A Dark Beginning: A China Dark Novel (17 page)

The hotel was gorgeous, perched up on the top of a cliff overlooking the Amalfi coast. Their balcony had the most glorious views and a gentle waft of lemons and heady blossom washed in from the trees scattered on the hillside around them. She could see for miles along the coast, pretty little multi-colour villages tumbling haphazardly down to the azure sea, rich green wooded hills and grey cliffs, racing to the lapping waves. Looking down she could see the al fresco hotel restaurant below, and a scattering of other guests’ balconies. The heat was just perfect and a breeze played with her hair as the sun toasted her back. She had to admit that Philip had judged this perfectly. She let out a long breath that she felt she had been holding in for months, releasing a wave of private tension. A week here is just what she needed. She had hardly thought about Mark at all since arriving. As she stood there admiring the magical Italian coastline, there was just a slight moment of sadness, more at her betrayal of her marriage vows than from actually missing her young lover. Although the sex had been so very good, she thought naughtily, and a smile crept across her face.

Philip called out from the bedroom behind her. “I’m famished. Shall we go down to dinner?”

She wasn’t hungry at all and was rather hoping that Philip might prefer some other form of satisfaction first, but as this whole break was his idea she wouldn’t begrudge his stomach first priority call.

“Ok then, just let me change first.”

“No need,” he said snuggling up behind her. “You look beautiful.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck, bringing her some hope that maybe her carnal needs might just trump his stomach’s. She was wearing a flighty long dress of light linen that let the breeze through in deliciously cooling licks, and wrapped itself closely around her curves in a way she couldn’t help being rather pleased with. Whoever said, if you’ve got it flaunt it, China was beginning to realize that they were right. What was the point of having a few curves if no one was able to admire them. Maybe she wouldn’t change. They were on holiday.

The dining room of the hotel was a classy affair. Understated, clean, white linen everywhere and lacy material draperies fluttering gently at the open doorways to the terrace.

“Let’s sit outside,” she pleaded.

“Of course. Whatever you want.” He kissed her again and they walked out onto the restaurant patio holding hands. The sun had baked this area even more than their room’s balcony so the heat was initially striking, hitting them in the face and making them wince, but as they selected a table under a vast blue umbrella near the railings, the breeze once again caught up with them and made the whole atmosphere delightfully bearable. The menu was perfect, a selection of pastas and sauces, China’s favourite kind of food, and a good selection of meat and fish dishes for those preferring to keep away from the carbohydrates. China selected a simple Carbonara that she suspected would be different to any she’d tasted back in England, while Philip went for pork medallions in a light, white wine sauce. Philip then dutifully took over the wine selection and they ended up with a crisp white Pinot Grigio that suited the food so well.

That first afternoon was like a beautiful dream for China. Everything was so right, exactly how she imagined the perfect Italian holiday would be, great food and wine, sun and breeze, views to die for and making slow, tender love on crisp, clean sheets in the shade of their room. They didn’t go downstairs for dinner that evening as they had dozed off after their lovemaking, both drifting in and out of consciousness as the sun dipped below the horizon in an impressive farewell serenade of reds and umbers. They only really woke up late in the evening in order to pull the covers up over their bodies and then settle into a blissful spooning cuddle. The stars sparkled over the Mediterranean in competition with the scattered villages lit up along the coast, as they fell asleep again in love’s embrace.

Because they had fallen asleep so early the night before, they both woke up just before the sun came up. There was an almost instant transition from the dark blues of pre-dawn to glorious sunshine and azure blues and they were both up and dressed and sitting on the balcony reading the room service offerings before anyone else could be heard moving about.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Philip said. “Before breakfast.”

China’s appetite was already hankering after breakfast but she couldn’t deny that a walk down to the secluded beach below was a great idea, especially before everyone else was about.

Despite the swift Mediterranean dawn, the sun was still relatively low in the sky, casting sharp shadows across the winding, steep path that led down through the lemon groves and rainbow buildings. They walked hand in hand, and relished the heat as each time they were washed with sunlight, and also the delicious chills that made them shiver delightfully in each shadowy corner.

The pebbled bay was scattered with bright blue and red fishing boats, most not much larger than rowing boats, but distinguishable from pleasure craft by the piles of equipment that stuffed each with rusty metalwork, green and orange nets, and large and rather ancient looking lobster pots. There were only a couple of men working on their boats, all readying either craft or equipment for a morning foray out to sea for the early catch.

This morning China was wearing Burberry skinny jeans and a simple white blouse. Her curves felt good pressing against the clothes in the light morning breeze, and she couldn’t help noticing that the fishermen kept looking her way. There was nothing subtle about it, if they had been any more blatant they would have been staring. In fact some were staring. Whereas this would have bothered China at one time in her past, a time when she would have been insecure about men looking at her less than perfect body, a time when she might have thought that they were critiquing her, looking for and commenting on her faults, now she loved the  idea that her full figure was the object of so much attention. She squeezed Philip’s hand tightly as they stood in silence, listening to the seabirds caw and the hush of waves playing with pebbles. The air was scented with fresh fish and saltwater, and her skin was warming nicely as the sun gained in strength.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” Philip suddenly said, making China grin broadly.

“Of course I do. And I love you too.”

They kissed, and through half open eyes China saw that the fishermen were no longer interested in them, busying themselves with their preparations.

Breaking off from their kiss Philip looked deep into China’s eyes. He was such a handsome man, she reminded herself, studying every inch of his clean shaven face. If he had been a little taller she had no doubt he could have been a model. She felt lucky to have him. He may be a bit childish at times, with a smattering of arrogance, but he was essentially kind and caring, and a great husband. Hard working, thoughtful most of the time, and really, really good looking.

