CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER FIVE
D ANTE WASN ’ T CLOSE to anyone—though he did make an effort for Gio.
‘Hey...’ He gave him a kiss. ‘Is there anything you want me to discuss with Christo at the winery?’
‘No, just make sure he is happy...ask if there’s anything he needs.’
‘Of course. I spoke to him last week.’
‘Face to face is better, Dante.’
‘I know.’ He took a breath. ‘So, you want to get these cleaned?’ He took a seat and picked up one of the bracelets. ‘This was Nonna’s, yes?’
‘No.’ Gio shook his head. ‘That was my grandmother’s.’ He looked at the sapphires, then paused as Dante picked up a string of pearls. ‘They were your mother’s.’
‘Yes.’ Dante nodded, assailed by memories of her and his papa about to head out. He put them back down, instead lifted a heavy emerald choker. ‘This was Nonna’s?’
‘There’s a stone loose,’ Gio said. ‘I should have had it looked at ages ago. She liked them to be cleaned at least every year.’
‘We’ll sort it.’
‘When?’
‘I can call the jeweller...’ He paused, thought of his hectic week, but decided, for Gio, he would take some time off. ‘I could see if we can go in tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow?’ Gio sounded a little panicked. ‘We’ll do this tomorrow?’
‘If you want.’ Dante nodded, and was reaching for some rather awful earrings when his grandfather finally stated his truth.
‘Mimi is not my housekeeper.’
‘Okay...’ Dante said, picking up the awful earrings.
‘She never was my housekeeper.’
‘Mimi makes you happy?’
‘So happy,’ Gio said. ‘And I make her happy too. After her Eric died she cried for two years, and I understand that. When I lost your nonna I thought my life was over, and then the accident... I never thought I would be truly happy again. But when Mimi sings...’ He wiped his eyes. ‘Sometimes she looks at me and sings and my heart soars again.’
‘If you make each other so happy, why isn’t she here?’
‘Mimi wants to make things official.’
‘I see.’
‘And I have to sort all these first,’ Gio said. ‘Take care of the past that I’ve been neglecting. I don’t want to be sad and lonely. I want to hold Mimi’s hand on my morning walk.’
‘Then do it,’ Dante said, and gave Gio a hug. ‘Make it official.’
Gio mopped his eyes. ‘It’s time to be happy, Dante. To move on from the past.’
‘Yes.’
‘Not just me.’
‘Gio, I have moved on. Don’t worry about me.’ Dante was practical. ‘We’ll get the jewels sorted. I’ll come with you.’
‘I was going to use this central stone for her ring.’ Gio picked up a ruby bracelet. ‘The stone is so beautiful...and rubies are very romantic.’
Dante didn’t care for rubies. He had two in his safe that no one knew about... He pushed that thought aside. ‘Perfect.’
‘I thought so too.’ He was suddenly defeated. ‘However, Susie said no.’
Dante frowned. For a second he wondered if he’d given himself away by reacting to Susie’s name.
‘She said I should get a new stone for Mimi—something I chose myself, that is just for her.’
‘Why?’ Dante asked, and he wasn’t just being his usual unromantic self. It was because he was happier to pursue the conversation when the topic was Susie. ‘You have more jewels than you know what to do with. I am sure Mimi would love this.’
‘I said the same. The ruby is spectacular. But Susie seems to think Mimi would want a new stone.’
‘It wasn’t Nonna’s,’ Dante pointed out, but he saw Gio flinch, and knew it was still a delicate matter for him. ‘It’s a beautiful ruby...it’s been in your family for years.’
‘Yes.’ Gio nodded. ‘That’s what I thought. I was going use the gold from the chain I used to wear when I was younger, but Susie said even the gold should be new.’
‘New?’ Dante frowned. ‘When it’s melted down gold is gold.’
His grandfather gave a low laugh at his wry response. ‘I said the same, but I’d invited her opinion and she suggested I choose something new and special, just for Mimi.’
‘It’s a ring, Gio. I don’t know what Susie’s going on about.’
‘Susie has twin sisters,’ Gio told him, and then added, ‘Identical.’
‘And...?’
