stuffed at the bottom of her rucksack. Imagine the reaction if she took to this exclusive beach wearing that! She’d probably be frogmarched straight off for committing a crime against fashion!

  ‘No, not here,’ she said quickly. ‘This beach is private. Only guests of the hotel are allowed to use it.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ he said, with the cool confidence of a man for whom no door was ever closed. ‘Nobody’s going to stop you from swimming.’

  Not while you’re with me, went the unspoken subtext but Lina still shook her head. ‘No, honestly,’ she said quickly, unable to keep the sudden panic from her voice. ‘Forget I ever said it. I don’t... I don’t really want to swim here, if it’s all the same with you.’

  He gave her a considered look. ‘Well, what about a swim at my villa, if you don’t want an audience?’

  Lina’s throat thickened with an emotion she didn’t recognise. Just as she didn’t recognise the sudden hopeful squeak of her voice. ‘You mean you’re staying here? In Sicily?’

  He shrugged. ‘Only tonight. My plane will take me back to San Francisco tomorrow.’

  ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

  ‘It’s no trouble. My car is outside.’

  ‘So is my scooter.’

  ‘So why don’t I get my chauffeur to ride your bike for you, and I can drive you to my villa myself? You can have a swim and leave when you like.’

  ‘Won’t your chauffeur mind driving my scooter?’

  ‘He isn’t paid to mind,’ he drawled arrogantly. ‘He’s paid very handsomely to do exactly what I tell him to do.’

  Salvatore watched as she worried her bottom lip again, a gesture which left her mouth looking so unbelievably kissable that he wondered if it was done for precisely that effect. He was used to instant acquiescence—especially from women—but Lina Vitale kept him waiting for an answer and the novelty of that was more than a little exciting.

  ‘Okay,’ she said eventually, pushing a thick handful of hair back from her face. ‘Why not?’

  Why not? Salvatore frowned. She obviously didn’t realise that he wasn’t usually given to handing out invitations to waifs and strays and that a little gratitude might have been welcome. He pushed back his chair. He couldn’t work her out. Not only that—but he still hadn’t quite worked out his own motives for inviting her. Was he intending to seduce her? To peel off those over-long denim shorts and the almost puritanical cotton shirt to see what voluptuous delights lay beneath?

  His mouth hardened. No. He had never been into one-night stands and even if he were he certainly wouldn’t choose a woman from a tiny mountain village who would probably read too much into it. He was being kind, that was all. Hadn’t she praised him for such kindness earlier?

  So stop being such a cynical bastard and make the poor woman’s day.

  ‘Come on, then. Let’s go,’ he said abruptly, rising to his feet and causing a woman on a nearby table to completely miss her mouth as she prepared to take a drink of wine.

  As Lina had suspected, Salvatore’s chauffeur looked distinctly unimpressed at being presented with her helmet and told to drive her scooter. But he didn’t protest. His bulky body dwarfed the small fifty cc machine, but by then Salvatore was opening the passenger door of the limousine and Lina was climbing inside. And, oh, it was gorgeous. It smelt of leather and wealth, and the powerful engine made less noise than her hairdryer as Salvatore drove along familiar roads before turning onto a hidden track on the opposite side of the mountain.

  And this, Lina quickly realised, was a completely different world from the one she usually inhabited. A quietly wealthy part of the island, where rich tourists parted with huge amounts of money in order to be able to live the Sicilian dream—or rather, their version of that dream. But it was difficult to concentrate on the scenic beauty of these new surroundings. Difficult to look anywhere other than at the powerful thrust of Salvatore’s thighs.

  ‘Comfortable?’ he questioned obliquely.

  ‘Very,’ she lied.

  The shades he had donned made him seem even more sexy and inaccessible than before. Because he is inaccessible, she reminded herself fiercely. He’s a hunky billionaire who’s got a whole different life on the other side of the world. But none of those thoughts seemed to have any effect on her escalating excitement. It didn’t stop her breasts from hardening, or lessen the imperceptible tension which seemed to be building between them within the confined space of the car. Soon, it had reached such a pitch that Lina felt as if she’d forgotten how to breathe normally, and as a pair of ornate iron gates swung silently open she reached into her rucksack and surreptitiously turned off her phone, determined that nobody was going to disturb this day, least of all her mother. Because this was a one-off. She knew that. She wasn’t going to entertain any unrealistic expectations or try to second-guess what was about to happen, she was simply going to enjoy every second of it.

