Falling for Italy (21 page)

“Sure you are. You have to get some rest. You’ve only slept a few hours last night.”

He climbed onto the bed, straddling her to drag her sweater over her head. She stretched her arms helpfully, still on her belly, and arched her bare butt toward him.

She smiled lazily, her face hidden in the pillow.

“You don’t seem to be so tired yourself,” she observed when she felt the hardness behind his jeans’ zipper. She probed upward using her hips and he groaned, lowering himself over her, his chest pressing down her bare back.

“I’m far from tired now,
amore
,” he whispered directly into her ear, then flicked his tongue over the back of her neck.

The touch of his mouth, along with the sensation of being trapped under him, was incredible, making every sensitive hair on her skin ripple. He ran his hands down her naked body, sliding them under her to caress her breasts, as she arched up, overcome by the elemental need to be possessed and dominated by her man.

When his fingers snuck between her thighs, she moaned, liquid pleasure erupting from her body. She tried to flip over, desperate to have him naked and inside her, but he only pinned her arms down, saying gruffly, “No. I’m not done with you.”

His mouth and tongue glided lower over her back, kissing her shoulders, each of her shoulder blades, swirling down the small of her back, then meandering on her sides to tease her ribcage while she squirmed under him, flooded by pure, primal lust.

She was ready to implode when he finally allowed her to turn over and face him. She reached for him with her hands and captured his waist between her legs in a quick motion, reversing their positions to straddle him. Her breath came fast and shallow, as did his when she nearly ripped off his sweater, trying to get it out of the way.

Feasting on his skin, she attacked his powerful torso. His head fell back, sinking into the pillow, and he grasped her hips, pressing her down onto his lap. She kissed his jawline and throat, his pectorals, tasted his nipples, trailing kisses down his body, drunk on the power she had over him.

He was breathing hard when she unzipped his jeans and pulled them down, leaving him gloriously naked—rigid as steel and throbbing with desire for her.

She bent her mouth to him and he buried his hands in her hair, mixing Italian and English in unintelligible phrases that reverberated off the walls. She worked him relentlessly using only her mouth, until she knew he could bare it no longer. He tangled one hand into her hair, drawing her up to him. He kissed her hungrily, sending his tongue deep inside her mouth, just a brief second before he pushed into her, catching her sharp cry of pleasure into his own chest.

They began moving in a perfect rhythm, increasingly harder and faster, driven by love, lust, and need such as she’d never experienced. A tornado of mind-blowing pleasure was building between and inside them. When she climaxed, it was like something blissful had exploded inside her, and a bright rainbow bloomed slowly into her entire being, leaving her floating in absolute satisfaction.

She collapsed onto his chest, spent, her heart drumming in her ears, her body radiating heat and shaking with delicious aftershocks. Giovanni stroked her back gently, giving her a much-needed moment to recover.

When her senses stirred again, she felt he was still hard and full inside her. Incredulous, she managed to lift her head and stare at him in astonishment.

“Why are you still— Haven’t you…”

He smiled wickedly, caressing her ass.

“No, I haven’t. I’m not done with you.”

So saying, he lifted her off him and pushed her down on the bed again, lowering his mouth to her breasts. Her nipples were still so sensitive her breath caught in her throat when his tongue touched them. She didn’t think she could take this anymore, but to her amazement, renewed desire started to jolt through her body, making her vibrate again with need, as his lips trailed down, down.

Her body quickened and she reached for him, but he flipped her onto her stomach once more. He got on his knees and lifted her hips, so she was kneeling in front of him, her buttocks pressed against his rigid erection. He folded her fingers around the wood headboard.

Her hands convulsed around the headboard as he took his sex into his hand and rubbed the tip over her wet center.

“Oh, God!” She heard herself moan, then all reason left her as he inched himself inside her, filling her completely.

His thrusts were slow and long at first, then his breathing accelerated and so did the rhythm of his strokes. He pushed deeper and deeper, his strong fingers digging into her hips until he brought her to an explosive orgasm, just before he let out a guttural groan and shuddered, lost in his own climax.