‘They’re very close in age—just a little over a year older than Susie is.’
‘And?’ Dante said again, a little perplexed as to what that had to do with anything, but curious. ‘Is one of them a master jeweller?’
‘No.’ Gio laughed, and Dante was pleased to see the sparkle in Gio’s eyes had returned. ‘Susie was always getting things handed down to her. Clothes, toys...’
‘That’s hardly the same as jewellery.’
‘She seems to think so. Apparently, she always felt left out—their birthdays were always grouped together, and their presents were similar. I have to make this just about Mimi.’
‘Mimi’s not a twin, and she doesn’t have any sisters who are twins...’ Dante didn’t get it.
‘No, but she is unique.’
And then Dante got it a little bit more. Susie ached to be the talk of the town, for attention, for the spotlight to shine briefly on her, to stand out rather than fade into the background. And he felt a twisting ache in the black hole that existed where his heart had once been.
‘Yes,’ Dante agreed. ‘She is.’
And he wasn’t really talking about Mimi—he was thinking about Susie, and how he was now determined to make this day a little special.
Susie was ready on time, and when a dark car slid up outside she wondered if perhaps she was meeting Dante there.
She slipped on her coat and was just tying up her scarf when Dante came rushing through the door.
‘Two minutes,’ he said.
‘How was Gio?’
‘Come up,’ he said, stripping off and dashing into the shower. ‘Talking about the jewellery helped.’
‘Good.’
She sat on the edge of the bath, enjoying watching him quickly wash, then frowning when he dashed out and lathered his chin to shave.
‘I thought we were in a rush.’
‘We are.’
‘It can’t be that much of a rush,’ Susie said, ‘if you’ve time to shave.’
‘Call an ambulance if ever I don’t,’ he teased, wiping his jaw and then pulling on a black shirt.
Within a matter of moments he was back to looking like a Vogue model, elegant and polished, and soon they were headed out to the car.
‘It’s not fair,’ she grumbled as they sat inside.
‘What isn’t?’
‘How lovely you look in so little time.’
‘You look lovely, too,’ Dante said, looking at the mascara on her lashes, her glossy lips, her hair freshly brushed and worn down. ‘You’ve really helped with Gio.’
‘What happened?’
‘I’ll tell you when we’re there.’
‘I can’t wait.’
But for now it was nice to simply relax as the car took them out of town and into the gorgeous countryside. Dante showed her fields that in summer were a blaze of yellow, filled with sunflowers. Then the car slowed down as it climbed the hills and they passed a church that was somehow familiar.
Then she knew why. She recognised it from one of the many photos Gio had shown her. It was the church where Sev had married.
She glanced at Dante, who was going through the messages on his phone.
‘Is this it?’ she asked, as a sign for a winery came up, rustic and pretty and very Tuscan. ‘It’s gorgeous.’
‘That’s not it,’ he said, with an edge to his low voice. ‘That’s the De Santis winery.’
‘Oh, I’ve heard it’s good. Well, for cheap wine...’
‘It’s like vinegar,’ he said. ‘Always rushed through. It’s Sev’s wife’s...or rather his late wife’s family winery,’ he explained, and there was still that edge to his voice.
‘Rose?’
‘Rosa,’ he corrected, and it was as though he had to keep his mouth from curling with distaste just saying her name.
Susie knew there was a lot of tension around the wedding.
Looking out at the grey rolling clouds, she tried to remember who had told her what. Mimi had told her on their walks about Sev and Rosa’s wedding in the beautiful little church, and the tragedy of the funeral just a few months later. Gio, too, had shown her photos of his gorgeous family outside the church.
Susie hadn’t known Dante then—but she’d seen his cut and black eye.
‘We’re here,’ Dante said.
Unlike the De Santis winery, Casadio’s wasn’t quaint or rustic. The dark signage was sophisticated, the driveway long, and clearly it was a slick operation.
Dante parked, and as she climbed out Susie saw there was a large shop. Then they walked around the side, and spread before them was a hillside full of vines and a gorgeous outdoor area with tables.
‘Dante.’ A gentleman came out, all smiles, and greeted him effusively.
