Falling for Italy (9 page)

She noticed his face was covered by dark stubble, which made him look even sexier, polished yet outdoorsy. Of course, either of the rugged-looking sportsman or the classy businessman was breathtaking in his own way. And now, when he looked down at her with those dark eyes, his tanned skin damp, she felt more lost in him than she ever had.

He knelt in front of her next to the bench and bent down to kiss her softly. His lips tasted salty, as did hers, but she didn’t care. She slid her hands over his torso, caressing his nipples and a low husky sound vibrated in his chest. He deepened the kiss, tightening his hold on her, pulling her closer until they were on the floor and she straddled him. Their mouths and tongues fit together so well, uniting them in the rhythm their bodies yearned to be. His touch, his scent, his nearness drove her to the sweet brink of madness every time she had him close. She felt him hard against her and pressed her middle down to him, their moans entangling with their rapid breaths. He took her face in his hands, looking deeply into her eyes, his own gaze dark with desire.

“We can’t do this tonight. I don’t want to hurt you again.”

When she moved over him in protest, he closed his eyes, breathing deeply, as though trying to control his impulses—as wild as were hers in that moment.

“I want you so bad, Sonia, you know that. You feel that. But we can’t, not tonight. Let’s shower, dress and I’ll take you home,” he said, pressing her face against his shoulder, holding her tightly.

She wanted to argue, but how could she without making herself seem a slut? Strangely, she’d never felt like one. Never. Giovanni made her feel special, even pure—if it didn’t sound so crazy. Could a woman still be pure after doing what they did together, feeling as she did for him? She wondered.

“Okay,” she replied at last, getting up slowly, feeling sore in every muscle. “Since you don’t have a towel, I’ll shower first, and then you can use mine. Unless you want to shower with me.”

Seeing the agony mixed with ecstasy on his face and hearing his groan, she laughed.

“Fine, fine, I won’t talk about sex tonight. Nor think about us making love, hot and sweaty, in my big comfortable bed, all naked and—”

He threw his tank top after her, as she headed to the locker rooms that had each a small adjoining bath.

While she showered and dressed, she thought about teasing him further, but gave up that thought, shamed. He could have taken his own pleasure without caring about her discomfort. Instead, he was so gentle and considerate, as no man she knew could have been. Suddenly, she felt tears sting her eyes and looked at her reflection in the mirror, puzzled and scared.

“What the hell is the matter with me?” she asked her image in a whisper. “I can’t fall in love with him. He belongs in another country, in another world…”

She rubbed a hand over her mouth, thinking maybe she should stop seeing him altogether before it was too late. Maybe she wouldn’t suffer so much when he’d leave. But she wasn’t a coward. And only a coward would do such a thing, she knew. She rinsed her face in cold water, straightened her shoulders, plastered a smile on her face and went back to him. She handed him the damp towel, saying, “I only used half to dry off, so you have a dry corner left.”

“Thanks.” He took the towel from her, kissing her softly. Then he headed to the shower, leaving her to watch the falling snowflakes’ ethereal dance and listen to Bonnie Tyler’s
I Need A Hero
. She’d found hers, but he was as unreachable as the moon.

Chapter Seven

Giovanni awoke with an unpleasant feeling, the cause of which he couldn’t quite identify. He looked drowsily around the dimly lit room, wondering what was wrong. Then he remembered Sonia was due to leave for Manchester that day and his spirits sank even lower. What was this addiction he’d developed for this woman in such a short time? Was he truly in love with her? He hadn’t ever been in love, so he didn’t know what it felt like. But this permanent state of acute need he experienced regarding her couldn’t be anything less.

He rolled onto his back and rubbed his face with both hands, trying to put some order into his thoughts. He really needed to clarify once and for all his feelings for Sonia.

He desired her, yes, more than he had any other woman, but on his part things went far beyond that. He was addicted to her presence, her smile, her delightful sense of humor. He enjoyed talking to her as much as he enjoyed making love with her. They’d spent their nights together as much talking to one another as they had pleasuring each other. He knew so many things about her—what she liked, what she thought, how she felt about different things. And he’d told her things about himself no one knew, not even Linda. He’d simply opened his heart to her, and she had stepped in, never to be removed.

Pirata, who’d slept in his bed, curled at his feet, interrupted his thoughts. Noticing he was awake, the cat stretched idly before strolling toward his human companion and climbing over his legs. The white furry mass stopped on his bare chest, purring noisily, kneading his skin with sharp claws. Giovanni smiled and stroked his head, thinking of Guccio, the stray dog he’d adopted. He missed the big, shaggy, brown mongrel that resembled Scooby Doo, being just as fun and affectionate as the most popular cartoons character. He hoped his housekeeper was taking good care of him. In fact, as much as he liked Linda’s and Gerard’s house, he missed his own. He had intended to spend the holidays in England, but plans had changed. He would stay for their wedding of course, but after that he would take his leave. It was time to go home.