They lowered gently onto the bed, trembling with fulfillment and repletion. He supported himself on his elbows, not letting her absorb all of his weight, though she was too far gone to notice.

She was too drained to form any words, but she laced her fingers with his, squeezing hard, then turned her head and kissed his knuckles. She hoped the gesture was enough to convey to Giovanni all the feelings he inspired in her soul, as well as the absolute happiness she derived from having his wholehearted love.

Chapter Sixteen

It was still dark when she awoke. Giovanni was sound asleep next to her, so she snuck out of the bed quietly, not to disturb him. She pulled on a thick robe and shoved her feet into fluffy house slippers before walking into the bathroom, where she washed her face and brushed her teeth.

After that, she left the bedroom, silently closing the door. She descended the stairs carefully, her long robe trailing behind her.

Guccio was asleep too, snoring on the couch in the den. When he sensed her, he became alert at once and rolled off his resting place, then came to greet her and lick her hands. She sat on the bottom step and stroked him for a while, talking to him in whispers, while he nuzzled his nose against hers.

She felt content and happy in her new home, despite the nasty episode that had happened in Rome. She’d almost convinced herself the robbery had been a coincidental one. Almost. There was nothing they could do anyway but wait for the police to do their job.

Meanwhile, she planned to enjoy Christmas with her fiancé and their dog. She looked across the living room at the bare tree Paolo had bought and placed next to the window. They would decorate it together and make this a tradition, for every year they were going to spend loving and cherishing one another. And even though their Christmas gifts had been spoiled, they decided they would exchange new gifts on New Year’s Eve.

She yawned and got up, heading to the kitchen, with Guccio trailing after her. She filled his bowls with fresh water and a generous portion of dog food, and then started to brew some real coffee. She usually heated some water in the microwave and threw some coffee powder in it, but today she wanted to go through the whole ritual.

They had more than enough food, thanks to Lucia. She’d watched the housekeeper cook a few times and caught some useful tips. Maybe one of these days she’d cook something for Giovanni. After he’d start work again, on the
fourth or
fifth of January next year.

Next year, she mused. How many Christmas days had she spent alone, with no thought of having a family and a life partner? Well, this year her life had gotten a drastic makeover and she was nothing but happy with the change. She tried to envision herself back in her tiny London flat, alone with her books, watching the world go by through her glass wall. She couldn’t. Not anymore. Life without Giovanni was simply unimaginable. He was the missing part of her soul—a part she hadn’t even known was missing until that day she’d met him, on a lazy December evening at the shooting range.

Lost in reveries, she didn’t hear him approach until he was just behind her, planting a soft kiss on the back of her neck. She turned and placed her cheek in his hand, letting it rest there for a brief second.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas,
amore
!”

He kissed the top of her head, then sat at the table next to her, stretching and rubbing sleep from his eyes. She noticed he’d pulled on a thick black robe as well. The day was really cold, reminding them it was indeed winter.

“Want some coffee?” Without waiting for a reply, she got up to pour him some.

“Thanks. Smells divine,” he remarked, sniffing the steam above his mug.

“Well, I thought we deserve a treat on Christmas morning, so I took the time to make it properly. How did you sleep?”

“Great. You?”

“Mmmm… Excellent.”

Guccio came to the table to greet his master and Giovanni gave him a full body rub. His teeth gleamed white against his dark face covered by black stubble.

“Hey, boy, did you get any breakfast? Of course you have,” he said, scratching the dog’s head. “You’ll make him obese if you don’t stop feeding him every hour,” he told Sonia.

“I feed him when he asks for food,” she replied defensively, making cooing sounds at Guccio, who moved toward her, overwhelmed by so much attention.

“Baby, he would eat non-stop if he didn’t have the limitations of a normal-sized stomach,” Giovanni said, sipping his coffee.

“Want some breakfast?”