‘Susie, this is Christos.’ Dante introduced him. ‘Our manager.’
Christos led them up to a gorgeous restaurant that was every bit as luxurious as Pearla’s, yet very relaxed and spread out. He spoke in rapid Italian, but thankfully Dante translated easily.
‘He’s asking if you would like a tour while we talk, or to relax on the couches?’
‘Oh.’ She looked at the huge roaring fire and as she took off her scarf she opted for the couches. ‘The couches sound lovely.’
‘We shouldn’t be too...’ Dante started, but as she slipped off her coat he found out what it meant to be lost for words.
He’d only seen her in her waitressing dress, or naked in his bed, or wrapped in a sheet, and he was momentarily stunned. Her dress was the colour of the sky in spring, and it was somehow demure and sexy as hell all at once.
Or was it sexy because he knew what lay beneath?
Everyone else seemed unperturbed. Christos’s wife was taking her coat, Christos himself was guiding her to the couches. So Dante, refusing to react like some awkward teenager at a party, went over to the bar, turned his back on her and chatted to the bar manager.
He would really rather have joined Susie on the couches, but instead he walked through the cellars with Christos. Then he met with the vigneron and listened to all he had to say. Then Christos suggested they walk through the vines.
Being shown through a place where he had once played hide and seek, where he had run, where he’d once had a happy family, was hell.
He liked Christos—he just did not want to be playing owner today.
Especially when he had the intriguing Susie waiting.
Oh, she was so far from predictable...
She was sitting on a huge leather sofa, gazing out at the view that he saw only in nightmares, with a vague smile on her face.
‘Susie?’ He interrupted her wherever her daydreams had taken her. ‘Do you want to eat?’
‘Yes!’ She didn’t stand, though. ‘I was talking to the chef, and he said we could do a tasting here. They’ll bring all the foods and wine over.’
‘A tasting?’ he checked. ‘They’ll explain all the wines, all the food...’
‘Yes.’
‘Why don’t we just get a table and eat? A tasting is very...’
‘Sociable?’ She laughed.
‘Yes,’ he said, sitting down beside her with a sigh. ‘Okay we’ll do a tasting.’
He signalled to a waiter and told him to go ahead, but when they were alone again he turned to her.
‘Before they start, I’m going to tell you something.’
‘Okay...’
‘No one else knows this...’ He cupped his hand and whispered in her ear. ‘I don’t actually like wine.’
‘Seriously?’
He pulled his head back and nodded. ‘Why do you think I went to study law?’
‘Are you telling the truth?’
‘I can drink it. And at family events and functions here, or events that we sponsor, I do. But...’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I might as well be drinking cheap De Santis wine; it all tastes the same to me.’
‘Does it?’
‘Almost.’ He gave her a smile. ‘De Santis is exceptionally bad. Still, I don’t really get it. It is all Gio talks about—and Christos. Sev knows his stuff too. So do you...’
‘I don’t.’
‘“A Sauvignon will pair nicely...”’ he quoted her, teasing. ‘I’m playing...’ He gave her a smile and looked down at her dress. ‘You look stunning.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You do,’ he told her. ‘I feel like they just opened my case at customs...’
‘I don’t understand what you’re saying...’
‘Unexpected goods inside.’
She started to laugh.
‘Seriously, I am here on a sort of business lunch, and all I want is to make out with you on the sofa...’
‘Better not,’ Susie said. ‘It’ll get straight back to Gio.’
It was fun.
Even if Dante didn’t much like wine.
Possibly because Dante didn’t much like wine!
It made her smile as he listened intently and swirled his drink.
Susie just sipped it.
‘Yum,’ she said about the ‘peppery red with a hint of blackcurrant’, as described by their server. ‘It is peppery.’
‘Yes...’ Dante joined in her little joke. ‘With a hint of blackcurrant.’
And there was more ‘yum’ as she ate thick olives and gorgeous meats and cheeses from this very beautiful land.
‘Wait...’ Dante said, and then he trickled truffled honey over some cheese. ‘Now try it.’
Susie closed her eyes as she tasted it. ‘Oh, my goodness...’ It was incredible. ‘I have to get some to take home.’
