‘Take it off,’ he urged her unevenly. ‘Undress me, Lina.’
It was empowering to register that note of undisguised need in his voice. But it was nothing but lust, Lina reminded herself as she pulled the garment over his head, though he seemed reluctant to allow her trembling fingers anywhere near his jeans. Quickly, he unzipped her cotton dress and tossed it aside, though he hesitated when he saw her plain white underwear beneath. What was it about that which made his rugged face darken, as if he were having second thoughts? Lina tightened her arms around him and could feel the hard spring of his erection pressing through their clothes, and as he gave what sounded like a soft moan of surrender, everything began to happen very quickly.
Peeling off his jeans, she saw he was naked underneath and very aroused and she let out a gulp of pleasure as he took off her bra and panties and pushed her down onto the bed. Her heart slammed against her rib-cage and already she was at such a pitch of excitement that she couldn’t bear to wait for a second longer. Was that why she opened her thighs to give him access to the engorged little bud which he began to strum with sweet accuracy, making her cry out with pleasure, so that he had to kiss her into silence.
‘Salvatore,’ she moaned, against his lips.
‘More?’
She ground her hips against the mattress. ‘Yes.’
His movement became more intense, the position of his fingertip uniquely provocative.
‘I’ve been thinking about doing this ever since you left my bed this morning,’ he bit out roughly.
‘So have...so have...’ But her sentence was destined never to be finished because an orgasm had begun to clench its way through her body and Lina cried out as she began to convulse with the first of those achingly sweet spasms.
The sound seemed to galvanise him into action but he waited until her body was no longer shuddering, before reaching for a condom and stroking it on. And then he moved on top of her and pushed deep inside her, his face dark with fierce concentration. At first, his movements were slow and considered and somehow Lina realised he was waiting for her to have another orgasm before giving into his own. That first fluttering realisation gave way to a heavy beat of expectation, which kept on growing and growing until suddenly her rainbow world was splintering all over again and he was choking out his own gratification.
Afterwards, her arms tightened around him until the sound of his breathing grew less ragged. Tentatively, her tongue flicked out to taste the salt of his skin and she could feel the hardness of one hair-roughened thigh as it lay sprawled over hers. It felt intimate. Intensely intimate—as if they were the only two people in the world. As if all that perfect physicality had forged a special bond between the two of them. As if all the barriers they had both erected around themselves had just slipped away. And somehow that made what had just happened seem perfectly acceptable. Did sex always make you feel like this? she wondered dreamily as she reached out her finger to trickle it slowly down his chest. But her innocent gesture seemed to stir him into action and, even though she could have stayed like that all day, he now seemed determined to move away from her. Suddenly he was rolling onto the other side of the bed and it was as if a giant canyon had sprung up between them.
‘Is everything okay?’ she asked, before wondering if that was the kind of thing you were supposed to say at a time like this.
Salvatore heard the soft uncertainty in her voice and guessed what she wanted. She was probably craving reassurance, keen for him to offer something tangible in terms of a relationship now that they’d been intimate again. But he couldn’t do that, and what had just happened should never have happened. He felt a surge of anger, knowing he should have left well alone. He should have blocked out her intoxicating allure, which had reeled him in for all the wrong reasons. He should have sent her away to the other cabin and ignored the urgent throb at his groin which had made him lose control. Because she was wrong on so many counts. Too sweet. Too trusting. Too innocent and untried for a man with his track record of emotional coldness. He would hurt her and he had no right to hurt her, though maybe he wouldn’t tell her that. Better she think of him as indifferent, rather than understanding.
Or try to change his mind.
‘We need to get a couple of things straight before we land,’ he drawled. ‘The sex we’ve just had was amazing, for sure, but it hasn’t actually changed anything. It was just a moment of physical desire which demanded some kind of release. That’s what sometimes happens between a man and a woman. Do you understand what I’m saying?’
‘I think I’d have to be pretty stupid not to,’ she said.
Salvatore hesitated. He was finding this much harder than he’d expected, mainly because she looked so damned beautiful lying there, her olive limbs sprawled against the sheets with indolent abandon. But he steeled himself against the sudden bewilderment which had clouded her lovely features. ‘You’re going to be staying in my home and that’s something which has never happened before. I like my own space and the idea of a lover being around all the time fills me with dread.’
‘I suppose I should thank you for your honesty,’ she said.
‘I am nothing if not honest, Lina.’ He swung his legs over the side of the bed. ‘Up until now your life has been protected—by your mother and by the constraints of a small community. But you’re going to be living in a big city from now on and you need to learn how to protect yourself. I’m not your guardian and I’m not your boyfriend.’ His mouth twisted as he stood up and looked down at her. ‘And a naïve young woman clinging to me like a limpet has never been on my wish-list.’
‘I have no intention of behaving like a limpet,’ she said, with a sudden proud tilt of her chin.
That one simple movement was enough to stir the beginnings of another erection, and Salvatore nearly reached for her again, before stopping himself. Because Lina Vitale could so easily become a millstone around his neck—and that would be way too high a price to pay for the fleeting pleasures of sex.
A chill of awareness whispered over his skin.