“Not yet. I’m not quite awake. What do you say we crawl back into bed and watch a movie or something?”

“I say that’s the best idea I’ve heard today,” she replied grinning and got to her feet. “Let’s go. But,” she emphasized, “Guccio stays with us. In bed. It’s Christmas,” she added when she saw he was about to protest. “No arguments.”

They made their way back upstairs and cuddled into bed, turning on the TV set in the bedroom. Guccio fell promptly asleep, curled at their feet, snoring in canine bliss.

They watched holiday comedies until noon, munching potato chips and cookies, snuggled close under the bed covers.

The phone rang just when Look Who’s Talking ended. To their surprise and delight, it was Linda.

“
Pronto, mia bambina! Come stai?
” Giovanni asked, a wide smile spreading on his face. “Hold on, I’ll put you on speaker so Sonia can hear.”

He did and Linda’s voice filled the room.

“Merry Christmas,
fratello!
Merry Christmas, Sonia! How are you?”

“We’re fine,” said Giovanni, putting aside a bag of chips. “Snuggling in bed and watching movies. How about you? We didn’t call so we wouldn’t interrupt your honeymoon. How’s Paris?”

“Gorgeous!” Linda exclaimed. “I bought more jewelry than I could wear in a year. Gerard is still in shock,” she added chuckling.

“Is he with you? I need to talk to him,” said Giovanni.

“I’m here. Merry Christmas everyone,” Gerard’s deep voice came clear and loud. Sonia noticed his French accent was more pronounced than usual, probably due to the return of his birth land.

“Merry Christmas to you too, brother. Listen, I talked to the director of the Institute for Cancer Research in Rome. He was thrilled to hear my story and wants to see you right after the holidays, as soon as you can come here.”

After a brief pause, Sonia heard Gerard’s voice again—incredulous, excited and perhaps a bit emotional.

“Are you serious? That would be… Wow, thanks a lot! I owe you big, G.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Gerard. I’m just trying to help you do your job, that’s all. How’s the brat treating you?”

His brother-in-law sighed.

“Yesterday she left more money at a shopping center than it would take to feed a third-world country. Otherwise, she’s fine. How’s Sonia? Does she like the house?”

“I love it.” Sonia entered the conversation. “Everything is absolutely lovely here. I’m starting to get the hang of the language too. Giovanni took me to meet your mother a couple of days ago, Linda.”

She didn’t mention the robbery incident, because that would surely spoil the other couple’s mood.

“He did?” Linda squealed in delight. “How was it? How is she?”

“She’s fine, terribly sorry she couldn’t come at your wedding. She and her dream husband seemed to like me.”

“They loved her,” Giovanni put in. “She and Mom decided we should get married on Valentine’s Day.”

“Really? God, that is fabulous! But when will we have time to make all the preparations?” asked Linda, the enthusiasm in her voice rising even more.

“We’ll work it out. Giovanna promised to help us,” Sonia reassured her. “I’m glad you’re okay and having fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” added Giovanni. “Thanks for the call, sis, brother. Make sure you bring us some souvenirs.”

“You bet we will. Take care, both of you. And have a magical Christmas!”

“You too.
Ciao, bella!
”

After he put the phone back on the nightstand, Giovanni turned to Sonia.

“Thanks for not mentioning the robbery incident. That would have surely worried them.”

“You don’t have to thank me. They’re my family too now, remember?”

“How could I forget?”

He pulled her to him, gathering her to his chest and holding on tight. After a few moments, he gave her a quick kiss and asked, “What do you say we go downstairs and decorate the tree, and then have lunch? I’m starving.”

Her face brightened even more and she smiled up at him, nodding eagerly. She rushed out of bed to put on a pair of old jeans and a soft gray sweater. After digging through the closet, she threw Giovanni a similar pair of faded jeans, then found a black sweater which looked like it had seen far better days. She studied it frowning.

“How’d this get here? I haven’t seen a single piece of clothing in your wardrobe that’s not new or a designer thing until now.”

