Under the Sicilian Sky Read online

  He placed a huge corned beef and pastrami sandwich, worthy of Katz Deli in New York, in front of her. Her mouth watered along with her eyes. He could have tried wowing her with his wealth. Instead, he’d made this all about her and what she enjoyed.

  “I have a phobia about water. Even taking a shower is a test.” He shook his head and the somber expression on his face was replaced with a sensual smile. “Of course, maybe if I had someone to hold my hand—or other parts of me—I wouldn’t be so afraid.”

  “We’ll see,” she replied enigmatically. Would the water be warm enough to shower when they returned to the cottage? It was heated by the sun and tended to chill as soon as darkness fell.

  At the first bite of her sandwich, she closed her eyes and moaned. This was all the things she missed about New York epitomized in food. When she opened her eyes again, Matteo stared at her with undisguised lust.

  “Keep that up and you won’t make it to the cheesecake.”

  She moaned again. Best. Date. Ever.

  He won. Hands down.

  Chapter Nine

  For a very brief second, Matteo considered wading into the cold sea to quell his raging erection. If Bella moaned one more time with that sensuous overtone he remembered all too well, he might explode. She used to make that sound when he flicked her nipples with his tongue. Or ran his hands up the inside of her thigh until he reached her damp panties.

  Sitting was no longer an option, so he poured her a large glass of wine instead. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off her creamy shoulders exposed in the dress or the way the wind teased the hem and threatened to lift it off her legs and show him heaven.

  “Tell me about your businesses,” he prompted.

  She munched her sandwich and tilted her head to one side, a sign he knew meant she was trying to figure out his angle. She was lousy at card games and he’d won every hand of strip poker they’d ever played. Then again, there really were no losers in strip poker.

  “The guesthouse evolved when someone stopped me in the village one day and asked if there was any decent accommodation in the area. They wanted a place to completely relax off the beaten track. We’d often talked about converting the old barn into a house for us, so why not, and rent it out until you returned? It was hard getting a loan from the bank for the renovations, but eventually they agreed.”

  He had a feeling Cristo had something to do with that. “And sheep farming? No one around here has raised animals in decades.”

  “I know, right? And the climate is perfect. Plus, Tunisia is just across the water and they love lamb. So it was a no-brainer. And a steep learning curve. I had just about failed when I met a tourist from New Zealand who used to raise sheep. He gave me a few pointers. I still lose a few, especially around lambing time, but I’m slowly building up my flock. I sell the wool to a local knitters’ co-op, and I’m looking into extracting the lanolin to use in a new range of creams.”

  “And the Lavender Ladies?”

  “I met them at an entrepreneur tradeshow and we came up with the business together. They harvest the lavender and distill the essential oil and then we make the rest of the products together. Lavender oil is a natural stress reliever and good for other ailments. I rubbed some on your temples when you had the migraine the other night.”

  He nodded. “Where do you sell your products?”

  “At the markets. We take turns manning the stands, although I’ve been so busy lately Bianka and Antonia have done all that legwork.”

  “Are the products you have in the bathroom samples of what you sell?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you produce enough to supply a small hotel or two? I was thinking of adding a proprietary set of soaps and lotions to my high-end resorts. They’d work beautifully.”

  Her face lit up. “Really? That would be awesome. I’ll talk to my partners. Selling at the markets is a real drag. You have to be there super early to set up and then stay late to take down the stand and all for a few hundred euros a day. But we haven’t had much luck getting any of the local shops to carry our line.”

  “Give me samples, figure out how much you can realistically make each month, and we’ll run a pilot program in my hotel in Marrakech. If they’re popular with the guests, we’ll roll them out to the other resorts. You could also sell larger quantities in the hotel shop.”

  He could see she was already running numbers in her head. He’d wanted a distraction but not a mental desertion. “What about the bees? Why did you get into honey production?”

  “That was kind of a twofold solution. I needed bees to keep the lavender blooming but also for medicinal purposes.”

  He raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt. Her business acumen was exceptional. With Bella at his side, coupled with Farrah’s artistic genius, they could conquer the world.

  “Signor Francisco bought the artichoke field from me just after your father died. Then he, too, passed within six months. A young family purchased the farm but found it as difficult as I did to find buyers outside of the mafia’s controlled market. They couldn’t sell the farm because no one else would buy the land for what they paid . . .

  “Anyway, they had a teenage boy who suffered from really bad allergies. They’d moved to Sicily to get him away from a rough crowd in Napoli, not realizing this would be another kind of torment for him. I felt bad for them, like I’d handed them my white elephant even though I didn’t sell to them directly. I read that eating honey made by local bees helps with allergies. I started with one hive and now have four. To be honest, it’s my least favorite business, but the honey always sells out each year and we’ve started to make candles with the wax, infused with the lavender oil, and those are hot sellers, too. So I can’t really afford to give up the bees.”

  He refilled her glass of wine, unable to stop his smile at her animated and roundabout way of explaining a business decision. “And the boy? Did the honey help?”

  “Yup, it was Tony and he married Angela, who runs the café and, I assume, made this delicious dinner.”