* * * *

Sonia’s day went by in a blur. With six teenagers and just as many guns in her care, she didn’t have time even to eat before that very moment. They had taken the train to Manchester and registered at the usual hotel where they stayed when attending competitions. The girls had taken one large, three-bed room, the boys another one, and she had her own, with a double bed and huge TV. She laid on the bed, uncurling her numb toes and eating her second sandwich with a large portion of fries.

The trip had been long—nearly three hours—not to mention the hullabaloo that awaited them at arrival. Get a cab, check the kids into the hotel, get another cab and go to the shooting range to attend the official instructors’ meeting—usually held the day before the competition. Finally, with a headache and growling stomach, she had returned to the hotel.

Now she was watching The Ugly Truth, a movie she particularly liked. She put the empty food bag on the nightstand and took another sip from the hot chocolate she’d ordered from room service. She turned down the TV’s sound and called Giovanni.

“Hey, stranger,” she said when she heard his voice.

“Hi, princess.” His voice sounded husky and sleepy. “How are you?”

“Right now I’m great, basking in a big warm bed and drinking hot chocolate.”

“How was your trip?”

“Ugh, don’t ask. It was hell, like always,” she said and proceeded to tell him briefly about her day. “What did you do today?”

“I thought of you,” he replied, making a smile blossom on her face. “I must sound stupid, but I already miss you, Sonia. When are you coming back?”

“The day after tomorrow, I think. But the good news is that, starting then, I’m on holiday for a whole month. No work, no worries, just lazing around all day long.”

He laughed. “That sounds great. Don’t forget Linda’s and Gerard’s wedding is in five days.”

“You’re kidding, right? How could I forget when I can’t stop obsessing about what I’m going to wear? I didn’t even ask where they’re going to hold the reception.”

“At the same restaurant the masquerade party was.”

“Oh, good. I loved that place. Well, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Take care, okay?”

“You too. Dream about me tonight, will you?”

She smiled again, knowing she would.

“I’m fairly sure I will. Giovanni,” she added after a beat, “I miss you too. You have no idea how much.”

She put down the phone, ending the conversation on that lingering note. It was true though. She missed him terribly—his smile, his scent, his nearness, his calm deep voice, his body next to hers. They’d spent two nights together and it had been bliss. The thought of his leaving for his own home drove her to despair. What was she going to do without him? Could she get over him as easily as she had first thought? One thing she knew for certain now, and it was hard to admit it even to herself. She loved him. For the first time in her life, she really loved a man.

She fell asleep with this thought circling around her mind, where strange and mixed dreams haunted her until morning.

The next day she was awakened by one of the girls, who was knocking insistently at her door.

“Miss Galsworthy, are you awake? It’s Tara. It’s seven-thirty. We’re gonna be late for breakfast.”

She lifted her head a fraction and shouted, “You and the others go eat, Tara! I’ll skip breakfast. Be ready to leave at eight sharp.”

After the girl left, she rolled out of bed and literally crawled under the shower, where she washed away most of her fatigue under a jet of scalding water. She dressed hastily and applied some makeup, then jogged down the stairs. Her kids awaited in the hotel’s lobby, each carrying their gun cases and equipment bags. After a short inventory to check if everyone had everything they could possibly need, she ordered two taxis.

She stuffed herself and the girls in one and got the boys in the other, telling the drivers to take them to the shooting range on the outskirts of the city.

Despite the cold and foggy day, she felt good and her blood tingled with excitement, as it did before every competition, big or small, important or not. She knew the girls were terrified, like she used to be in the beginning. Even after ten years of practicing this sport, she was still nervous when she participated as an athlete, not so much as a trainer. However, she’d learned to enjoy that feeling, the escalated heartbeat, tenseness and knot in her stomach. She knew her kids would get used to it. If they lasted. Not many did. Target shooting was a demanding sport, in which one should invest effort, discipline, patience and tenacity. Few had that kind of strong calling and passion in their genes.

They reached the range almost at the same time as the boys’ cab. She joked with the kids, trying to make the atmosphere more relaxed as they warmed up in a room built for that exact purpose. The girls were to shoot first, and the boys half an hour after the girls finished. The boys were to stay and warm up, then rest or come watch their female colleagues if they chose.

At a quarter to ten, they all went in the shooting area and her girls occupied their positions, getting in line with the other female shooters, making their last minute preparations. There were more than fifty participants in their age group, which was juniors—under twenty years old.