She knew no one in San Francisco other than him.
Despite her undeniable sweetness and the lure of her lush body, from now on she needed to be off-limits.
He would provide her with a temporary home, yes. He would ensure she met some of his contacts so she could find herself a job. And once she had gained some independence he could filter her out of his life, for good. He could move her on, having taught her a very important lesson.
That she must never grow to depend on him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘WE’RE HERE,’ SAID Salvatore curtly as the car glided through noiseless electronic gates to draw up in a sheltered inner courtyard.
They had flown into San Francisco—over the iconic bridge and the wide sweep of water which it straddled—before making their way to Salvatore’s home. He lived in an area called Russian Hill and Lina thought she’d never seen anywhere quite so affluent. Yet from the outside, the property was relatively unassuming, with tall gates concealing the building from prying eyes. But once those gates had closed she found herself staring up at a modern four-storey building, set in surprisingly extensive grounds, studded with brightly flowering shrubs and heavily loaded citrus trees, which reminded her of home.
‘Like it?’ Salvatore questioned, his eyes on her face.
She nodded, not terribly interested in his real estate, but at least it was good to have something to focus on other than the way he had been keeping his distance from her since they’d fallen onto that bed together, high up above the world, in the clouds. Sex on a plane. Nobody could deny that her world was opening up in all kinds of unexpected ways. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she said dutifully.
The front door was opened by a sombre-faced man, wearing a formal dark suit. ‘This is my butler, Henry,’ said Salvatore.
His butler?
‘It’s good to have you ba
ck, Signor di Luca,’ Henry said, with a pronounced English accent and the faint semblance of a smile.
‘This is Nicolina Vitale, Henry. She’s going to be staying here for a few weeks until she’s settled in the city. I thought we could put her in one of the vacant cottages. The one furthest from the house might be best.’
‘Certainly, Signor di Luca. One of your assistants telephoned earlier and the farthest cottage is already prepared,’ Henry answered. ‘Perhaps you would care for me to give Miss Vitale a tour around the compound?’
‘If you wouldn’t mind.’ Salvatore pulled his phone out of his pocket and briefly scanned the screen, before shooting Lina an absent-minded look. ‘Look, I need to work. Henry will answer any questions you may have and you and I will eat dinner later, as it’s your first night here. Eight o’clock, on the terrace. Okay?’
‘Thank you,’ said Lina, watching him walk away and wondering what on earth she could find to say to the intimidating butler. But she hadn’t exactly had much conversation with Salvatore over the past few hours, had she? In fact, their erotic encounter seemed to have created a great space between them. He had treated her with the same polite detachment as he had the stewardesses who had been serving them drinks and food during the transatlantic flight. And Lina had been left trying to focus on that wretched magazine—trying to blot out the aching in her breasts and the memory of him feasting hungrily on her nipples.
She followed Henry through the house and tried to drink it all in, but it wasn’t easy for her to get her head around the fact that one man could own a property this big. It was all clean lines and uncluttered space which contained sleek, modern furniture. A space-age kitchen led into not one but two dining rooms, one of which was reached by a glass elevator. The basement housed a carefully lit subterranean art gallery as well as a private cinema, and outside were more seating areas amid tangles of fragrant climbing plants, and a long, cantilevered swimming pool. The highest point of all was the dining terrace, with its sweeping views all the way to Alcatraz and everything in between.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ said Lina politely, though in truth she found it all a little overpowering. ‘Have you worked for Salvatore for very long?’
‘Five years,’ said Henry. ‘I first met Signor di Luca at a weekend house party in England when he poached me from the host, and I’ve been with him ever since.’ He gave the hint of a smile. ‘He tends to inspire loyalty among his staff.’
‘Just how many staff are there?’ questioned Lina.
‘He has a full-time chef and Shirley, who helps out when Signor di Luca chooses to dine at home. And, naturally, there are cleaning staff, gardeners, drivers—the usual kind of thing.’
Lina nodded sagely, as if the concept of personal staff was something she encountered every day of the week.
‘Was there anything else you wanted to know, Miss Vitale?’
‘No, you’ve been very helpful. Thank you, Henry. And, please, I’d much rather you called me Nicolina.’
Henry nodded but gave no outward response to her request, other than indicating she should follow him, before leading the way through the grounds to a compact cottage surrounded by trees.
Once the butler had gone, Lina stared out of the window, watching the light beginning to leach from the sky and thinking how surreal this all felt. Because it was surreal. One moment she had been living in a village with practically nothing and the next she was staying in the grounds of a billionaire’s mansion, being shown around by a butler.
She had no real place here, she realised. Only a temporary one. Just as she had no real place in Salvatore’s life. He had seduced her on the plane and she’d let him. Actually, she’d felt herself powerless to do anything else. It had been like a river she’d once seen after the rains, when the water had swollen and banks had burst—flooding everything in its path. And that was what it had been like with Salvatore. That sweet tide of desire had been overwhelming and maybe she needed to think how best to defend herself from feeling that way in the future.
