Falling for Italy (8 page)

“They liked you,” he remarked, as he drove back to her flat through the thick gray fog, which covered the city.

“I had a good time too. They didn’t pry, though I know they must have been tempted.”

“Pry about what?”

“About us.”

“Why would they do that? It’s nobody’s business,” he said, turning his head to look at her.

“Yes, but still… Your sister seems very protective of you. I thought she would resent me, but I guess she has no reason to do that.”

She didn’t add
because you’ll leave in a couple of weeks anyway and I won’t be important then
. If he thought about that too, he gave absolutely no indication of it. She tried to push away the blue mood, and then remembered his statement about every male falling in love with her. Did that include him? God, she couldn’t dare hope. She couldn’t think about it or she’d go mad. She didn’t even know if she wanted him to fall in love with her. Then what?

The conflicted feelings battling in her heart kept her quiet. As though he felt something was on her mind, Giovanni stayed silent too, driving carefully on the well-lighted streets. When they reached her flat’s building, he cut the engine and gazed at her.

“Do you want me to go, or do you want me to stay?”

His directness took her off guard.

“Um… Whatever you want is fine.”

“What do
you
want, Sonia?” he demanded, watching her intensely. “Is it so hard to say it?”

She swallowed, then let out a long breath.

“No, it’s not. I want you to stay.”

A satisfied expression lit his face a fraction of a second. He got out of the car and opened her door. They took the stairs up to her flat. She barely noticed the inky darkness surrounding them.

“Oh, my, the light is out,” she whispered, feeling her way up. She took out her cell phone from her bag and used it as a torch as she unlocked her flat door.

Inside was warm—a sign that the power hadn’t been out long.

“I hope this outage doesn’t last long, or we’ll freeze to death in a few hours,” she said, taking off her coat and throwing it in the sofa’s direction. Thanks to her glass wall, there was enough light to see the room, dimly.

“Don’t worry,
cara
. I won’t let you freeze,” he whispered roughly in her ear. Before she could say anything, he pressed her to the nearest wall, kissing her possessively as his own jacket slid to the floor. She dug her fingers into his broad solid chest, kissing him back with the passion that never ceased to explode in her whenever he touched her. He could turn her on just by looking at her in that particular way, which made her feel he could undress her using only his eyes.

He embraced her ardently, kissing her mouth, the lobes of her ears, her neck. His hands explored her body knowingly, coaxing from her responses she hadn’t even dreamed existed. When he slid his hands under her sweater, she moaned deliriously, tugging his shirt over his head. She barely had time to caress his naked chest before he discarded their clothes quickly, still keeping her glued to the wall with his body. His breathing had accelerated, as did hers when they were pressed together, naked skin on naked skin, hot and steaming from wanting each other. He lifted her hips and she encircled his waist with her legs, holding on as she felt him thrust deep inside her, driving them hard and fast to a climax so intense she could swear she saw stars exploding in her spinning mind.

He shivered in her arms with the pleasure of fulfillment, face buried in her shoulder, heart drumming in the same rhythm as hers. When they slid together to the floor, still holding each other tight, she noticed the lights were on.

“How…the hell…didn’t I see the lights turn on?” she said through gasps, talking more to herself than to him. She was amazed by the way he possessed her so completely her exterior sense of observation had failed her to the point she didn’t see or feel anything outside her own body. And his. She was always aware of him, not only of his body, but also she thought she could at least intuit what he felt or thought.

Judging by his incoherent reply muffled in her neck as he sat on the floor, supporting her on his muscled thighs, his splendid body gleaming with sweat, she thought it was a safe guess to say he was as drowsily happy and satisfied as she. She suddenly began laughing softly.

When he raised his head to look at her, puzzled, she said, “It just occurred to me you never got to see the bedroom.”

Chapter Six

The light awoke him, probably along with the instinct of waking up at dawn, which he’d developed in years. He opened his eyes lazily and found himself lying on his stomach, staring at Sonia. She was still sleeping, her long lashes throwing dark shadows over her flawless skin. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and her full lips spread into a hint of a smile. She was incredibly beautiful as she slept peacefully next to him.

He very rarely had awakened next to a woman or spent the entire night with one. Only a few hours of mutual satisfaction. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave Sonia last night. He hadn’t wanted and she hadn’t asked. So he’d stayed, and they’d spent the night in sweet exploration of each other, until they’d fallen asleep entangled under her thick bedcover.

He watched the traces of fatigue under her eyes and felt a shadow of guilt. Suddenly, he thought he would like to wake up next to her every single day of his life. The notion brought him wide-awake. Where did it come from? he wondered. This hadn’t happened to him before. Oddly enough, he didn’t panic at this idea. On the contrary, it was a new and wonderful feeling he wanted to enjoy and explore. But what about Sonia? Would she feel inclined to wake up next to him forever? She’d told him the monotony of marriage or a long-term relationship scared her. Uneasiness tainted his mood as he considered the fact she might not share his feelings, that she might only be interested in sex. It all started with sex, but for him it went much deeper now, even though it had only been a few days. He knew what he wanted. But what about her?

