CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sapphire and Marco returned to the cottage as darkness descended in a curtain of royal blue. Stars covered the sky in a magnificent display of sizes and patterns, and a silver moon lit their way up the path. The night was still and magical, and apart from the shushing of the waves, occasionally punctuated by a too-whit of an owl looking for its mate, a deep silence shrouded them.
The night sky filled Sapphire with awe as they stood outside, gazing upwards. ‘It’s such a strange colour blue, as if it’s illuminated from heaven. I thought I’d never see a sky as magical as the one back home and yet here we are, witnessing another miracle.’ She sighed with contentment.
‘No air pollution, I guess. The stars are so bright. What’s that constellation over there – that one with the huge star at its tip? You’re a bit of an expert on stars, aren’t you?’ Marco was smiling down at her, his tone gently mocking.
‘Why do you say that?’ She threw him a puzzled glance.
‘Because you have a star logbook full of constellations. I remember you telling me that the reason you visited my hotel was because of its huge domed glass roof.’
She grinned. ‘Well, that was a total lie, but I do happen to know a bit about stars. Over there is Orion, you can see the belt – but that’s an easy one.’
Marco laughed. ‘You actually do know. I’m impressed.’
‘I was taught how to navigate by the Southern Cross if I ever got lost. Mateo the gardener taught me. Over here, you just have to find the North Star, which is always above the North Pole, and it can guide you to your destination.’
‘Mateo the gardener? This is the first I have heard of him.’
‘He was Ava’s husband. He was really kind to Star when my father forbade me to ride him.’
‘Why did he forbid you to ride him?’
Sapphire shrugged. ‘He knew Star was my soft spot and thought he could control me through him. Basically, I think I just reminded him too much of my mother, so because he couldn’t punish her for leaving, he took it out on me.’
Marco slid his arm around her shoulders. ‘I think you are a wounded person, my lovely Sapphire Montrose, and I have done you a great disservice.’
‘You won’t be the last one, I don’t suppose.’ She shrugged indifferently.
‘I would like to think that no one will ever hurt you again.’ He drew her close to him. ‘Let’s go inside.’
He steered her in through the front door of the cottage, where they were instantly enveloped in fuggy warmth from the heat of the Aga. Marco lit the fire, handling logs and kindling with ease, impressing Sapphire with his practical skills. She busied herself by clearing up dishes and filling the kettle. Then she poured them each a glass of wine, feeling she, at least, might need fortifying and smiled at the irony of finally having convinced Marco that she didn’t drink, only to go and acquire a taste for it.
Marco rinsed his hands under the tap and dried them on a tea cloth once the fire was burning brightly. He turned to Sapphire, whose hand trembled as she lifted her glass to her lips. He threw the tea towel on the worktop and watched her, before running his fingers through his hair and letting out a breath.
‘Is this too much for you, Sapphire? Have I moved too fast? At the moment, you look more likely to bolt than one of those rabbits out the back if I mentioned the word pie.’ He chuckled softly, but his eyes were serious.
Sapphire let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. ‘I do want to … you know, Marco.’
His eyes levelled with hers. He took a step forward. ‘Spend the night with me?’
She nodded.
‘Then you won’t need this.’ He unfurled her fingers, which were practically welded to the stem of her glass, and lifted it out of her hand with a gentle smile. ‘This is not a test, Sapphire. There is no time limit, and there are no winners; we are just here to make each other happy.’
She nodded in agreement, but an inner trembling started at the core of her body. She was not ready for this – he was right. Marco was all-pervading, too much of a man, too much … her boss. She exhaled once more, ready to tell him that it was all a huge mistake. As she waivered, he traced his fingers over her arm in a small skating zigzag as he questioned her once again, his eyes steady on her face.
‘Sapphire?’
Fear filled her. She was nowhere near as beautiful as his skiing-at-Klosters woman, his model wife – or any number of the women who had, literally, passed through his hands and were plastered on the covers of the glossies. And she knew hardly a thing about successful lovemaking. She closed her eyes. ‘Oh, dear God, this shouldn’t be happening.’ Her eyes widened when she realised she’d uttered the words out loud.