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, China Dark.”

“I know that,” China said, searching his face for the true meaning of those words. She wasn’t sure why he had said it at that point, but men weren’t always easy to understand, so she suspected he was apologizing in some roundabout way for some transgression he had just remembered and she couldn’t guess. She kissed him again.

They stood admiring the view for about half an hour and the little bay became busier with locals. The men all showed interest in China, some merely glancing shyly at her from under their dark fringes, some, mostly the older ones, blatantly staring at her. She didn’t mind one bit. She had never felt more comfortable in her own body than she did right now. She knew that she was an attractive woman, she had the man she loved beside her, and she was in the prettiest cinque port on the Italian coast that she could possibly wish for.

For their first evening in the bar, China deliberated carefully over what to wear. There were no more ‘just throw on the first things that come to hand’ moments in China’s life. She was making the most of these years, her body, her femininity and, yes, now her sexuality. Pulling on a silky little white thong that was uncomfortable to wear but made her feel super sexy, she then selected a mid length Karen Millen dress with a subtle black and silver tribal pattern that appeared to be woven out of scales, but which hugged her body closely. She was happy to see, when checking in the mirror, that the lack of a bra did not detract from the look, everything holding up just nicely. Turning sideways she checked out her profile. Her bum was generous but not saggy, there was the slightest curve to her belly which she was now very comfortable with, and her breasts were large and still firm.

“Very nice,” said Philip from the bathroom doorway, making her jump. “You look amazing. And no bra,” he added, walking over to her with a glint in his eyes.

“Not now, bad boy. I’m hungry.”

“So am I,” he said as his hands found her body. She had to admit that she was tempted but, laughing, she pushed his hands away.

“Come on, let’s get some dinner first. Maybe later, if you’re good.” She already knew that he didn’t actually have to be good. In fact it might be nice if he wasn’t good at all, but rather bad. She had needs too. But right now her stomach’s needs came first. She had her eye on another pasta dish she had seen on the menu yesterday. She couldn’t remember the name of it but she remembered some of the ingredients, clams, lemon, chilli and garlic.

The dining room was buzzing nicely when they arrived, with several couples already enjoying the wine and candlelight. They were shown to their table by a portly, moustached waiter with typical Italian flourish. When the food and wine arrived it was delicious again, and the conversation between them flowed easily from one nonsense subject to the next. It was nice to be talking about unimportant stuff, China thought. Nothing heavy, just light, easy subjects that made them both happy.

Before dessert a loud roar from the car park announced the arrival of an Italian sports car that had all the men in the room looking up. The exhaust note barked as the engine was switched off.

“Jesus,” Philip said, totally in awe as he spied the car through the large window. “A Venevo.”

“A what?”

“A Lamborghini Venevo. That’s a multi million pound car.” Philip knew which aspect of this car would appeal to China. At the mention of its cost she was intrigued. Who could afford a car like that? The car looked like something out of a batman film. Its matte black paint job didn’t seem to reflect any light and starkly contrasted with the huge red brakes easily visible through the futuristic spoke wheels.

“It looks like some alien penis,” she said, knowing that would annoy Philip.

“It’s one of the fastest cars ever built, and one of the rarest. I never thought I’d see one in real life. I want one of those.”

“I bet the man who drives it is also a penis,” China continued to tease, a playful smile on her face.

When the man got out of the car, rather elegantly China had to admit considering the contortions needed to exit the long low vehicle, she saw that while he may well have been a dick, he was a rather good looking one.

“I want one of those too,” China said under her breath. Philip didn’t hear as he was too busy drooling over the car. Looking around, China could see that this arrival had caught everyone’s attention. All the men were looking at the car and wishing they were the one driving it, and all the women were studying the tall man and wishing they were driving that. China shook her head in mock disgust. Boys and their toys, she thought, conveniently ignoring the fact that she was no better in her desires.

The man came into the bar, and while many of the patrons turned back to their meals, feigning disinterest or not want to give the man the pleasure of being centre of attention, some were unable to stop gawking. He was an impressive sight. He was tall, well over six feet, slim, dark olive skin and slick black, perfectly cut hair with a fringe that flopped sideways across half his forehead to part cover one eye. He was craggily handsome, like an Italian model from a perfume advert. His clothes, as would be expected from someone who drove a multi-million pound car, were elegant and expensive, and a huge watch dangled heavily from one wrist.

Philip took a sharp intake of breath. “A Patek Phillipe. A Sky Moon Tourbillon.” His voice was barely a whisper, it was obvious he was helplessly lost in admiration.

She knew how much Philip loved watches, and he was therefore a bit of an expert, so she also knew that this seemingly random collection of syllables must be referring to something rather special.

“So how much would one of those be?”

“I have no idea, but more than I make in a few years I suspect.”

The man wandered over to the bar, ignoring all the looks cast his way, and ordered a drink from the waiter. China wondered if he was a resident or a local. When his drink arrived he turned to face the eating area and his eyes confidently toured the restaurant, totally undaunted by the looks he was receiving. Most of the patrons instantly looked away when his confident eyes met theirs. When the new arrival looked their way, Philip looked down at his plate cowed into submission by sheer alpha-maleness, but China met his gaze with defiance, and she drew her shoulders back, posing for him at the same time as reaching out for Philip’s hand across the table. ‘You want to be looked at otherwise you wouldn’t have made such an entrance, or dressed so ostentatiously’, she thought. ‘You may be rich and handsome, but look at what you haven’t got.’