It was a lovely, long lunch, and finally they were on the dessert wine, and Christos was explaining to them what they were tasting in great and long detail.
‘I like this one,’ Susie said. ‘I might get some.’
Finally the tasting was over and the social side done, and they both sat back on the couch and smiled at each other.
‘That was actually good,’ Dante said.
‘It was. I might bring my parents here when they visit.’
‘Do,’ Dante said. ‘Speak to Christos when you book.’
‘You can pay for my lunch today,’ Susie said. ‘But not my parents’.’
Susie intrigued him.
As Gio had said, she was delightful. He found her forthright, but at times shy, and very kind.
But there was so much more to her. Little bits of which he had found out today.
He wanted her to tell him more herself.
‘Are you going to tell me about Gio?’ Susie asked, surprised she’d waited so long to ask. They’d been enjoying each other so much...
‘He told me that he was in love with Mimi.’
Susie smiled, utterly thrilled that Gio had finally told his grandson, as well as curious to know how Dante had taken it.
‘How do you feel about it?’
‘Feel?’ He paused with his glass on its way to his lips. ‘Relieved that he’s told me and very pleased that he’s been talking to you. How did you get him to talk?’
‘He was quite...’ She hesitated. ‘I was worried the first night I took a meal over to him.’
‘Was he upset?’
‘No...’ Susie thought back. ‘I think determined better describes his mood then. He didn’t tell me anything then—just said that he had all the numbers he needed in his phone.’
‘My fault.’ Dante rolled his eyes. ‘I gave him a few lessons on how to use it and put a few numbers in...like Pearla’s...’
‘He wasn’t so great the next night,’ Susie told him. ‘He started to talk about his late wife, and how marriage is sacred. He showed me a few photos.’ Susie smiled. ‘I came out and Mimi was waiting for me. I didn’t know who she was, of course.’
It was nice to be able to tell Dante now.
‘She was beside herself, but determined to stand her ground. She asked if I could do a few things for him—without Gio knowing, of course.’
‘How did you sort out the furniture? He told me you moved it yourself.’
‘No!’ Susie laughed. ‘I took him for a walk and while we were out Cucou and Pedro came, with a few of the pastry chefs. They’ve been really looking out for him—discreetly, of course. He’s very loved.’
‘Yes, and he and Cucou go way back. They have been friends for ever.’
‘How do you feel about it?’ Susie asked again, thinking of Mimi’s doom and gloom predictions where Dante was concerned. Although he really didn’t seem bothered. Or perhaps they weren’t close enough to discuss such things as his grandfather’s estate? ‘Do you have any concerns?’
‘I had concerns when I found out he was alone in that vast house,’ Dante said. ‘But I’m pleased for him. God knows, he’s been through it...’
So had Dante, Susie thought, yet he spoke only about Gio’s pain.
‘He says it’s time for him to be happy, to move on from the past, and I want that for him. He didn’t deserve what happened.’
‘Nobody deserves that,’ Susie said, and frowned when Dante didn’t answer. ‘Nobody.’
‘I know,’ Dante responded.
He didn’t sound entirely convinced.
Surely he didn’t blame himself?
He’d never spoken about the accident, though, and she wasn’t sure it was her place to ask, or even how she’d do it, and so, instead of delving, she asked about his brother.
‘Does Sev know about Gio and Mimi?’
‘He’s going to call him today.’
‘You haven’t told him?’
‘No,’ he admitted.
‘Did he have his suspicions too? About them being a couple?’
‘Probably—he’s very sharp.’
‘But the two of you have never discussed it?’
‘We don’t really talk about things like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘We don’t talk about much,’ Dante said. ‘Just how Gio is, and the business side of things.’
And perhaps she oughtn’t delve—they were nibbling little chocolates and drinking dessert wine, and according to the rules they were together for a good time, not a long time—but Susie found she couldn’t quite let things go.
‘Were you ever close?’ she asked.
‘Yeah.’ He nodded, but didn’t elaborate. Instead he asked her a question. ‘Are you close?’ he asked. ‘With your siblings?’
