The Sicilian's Proposition (7 page)

“Come, I will take you back to the hotel as it’s been a long day. Tomorrow I want you ready nice and early. I am going to take you out on my boat.”

She swallowed. He was telling her what he wanted to do and in a way she liked that. She frowned.
Would Byrne accompany them?

As if he could read her mind, he said, “Don’t worry. I don’t need the photographer around tomorrow. I am going to send him off on a trip to Palermo at my expense. It should keep him quiet.”

She laughed. “Good.”

“Besides, I want you all to myself. One other thing. Don’t forget to bring your bikini if you have one.”

She shivered involuntary. Yes, she did have a bikini, but the thought of him seeing her wearing it was a bit disconcerting. Especially after all the Italian, bronzed beauties he must have encountered. How could she match up to any of those?

“Yes, I’ll bring it along,” she found herself answering. There was no getting out of it now even if she wanted to, and deep down inside, she knew she didn’t want to. She wanted to spend all day tomorrow with Dante Alphonso.

***

The following morning she was waiting at reception with her beach bag packed with all the necessary equipment—suntan lotion, towel, bikini, and a novel if she had time to read. She wore her new red and white sundress, shades, and had also brought along her straw hat and wrap in case it got cold. She looked at her watch, it was eight forty-five, and he’d promised to collect her at eight thirty.

Byrne passed her on his way out, strutting with his hands in his trouser pockets, on his way to Palermo she assumed after what Dante had told her. He stopped when he got parallel with her.

He sneered. “Stood you up, has he darling?” She just ignored him, turned her back, and heard his footsteps disappear outside the door.

Ten minutes later, she began chewing her lip, heart racing, her body a mass of nerves. She went over to the desk and asked the receptionist if Mr. Alphonso had left a message for her. The smartly dressed young woman behind the desk shook her head. “No,
Signorina
.”

Joanne was just about to give up when the glass reception front doors parted and Dante stepped inside, striding toward her. “I’m so sorry Joanne, I had a puncture.”

She let out a breath. “That’s okay, I was beginning to think you weren’t coming and Jackson Byrne was enjoying the floor show.”

He smiled a smile that found its way directly to her heart, robbing her of her breath. “Let’s not worry about him, Joanne. Today we spend all day together on my boat.” He took her arm and guided her to his car outside.

***

At the waterfront, Dante helped Joanne aboard his white luxury yacht named
Maria
. “She’s beautiful,’ Joanne exclaimed, and then frowned for a moment.

“You’re wondering who Maria is, aren’t you?” he said, looking deep into her aquamarine eyes. “Please rest assured, Joanne, this yacht is named after my mother. I bought it last year after her death. In the early days it gave me great comfort heading out to sea on my own, but really I wasn’t alone as it seemed as though Mamma was with me.”

She smiled. “Of course, I should have guessed as much.”

What did she
really
think of him? That he was a womanizer? A playboy? At one time maybe, but not now. Now all he wanted was a quiet life, a good woman, and a family like his brother.

“Well it looks a lovely day for a boat trip!” he said brightly. The sun had been out since early morning. “I hope you’ve brought your sun protection cream and your bikini, Joanne,” he joked.

Her face flushed. She looked a little shy. He liked that about her. She was nothing like the women he had taken on boat trips in the past. They couldn’t wait to strip off and show him their wares; they were proud of their lithe bodies. Tanned and taut, yet although their bodywork was up to scratch, they were self-centered sorts. He could see that now, though at the time, he had a blind spot to it.

What he loved about Joanne was her innocence, her zest for life. He was sure she was on the verge of telling him last night what had happened to her during her childhood. It must be something big for her to hold back like that.

He showed her to a seat next to his up at the helm where they could both look out to sea as he piloted the boat.

“Where are we going?”

“Aah. Wait and see young lady.”

“You’re full of surprises, Dante.”