  He nodded. “She was delighted when I asked her to make a traditional New York meal for you. Are you ready for cheesecake?”

  She glanced at her plate and seemed amazed she’d eaten the whole sandwich. He was surprised as well. But she was so thin, she could do with putting on a little weight. “Actually, I’m stuffed. Let’s go for a walk along the beach first, help me work up a bit more appetite.”

  He eyed the water, a black haze already tormenting the edge of his mind. Bella took his hand and pulled him toward the sea. As a wave crashed over his feet, he drew in a shattered breath, trying to hold the panic at bay.

  Bella’s gaze darted to his. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad.” She started to move away, but he held her hand tighter.

  “No. I can do this. I won’t be controlled by fear.” He pulled in another deep breath, the salt air calming him. Or was it Bella’s hand in his, the hint of lavender that hung about her? He forced a smile as she still stared at him, concerned. “But no deeper than my ankles.”

  They strolled along the beach toward the south with Bella between him and the sea, the water barely covering his toes when it flowed onto the shore. At first they walked hand in hand, then Bella slipped her arm around his waist and nestled her body against his. They’d always fit perfectly. When they reached the jagged rocks that separated their beach from the next along the coast, he put both arms around her.

  Automatically she tilted her head back for his kiss. Their lips met like it was the first time. Determined to keep it light, to let her make the decision as to how far they’d go, he kept the kiss tentative at first, remembering the feel, the texture, the taste of her. There was still so much unresolved between them. But this—this passion—was never in doubt.

  And impossible to resist.

  • • •

  A wave crashed around her legs, soaking the bottom of her dress, but Matteo didn’t break the hold he had on her. Was she s
till on the massage table, dreaming this? He plundered her mouth now. This was no gentle reintroduction to loving. This was a man starved of physical connection. She could protest, but her body was too busy getting reacquainted with his. Her hands roamed up and down his back, one even so bold as to cup his ass and pull him tighter against her. His rigid erection pressed against her belly, and she arched into it, eliciting a moan of pleasure from Matteo.

  Finally, he released her lips and trailed his down her exposed neck, nipping at the tendon and then soothing it with his tongue. She dragged in large gulps of air, trying to surface from the riptide of desire sucking her under. Too late. His hand found her tight nipple and caressed it through the fabric of her dress. She no longer wanted to move.

  She could die happy in his arms.

  Desperate for more skin on skin contact, she ripped his shirt open and feasted her hands on his pecs before subjecting his nipples to the same pleasure he’d bestowed on hers. His moan matched her own as he shoved down the top of her dress, baring her from the waist up.

  “Merda, Bella, you’re not wearing a bra.” At least that’s what she figured he said, because with her blood pounding in her ears like a drummer on meth and his face pressed against her naked flesh, it was hard to be exactly sure. He took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking her into a frenzy. God, had it always been this intense?

  Another wave crashed against her, wetting her dress to her backside. But as she was more intent on getting Matteo’s buckle undone while she still had enough brain power to make her fingers work, she didn’t particularly care. Besides, with the heat Matteo was generating in her, the cool water was welcome. She was only surprised she didn’t sizzle like lava meeting the sea.

  She’d just managed to free his belt, pop the top button, and slide the zipper down on Matteo’s pants when suddenly she was soaked head to toe. She would have lost her footing as the sand disappeared under her feet if Matteo didn’t have a firm hold on her. She spluttered, moving a sopping strand of hair from her mouth.

  Matteo’s face was white, and the hand that had been fondling her breast now clutched the rock face next to them.

  “Rogue wave,” he said. “We’d better move away from the water.”

  As another wave hit, he grabbed her arm and dragged her as far up the beach as possible. The sand was narrower here; they’d have to move quickly to get to the wider beach where the water wouldn’t reach. She pulled the top of her dress back up while Matteo refastened his pants. Then taking her hand, he ran with her along the shore. Despite his fear of the water, he put himself between her and the sea.

  “I’m more terrified of losing you than of the water,” he said as she tried to switch their positions.

  They were both thoroughly soaked by the time they returned to their picnic spot. The beach was wide here and only during the fiercest storms did the waves reach the cliff face.

  Matteo pulled a blanket out of a backpack and went to wrap it around her shoulders when he froze. “Bella, are you trying to kill me? You’ve got nothing on under that dress.” His voice was strained, his eyes glued to her body.

  “I didn’t have any underwear that wouldn’t show.” She didn’t need the blanket now. The heat of his gaze warmed her.

  “I can’t do this.” He tossed her the blanket and turned his back.

  She wrapped it around herself, instantly chilled to the bone. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Can’t do what?”

  “I can’t spend another night in the room next to yours, listening to you breathe and move in your bed with me not there beside you. Either you let me love you or I go stay in a hotel until you’ve made your decision.”

  “I—” Want you so bad I can’t think straight.

  He turned but didn’t touch her. “Bella, eight years ago we stood on this beach and I vowed to love you, and only you, forever. During the time we were apart, my brain may have forgotten you, but my body didn’t. I remained faithful. The ring on my finger told me I’d made a vow to someone and had to live up to that—”

  “You haven’t had sex in six years?” Her heart began to sing the Hallelujah Chorus. Passionate Matteo had stayed celibate even though he couldn’t even remember her name? “I haven’t slept with anyone else either.”

