CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The sun’s rays dipped into the waves tinging the waves blood red and Sapphire watched the sunset from the kitchen in a haze of uncertainty. She didn’t want to turn around and see Marco Cavarelli, her boss, cooking dinner for them both, a tea towel fastened around his waist as he wielded a sharp knife and opened cupboards to find utensils and saucepans. That in itself was surreal, but added to the mix was a hint of anticipation in the air that set her heart thumping.
Marco had put his arm around her shoulders and taken her hand on the walk back to the cottage, burrowing it in his own pocket to keep her warm. He had asked her if she was okay with it. She was more than okay, but she was terribly confused too – wondering what exactly she had signed up for, with the simple yes as he had enclosed his warm hand over hers.
She thought about the dinner they’d had with Tom Edwards from Hopper, when Marco appeared to change his persona in no more than a snap of the fingers – being all attentive and charming towards her one minute and then dismissing her the next. Was he doing the same thing again, as if she was a pawn in a game of chess, easily dispatched when her time was up?
She’d had little experience of the opposite sex, growing up where she had, and the few forays she had made into dating had been pretty disastrous. Falling for Marco could be even more disastrous – she could lose her job and therefore her tiny apartment that she loved so much. Her situation was fast becoming a ticking bomb that might detonate unless she deactivated it; if that was what she wanted to do.
‘Would you like to open the wine, Sapphire?’ Marco asked as he set plates and cutlery on the table. There was no hint of sarcasm, but still she felt the reproach, imagined or not. She took out the chilled wine and pulled the cork. It looked surprisingly inviting and she trailed her finger down the bottle as a mist of condensation formed on the outside.
Marco was suddenly behind her, his own finger sliding up the bottle to meet hers. ‘Sapphire, can we talk freely?’
She continued to stare at the bottle as the condensation turned into water and dripped down the side. ‘Are you suggesting a Marco special conversation – you know, the one where I tell you all of my secrets and you tell me nothing?’ Her heartbeat quickened as their fingers met, but she turned to him defiantly; she was not going to be fooled again. His face was closer to hers than she had realised and her breath rushed out of her lungs in surprise.
He touched her cheek, hesitantly. ‘Well?’
She took a step backwards, although his gentle tone was encouraging. ‘It depends.’ She poured two glasses of wine and passed one to Marco, giving him a warning look not to comment. She took a hefty swig from her glass, coughed and thumped her chest. ‘Wow, that’s a bit strong.’
‘You’re not supposed to knock it back like water, you know.’ He looked reproving and she set her glass down. She took another sip and smiled. ‘It’s good. A lot better than the wine I had in Florence.’
Marco narrowed his eyes. ‘Why choose Florence?’
‘It was the last time I tasted wine. If I’m honest, I thought it was so disgusting it would put me off for life, but I am pleasantly surprised.’
Marco sipped at his wine before placing his glass on the kitchen table and sitting down. She sat down opposite him, until he steepled his fingers and leaned forward.
‘Just don’t, okay.’ She made to stand up again, recognising the action.
‘I haven’t done anything.’
‘You’re working up to a speech, I can tell.’
He waved for her to sit back down. ‘I just wanted to say that I no longer believe you have an alcohol problem – I got it so wrong.’
‘Good. I don’t usually drink at all.’ She returned to her seat, sitting on the edge, hesitantly. ‘I drink apple juice and tea, mostly. Ask Finbar. Apple juice is good for Alzheimer’s, apparently.’ She ignored Marco’s eyebrows quirking and his puzzled look. ‘That night at your hotel – it was all Rick’s fault,’ she said.
‘Rick?’ Marco’s brows lifted higher, but she ignored him, lost in her unhappy memories. She’d hoped she would never have to think about Rick again; he’d caused her nothing but trouble, but finally she had a chance to explain. ‘The day I met you, I turned up to a hotel in Florence to surprise my boyfriend, which is another road I don’t want to travel down. Suffice to say, I was the one in for a surprise as he was in bed with another woman.’
Marco winced and lifted his wine glass to his lips, but set it back on the table, saying, ‘That’s tough.’
‘I’d never thought about drinking alcohol before – it was something that never reared its head in the convent; it was miles away from anywhere, the nuns didn’t drink, and we were all led to believe in a vague way that alcohol was sinful. Some of the Catholics even took the pledge, where you vow not to drink alcohol, which was a bit pointless, ’cos they couldn’t have laid their hands on any booze if they’d wanted to.
‘But in Florence I felt the need to purge the pain and didn’t exactly realise that Grappa combined with wine and no food was not the ideal combination for staying upright. I’ve never had a chance to explain properly as you always caught me on the hop and made me defensive.’