He shrugged. “Yes, what is life if we do the same boring thing day in day out? You could be back in London now, at your desk instead of being in this beautiful country.”

“I’m glad you reminded me. It makes this trip feel all the sweeter.” She smiled. It was good to see her so happy, yet there was something she needed to say.

“Joanne, if you ever want to talk,” he said, taking her hand. “Just let me know.”

He heard her take in a deep breath and let it out again. “Okay,” she said at last. “You’ll be the first to know, if and when I’m ready to talk about things.”

“Well, let’s set sail then!” he shouted. “Anchors away!”

The sun glinted off the sea, sending a profusion of sparkling lights into her eyes, dazzling her vision. She could almost taste the sea air and feel the wet, cold, ocean spray coming up to meet her. It was an exhilarating trip as the boat glided across the waves. Reaching into her bag, she grabbed her sunshades and put them on. “Ah that’s better. So, where are we going?”

“To a beautiful place. You will not be disappointed,
amore mio
. Now, how would you like a nice glass of wine? I shall save the champagne for when we get to our destination.”

He leaned over and opened up a large plastic box and took out a bottle of wine that had been chilling and handed her two crystal glasses.

She blinked. “At this time of the day, Dante?”

“Any time is a good time for a glass of wine in Sicily.” He poured the wine into the glasses and, taking one for himself, took a long sip. “Ahh, that was a good year.”

“From your family vineyard?”

“Yes, but of course. This is a very good wine from 2007. It was an excellent year. We had a bumper crop of grapes.”

She took a sip, savoring the taste. “I concur.” She sat back and closed her eyes for a moment. Life was so different here. What it would be like to live in Sicily. The people were so friendly. It reminded her of Wales in that respect, though not the weather, of course. Some days all it did was rain there. She never regretted moving to London; it had advanced her career as a journalist.

“What are you thinking about, Joanne?” Dante sat down next to her.

Her eyes flicked open. “Oh, about my family home. It was a little Welsh village and my people were similar to yours, so warm. Everyone knew everyone.”

He nodded. “That is nice to know. But when you went to London, you found it impersonal, no?”

Startled, she sat up and placed her shades on her forehead to look into his eyes. “How did you know that?”

He laughed. “I do not have to be a mind reader to know such things, Joanne. I felt it myself the first time I went to London to work at our office. I felt so lonely being away from my homeland.”

She had no idea someone like him with his lifestyle could feel that way. “But didn’t you have any relationships at that time?”

“No, not at all. I was with Carla then. So I couldn’t live the life of a single man. The nights were long for me and the days were short.”

“So has Carla ever been on this boat?”

His eyes clouded over for a moment as if deciding honesty was the best policy. “Yes, but only the once. It didn’t turn out too well, we argued a lot. I should have seen the signs then—that things weren’t going too well between us.”

“Yes, I suppose we can all see things with hindsight.”

He nodded and sat back as if in quiet reflection. She wished she hadn’t reminded him of the woman who had hurt him so bad. Part of her wished the woman didn’t exist at all. How envious she was of Dante’s affection for the woman. She imagined for a moment, they were an item. There was no Carla and Dante, it was Dante and Joanne and everyone knew that. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Sometime later, Dante nudged her and said, “Have you got that bikini with you?”

She nodded. “Yes, but I’d prefer not to wear it.”

“Do not worry, Joanne. I am not here to judge you. Please go below deck and put it on. I am going to switch off the engine.”

She picked up her bag and, trembling, went down the small flight of steps. There was a little passageway with a bedroom to the left and a kitchen to the right, and toward the back a bigger room that looked like some sort of lounge area. She pushed the bedroom door open wide and went inside, gasping when she saw the mirrored ceiling. The bed looked very luxurious with its black and gold bed covers and matching pillows. It was a playboy’s bedroom. Had he made love to Carla or any other woman in that bed?

