Lussuria (New Version) (11 page)

“Just a short time. I panicked when I saw you lying on the ground. Your pulse seemed erratic and you were muttering about running. We didn’t want to leave you outside on the cold concrete, so Sofia wanted to get you up to bed. She seemed to know what to do. Your friend Hazel was frantic. She was screaming, but then said you have a habit of fainting.”

“I’m mortified. Your poor grandparents. What must they think of me?” I mumble.

“What, those two? They will outlive us all. They are tough as old boots and very compassionate. How are you feeling?”

“My head hurts like mad, and my left arm and leg are aching. I must have bruised them with the fall, and I feel a little sick if I’m honest. I’ll be fine, though. I’ve fainted before and I’m sure after I sleep I’ll be grand.”

“I wish I could take this feeling away, Lexi. I’m so sorry to cause you distress. Really, I am. I need to explain. It kills me that I cause you to faint and upset you.”

“Lucca, wait. My shoulder and arm stings like hell. I think I’ve cut it. There’s antiseptic cream in my first aid bag in the ensuite.” I need to sort myself out first before I get his explanation.

“You cut your arm when you fell. Nonna said you banged and tore it on the corner of the patio table on the way down. Don’t worry, she bathed it and dressed it for you when you were coming around. She managed to stop the bleeding. It isn’t too deep, but perhaps you need stitches or glue. I don’t know. I’m not good with this sort of stuff.” He rubs my cheek while he says this.

God, it feels divine.

I reach my right hand over and feel the dressings on my shoulder and around my arm. It’s stirring up memories. I feel sick, very sick. Closing my eyes, I think about my mother bathing the wounds on my back after the whipping. Panic flares up inside me.

Oh God. I can’t hold it in.

“I’m going to be si-”

I try to alarm him; Lucca instinctively turns my head to the side and pulls my hair away. I vomit all over the pillow, coughing, retching and spurting, thankfully missing my hair.

Oh God, please kill me now.

My head is thumping, my neck is strained, and I want to close my eyes and never wake up from this mess.

There is sweat dripping from my brow. What a state to get myself in. “Lucca, I’m sorry. I wish I could just d-”

“Lexi, please don’t apologize, It’s alright. I’m going to help you, we need to get you better.” He slides me further across the bed, away from the vomit. I can’t believe I’m allowing a stranger to man handle me, but I’m not in a position to object.

“Are you going to be sick again?” he asks. I slowly shake my head to answer no. “I’m going to get a facecloth and some water for you. Don’t worry about the bed. Maria, the maid, will get it. These things happen. As long as you’re okay, that is important.” He gets up off the edge of the bed and walks toward the en suite.

“Would you mind getting my toothbrush and some toothpaste,” I ask. Now there is a question I never thought I would be asking a stranger.

He returns with toothpaste already on the toothbrush, I try to brush my teeth, but my arms are heavy, sore and lifeless, and slump back down.

“Here, let me. Open your mouth.” I do it because I would rather a few seconds feeling uncomfortable than having a long-winded uncomfortable chat with horrible breath. He gently brushes my teeth then gives me water to rinse, he holds his hand behind my head then lifts my head up, I spit into the glass he wipes under my mouth with his thumb. He gives me fresh water to drink, then places my head back down. Wiping my mascara from under my eyes, then continues over my face and neck. The warm face cloth feels lovely against my forehead, cheeks and chin; I close my eyes and let him clean all the sticky, sweat and saltiness away. I am dreading what I look like, I must look horrific, and it’s an unbearable thought. Then it occurs to me that both times I have met this stranger, I’ve been crying and looking frightful.

Fuck!

File S for Sort. Sort yourself out, girl!

“You can’t sleep here tonight. Come on.” Lucca gestures towards the vomit over the pillow and bed. Before I get a chance to protest, he has scooped me up in his rippling, masculine arms and carries me out of the room.

“Where are we going?”

He continues to walk robustly with me cradled in his strong arms down the hall and then carries me down a spiral staircase to the second floor. With each footstep he takes, my head is thumping increasingly as I shudder in his arms.

“I can stay in Hazel’s room. She was going to sleep with me tonight anyway.”

“No, I’m not leaving you alone, and I’m not going to roam uninvited into guest’s bedrooms.” He sounds assertive and respectful.