Marco’s eyes widened. ‘So, all of this time –’
‘You’ve been pissing me off, yes.’
‘I owe you an apology.’ He lifted up his glass of wine. ‘A large one.’
‘Well, don’t think I’m going to make you feel better over it – you were the one to jump to conclusions.’
Marco took a large sip of his wine. ‘Would you like to try some more wine? I can tell you what to look for in a good bottle, if you want,’ he said, nodding towards the bottle.
‘Dunno.’ She shrugged. ‘I guess. Although I don’t suppose it will be something I’ll ever put into practice. We pretty much have a choice of cheap red or cheap white on our aircraft, apart from the horrendously overpriced champagne we give to our VIPs.’ She picked up the bottle and studied the label. ‘Nope, haven’t a clue what they’re on about. Hints of vanilla and blackberries. Are they joking?’
‘No. Although I agree, it sounds totally pretentious. You just need to take your time and appreciate the flavours.’
Sapphire put the bottle back on the table. ‘Hang on, we haven’t dealt with the other bit yet: the bit where I propositioned you. Wouldn’t you like to get that one out of the way, just so we can start afresh with a clean slate?’
Marco chuckled. ‘You were very sexy, even when drunk.’
‘Yeah, right.’
‘You were.’ He smiled, topped up their wine glasses and then sighed. ‘Can I tell you something that hopefully will explain my behaviour to a degree?’ He took a gulp of his wine and fixed his gaze on her face. ‘My wife, who was my soulmate for most of my life, had an affair. I was crazy in love with her and forgave her, believing that marriage was for life, but it seems that the other man, Nicolas, was a drug she could not live without. I was hoping she would return to me, but now … I don’t think I want her back.’ He sighed. ‘When she left, I turned into someone even I could not bear to live with, and I regret wasting too much time being miserable and bitter.’
‘Oh, Marco, I’m sorry for what happened to you.’ She paused. ‘While we’re being honest, can I just tell you that I’ve never propositioned another man in my life and I have no clue why I did what I did.’
‘Three double Grappa’s and two glasses of wine in the space of half an hour, I would suggest.’ Marco’s eyebrows drew together giving him a fierce expression, but his eyes were bright.
‘Thanks for that. It certainly couldn’t have been your natural charm that spurred me on, could it?’
Marco winced. ‘I guess I deserved that one, but I don’t think you have seen anything of the real me, Sapphire, although I am hoping that I have turned a difficult corner.’
‘Would you mind telling me what we actually did on that night, Marco? I am more than a little vague on the particulars.’
‘Well, that’s my ego taking another bashing. You can’t remember that we kissed?’
‘I thought we did, but it’s a bit fuzzy around the edges.’
‘Can you remember almost strangling me with my tie when you tried to kiss me at the bar?’
Sapphire giggled. ‘Did I really? God, how embarrassing.’
‘Your powers of seduction did improve later, when you took your dress off.’
Sapphire put her hand to her brow and closed her eyes. ‘Stop. I don’t want to hear any more.’
Marco was relieved as he didn’t particularly want to have to tell her that his hands had roamed around her bottom and that he had enjoyed the kiss, wanted more. His groin tightened at the memory and he groaned silently. He should have known that the fates had already decided his future as soon as he entered her room.
‘So, we’re straight now, no more secrets?’ Sapphire asked, tentatively.
‘Not quite.’
‘How do you mean?’
Marco raked his fingers through his hair and took another large gulp of his wine.
‘You’d have been appalled if I did that,’ she said.
‘You’re right.’ He took another swig as Sapphire watched, warily.
He pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the window staring at the view for a second before turning back to Sapphire. ‘So, if I … we … I don’t know, dated or something? What do you think?’ Marco pinned his eyes on her face, waiting.
‘Please, don’t ask me that unless you are deadly serious.’
‘I am serious. How do you feel about it? We are being honest, aren’t we?’ His gaze was unrelenting and Sapphire fixed her attention on her wine glass. She was hearing what she’d longed to hear, but now – she wasn’t so sure. She was unable to meet his eyes as she spoke.
‘Then, being honest, I would say it’s not a good idea. You should be with someone of your own ilk, someone who knows how to ski and look wiltingly gorgeous draped across the deck of a yacht.’
‘I really shouldn’t, you know. Don’t you think I’ve tried that?’
‘Yes. According to Finbar, you’ve tried it lots of times, with lots of women.’
He sighed. ‘Well, I’ve already told you the truth about that – and anyway, what does he know? Most of the stuff in the magazines is made up.’ He shook his head, as if baffled to know what to say next. ‘Sapphire, I booked this place with the intention of being alone with you. I had no ulterior motives, but I knew you were good for my soul and I wanted to remind myself of how I used to be.’