‘I guess...’ Susie started. But, given she wanted to know more about Dante, it felt wrong to hide part of herself, and so she shook her head. ‘We’re not as close as I’d like to be. My sisters are inseparable: they work together, have their own little chat group, and they’ll be living together soon. I found out yesterday that they’re getting a flat together. By accident,’ she added. ‘They haven’t actually told me yet.’
‘So how do you know?’
‘They sent a text that wasn’t meant for me...’ She could feel her heart sink just as it had when she’d received it—just as it did whenever she felt pushed away or excluded. ‘It was quickly deleted, but I’d already seen it.’
‘Damn phones,’ he said, and gave her a gentle smile. ‘I hear it happens all the time—not that that helps.’
‘It actually does help,’ Susie corrected. ‘It’s not like discovering an affair, or anything, but I knew it wasn’t meant for me and it hurt.’ She took a breath. ‘They’re twins...’
‘Gio mentioned that,’ Dante told her. ‘So, you feel left out?’
‘Not just left out. I was never let in.’
She could feel tears stinging her eyes, but hoped she could blame the low afternoon sun streaming through the glass. She was certain she sounded pathetic—especially to someone who had lost so much. Yet he was the first person she’d ever really opened up to...the first person who had insisted she be herself.
‘They’ll tell me when they’re ready.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m pleased for them, really.’
‘Liar.’ He smiled as he called her out. And then he gave her something to think about. ‘Would you want to share a flat with them?’
‘No!’ She gave a half-laugh, but it soon faded. ‘It would be nice to be asked, though.’ She sighed. ‘I must sound very jealous.’
‘Are you?’
‘Of course not.’ She shook her head, possibly a little too quickly. ‘My mother often accuses me of being so, but...’ She decided she didn’t want to be that honest! ‘I do love them. They’re great, honestly. And they’re gorgeous.’
‘So are you.’
‘No, they’re seriously beautiful—they turn heads wherever they go.’
Dante listened to her denial, and even as she lied to his face, still she made him smile. She was so jealous. He could feel it—could see it choking her as she spoke. And he adored her for it. Adored how she tried so hard to speak nicely of people...how she insisted everything was perfectly fine.
‘Why are you smiling?’ Susie asked, a little bemused by his expression.
‘You turn heads.’
‘Stop it,’ she said, feeling his eyes on her mouth and aching to kiss him.
‘I could very easily make you the talk of the town,’ Dante told her, looking at her lips, still glossy with truffled honey. ‘I could kiss you here.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Susie said, not feeling quite so brave at the prospect of people knowing about her fling with Dante.
And it wasn’t because she’d be embarrassed—it was more that she could glimpse Monday, and Tuesday, and all the days afterwards, possibly having to laugh it off to Louanna, or whoever, after he’d gone. The pastry chefs, too, were always delighted to gossip...
She saw it again—that glimpse of having to shrug it off. Pretend it didn’t really matter.
She looked into brown eyes that seemed to be just waiting for them to be alone, and she blushed pink in the face of such blatant desire, feeling warm in her dress, and in the heat of his gaze, and she simply didn’t know how a Sunday could be more perfect...
‘Do you want to go back?’ Dante asked, with a purr of suggestion. ‘Examine those unexpected goods?’
‘I do.’ Susie nodded. ‘But...’
Yes, she did want to go back, and discover herself with him. To do some more of the things she’d missed out on. And yet she knew, or rather guessed, that this place must be agony for Dante. There was a darkness to him here, a pain that felt almost palpable at times. Or perhaps she recognised the loneliness she so often felt. Having no one to really talk to—even if in Dante’s case it was by choice.
‘It’s so nice...sitting here talking. Or aren’t your temporary lovers supposed to say that?’
‘I told you,’ Dante said, ‘you can say whatever you want. You’re not used to that?’
‘Meaning?’
‘You don’t often speak up?’
‘Perhaps...’ Susie admitted. ‘Okay, then.’ She would speak up. ‘I’d like to stay here a bit longer. What time do you fly?’