Just then, her eyes fluttered open slowly, staring into his face, clouded with sleep. She seemed to become aware of his presence gradually, and when she did, she smiled tenderly. The sweetness of her smile made his heart contract with something he suspected could bloom into love—if he allowed it. He stretched out a hand and caressed her soft, warm cheek.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” she replied drowsily. “It’s weird waking up to find a gorgeous man in my bed.”

“Do you like it?” he asked with feigned indifference, pulling her toward him.

“Mmmm, I love it.”

Her reply made his heart beat just a little faster, as she nestled against his chest, entwining her naked body around his. His body reacted promptly to her nearness, as it did every time. She yawned and stretched, and a faint blush rose into her cheeks when she felt him hard, pressing against her.
Dio mio
. She was so innocent still, so sweet under the blasé exterior she tried to display. He kissed her, softly at first, then more urgently, running his hands all over the splendid length of her nakedness. When she was under him, she slid the velvety soles of her feet over the backs of his calves, then higher, until her legs surrounded his waist. There was something so sexy about that gesture that it drove him crazy. He eased himself into her, but stopped immediately when he felt her tense and saw her biting her lip in an attempt to hide a wince.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, searching her face inquisitively.

“Nothing,” she said, looking away. “It’s just that…I’ve been out of practice for a while. I’ve never… I mean…”

She looked embarrassed as she avoided his eyes, and he understood at once.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You should’ve told me,” he said apologetically and tried to detach himself from her, but her legs tightened around him. He groaned, seized by a wave of tremendous pleasure, in spite of the fact that he loathed hurting her.

“Sonia,” he whispered roughly, “baby, you need to let go.”

“Don’t stop.” She pulled him deeper. He could feel her desire—not to mention his own—but he couldn’t stand the thought of provoking her even mild pain.

“No, we can’t.”

“Giovanni, don’t stop, please,” she whispered against his ear and flicked her tongue down his neck.

At that point, he didn’t think he could have stopped. He let his body move, matching hers, madly excited by her every moan, every gasp, watching her intently as her breaths grew shallow, her grasp on him tighter. He clenched his teeth, fighting to hold back the pleasure that consumed him, to wait just a moment longer. He wanted to please her like no man had, to be her best and only lover. Their eyes were still locked, almost opaque with desire, when he felt her breath quickening, her body tensing even harder as she reached the peak of her pleasure. Only then, with a supreme sigh of satisfaction, he allowed himself to let go and be carried along her on the wings of rapture.

They lay together, holding tight to each other, waiting for their hearts to settle. He rolled onto his back taking her with him, so she was sprawled onto his chest, still hugging him close. He stroked her back, damp with sweat, then dragged the blanket over them.

“You should’ve told me you were sore, Sonia. I’m sorry. Are you okay?” he asked her, overwhelmed by guilt.

She lifted her head and smiled.

“Of course I’m okay. You don’t have to apologize. I told you, I was out of practice. Technically, there have been two others a long while back, but you…You are just… Wow!”

She had lowered her gaze, burying her face in his chest, and muffling her voice. Then she angled her head back to look at him.

“I’ve never had a lover like you, Giovanni. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve
ever
had a lover in the real sense of the word until I met you. You’re…incredible,” she went on, after trying to find the right words. “And I don’t mean you’re amazing only in bed—you probably heard that from hundreds of women. You’re simply an incredible man,” she concluded, resting her cheek on his shoulder once more.

He was so touched by her words and knowing she meant them that he didn’t say anything for a while. He gathered her close, as his thoughts tangled in his mind, without any of them taking shape. When one finally did, he hesitated a bit before saying it aloud.

“Sonia,” he began, and then swallowed. “I think I—”

The alarm clock started buzzing, making them jump. Sonia stretched out a hand to stop it, exclaiming, “God, it’s seven already!”

She turned to him.

“What were you saying?”

He rubbed a hand down his face, barely registering it was rough and prickly with stubble. Damn it, he had to do this properly, when his mind was clear.

“Um, I wanted to say I’ll take a quick shower and get going, so you can go to work,” he told her. “What time can we hit that gym? I really need a good workout.

* * * *

Sonia massaged her lower back. Her entire body was a bit achy—no wonder, after the nights she’d had lately. The thought of a workout wasn’t at all appealing. She had even thought about calling Giovanni to tell him they should cancel their going to the gym, but then she thought it wouldn’t be necessary to ruin his plans. He’d said he was really looking forward to working out—God knew where he got all that energy—so she could let him exercise while she enjoyed the view.

Her girls were almost finishing their training. In two days, on December
tenth, they were all due to leave for Manchester, for the national championship. Everybody was a bit nervous, but mostly they were excited.

The radio played over the big range, and Santana’s Maria Maria was putting her in a dance mood.