Something changed in Marco’s demeanour. His eyes darkened and he squared his shoulders. He shook his head and the delicious circling of his fingertips stopped as he turned away from her. ‘If you feel that this is wrong in any way, then we must stop. I’m sorry, I moved too quickly. I think I just lost my head for a while.’
Sapphire let out a breath. She’d ruined it before they had even started.
He studied her for a moment longer and raised his fingers to her cheek. ‘But tomorrow is another day; we’ll see what it brings.’ He swept the room with a practised eye, took his empty wineglass over to the kitchen sink and pulled up a fireguard to the crackling fire. ‘Goodnight, Sapphire, and don’t worry about this. What will be, will be.’ He gave her a quick smile and disappeared through one of the doors as she watched in dismay.
It seemed, she would not, after all, be passing through the same door as Marco that night. She wanted to explain what she’d meant and that she still wanted him, but he was so formidable; fighting off a hyena was probably easier than trying to reason with him.
She stared at his bedroom door for a moment before wheeling her small suitcase, still sitting by the door, through to her room. Dragging out some clothes, she finally found her pyjamas. and undressed wearily, heaving her disenchanted body into her pyjamas, grateful for the flannelette warmth that didn’t quite match the heat of Marco’s touch but was a lot less troubling.
The bright moon shone through the fabric of the curtains and her bed seemed vast as she lay there on her own trying to clear her mind of unwanted thoughts. She turned onto her side and turned back again, staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster.
The waves crashed against the sea wall and the noise of churning pebbles seemed to increase by the second, the sound anything but soothing. A smattering of rain rattled the window and the distant boom of a particularly strong wave set Sapphire’s heart thumping. She pulled the pillow up around her ears but it didn’t help.
More awake than ever, she gave up trying to sleep and climbed out of bed to peep through the curtains. Her eyes widened in shock as waves lapped at the top of the sea wall, sea foam and spray darkening the cobblestones. Surely that couldn’t be normal? Fearfully, she stepped away from the window as if the waves might engulf her, there and then.
She rushed through to the sitting room to check the level of the sea from the bay windows, grabbing at a curtain and yanking it out of the way. The moon’s pale beams shivered on the glittering sea, the stars above looking like pinpoints of magic. She stilled and folded her arms as she gazed into the crystal-clear sky once again, caught up in the beauty of it. She scanned the room for her bag, found it and pulled out her sketchpad, drawing furiously – she was used to images disappearing in front of her, and curious eyes observing what she did not want them to see. She snapped the image on her phone so she could embellish the drawing later, when she was safely home.
Marco’s bedroom door creaked open and she shoved her sketchpad behind the curtain, tipping her charcoal pencil into a handy vase.
‘What’s wrong?’ Apart from the bare chest, Marco looked exactly as he had, when he’d swept through the door and Sapphire suspected that he too had been awake the whole time.
‘Oh. Sorry. Did I wake you?’ she whispered. ‘I was a bit worried that the waves are lapping over the sea wall. Do you think that’s normal?’
Marco peered out of the window, squinting against the reflection on the window. ‘Have you ever lived by the sea?’
‘No. I didn’t even see the sea until I was twenty, apart from a bird’s-eye view from an aeroplane window. Why?’
He tapped the wall nearest to him. ‘Well, this cottage is over two-hundred years old and I really don’t think tonight will be the night it comes tumbling around our ears.’
‘Okay. Good.’ She hopped from one numb foot to the other, realising the cold stone floor had taken its toll, now that she was out of her drawing trance. ‘If you’re sure,’ she added, throwing a suspicious look at the creeping tide as if it would sneak up on her the minute she turned her back.
Heat radiated from Marco, who stood so close to her she could smell the special scent that was Marco Cavarelli. His chest looked very inviting too: broad and solid, and just right for resting her head on, if he would only put his arm, reassuringly, around her shoulders. But it seemed that any kind of contact was now out of bounds. Instead of folding her into his arms he just asked, in a loud stage whisper, ‘Why are you whispering?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t mean to wake you.’ She stared at the rising tide to stop herself from checking out Marco’s naked torso again.
But Marco had no such qualms. ‘So, I get to see the bunny pyjamas again, after all.’ He studied her in return, by the light of the moon.