Persistent.

My joints are aching, and I really do feel exhausted and lifeless so I don’t protest. We reach the bottom of the stairs, he turns left through another corridor then opens the door at the end of the hall. A plaque on the door reads “La Fiducia” in bold italics.

“What does the room name mean?” I ask.

He stares into my eyes. “The one to trust.”

Butterflies.

He swings the door open and carries me over to the bed, gently laying me down. He switches on a bedside lamp, then sits next to me on the bed. I am too tired to look around the room. I don’t even have the energy or ability to turn my head, although I notice the room smells of him; sexy, masculine and pleasantly intoxicating.

“What do you want to eat? I will have Maurizio and Annalisa prepare something for you.” He holds my left hand, rubbing my palm and stroking his thumb across the front of it. It feels lovely, and my brain has definitely been subjected to trauma tonight.

“Annalisa?” I ask with uncertainty, hoping it’s not his girlfriend or wife coming back to find me in their bed.

“She is the other chef.”

“Honestly, I don’t think I could eat anything. My stomach probably couldn’t handle it, and I don’t want to waste their time making something I can’t eat.”

“You need strength, so you have to try and eat something. It will make you feel better,” he replies. I watch as Lucca sits up and retrieves his mobile from his trouser pockets. He makes a call, speaking in Italian.

“What did you say?” I ask.

“I called Nonno, to tell him I’ve moved you, and that Maria needs to clean your room, and to tell Hazel not to worry.” He sits back on the bed, gazing down at me. “Are you comfortable?” he asks.

“Yes, thank you.” I brace myself for the confrontation that has been looming. “Why are you here? Did you know I was going to be here?”

“No, I didn’t know you were here. Of course not. I was amazed when I saw you then you dropped the glass. I thought I was dreaming. I’m here for business. I’m looking at a property for renovation in Pienza. I normally stay with my parents, but Casa Sulla Collina has an influx of tourists because of the Jazz festival in the town so they are renovating. It’s hectic.”

“Why did you call my colleague Mark?”

“I called him to make an appointment, but when he offered me an appointment with him I declined. I knew I would be here all week, and I wanted another one with you when you returned from your holiday, so I was prepared to wait.” He looks intensely at me, igniting a hot flame and electric flicker. There is no missing the desire in his sparkly blue eyes.

“Did Mark tell you I was here?”

“I said I hoped you were off somewhere nice, and he mentioned you were going to Italy. Of course, I asked where in Italy. He said somewhere in Tuscany, and I thought this was a huge coincidence as I knew I’d be here too, but it’s a big place, and I thought the chances of meeting you were slim. Until I saw you so distressed this evening. I had the wind taken from me when you collapsed.”

This seems quite plausible, and I think I believe him. He has been sincere and convincing so far.

“Now it’s my turn,” he says as he moves my hair away from the side of my face.

“Your turn for what?”

“To ask the questions.”

Oh, good Lord. I can’t divulge insecurities, paranoia and haunting ghosts from my past to someone I have only known two minutes.

“Why did you run away from me? And why are you so uptight and anxious. Have I offended or upset you?” Lucca wants his own answers, and since he has shown me no reason to disbelieve him, I will have to be relatively honest.

“No, you haven’t offended me. I just can’t talk about it. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings…I just have personal issues that I don’t handle particularly well, and many of these problems have challenged me over the past two days.”

He isn’t convinced. “Lexi, you asked if I had taken you, if you were going to die. What did you mean? Why would you say that? Fuck…”

He sounds very concerned, and he’s clenching his teeth and moving his jaw as he runs his hands through his shaggy bed hair. Even in his distress, he still looks sexy hot and smoldering.

Brain trauma.

“I don’t remember saying that. I must have been confused.” This is exhausting, and I need to change the subject. “Lucca, please, I’m tired. I don’t know what I was thinking”

“You’re not being honest, I can tell, but you’re tired and in pain, so I’m not going to press it just now.”

How does he know I am lying? And what the hell does he mean just now? We will not be having this conversation again. Period. End of. The thought of him knowing my innermost fears sends shivers down my spine, and my body begins to tremble.

“Fuck, you’re shaking. Come here.”