  “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. But surely you can see how hard it is for me to be so close to you, my wife, and not be with you.” He wrapped his arms around her, blanket and all, resting his cheek on top of her head. But he held his lower body away from hers. “Think of it this way, bellissima: if we’d have known we were going to be separated for so long, don’t you think we would have had one amazing night of love before I was torn from you? Let’s pretend this is that night.”

  “A time warp, epic sex night—that’s all it will be? You won’t refuse to leave if I ask you to, or start a fight if I choose one of the other men who have offered for me?”

  He hauled in a deep breath. “I also promised on our wedding day to put your happiness before my own. If being with me doesn’t make you happy, I will let you go. But know this, amore, leaving you again will be the hardest thing I’ll ever do.”

  God, she so wanted this night with him. But she couldn’t put her whole future in his hands just yet. Couldn’t give up everything she was and everything she’d worked so hard for. Neither could she deny her body that clamored for his touch. “How about this: we have this one night in celebration of what we shared before. But tomorrow at noon, we revert to what we have now: a fractured marriage with both of us wanting different things.”

  “Bella . . . ”

  She spread his shirt wide and ran her hands up his chest, shrugging off the blanket around her. “That’s all I can offer you.”

  “I hate this negotiation, but I accept your terms.” He lowered his head to hers and took her lips in a blistering kiss that left her in no doubt that he was going to use every weapon in his sexual arsenal to get her to change her mind.

  She was stronger now. No longer the bright-eyed twenty-year-old who thought that love was all that mattered. This was about sex. A physical release. A joining of two bodies. It wouldn’t change anything.

  Delusions were so comforting.

  Matteo swung her into his arms and took two steps toward the path back to the cottage.

  “Wait, what about all this stuff?” she asked. As much as she wanted to get lost in their passion, she had guests to think about. It wouldn’t do for them to come down to the beach tomorrow morning and find a mess.

  “Tony and Angela said they’d clear up.”

  “You knew the night was going to end this way?”

  A wicked smile creased his lips. “A man can dream. And plan. Now, I think it’s time you got out of that wet dress.”

  “My dress is wet?”

  He took another couple steps toward the path, intent on getting his woman where he wanted her.

  “Wait,” she said. He halted, but the look in his eyes said this was the last time. “I want my cheesecake. Something tells me I’m going to need the calories for later.”

  He laughed and lowered her to the sand so she could grab the dessert from the picnic basket. Inside, she found a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and a box she was sure held some of Angela’s handmade bonbons. She grabbed those items as well.

  Matteo loomed over her, obviously wondering what was taking her so long. She popped a strawberry in his mouth and then handed him the cheesecake and box of chocolates.

  “I was going to carry you,” he said around a mouthful of strawberry.

  “I know, but it will be much faster if we both walk.” To prove her point, she took his hand and marched off toward the cottage. Now that she’d made the decision to sleep with him, she wanted to get on with it. She had six years of pent-up frustration and about fourteen hours to release it.

  By the time they reached the cottage, they were both breathless. It could be because of the brisk pace or because every few minutes Matteo would step in front of her and ki
ss her until she swayed against him. The cheesecake took a battering, but she didn’t care.

  Her gaze swept over the farmyard, noting the animals all put away for the night and the dog guarding the paddock where the ewes slept huddled together. All that was left to do was . . . Matteo.

  Inside the cottage, the massage table had disappeared and the furniture was back in place. Matteo put the cake and confection down, and by the time he’d turned around she’d shimmied out of her dress.

  “What do you say we work on that water phobia of yours?”

  He was at her side in seconds, pulling his clothes off as he moved. She cranked the shower on to full hot, knowing lukewarm was all she could hope for. But she didn’t figure being cold was going to be an issue. She stepped beneath the spray to rinse some of the salt from her hair. Closing her eyes, she jumped a little as Matteo’s hard, naked body pressed against her.

  “Bella, as much as I want to make this memorable, I don’t think I’ll be able to last long the first time.” His voice was gravelly.

  “I don’t need memorable. I need hard and fast.” She pulled his head down to her chest, one of his hands already fondling her breast, the other teasing the curls at the top of her mound. Low moans and startled gasps filled the air as they reacquainted themselves with each other’s bodies.

  She sank to her knees and took him in her mouth. He flung his head back, the sound of his roar filling the tiny shower cubicle. “Don’t. I can’t. I want to be in you,” he said between short, drawn breaths.

  “All right.” She slid her body all the way up his, hooked her leg around his waist, then took him in her hand and rubbed the head of his erection against her opening. He caught her moan with an all-consuming kiss. As she teased him at her entrance, prolonging the pleasure for them both, he wrenched his mouth from hers.

  “Are you still on the pill? If not, I need a condom.”

  She was glad his brain still worked, because she hadn’t given a thought to contraception. “No. But this one time . . . ” Her period had ended the day before he’d turned up. She should be safe.