She eyed him warily. ‘And is it working?’
He took a step forward. ‘Yes. So far. There is nothing that I don’t like about you, apart from your tendency to sulk and get stroppy of course. Even your hair, when you’ve just got out of bed, is cute.’
‘Back-handed compliment if ever I heard one. And you noticed my bed-hair. I was praying you’d be too focused on my dreadful bunny pyjamas to notice my hair.’
‘Your hair is beautiful, just like you.’ He leaned down to where she was seated, lifted up her chin with his thumb and very gently lowered his lips to hers. This time he wasn’t in a befuddled state of sleep and he noticed every sensation she aroused in him, from tenderness to a sweet desire. Her lips were as soft and velvety as he’d imagined and his need hitched up a notch as she reciprocated the kiss, firm and insistent, breathing out on a small moan. He stepped back and surveyed her. ‘The rabbit pyjamas, however, were a trifle – odd.’
She laughed. ‘But so cosy.’ She hesitated. ‘So, you’re not testing me?’ Her eyes were trusting and shining with ardour, and suddenly he knew no more explanations were needed.
‘No, I’m not testing you.’ He pulled her up from her chair and folded her into his arms, gave her a serious look and kissed her again. He released her, saying, ‘But what if I were?’ His grin was mischievous.
‘Then I’ll try my hardest not to enjoy what you are doing to me.’ She angled herself away from him, pretending to distance herself from his touch.
But he held her tight. ‘Don’t even bother. You’re going nowhere.’ He ran his hands down to her waist and murmured something in Italian, his eyes burning in their intensity as he moved to kiss her once more.
Her heart beat faster and a surge of heat shafted through her core and down to her groin as his lips met hers. She had never been kissed the way Marco kissed her, full of longing and care, deepening with the urgency of a man who knew what he wanted. She melted instantly into his arms as he pressed his body into hers.
A ringing set up in the kitchen and Marco pulled away. ‘The blasted timer. The Scallops Florentine are cooked.’
‘Saved by the bell?’ She moved on shaky legs, half hoping that Marco would ignore the timer and continue kissing her, while she still had the courage of her convictions.
But he breathed out, letting her go as suddenly as he’d drawn her to his chest. He ran his fingers through his hair in agitation, glancing over at her, his expression troubled.
She bit her lip, feeling as abandoned as a lost kitten. Had he changed his mind already?
He walked into the kitchen, donned a pair of oven gloves and indicated towards the table. ‘We should eat.’
‘We should.’ She smiled as brightly as she could manage and sat down, glad to relieve her shaking legs. Her mouth had dried from the adrenalin rush and her hands were unsteady as she laid out plates and cutlery. She would try to behave normally, as if she hadn’t just been struck dumb with the magnitude of Marco’s kisses. Marco, after all, didn’t appear to be thunderstruck by her attempt at kissing him.
Although the scallops were clearly cooked to perfection, she had difficulty swallowing, as a lump had formed in her throat and she felt she might cry. Marco probably didn’t realise she was hurt by his abrupt rebuff, but she felt as if he called all the shots and could pick her up or drop her at will. Her lip curled as she wondered if he behaved that way all of the time. So much for resisting him; she really should have tried harder.
Marco ceremoniously dished up the steaks, adding mushrooms, tiny new potatoes and salad. Once again, the food was delicious, but the atmosphere, which was intensified by the music that played softly in the background and the lit candles that added a soft glow of intimacy, was strained.
Sapphire couldn’t think of a single thing to say, although her mind was full to bursting with questions.
‘Everything okay?’ Marco asked, as he topped up her wine glass.
‘Yes, it’s delicious.’
‘It’s just that you don’t look as if you are enjoying it.’
‘It’s lovely, thank you.’ She eyed the full wineglass, deciding that she wouldn’t drink anymore as she wanted to keep a clear head.
‘How about we go for that walk now the weather has cleared?’
‘Yes. It was rather inclement earlier, wasn’t it?’ She eyed him, hoping he would join in with her weak joke, but he showed no sign of remembering their Edinburgh conversation about the weather and haggis.
It was ridiculous, only half an hour ago he’d kissed her with a passion she had only dreamt of, and yet now they were discussing the weather as if they were strangers on a bus. She glanced at Marco to see if he was faring better than she was.
He sipped his wine and looked at her over the rim of his glass, his eyes dark and brooding. Then he set down his wineglass and she waited for the backtracking she was totally expecting.