‘Yeah.’ She looked down at her pyjamas. She really should be better equipped for this grown-up world she found herself in. ‘At least they’re warm.’ She couldn’t find any other redeeming features to the faded flannelette pyjamas she’d had since she was a teenager, no matter how long they both stared at the gambolling pink and blue rabbits.
‘They’re cute.’
‘Thank you.’ She dragged her gaze away from Marco’s chest, finally looking at his face. His smile was kind, sincere and warm – which, considering the temperature, was quite a feat.
‘This is not my idea of fun, you know, staring out of a window in the cold.’ He didn’t take his eyes off her.
‘Sorry.’ She threw another wary look out of the window and back to Marco, resisting the urge to whip out her pencil from its hiding place, as the moon shafted shards of luminous light on his normally dark eyes. She would be happy to watch moonbeams dance across his face all night, be even happier to trace their path as they danced over his cheek.
He cut across her thoughts, his voice soft and regretful. ‘For the record, I have decided to take a back seat in Hot Air Aviation, so your position will not be compromised.’ He smiled briefly, but his eyes remained sad.
It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. ‘You’re going back to Italy?’
‘As soon as possible. I find I am rather homesick.’
Sapphire stared out at the sea. She would never see him again. His name would become a signature on the bottom of a letter, mentioned in passing as a faceless manager. Her voice was faint. ‘Don’t leave. I’ve only just found you.’ She took his hand, holding on tight as she faced him.
‘I thought –’
‘I know … I thought it too, but I was wrong. I was just too scared to allow my emotions a free reign.’ Her words rushed out in a tumble of truths as she fixed her eyes on his, begging him to understand, not to turn her away.
And he didn’t. He folded her hand into his and wrapped his other hand on top of it.
Their eyes locked. She knew hers were brimming with longing, love even, and his own hooded eyes darkened and narrowed as he angled his head, questioning. He lifted his hand up to her face, brushing her cheek lightly. ‘You are so beautiful in the moonlight, Sapphire. I don’t know how I ever thought you were just a skinny wench.’
‘Thank you – I think.’ She pulled a face. Marco was half naked, clasping her fingers in his hand, an unmistakable heat of desire burning in his eyes, and she was wearing the biggest passion killers in the whole world – but, at that moment, it was as if they had finally found a mutual place to move forward.
As the moonlight lit up their faces, Marco’s fingers trailed over her jawline, tilting her face to meet his. ‘Shall we leave King Canute to turn the tide?’ He tugged at her hand. ‘He’ll keep you safe from the sea and I’ll keep you out of the cold.’
He raised his eyebrows and angled his head towards his bedroom. ‘If you’d like me too.’ He waited, unmoving.
She nodded. ‘Yes, please.’
She trailed behind him into the bedroom, blocking out her inner fears as Marco threw back the duvet cover, climbed in and pulled her down next to him. He folded her into his body in one easy motion and murmured into her ear, ‘We will both sleep better now, I think.’
Her body fitted effortlessly into his, as if she’d found where she belonged. He was so warm, so male – and so unnervingly close.
She felt his breath close to her ear, heard him inhale and groan quietly. ‘Go to sleep,’ he said, loosening his hold on her. He turned away from her, dragging his pillow with him.
She stiffened. Why had he turned away? Was she so totally out of bounds now? She confronted his bare back and lifted her hand to trace his skin, noting another cute mole. ‘Marco?’
He sighed and turned back to face her. They were so close they could almost bump noses. He stilled and his eyes sought out hers in the darkness. He ran a hand down the length of her body, ending at her thigh. ‘Goddammit, Sapphire – if we start this, I might never want to let you go.’
Her body core notched up several degrees at the throatiness in his voice and there was no mistaking his meaning, although his words were hardly endearing. ‘So, do you think it would be better if we didn’t stick to the original plan?’ Her words stuttered out as she acknowledged that she was, once again, propositioning Marco. If he turned her down she would die of shame.
‘The original plan?’
‘Where we said, we wouldn’t … err.’
Marco wound a strand of Sapphire’s hair around his finger as he studied her. ‘I thought the original plan was where we would, err …? Wasn’t it the plan after that where we said we wouldn’t … err?’ He hitched himself up on his elbow and looked down at her. His eyes gleamed in the gloom and she caught a flash of white teeth as he smiled. She felt disadvantaged, but strangely calm and trusting.