  ‘Madonna mia!’ she breathed, unguarded pleasure slipping from her lips as the gates closed behind them. ‘Is this for real?’

  A faint smile touched the edges of his lips. ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘Yes, I like it.’ Alighting from the car, she stood in the courtyard and stared up at an imposing house, surrounded by tall palm trees which soared up into the bright blueness of the sky. Dotted around the place were antique terracotta pots containing bright flowers and in the distance she could see the dark glitter of a swimming pool.

  A housekeeper appeared from within
the shadowed entrance of the house—a sharp-eyed woman wearing black who failed to return her nervous smile of greeting. But Lina heaved a silent sigh of relief because at least she didn’t recognise the woman as being from Caltarina. How difficult would that have been?

  ‘Carla, could you please arrange to have coffee sent down to the pool?’ Salvatore’s voice was smooth and entitled, before turning to Lina. ‘Come with me and I’ll show you where you can change.’

  Lina followed him through the grounds, telling herself she should be enjoying every aspect of this lovely garden, but it wasn’t flowers or shrubs she wanted to look at, and it wasn’t the exotic cacti or carefully positioned statues which were dominating her attention. She couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away from Salvatore’s broad shoulders where the thick black waves of his hair were curving decadently over his collar and making her wonder what it would be like to trickle her fingers through them. She stared at the fluid thrust of his hips as he walked along the path with a confident stealth which radiated power and strength.

  At last they came to a vast infinity pool—its water as dark as sapphires—with panoramic views over the green and golden countryside. But even that knockout view didn’t have any impact on her sudden overwhelming sense of self-consciousness at being in such an intimate situation with a man she didn’t really know.

  And yet she wasn’t scared. On some fundamental level she totally trusted him—and how crazy was that?

  ‘You can get changed in there,’ he said, pointing to a small building which resembled a Swiss chalet. ‘I’m going up to the house to put on something cooler.’

  Lina was relieved when he left, giving her time to compose herself, her relief short-lived when she consulted the full-length mirror and realised how frightful she looked. Hot and bothered and... She unbuttoned her blouse and unzipped her denim shorts and gave a silent groan as she slithered out of panties which felt uncomfortably...wet.

  And you know why that is, don’t you? mocked a taunting voice in her head. You might be a virgin who has never experienced a scintilla of desire but that doesn’t mean you can’t recognise it when it comes your way.

  Digging around in her rucksack, she located her swimsuit and pulled it on over her increasingly sticky body, before stepping back to look at the result. Only now the mirror revealed a much too curvy body unflatteringly covered in a plain navy swimsuit and Lina’s heart plummeted. What was she even doing here?

  Slipping from the chalet, she was thankful that Salvatore hadn’t returned, though she could see that a tray of coffee had been left on one of the tables. But she wasn’t going to hang around for refreshments. She would have a quick swim, get changed and then drive her scooter back home. Go back to where she belonged and forget all her foolish fantasies.

  Curling her toes over the edge of the pool, she dived deep into the sapphire waters and a restorative underwater length of the deliciously cool water calmed her fractious nerves a little. Rising up to the surface, she shook her head like a wet puppy, blinking against the sunlight to see Salvatore standing on the side of the pool, and she could feel the painful tightening of her nipples because he was wearing nothing but a pair of bathing trunks.

  Exasperation flooded over her. Of course he was wearing bathing trunks! Did she think he was about to go swimming in the black suit he’d worn for the funeral? So stop staring at him, she urged herself furiously. Do some more swimming and then get the hell out of here, back to where you belong.

  But she couldn’t.

  All she seemed capable of doing was treading water and staring up at him, because he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. His sculpted body gleamed olive in the bright sunshine and his dark, hair-roughened legs were planted firmly on the side of the pool as he stared right back. Lina licked her lips and tasted chlorine but barely noticed it because she couldn’t seem to drag her gaze away from him. His broad chest tapered down to a pair of narrow hips and the black Lycra of his bathers was clinging with disturbingly graphic definition to...to...

  Lina swallowed, feeling the sudden rise of colour to her cheeks, and swiftly she dived beneath the water again to swim another couple of lengths. But this time the water didn’t cool her and when she reached the shallow end of the pool he had slipped into the water and was waiting for her, just as she’d somehow known he would be. He was standing waist-deep, with tiny droplets glittering like scattered diamonds against all that rich golden skin. She wanted him so badly it was as if every atom of her body was longing for him to touch her. Suddenly she understood the reason for all the tension which had been slowly mounting throughout lunch and in the car afterwards. And despite her complete inexperience, Lina knew there was only one thing which could happen now.