When the arbitrator’s strong clear voice announced the beginning of the competition, her own heartbeat accelerated with the old feeling of nervousness and anticipation she knew her kids must feel. She stood behind them at the established distance, along with the other trainers. They chatted around her, but she was focused only on her pupils, walking slowly behind each one, consulting her small binoculars now and then.

They did fine, especially Adele. She was the best of the group, but Tara and Gina handled themselves well enough after a bumpy start. By the time they had finished, Sonia made some approximate calculations and was fairly sure they would get a team medal—possibly even gold, depending on the finals.

The boys did even better, not appearing to be as nervous as the girls. Simon surprised them all by making a spectacular score, to his own amazement.

Sonia knew these results weren’t conclusive, but she was nevertheless happy when, after long hours of hard work and the usual awarding ceremony, they returned to the hotel carrying two gold team medals and one silver individual medal—Simon’s, who was so proud his cheeks looked rouged, framing a huge smile.

They had a copious dinner and Sonia let each one of them drink just a sip of champagne to celebrate their success. She knew they needed small rewards like this and she wanted to indulge them. After dinner they all retired to their rooms, tired but happy, with the feeling of accomplishment topping the day.

Sonia took a hot shower and barely had the energy to call Giovanni before she fell into a deep sleep, between the thick blankets and pillows.

* * * *

The next day, Giovanni paced Sonia’s living room, consulting his watch every five minutes, absently aware of the music coming from her sound system. He’d chosen one of her CDs to play and now Bonnie Tyler was singing about her
Total Eclipse of the Heart
, making him even more anxious.

It was half past five and nearly dark outside. Sonia should have been back by now. He looked again at the lavish flower arrangements with which he’d filled her flat. He nearly had to beg her next door neighbor to let him in. The extravagant old woman had seen him with Sonia one time. Gaping at the army of delivery boys accompanying him and carrying huge crystal vases filled with red roses, she’d sighed deeply. While she unlocked Sonia’s door using her spare key, she’d kept repeating over and over how romantic and thoughtful he was and how lucky her neighbor was.

He wondered if Sonia would think the same or if she’d be upset he had entered her flat without her permission.

He heard the front door unlocking and stood motionless, hands in his pockets, surrounded by roses. The room smelled intoxicatingly exotic and looked even more so, lit only by a corner lamp.

Soon came the sound of her dumping her luggage on the floor and taking off her boots. She was just shaking off her coat when she stepped into the living room and spotted him. She froze on the threshold, her lips parted in surprise, then gazed slowly around the room, her eyes growing round and shiny.

She’d never looked more beautiful to him. The two days without her had been agony. He’d felt restless and edgy, not finding pleasure in anything, trying to abstain from calling her every hour. He’d never in his entire life experienced that feeling of emptiness and lack of purpose. He, who was self-confidence itself, was now watching her like a freaking lost puppy, unsure of what he should do, unsure of her feelings and reactions.

When she jumped into his arms, laughing with joy and hugging him tightly, he felt whole again, as if the missing piece of his heart was back in his chest. Her cheeks were cold and she smelled of winter. He kissed her long and deep, possessively holding her body glued to his. She responded to him with the same passion and longing that were burning in his blood, embracing him hard, kissing his every feature, telling him how much she’d missed him. His heart contracted hearing her words, knowing she meant them. They stood a long moment silhouetted against the glass wall and he held her in his arms, burying his face in her hair.

“I’ve missed you too, Sonia,” he said finally, almost in a whisper. “You’ve no idea how much.”

She looked at him and smiled.

“I think I do. How did you get in here anyway?” she asked and gently detached herself to walk around the room, admiring the rose vases strategically placed.

“Well, your neighbor, Mrs. Nolan, took pity on me and the twelve guys who carried the flowers and let us in.”

She turned to him.

“Twelve guys? Showoff! You’re just tryin’ to impress me.”

He grinned.

“How am I doing?”

She looked at him seriously.

“Perfect. Just perfect. Thank you, Giovanni, this is…”

She gestured to encompass the room, speechless, and her eyes shone with what he suspected were tears of joy.

“It’s the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

She went to him and cupped his face between her palms.

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He swallowed hard while his heart raced, invaded by nameless yet so familiar emotions.

“There’s something else in the bedroom, but first tell me how your trip was, how are the—”

He didn’t have time to finish before she rushed to the bedroom. He waited for a few moments, listening to her intake of breath as he envisioned her admiring the flower arrangements scattered all over the room, spreading their charming fragrance. Then he heard the rustle of paper, as she opened the box waiting on the bed. He smiled when she loudly and clearly exclaimed, “Oh, my God! Giovanni, this is gorgeous!”

He walked slowly to the bedroom and remained in the doorway, watching her while she took out the pale pink cashmere dress he’d bought for her. She went to the mirror, putting the dress against her. It fit perfectly, as he knew it would. He knew her body as well as he knew his own.