She removed her dress and underwear and slipped on her red bikini. She’d put a little weight on of late, which she’d resolved to remove, but somehow she hadn’t achieved that. She planned on going to some sort of exercise class when she returned home. Recently she took up jogging, but the hard slog on the pavements and the poor air quality from the city traffic wasn’t ideal. There was another problem with living in London, too many takeaways, as she lived on her own. Back home, her mother always ensured she had home-cooked meals. Studying herself in the mirror, she tried to assure herself she didn’t look too bad. At least her gold belly chain sort of emphasized she had a waist.

She wrapped her large beach towel around herself and came above deck to find Dante had already changed into a pair of white swimming trunks. She held her breath when she saw his tanned, trim body. He had a smattering of black hair on his chest and looked very muscular. His chest was broad, and she longed to run her fingers over its contours and lay her head on it. She inhaled, exhaled, and tried to keep her composure.

“Come on, Joanne,” he teased. “Drop the towel.” His chocolate brown eyes glinted devilishly.

She let her towel fall to the floor and watched as his eyes widened with desire.

“
Mamma Mia.
Why do you fear showing your body to me? You are beautiful…and that gold chain around your stomach, it makes you look very sexy…”

No one had ever called her sexy before, ever. Her mouth dry, she licked her lips. “I haven’t let a man see me in a bikini for years, Dante. I’m not as slim as I used to be.”

“No, no, Joanne. To me you look fabulous. I love your curves. They suit you. A man needs somewhere comfortable to land.” He laughed, making her laugh too, and it helped to ease her heightened nerves. He pecked her on the cheek and then, much to her astonishment, he turned, walked to the side of the boat, climbed on the edge, and dived into the water, sending up a huge splash of sea spray.

She stood and peered overboard but couldn’t see him for a few seconds; her heart thudded.
Where had he gone?
Then there was a splash as he emerged and wiped the water out of his eyes, laughing and bobbing up and down in the water. “Come on in here, join me please, Joanne,” he urged. She hadn’t been expecting this at all.

Gingerly she sat on the side of the boat. “Will you help me into the water?” She bit her lip.

“Of course,
amore mio
. Jump to me, I will catch you.”

She closed her eyes and with blind faith threw herself into his arms. For a moment the combined weight made them dip under water and she began to panic a little. Then they were fully submerged, and eventually returned to the surface, bobbing up and down. There was a small ladder at the side of the boat she could cling to if she wanted to and that reassured her somehow. Who could fail to feel safe with Dante around?

“But…but…where are we?” she spluttered.

“Joanne, we are only just off the coastline of Sicily. Over there are the Aeolian Islands.” He pointed and she made out some dark shapes in the distance. “We shall have a little swim here, rest later, and eat too. Then I am going to sail the boat over to one of them. It’s called Lipari and it’s the largest island, it’s volcanic. The food there is out of this world.”

“You are full of surprises, Dante.”

“I know.” He smiled and drew her close to him, stroked her face, and then pressed his lips down on hers, stealing her breath away as his tongue danced with hers. “Like that you mean?” he asked, drawing away.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“And like this?” He wrapped his arms around her and untied her bikini top. She gasped at his cheek and watched as he spun it around his head and tossed it aboard the boat.

“What did you do that for?” She blinked several times.

“Because you have a beauty, Joanne, that needs to be admired.” He cupped a breast in his hand and lowered his head to suckle. She groaned as a tingle of desire coursed around her body. “Please do not worry, there is no one to see us here like this.”

He pushed her up against the boat; the water was so clear, so aquamarine and warmer than she thought, though that might have been because he had switched on her button of desire. There were some fish swimming down below in among the fronds and rocks. She gazed in awe.

“Yes, this is a good place to catch fish, Joanne. I have been scuba diving here. You should join me sometime.”

She laughed. “I think this is as much of the ocean I can stand, Dante. I’m not a strong swimmer.”

He ran a wet finger along her cheek. “Ah, you are frightened, I can see that, but you need not be when you are with me. I can teach you about so many things.”