He was just sliding on the jeans, when he lifted his head to glance at the sweater.

“Oh, that. Linda gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday. What can I say? I’m sentimental enough to have kept it,” he said and grinned, catching the fabric as she threw it at him. “Lucky it was too big then, or else I’d never get into it now.”

Guccio was not to be budged. Having found the most comfortable spot between the bed covers, he was sunk deep in the mattress, snoring peacefully.

They let him be and descended the stairs, careful not to disturb the tinsel with which Lucia had decorated the railing.

The old couple had bought three boxes of tree decorations, which was surely overkill. But as long as it made them happy, Sonia didn’t see the harm.

They opened the boxes and started playing decorators, working from the bottom of the incredibly tall tree.

“When I was a kid, Linda and I always wanted to do this, but our father wouldn’t let us,” Giovanni said introspectively, hanging a fat, red glass Santa on a lower branch.

“Why the hell not?” Sonia asked intrigued, passing him a matching white Santa.

“He said we didn’t have enough artistic sense to balance the colors and shapes and so on.”

“What bullshit!” she exclaimed scandalized, shifting her weight on one hip. “Decorating the Christmas tree should be fun for a kid. Something he needs to do with his family. Your dad sounds like he’s a class A asshole.”

Giovanni shrugged and stepped a bit away from the tree, looking at it from several angles to see where something was missing.

“Not really. He is just…strange. Never managed to adapt to the real world. He lives in his dream world, in his ivory tower, as he used to say.”

“Well, I’ll let you decorate the tree every Christmas,” she told him sweetly and hugged him, receiving an indulgent smile. “My parents were great,” she went on, thinking back past the years. “They’d let me do just about anything I wanted. They were puzzled when I started taking shooting lessons, at age fourteen, but they supported me, even though they couldn’t understand. I wonder what they’d think about my becoming a shooting trainer.”

She felt a sad smile shadowing her face, as she rhetorically asked the question she’d asked herself so many times before.

Giovanni paused, then turned to her. Taking her shoulders between his hands, he gazed deeply into her eyes.

“Sonia, you’re the most incredible woman I have ever met. Not only professionally—though you’ve justly earned your renown as the best target shooting trainer in London. I didn’t know your parents, but I have absolutely no doubt they would be proud of the woman you are. I know I am.”

She looked at him, feeling warmth spread into her body, into her soul. She embraced him tightly, resting her head on his chest, while his arms held her close, strong and reassuring.

“Thank you for saying that. You’ve no idea how much it means to me. I never thought I’d have a family again,” she went on, her voice husky with emotion, “but you filled the emptiness in my heart so perfectly and completely. I’m so thankful for your love, Giovanni.”

They stood in silence for a while, in the dim winter light coming from the window, next to their Christmas tree. After a while, she detached herself gently from him and said, “Let’s finish this, okay? I’m hungry.”

They resumed their amateurish decorating until there was only one decoration left—a gold and silver star that was supposed to go on the tree’s top. Sonia looked up at the nearly ten-foot tall tree, tapping her bottom lip with one finger.

“I guess we need a chair.”

“Nope. You put it on, I’ll lift you.”

She took the star by one corner and turned to Giovanni, but her grasp was precarious on the thin glass. Despite her quick reflexes, it slipped from her fingers and dropped to the floor. Giovanni bent and reached for it too, but gravity was faster.

She didn’t hear it break though. Nor did she hear any gunfire as the bullet penetrated the large window and slammed into the opposite wall.

Like in a slow-motion picture, she saw the window glass shatter into dozens of pieces, as Giovanni pushed her down, out of the fire line. She hit the floor hard, but barely managed to catch her breath when he ushered her toward the stairs, out of sight.

“What the hell was that?” she whispered looking around, trying in vain to assess this unimaginable situation.

“Quickly, let’s get into the study,” he told her, while they crawled toward and up the stairs, hearts racing and breaths panting, her hand clutched into his.