She unpacked her case, then enjoyed a long shower in a bathroom of unspeakable luxury, and, after she’d untangled her curls and dressed, decided to email her mother. They might have parted on bitter terms, but she needed to know that her only child had arrived safely. She switched on her old computer, the glow from the screen dominating her line of vision so that for a while Lina forgot all about Salvatore di Luca and the Californian sky outside her window.
* * *
Salvatore walked out onto the wide sweep of terrace and at first he didn’t notice her. The light had almost faded from the day and he was preoccupied, as he’d been from the moment he’d arrived at the office, where the staff had seemed surprised to see him working so soon after a long flight. He couldn’t blame them because usually he would have spent the afternoon relaxing. He might have swum in the pool or worked out in the gym. But not today—and he knew why. He’d been afraid of running into Lina. Afraid of reliving the way she’d made him feel during the journey from Sicily, when he had felt himself being sucked into that sensual maelstrom despite his determination to resist her. But he hadn’t resisted her, had he? He’d allowed her uncomplicated Sicilian beauty to lure him into an unforgettable mile-high encounter—the memory of which he suspected would never leave him.
He’d come home just an hour ago but even a long, icy shower had failed to cool the heat in his blood, and now his attention was caught by the woman sitting on the terrace in front of him, her profile etched starkly against the fiery glow of the setting sun. She was leaning back against a bank of cushions on a low divan, her posture outwardly relaxed as she gazed out at the city view, but her shoulders were hunched with that expectant air of someone who was waiting.
Waiting for him, he thought, and that realisation filled him with an instinctive shiver of disquiet.
She must have heard him for she turned, unable to hide the quick flash of pleasure in her eyes, which she instantly tried to disguise with a look of polite interest.
‘Salvatore! You’re back.’ She was speaking softly in Sicilian dialect, which itself was disorientating. Was that because it made him think of the past—and of a homeland from which he had been so keen to distance himself? He wanted to tell her to speak only in English, which he knew was unreasonable, yet their spoken bond only added another unsettling layer to his dealings with her. And he wondered yet again what strange sorcery she possessed which was capable of cutting through his habitual iron-hard control.
She scrambled to her feet, the skirt of her cotton dress whispering like a summer breeze, and Salvatore felt a sensation of something unfamiliar as her black curls rippled down around her shoulders. Lust, yes—there was definitely plenty of that, along with an instinctive appreciation for her natural beauty, but there was another flicker of apprehension, too. Don’t let her get used to this, he found himself thinking. Don’t let her think he wanted this kind of cloying homecoming every night.
‘Yes, I’m back,’ he said smoothly as he ran his finger around the collar of his shirt. ‘Did you settle in okay? Did Henry give you the full guided tour?’
‘Yes, he did. The tour was amazing and the cottage is lovely.’
Heaven save him from sustained small talk, he thought acidly as he lifted his hand to summon the portly figure of a woman who had silently appeared in the shadows, switching rapidly to English as he spoke to her. ‘We’ll eat as soon as you’re ready, Shirley.’
‘Very good, Signor di Luca.’
He half filled two glasses of Gavi and handed one to Lina, but he noticed that she barely tasted the drink, cupping it in her hands as if she’d forgotten she was holding it. It was probably completely unconscious, but in that moment she looked so...fragile as she sat there, so clearly out of her depth that Salvatore felt a sudden wave of compassion—and empathy. Because hadn’t he once been exactly where she was now? Hadn’t he once gazed around at the sumptuous surrounding
s of billionaire homes and felt as if he’d fallen onto an alien planet?
‘So.’ He put his glass down on one of the low tables and fixed her with an encouraging smile. ‘Did you manage to amuse yourself while I was out?’
Lina nodded as she wrapped her fingers around the cold glass of wine. ‘I wrote to my mother and let her know I’d arrived safely and then I started looking online to see what kind of jobs I might be able to find. Soft furnishing companies which need people to sew cushions, or drapes—that kind of thing.’
‘And is that what you want to do?’ He frowned. ‘What about all those dreams you talked about?’
She shrugged. ‘They don’t just happen.’
‘Couldn’t you make them happen?’
Lina swirled her wine around in her glass. It was so easy for him to talk. What would he say if she confessed she was terrified her ambitions might wither under the brightness of the Californian sun? ‘I have to have some money coming in first,’ she said. ‘And then I’ll see. I have savings, but I’m going to be very careful about how I spend them.’
‘Well, that sounds like a very sensible plan.’ His voice was grave but she could see the faint upward curve of his lips. Was he inwardly laughing at her? she wondered.
But Lina pushed aside her concerns as she sat down at the table, determined to enjoy her dinner. The meal began with a creamy fish soup, which Salvatore called chowder, followed by a fillet of perfect fish, served with its own little jug of sauce. She tucked into every course with a keen appetite, putting her dessert spoon down at the end to find Salvatore studying her, with what looked like amusement sparking from his narrowed eyes. ‘It’s good to see a woman who enjoys her food,’ he observed.
‘I was hungry.’
‘I could see that. Don’t look so defensive. I meant it. Most women order a plate of rabbit food and then just pick at it.’
Cinderella In The Sicilian's World (HQR Presents) Page 7