She shivered; without a doubt, there were many things Dante Alphonso could teach her, not least of all love-making. He was her tutor and she was about to become a very willing student.

His hand trailed over her stomach, and aware of the hardness of the boat behind her, she watched as he disappeared under the water. What was he doing? She gasped as she felt him loosen the tie on one side of her bikini bottom and then the other. He emerged from the water, grinning, with her red bikini bottom in his hand as if he had won first prize. She was exposed and vulnerable, but at the same time it was exhilarating.

“Please hand them back to me,” she urged.

“You’ll have to catch me first.” He swam off with them in his hand and she tried to follow him, keeping up at first, but then she got weaker and out of breath. He didn’t notice. She began to panic and slipped beneath the water, and then she came back up for breath but felt herself slip again and remerge. “Dante!” she called out, but he couldn’t seem to see her, probably thinking he was well into his game. Then she saw herself back in a different sea off the coast of Wales. She was eight years old and she was drowning again.

“Dante!” her voice was getting weaker as she swallowed copious amounts of seawater. She was about to die, she was sure of it. She had been rescued all those years ago, but now her life flashed before her. She saw her father’s face and he was reaching out to her, but he was going under the water.

She tried to cry for help, but somehow she couldn’t get the word out; her throat felt paralyzed with fear.

Then Dante turned. “My God, Joanne!” he shouted and swam back to her side. He hadn’t been very far away, but she felt she lost him somehow. She felt him hold her in his arms and hug her. “I am so sorry.”

Safe and secure once more, her rapid breathing returned to normal as her panic dissipated.

“Thank you,” she gasped.

“Oh no, you should not be thanking me,
amore mio
, this is all my fault. I only intended having some fun with you. Carla was a strong swimmer. I should have been more careful with you. I should not have left you to your own devices.” He hugged her and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Come on, I want to get you back on the boat, safe and warm and dry.”

***

Full of shame, he helped her back onboard the boat and covered her in her bath towel. What on earth had possessed him to leave her like that and think she could catch up with him? Carla had been such a good swimmer, he’d expected the same thing from Joanne. She was sobbing now, huge racking sobs. He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed.

“I’m sorry Joanne. I didn’t realize it would be this bad for you.” He stroked her face as he sat beside her.

“It’s not that, Dante. You did nothing wrong, I should have explained something to you.”

“Is it something about what happened to you as a child?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you want to talk about it now?”

She nodded, and his thumb wiped away a tear that was coursing its way down her cheek; she trembled beneath his touch.

“I’ll tell you what, you need to get changed and warm again. You’ve had a shock. So please put your clothes on and I’ll fetch you some hot coffee, and I’ll add some brandy to it. How does that sound?”

She nodded. He kissed her on the forehead and left her to change. He could have kicked himself for causing her such distress. On the other hand, if it helped her to talk about something so traumatic that had been affecting her for years, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing.

He returned a few minutes later with the coffee laced with brandy. She was dressed now; he handed her a blanket. “Here, wrap this around you and drink the coffee slowly, Joanne.”

She nodded and took the cup from his hand, and he sat on the bed beside her.

“It tastes good.”

He smiled. “So, what happened out there?”

“I had a sort of a flashback…Dante…”

“Flashback?”

“Yes. You see when I was a little girl, around eight years old, I was on holiday with my parents. I was on the beach and went in the sea. I kept looking to see where my parents were so I knew how to get back to them. I had an inflatable air mattress with me and was playing with it, but found myself drifting farther and farther out to sea. I panicked, fell off it, and started going under the water. My father must have seen from the shore what was going on. He couldn’t swim but bravely came to rescue me. I don’t remember exactly what happened, just both of us going under the water, and the next thing I remember is lying on the beach, surrounded by people, and my mother crying. My father had drowned trying to rescue me.” She sobbed and he took her in his arms and rocked her, softly kissing the top of her head.