She closed her eyes and willed her thrashing heart to still.
Gennaro woke instantly after the least refreshing sleep of his life. His willpower was such that it controlled his sleep too, and he was in the exact same position as when he’d first got into bed. Luisa, though, had moved. It was the first thing he sensed, before he even opened his eyes. There had been a huge gulf between them when he’d climbed in, both positioning themselves as close to the edge of their respective sides as was practicable without falling out. Though not so much as a strand of her hair touched him, shefeltcloser. Close enough for the arousal he’d spent the night fighting to uncoil into his loins.
Gritting his teeth, he slipped stealthily out of the bed and headed into the bathroom without looking at her.
Showered, a towel around his waist, he opened the door slowly. All he could see of her was the top of her glossy dark brown hair poking out of the top of the sheets she’d cocooned herself in.
He dressed quickly and, in the same stealth mode that he’d climbed out of the bed with, left the suite.
After the worst sleep of her life, Luisa knew before she opened her eyes that she was alone in the bed and that Gennaro had gone. At some point while she’d slept, she’d rolled over and moved close to the centre of the bed. She could only hope she’d done that after he’d left the suite.
Her chest too tight for relief that he’d gone, she draggedherself into the bathroom and was assailed with the scent of Gennaro’s shower gel and cologne.
He was everywhere, she thought miserably, even in his absence.
He always had been.
She’d spotted him in Florence once, in her art school days. She’d been enjoying an al fresco lunch with her boyfriend inPiazza della Signoriawhen he’d suddenly appeared from nowhere, strolling in her direction with his phone glued to his ear and shades on his face. Her heart had never gone from a gentle trot to a full-blown canter at such speed before.
The closer he’d got to her, the harder her heart had beaten and the stronger the sickness that had set off in her belly.
If it had been his brother she would have hurried over to say hello, but it had been Gennaro, the man who’d frightened and unsettled her since she was old enough to think.
He’d walked past, getting to within three feet of her, without noticing her.
She’d followed him with her eyes until he’d been out of sight and then found herself unable to eat another bite. She’d carried the sickness in her belly for days. For the rest of her time at art school, she’d been incapable of walking anywhere in the Renaissance city without her eyes searching for him, but she’d never seen him again. Not until he’d turned up at her parents’ home with his proposal.
By the time she’d dressed and thrown a black coffee down her throat, it was closer to lunch than breakfast, but her stomach was as tight as her chest and in no need of food.
She must have sent him a hundred messages over the course of their marriage – it was a habit they’d formed, probably because it saved either of them having to talk to the other – but this was the first she’d written with trembling fingers.
Where are you? Do you want me to joinyou?
His reply came promptly.
Join your family. I’m busy.
“Fuck you,” she muttered under her breath, but his terse response was exactly what she needed to galvanise her.
Only six more sleeps and she would never have to deal with the arsehole and her confusing feelings for him again. Thank God their last sleep would be in separate beds.
Outside, the sky was blue and the sun warm. Guests were sunbathing around the pool, and she smiled and waved and hailed greetings as she passed them, even the disgusting Esposito patriarch and two of his disgusting sons.
She spotted Gennaro at a table in the bar area on the other side of the pool, deep in conversation with his brother. With her shades on, she could pretend she hadn’t noticed him, and she carried on her way into the main section of the hotel where her sister and parents had been roomed without missing a step.
It was in the lobby that she saw Dante bounding down the circular staircase. “Darling!” he hailed when he spotted her, and pulled her into an embrace. “Sorry, I can’t stay – I thought my business emergency had been dealt with, but…” He shook his head ruefully.
“You’re leaving again?”
“I will be back in time for the wedding.”
“That long?” she said, not hiding her disappointment. Luisa had a secretly held dream that Dante would fall in love with Marisa, had been planning to play matchmaker that week. Yes, the man was a playboy, but he had a good heart and most playboys settled down eventually. Just because Luisa was seemingly destined to live her life a born-again virgin didn’t mean Marisa had to, and she feared that if her sister didn’t come out of her shell soon, she’d never find her way out of it. Luisa had at least had one lover, even if he had been boring and had done nothing for her in the bedroom. Marisa hadn’t even had that.
“I’m afraid so. If you’re looking for your family, I just saw your parents go into the bistro.”
“Thank you.”
He kissed her cheeks and then bounded out of the hotel without looking back.