‘Damn!’ he said, and sat up quickly. And then he saw she was startled. ‘It’s okay, I’m not panicking at the prospect of more conversation. I have to let my pilot know.’ He took out his phone. ‘The helicopter is booked for this evening.’
‘Helicopter?’ She frowned as his call was swiftly dealt with. ‘You surely don’t...?’ She halted. ‘Sorry.’
‘For what? You think I should be avoiding helicopters, given what happened?’
And, while she was all for speaking up, Susie knew this might have crossed the line. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’
‘There’s only one commercial flight a day from Milan to here,’ he said. ‘And I am not chartering a whole plane just for that. As Gio would say, we have to think of the planet!’
‘Doesn’t it scare you?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I flew on a helicopter straight after I heard about the accident. I just wanted to get back to Gio.’
Her hands met his and touched the tip of his fingers. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It was a long time ago,’ Dante said, and then he looked to the window, and the grey, heavy skies that must be so unlike that clear, bright day. ‘I could see the smoke as we flew over...’ He pointed to the hills. ‘Right there—just where the snow caps the middle one. A little way up...’
‘You saw it?’
‘I can still see it,’ he admitted.
‘So you hate coming home?’
‘I do,’ he agreed. ‘Though not so much this time.’
He gave her hand a squeeze, and it was Susie who wanted to pull back.
He’d said it so nicely, yet she couldn’t help but feel like a diversion. A little respite from the pain of his past. But then who could blame him for that? And wasn’t he a little respite for her? A boost to her confidence? Someone she felt brave enough to try new things with, to discover her body with and soothe her wants with his skilful hands?
Yet right now it wasn’t just sex. Only the tips of their fingers were still touching...
Dante had never spoken about it—not really, but Gio had got to him. He’d seen the doubt in his grandfather’s eyes when he’d insisted to him that he’d moved on.
He had.
Surely he had?
Yet aside from practical reasons he’d never told anyone about that day. Oh, he’d listened to Gio endlessly go on, accepted condolences, but he’d never talked about it.
Possibly to prove to himself that he could, he decided to tell Susie.
Susie—whom he’d never see again after this day.
‘My parents were coming to Milan to visit me. They were taking me for lunch...they wanted to talk. To be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to it. I’d just finished university and was starting an internship in Milan.’
‘They wanted you back here in Lucca?’
‘In part. But I think it was more to discuss why Sev and I were not talking. We’d had an argument a few months before that.’
Susie nodded. ‘Gio showed me the wedding photo.’
‘Yeah...’ He gave a resigned half-laugh. ‘I’m not getting into that, but...’
She saw Dante reach for the wine he didn’t much like and take a sip, then put down his glass.
Then she felt his fingers come back to her own. And even if neither was really one for holding hands, possibly they were on ice-cream nights...as well as on days when they discussed their worst moments.
‘Rosa had a specialist doctor appointment in Milan—that’s why she was with them. She wasn’t coming to lunch...’
There was an edge to his voice when he spoke about Rosa, but Susie said nothing, just listened when he gave his sad conclusion.
‘They crashed just after take-off.’
‘How did you find out?’ she asked, imagining him waiting in a restaurant. ‘Did you guess something was wrong when they didn’t show?’
‘No, I got a call from Christos. He said I had to get back here. They didn’t know how bad it was, but I think he knew...’
His hand felt like ice—so much so that she wanted to hold it tighter, to warm it, but she dared not move, scared that he’d pull his hand back or stop talking.
‘We all came here, waiting for news. Gio’s reaction was dreadful. He collapsed, and seemed to know straight away there was no chance they’d survived. Sev was in the Middle East... The guy had to fly back not knowing if anyone had. I told him there was still hope...’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I’d seen the wreckage, the fire, but I really thought there might be a chance they’d got out. They hadn’t, of course.’
‘How do you...?’ She swallowed. ‘Sorry, stupid question.’
‘How do you cope with something like that?’ He asked the stupid question for her. ‘Gio took to his bed—perhaps for a year. Sev went back to work a week after the funerals. I don’t think he’s stopped working since.’
‘And you?’
‘I was practical—calling people, sorting the funerals, seeing the lawyers, going through the wills...’ He gave a dark smile. ‘That said, I was up before dawn every day, scouring the accident site.’