She ran her fingertips over the fine dark hairs that covered his chest, hesitant at first, then more confident, tracing the rivulet of hair between his rib cage and down lower to his abdomen.
He drew in a breath and the twinkle in his eyes disappeared, quickly replaced by a spark of something more intense. ‘I don’t think you should do that – if we are planning on sticking to plan number two.’ After a moment of allowing her to trail her fingers lower, he wrapped his fingers over hers and caught them in his own.
They held hands in this way as they both took in the measure of their position, questioning and answering each other with their eyes.
‘If we did want to revert to the first plan, would I have to tell you that I was happy with the idea?’ Sapphire gazed back at him with big eyes, her heart thumping, knowing that there would be no return from her decision.
‘I think I’ll get the gist of it, if you carry on doing what you are doing.’ He traced a finger over her lips and she parted them slightly. The pad of his finger traced the fullness of her bottom lip and heat flared from her lips straight to her groin.
His fingers trailed past her neck and down her chest, where her flannelette pyjamas were buttoned right the way up. Very slowly, he undid the top button as she breathed in, readying her mind to make love with Marco. What had he said a long time ago? He expected some kind of reciprocation when he made love to a woman? That was normal, wasn’t it? That’s what two people did.
The part where it became much more complicated was that she was dealing with her boss and she would have to face him in the morning, when he would still be her boss. ‘About the tricky business of you being my employer, does that matter too much, do you think? I know you weren’t too keen on the idea.’
Marco kissed her throat, his lips trailing lower to the swell of her breasts, his fingers already undoing the next button of her pyjamas. ‘I think you should leave that problem to me, Sapphire.’
‘Okay.’ Her voice was small as she surrendered herself to Marco, a delicious heat flooding her entire body as his fingers brushed her skin in their quest to undo all of the buttons on her pyjama top.
Tentatively, she laced her fingers through his dark hair, realising that she’d wanted to touch it since the day she’d spotted the damp curls sitting on his neck at the first-aid course.
He raised his head and she met his lips with a sureness she had never felt before. It seemed so right that they fit together, and when he slid her top over her shoulders she settled into the warmth of the bed, prepared to abandon herself to whatever the night brought.
Marco stopped in his tracks. ‘You suddenly seem very sure of your decision.’
‘I trust you, Marco.’
‘Good, you should.’ He traced her cheek with his finger and lifted a tendril of hair, kissing it gently. ‘And you are sure about this?’ He breathed deeply as he trickled her hair through his fingers.
She nodded, the light of the moon picking up her action. He seemed to accept this and pulled her towards him, intertwining his legs with hers and simply holding her. She could feel her heart beating too fast against his chest, but slowly, when she was used to the feel of his skin next to hers, she calmed down. ‘Kiss me again, Marco, I need to know this is really happening.’
‘Any time, Cara Mia.’ His lips met hers and she gasped as he found her breast and allowed his fingers to trace the contours of her nipple. Her breath hitched higher as his fingers trailed lower to her waist and inside her pyjama bottoms, holding the roundness of her bottom with his palms as he kissed her, pulling her ever closer, his erection hard against her thigh. She knew there was no turning back now. Not that she wanted to; she just felt shy and inexperienced, and prayed it wouldn’t show.
But she forgot her worries as Marco’s lips trailed lower, until they found her nipple and he took it in his mouth, his tongue teasing, his warm lips sending her pulse rocketing. He pushed her pyjama bottoms down and she wriggled out of them as Marco’s fingers slid around to explore the folds of her body, drawing out gasps of pleasure as she clutched his shoulders.
She held him close, shyly touching the soft down of his chest hair and then lower, her fingers enjoying his firm muscles, until finally she allowed herself to reach out for him, feeling him tense and then pull away.
‘Wait there, I’m just going to my washbag,’ Marco said.
Sapphire raised her eyebrows.
‘Condoms,’ he mouthed.
‘Ah.’ God, she was so dumb – contraception hadn’t even crossed her mind.
‘Faster than the speed of light.’ Marco kissed her nose and slid out of bed.