‘Sapphire, this is proving to be more difficult than I ever imagined. I thought I could enjoy a relaxing few days here with you, as a pleasurable diversion to the problems I face every day, but I am finding it harder than I thought. This,’ he waved a hand in the air, indicating the room, the food, their intimacy, ‘is exactly how I envisaged us spending our time here, but I wasn’t expecting to feel …’ He shook his head, peered down at his food and picked up his knife and fork again, but showed no inclination to continue eating.
‘To feel …?’
‘Exactly. To feel.’ Marco nodded his head and looked thoughtful.
‘Marco, I don’t know what you are trying to say.’
He sighed heavily and a dense silence stretched between them. Sapphire felt her cheeks heating up as he stared at her.
She laid her knife and fork down. She couldn’t eat another morsel. Her throat closed with anxiety but she met his gaze, level and unswerving.
He placed his knife and fork together decisively on his plate and raised his hands, palms upwards. ‘I don’t know what to do for the best. My thoughts demand that I do the honourable thing, but my body is telling me otherwise.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Should we go for that walk, do you think?’ He smiled ruefully, but his eyes pierced hers.
Sapphire stared back, biting her lip. It was his call.
He slapped the table decisively. ‘Come on.’ He stood up, walked over to the porch to collect his coat and picked up his scarf, winding it around Sapphire’s neck with a flourish as she stood up to join him.
‘I can dress myself, Marco,’ Sapphire protested, pulling at the scarf.
‘Humour me,’ he said, as he yanked her new hat firmly down past her eyebrows.
‘And now I can’t see,’ she said, pushing the hat away from her eyes.
‘I’m keeping you warm.’ His eyes twinkled and her heart jolted at his smile, which was still rare enough for her to want to whip out her sketchpad and ask him to hold the pose.
She breathed out. It was going to be okay.
Unsurprisingly, as they walked she could only focus on the thrilling sensation of Marco’s fingers entwined with hers, the texture of his skin, his scent, his masculinity – all the time her mind frantically trying to take in his offer, wondering what was making him so indecisive.
She threw him glances, trying to read his thoughts as they walked along the edge of the shore and sat down on a sand dune, the waves whispering their way to the shoreline and rattling the stones before retreating with a sigh. It made her think how uncomplicated nature was, taking its course without the added bother of emotions, opinions and, in her case, tentative new love to cloud the issue.
Marco bumped her with his shoulder. ‘You’re on a different planet. Come back.’ He nudged her hat off and pushed her hair away from her face. ‘Lavender and sunshine – that’s how you smell.’ He lifted a hank of her hair and inhaled. ‘With a touch of starlight, maybe.’
Sapphire didn’t have a chance to reply, as Marco continued. ‘You have bewitched me, Sapphire Montrose, and I don’t know how you did it, because you are mostly a pain in the arse.’
‘No one has ever called me bewitching before; pain in the arse, yes, many times.’ She smiled up into his face, unresisting.
He allowed a lock of her hair to filter through his fingers as their eyes met. Instinctively she put her arm around his neck and kissed the corner of his mouth, right next to the dimple that only appeared when he smiled. He looked at her quizzically.
‘I’m trying to bring your dimple to life.’ She kissed the dimple that appeared as Marco smiled. ‘Right there.’
Marco caught her head in his hands and brought his lips down on hers, to deliver a kiss so sweet and gentle that she couldn’t help but believe his sincerity.
‘This is the real me, Sapphire, and I fully intend that you will mend my broken heart.’
‘That’s a heavy burden to lay on me, Marco, but as far as things are going at the moment, I think I like the real you, just fine.’ She pulled him towards her and kissed him right back, tasting and teasing until he pulled away.
He groaned and briefly closed his eyes. ‘It’s no good, I can’t resist you.’
She shivered as she felt his cool hand find a gap between her jumper and jeans. He trailed his hand upwards and explored the lace over the swell of her straining breasts. Delicious heat engulfed her whole body as Marco caressed her breasts, her nipples tightening at his touch. She groaned; she couldn’t help it. ‘Marco, what are we doing here?’
I don’t know about you, but I’m trying to turn you on, rather unsuccessfully, I fear. Damned jumper getting in the way of my seduction.’ He laughed as he plucked at the neck of the thick wool. ‘I’d make you take it off, but I don’t want to turn you into an icicle – although it would be a good excuse to warm you up again.’
Sapphire shivered with nerves and longing, but wished she felt less wary about this new Marco who presented himself. She feared his motives, and sometimes his mood swings were alarming. It was as if, with no more than a snap of the fingers, he’d decided she was to be his, and all inhibitions melted away under the force of it. She really wasn’t sure she would be up to muster, knowing how exacting his standards were – in or out of the bedroom, but she rather thought she was prepared to give it a try.
Marco slung an arm around her shoulders and said, ‘Let’s get back into the warm.’