‘Looking for what?’
‘Something.’ He took a breath. ‘Anything.’
‘Did you find anything?’
‘Not really. In the end I hired a specialist company—they had tools to comb the hillside. They salvaged a couple of small things.’ He raised his eyebrows, as if surprised that he’d said that. ‘I’ve never told Gio or Sev that anything was found.’
‘Can I ask why not?’
He shook his head and it was left at that.
The gorgeous, lazy afternoon had turned sombre, at least for Susie. Dante, though, was talking normally to Christos as she put on her coat. Then she realised that this must be his normal—that he lived daily with all the sadness she’d felt hearing his story. No wonder he couldn’t bear to come home...
‘For you,’ Christos said, handing her a beautiful basket of all the wines and cheeses she’d especially liked, and some truffled honey too.
‘How gorgeous!’
‘Susie’s bringing her parents here in a few weeks,’ Dante said as they left—only Susie wasn’t so sure now, wondering how it might feel to be here without Dante.
It was a forty-minute drive back through the hillsides, and Dante looked out of the window this time—at the De Santis winery as they passed, and the church where Sev and Rosa had married...where Rosa now lay.
She heard the whir of a window closing and saw the divider between them and the driver was now shut. Dante’s hand came to her hair. She turned fully around and was met by desire.
She guessed this was Dante’s preferred method of escape.
It was her preferred method now, too.
Because all the horrors that had been discussed seemed to fade, his tongue chasing them away, his kiss raw with passion, his hands tight around her waist.
There was no more talking, because it hurt too much, and it was so nice to be kissed in the back of a car, to feel his hands slip between her thighs.
‘Those tights are an issue,’ he told her, his hand creeping up her inner thigh.
‘Dante...’ She looked towards the closed partition.
‘We’re just kissing,’ he told her.
But she knew he lied—because even if that was all their shadows appeared to be doing, she could feel his hand moving further up her thigh, then the firm massage of his palm through her tights...
She wished they were gone too. But they remained. And he cupped her warmth and stroked her, and then he left her mouth. His head was heavy against her as he kissed her neck and the stroking of his fingers did not stop.
‘Come on...’ he urged her—as if it was necessary...as if her pleasure was completely required.
His mouth was high on her shoulder—or was it the base of her neck? But it was wet, and thorough, and she felt a low spread of warmth. His mouth returned to her lips, as if he knew before she did what was happening, and then his lips were over hers, but not moving, swallowing her gasps as her bottom lifted a touch and her thighs closed tight around his hand.
‘Nice...’
She wanted to close her eyes, to rest her head back, to catch her breath. So she did.
And it was Dante who pulled down the hem of her dress, so they were only holding hands as the car swept into his driveway, and Susie had never felt happier, or bolder, or more desperate to get inside.
‘Grazie,’ Dante said as the car door opened.
She forgot the basket of goodies, but he remembered and carried it up the steps, then opened up the door.
They stepped into his home and she shrugged off her coat. She caught the smoky scent of fire, and wondered if it was from her, but then she glanced into the lounge.
‘Someone’s been in.’
‘The housekeeper.’ Dante clearly did not want diversions.
‘Is she in here?’ Susie asked, walking into the room.
‘Of course not,’ he told her.
And Susie was about to turn, more than ready to be taken straight to bed, but then his hands came down to her waist and slid up to her breasts. She felt the press of him behind her and relished the roam of his hands and how he wasn’t shamed by his desire.
He turned her, and she wanted to be stripped, wanted her clothes to disappear. She knew he felt the same because his jumper was off, so she kissed his chest, the flat nipples, and she wanted to sink lower, but fought the desire as she’d never done that before.
And yet her hands slipped down as they got back to kissing and she felt him through fabric, felt how he hardened beneath her palm, and her fingers ached for more contact.
She attempted to undo his belt as they kissed, but thankfully he dealt with that, and then she was holding him, stroking him, feeling the velvet skin on her palm. She looked down and was fascinated, and the desire to sink down and taste him refused to relent.