  If she wanted to.

  She looked into his eyes and licked her lips again.

  She wanted to.

  Did he somehow read her thoughts or was it the hard thrust of her nipples against her navy costume which gave the game away? Was that why his body stiffened, as if someone had just turned him into stone? Lina didn’t know and she didn’t care, because suddenly it was as if she were being governed by something outside her control—by a force much greater than herself. It was as if she knew exactly what was going to happen, despite her total lack of experience and the laughable inequality which existed between them.

  He didn’t move—not one inch—but that didn’t come as a surprise to her either. She’d somehow guessed he wouldn’t.

  Because he doesn’t really want this, she recognised with a sudden understanding which went way beyond her actual experience. Oh, on one level he does—on the physical level, for sure. But he’s reluctant to initiate anything he might later regret. He doesn’t want to take responsibility for this.

  But she did.

  Somehow she knew she needed to.

  Which was why she went right up to him and turned her wet face to his, standing on tiptoe and placing her trembling palms on his broad wet shoulders so she could support herself. But mainly so she could touch her lips to his, and kiss him.

  CHAPTER THREE

  SALVATORE TRIED TO do the right thing. The only thing. Which was not to respond to her in any way. Even though her fingers were digging into his shoulders and her soaking breasts were pressing against his chest. Even though his erection was so hard it felt as if he were about to explode. His throat constricted as he attempted to keep as still as possible and not react, but it was proving almost impossible because he wanted to kiss Lina Vitale more than he could remember wanting to kiss anybody.

  He tried to tell himself she was not his type. In fact, she was the antithesis of his type. But that didn’t help him much either, because there was something so joyously vital about her. Those thick-lashed bourbon eyes. The mass of wet curls, which were streaming in a heavy mass over her luscious curves. It had been the same during the car journey here, when he’d been so achingly aware of her as she’d sat beside him. How had she managed to do that? He’d barely been able to keep his eyes on the road and when they’d arrived he’d left her to swim, quickly absenting himself in order to rid himself of his erotic thoughts. Alone, in the sane and cool surroundings of his bedroom, he’d thought he’d succeeded in that mission. And then he had seen her rising out of the water like a dark and voluptuous mermaid and—wham. Instant lust had combusted, and now this.

  His throat dried because something told him she had the potential to be trouble and he needed to get her out of here as quickly as possible. But then his intentions were detonated by the way she pressed herself closer so that their bodies melded together as if they’d been glued. He could feel the exquisite press of her diamond-hard nipples pushing against the wet material of her swimsuit. Still he didn’t voluntarily touch her, just moved his lips so that he could whisper directly into her ear as if someone were listening. But no one was listening. He knew that. He knew it because he’d dismissed the housekeeper and chauffeur for
the afternoon so that the place was now empty save for them. Had this been his unconscious agenda—to have a nearly naked Lina Vitale standing compliantly before him, and to be poised on the brink of having sex with her, despite his very real misgivings?

  ‘We aren’t going to do this,’ he husked, but he could feel his body tremble as he said it and it felt like a betrayal.

  ‘W-why not?’

  ‘Because...’ Pulling away from her ear, he forced himself to look into her eyes and he trembled again, cursing the inexplicable hunger which was heating his blood. He ground out the words with difficulty. ‘Because it’s pointless.’

  ‘Pointless?’

  Salvatore nodded. He’d noticed things about her when they’d been having lunch on the beach. Her trainers had been old and so had her scooter. She was poor and he wasn’t stupid. Newspapers regularly highlighted his eligibility. In the race to get him to the altar—which seemed to have been ongoing since he was barely out of puberty—Lina Vitale wouldn’t have made it past the starting post, so different was she from his usual choice of sexual partner. And she needed to be aware of that. He needed to destroy any foolish fantasies she might be nurturing before this went any further. He needed to tell her that any kind of shared future was a non-starter.

  ‘I’m leaving tomorrow. And even if I weren’t, nothing could ever come of this, Lina, for all kinds of reasons. We’re too different, do you understand?’

  ‘I don’t care about the differences!’ she burst out.

  Salvatore narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t used to such honesty and her fervent declaration was chipping away at his resolve. ‘If you really want this—’

  ‘I do!’

  ‘If you’re absolutely sure about it,’ he continued, biting each word out with deliberate emphasis, ‘then it’s going to be nothing but sex. One night and nothing more. And that’s why it shouldn’t happen.’