“Okay, Adele,” she said, addressing one of the girls, the last one to finish shooting. “That’s enough. Let’s pack it up for the day,” she told them and started humming under her breath in the rhythm of the music as she supervised her team.

Adele—a well-rounded sixteen-year-old with more piercings than Sonia could count and wearing a pair of jeans that seemed ready to rip every time she moved—began bobbing her head, listening to the song.

“Who’s this, Miss Galsworthy?” she asked Sonia, as she bent down to lace her shoes, her boobs nearly falling out of her skimpy T-shirt.

“It’s Santana. Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” the girl replied, looking for confirmation at her friends, similarly attired. “Never heard of this Santana dude, but he rocks!”

“It’s really cool, Miss Galsworthy,” confirmed Tara, one of the other girls—a bleached blonde with blue eyes, heavily lined with black and purple. “That guy with the guitar kinda ruins it though.”

Half an hour later, Sonia and Giovanni were still laughing, while passersby stared at them disapprovingly as they walked to the gym, scooping hands full of snow and throwing snowballs at one another. They’d met at her flat at six o’clock and decided to walk the distance of two blocks or so to the gym. When his laughter subsided somewhat, Giovanni said, “God, kids today are a mess! She really had no idea Santana is one of the most famous guitarists in the world?”

Sonia grinned, brushing off snow from her sleeves.

“Nope. She was very shocked and embarrassed when I told her. I suppose it would’ve been more tactful to ignore her and keep my mouth shut, but I’m trying to educate them with every opportunity. I think it’s in their own interest.”

They walked hand in hand, dressed casually in jeans, boots and thick jackets. He carried both of their gym bags, having insisted to carry Sonia’s too, a gesture she found strangely gallant. She’d never met a man who would offer—no,
demand
—to carry something for her.

The snow had started falling again, giving the night a lazy, dreamy air. The fog was thickening over the city, making lights, buildings and people appear blurry. When they reached the building where the gym was located, they shook the snow off their jackets and boots before entering. The place was deserted, or so it seemed.

Sonia took the key out of her pocket and unlocked the door, then stepped inside and turned on the lights. It was a small gym, but equipped well enough to keep any willing athlete in shape. Along one wall there were a few rest benches, and the workout machines were scattered around the room. Another wall was covered with mirrors, and facing it was a set of large windows revealing a beautiful view. On the right, a door led to two small locker rooms.

“Go and change there,” she told him, indicating the sideway door. “I’m going to set the thermostat to a higher temperature and put on some music.”

As Giovanni headed off, she set the temperature and turned on the radio, finding a local station she liked. Pop music began pumping from the top quality speakers.

Giovanni reappeared wearing black shorts, a black tank top and sneakers. He looked around, as though trying to decide with what to start after a short warm up.

Sonia grabbed her own bag and went into the locker room. She undressed quickly, shivering, since it was still cold in the small room. The heater will start doing its job soon enough
,
she thought, shimmying into a pair of dark blue sweat pants, a worn black tank top and black Nikes.

When she returned to the workout area, she found Giovanni stretched out on a bench, working with weights, while Michael Sembello’s
Maniac
boomed from the speakers. She stood for a long moment in the doorway watching him, as her heart rate escalated and her body began a slow process of melting from the inside at this breath-stopping view.

His every muscle was tense and contracted as he lifted and lowered the weights rhythmically, his biceps curving with the effort. His chest was already gleaming with sweat, making his rounded pectorals appear even better defined. Her gaze lowered to his long muscled thighs and calves, sprinkled with just the right amount of hair. The shorts fit him perfectly, as did the tank top, more outlining than covering the key parts of his body. Hell, she adored every delicious inch of him.

Her chest rose and fell in the rhythm of a runner, as though she’d already begun her workout. Just looking at him was a powerful calorie-burning process, and a lot more pleasant than physical effort.

She nearly jumped when he said, “Are you going to stand there all evening, princess?”

She swallowed, shaking her head to clear her muzzy brain.

“No, I was just…warming up.”

And how true was that, she wondered giddily while she moved near the heater and started doing some stretches. She was more than warm, she was hot, burning for him as she’d never imagined it was possible. The man had turned her from a practical, matter-of-fact woman, into a sex addict. For she was indeed addicted to him—no question about that—and not only in a sexual way.

They exercised without much conversation, letting the music fill the silence. After some time on the treadmill, she went to the bench and crashed, exhausted. With her eyes on Giovanni, she hadn’t even timed how long she’d ran, but her drumming heartbeats told her she had exaggerated.

He’d just finished working on his abdomen—not that it needed any improvement—and came toward her. As she laid prostrated on the bench, she looked up and saw him smiling down at her.

“Are you okay? I forgot my towel,” he said, dragging his tank top over his head to wipe his glistening face.

Sonia’s mouth went dry and her lips parted in a silent
Oh my
, as she let her gaze wander over his smooth, naked torso. He looked like a living sculpture of the most accomplished artist. Each muscle was beautifully shaped and toned, each line splendidly defined, forming a perfectly proportioned ensemble.