Her mouth moved as if of its own accord and she followed the trail her lips made, closing her eyes as they bypassed his chest. Her mouth strayed lower and kissed his stomach, tasted his salty skin.
He was too tall for comfort, and for a moment she kissed his thighs. And perhaps he saw her struggle, because he guided her so she sat on a couch. Susie had no idea of its colour. Apart from the gorgeous fire, she hadn’t really taken in her surroundings. It was ridiculously comfortable, though, and the cushions soft on her bottom. She relished her unhurried exploration, holding him and dropping little kisses along his length, and then suddenly she became aware she was fully dressed.
‘Should I take off my clothes?’ she asked, and looked up to see his frown. ‘I’ve never done this.’
‘Do you want to?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘Why do you think you have to get undressed?’
‘To turn you on?’
‘That’s not an issue,’ Dante said, and his hand closed over her own.
Together they stroked his thick length, and then back to her came the deep pull of desire, and there was no reason to resist it.
‘I love that you’ve never done this,’ he said in a gravelly voice.
But perhaps her tentative mouth knew what to do, because when she took him in, he made a breathless sound that she knew from when they were in bed.
She tasted him, and his hands guided her as she took her time, taking him in, then a little deeper...
Dante had more control than most.
Not to impress his lovers—more because he held back, even in bed.
Sex was usually necessary and frequent.
In contrast, this was ponderous and tender.
There was an internal fight building in him. At first he thought it was frustration, at her untutored mouth taking him too gently, or her hand gripping too lightly. But then he realised the fight was with himself. The temptation he was fighting wasn’t to place his hand over hers and show her how to move more roughly, nor to move her head lower and tell her she would not hurt him.
No, it was none of that.
He was fighting not to stroke her hair, not to smooth it back so he could see her, not to touch her cheek.
And so he told her how good she felt, how good he felt.
But he held back on telling her of the light and the joy she had brought to him.
‘Non ti fermare!’ he told her. ‘I want to see you,’ he added, smoothing her hair back, seeing the reddened cheeks that had been so pale before.
She was lost. But she was no longer shy or unsure, just loving the taste of him, and the feel of his hands smoothing back her hair, over and over, then cupping her cheeks tenderly.
And his thrusts didn’t daunt her. She was hot between her legs, her breasts heavy beneath her dress. She was aching below and deeply turned on.
There was a slight flurry of panic as she felt him swell, and rush, and then it was the sexiest moment... Because she heard him shout, as if his own climax had caught him unawares, and she tasted him, on the edge of her own orgasm as she lifted her head.
His eyes were closed, but he pulled her up to join him, both standing breathless, their only regret that there was no bed to sink into.
‘Come on,’ he said.
His bed was made and it was bliss to be stripped before she got into it. He even took her boots off.
‘What’s this?’ he asked of her silver underwear.
‘I bought it today.’
They lay together and she adored just lying there, talking, half asleep and yet awake.
‘You were in a relationship for...?’ he asked.
‘Two years.’
‘And yet...’ He let out a reluctant laugh. ‘I don’t want to think about it, but...’ he was clearly curious ‘...you’ve never...?’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I told you: we were very boring in that way.’
‘That’s not boring. That’s...’ He thought for a moment. ‘Sad.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘I tried to liven things up, but...’ She sighed. ‘I don’t think he was that interested in me.’
‘Yet you stayed?’
‘No, I ended things...’ She looked up. ‘He’s the only person I’ve slept with.’
‘Okay...’ He was obviously thinking. ‘So, what drew you to a man with no passion?’
‘It wasn’t that bad,’ she said, and laughed. But it soon changed. ‘It wasn’t that good. I just didn’t know it. We’re good, aren’t we?’ she said.
‘Yes.’
His hand stroked her arm and her hair, and then moved back to her arm. ‘I’m going to return the favour,’ he told her.
‘Please, no...’ She cringed at the very thought. ‘I could never...’
Then she paused, because until a short while ago she’d never thought she could want to take someone in her mouth. She thought for a moment, but then shook her head.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think I’d like that.’
What she really liked was this: lying half awake, half asleep...sharing confidences...as if some kind of truth serum had been slipped into them while they slept.