He walks around the other side of the bed, kicks his shoes off, then lies on his side next to me I’m stunned. He wraps a blanket over me, then drapes his arm over my body to hug me in a warm embrace, careful not to press the dressing on my shoulder. Mentally, I’m freaking out, but physically I surrender as weakness has absorbed my entire limbs. Twenty-four hours ago I would have screamed blue murder, but I’m exhausted and vulnerable.

I lie beside him, shaking for a few minutes until he soothes me gently. Lucca buries his head into my neck, stroking my hair and whispers in my ear, “Please, trust me. I’ve got you… I promise.”

I relax into his embrace, feeling secure in his protective snuggle. Closing my eyes, I feel him tuck an unruly curl behind my ear. Inhaling his sexy scent, I visualize myself drifting in water the colour of his eyes, floating in a tropical sea relaxed and warm.

Enchanting.

“A promise is a promise…” I softly whisper before losing myself to sleep.

Flaring up the Fire

“No, I’m scared ...

Don’t hurt me. No, I can’t. Please don’t. Stop. Please stop. Don’t touch me….”

Suffocation.

My sleep is disturbed, I have the repetitive nightmare, where I am standing in the dark stone outbuilding, and my vest is torn off me under the threat of the knife blade. I start thrashing my legs around.

“Lexi, Lexi wake up. Its okay, it’s okay. Please don’t worry. You’re safe, you’re safe.” Lucca holds his arms tightly around my body, then presses his lips to the side of my face and kisses my temple. He strokes my hair with his other hand, hushing me.

“Where am I?” I ask breathlessly.

“You’re in the Villa. You had a nightmare, but you’re okay. It‘s Lucca, I’m taking care of you like I…I promised.” My chest rises and falls as I relax my muscles, unclenching my fists and steadying my legs. “You collapsed earlier tonight, do you remember?”

“Yes, I must have been dreaming of something different.”

“Do you want some water?” he softly asks.

“Yes, please. My mouth is so dry,” I barely whisper. He stretches to put the bedside lamp on. He gives me two painkillers for the pain and some water.

Oh no. I need to pee. Why now?

“What’s wrong, Lexi? You look worried.”

Closing my eyes, I mumble, “I need to use the bathroom.”

He laughs. “Well, when you need to go, you need to go,” he jokes.

“You’ll need to wake Hazel up so that she can take me.” I sound demanding.

“No chance. I’ll take you.”

He is so sure of himself. “No, you bloody won’t. I’m not peeing in front of a stranger,” I spurt out.

“We’re not exactly strangers now. You’ve massaged me and met my family, so I’d say we’ve done formalities. I’ve witnessed you vomit, so peeing isn’t a hassle.” He grins smugly, looking pleased with himself.

“No way,” I retort.

He runs his hands through his thick, black, wavy hair. “Oh for fuck’s sake, come on.”

Before I know it, he has scooped me up off the bed and walked into the ensuite with me in his arms. He lifts the toilet lid up with his foot while he balances on one leg, then places me on top of it “Do you need me to help you?”

I’m about to hyperventilate here.

“No, I can manage. Thanks very much.”

He stands at the door and shuts it to give me some privacy, I pee as quickly as I can as my head feels like a boulder and I am struggling to keep it up. I pull my lace panties back up and fix my dress, I think I might actually be able to do this, so I stand up, only to come crashing back down on the marble tiles. My legs are trembling, unsteady, and cannot take my weight. The door flies open and Lucca whisks me up into his arms and puts me back down on the bed gently.

“Why on earth did you try to stand up? I would have lifted you.”

“Because I’m very independent and not used to having someone caring for me so intimately.”

I’ve silenced him. The room is eerily quiet, and I realize I’ve said too much.

Tumbleweed.

“What time is it?” I ask, trying to change the subject.

“It’s 2.30am. You want to talk about that bad dream you were having?”

I wish he would drop this. “No. I just want to go back to sleep.” I yawn as I say this so that he knows I’m genuinely tired.

“Okay, can I keep my arm wrapped around you?”

I think I feel suffocated, but the reality is I do actually want this. Damn it, I will deal with it tomorrow.

“Okay, yes. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He kisses my temple and says quietly, “Voi siete la più bella donna intrigante che abbia mai conosciuto. You are the most beautiful, intriguing woman I have ever met.”