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Payton’s head jerked up, heat suffusing her face. The caressing note in his voice knocked her off balance nearly as much as what he’d said.
“Shh,” she hushed him, indicating the girls sitting at the table eating scoops of chocolate and vanilla ice cream.
He shrugged. “They’re focused on other things.”
“Still.”
“Still what?”
He’d leaned forward and his voice had dropped an octave. He was doing something to her, stirring her senses, not to mention her imagination. “You shouldn’t say such things.”
Marco reached over, borrowed her spoon for a taste of her coffee flavored ice cream. “Why not?”
He looked up at her, dark eyes hot, interest shimmering. “It’s true.”
CHAPTER NINE
RETURNING from town, they all cooled off with a swim. Then Pietra put the girls down for a nap and Marco and Payton lingered at the pool.
As Marco stretched out on a towel in the sun, Payton settled in a chaise with a book. Yet as she stared at the page, the words didn’t penetrate her brain. She sat rereading the same paragraph for the third time, thinking about everything but the novel.
It struck her that she’d been so focused on doing the right thing for the girls, keeping it all together for the family, she’d forgotten some of her needs had nothing to do with the world at large.
Some of her needs had absolutely nothing to do with duty, responsibility, or maturity.
Being around Marco was making her feel—even if she didn’t want to feel. For the first time in ages she was aware of the old heat and fire, the whisper of want that Marco stirred inside of her.
She had expected the trip to Italy would drain her, deplete her. She’d expected anger and pain, frustration and regret, and while she’d felt some of that, she also felt more. She felt warmth. Fullness. Security. Perhaps the fullness and warmth wouldn’t last forever, but it was reassuring to find it again.
It was rather wonderful to feel something intense and tangible again.
“It’s getting hot,” Marco said, rising. His body gleamed with perspiration, each hard muscle in his flat abdomen distinct.
She felt a ripple of desire in her middle, an attraction that wasn’t just physical but emotional. Even if she wanted to ignore him, she couldn’t. She felt him always, was aware of him always. It was almost as if she’d been wired from birth to know him.
To feel him.
To want him.
And she did want him, very much so. The intensity of her feelings scared her.
He dived back into the pool and she watched him swim laps. He was a good swimmer with a strong effective stroke and he covered the pool quickly, doing a dozen laps freestyle before flipping over and swimming another dozen on his back.
He pulled up at the end of the pool, not far from her chair and gave his head a toss, shaking the water from his hair. “Why would you take the girls for your haircut?” he asked, leaning on the pool’s edge.
“Why wouldn’t I? They’ve always gone with me to my hair appointments.”
“Yes, but to cut your hair all the way off? It’s pretty drastic.”
“Chemo is pretty drastic.”
“I’ve never known anyone who has gone through chemo.”
Payton gave up all pretense of reading and tossed her book aside. “I’ve seen more of it than I ever wanted to see. It can save a life, but it’s hard on the body. My mom’s hair fell out in huge clumps. One day she had a head of hair. The next strands began to fall out. By the end of the week she’d had to shave her head.”
“So you thought if you cut your hair short now, it wouldn’t be such a overwhelming change later.”
“Yes.”
He nodded slowly. “These next six months will be very difficult on you, won’t they?”
“Very,” she agreed softly.
He looked up, smiled at her and yet his expression in his eyes was somber. “Then I say we enjoy every minute of our time here so we both go home with unforgettable memories.”
Her heart lurched a bit. Time seemed so short. She’d never felt so mortal. “That sounds great.”
“Let’s start with dinner in Capri tonight,” he said, toweling off. “I’ll make some reservations at a little place I like and this evening will be for just you and me.”
Marco waited outside by the taxi as Payton kissed the girls good night. He could see the twins hugging Payton, their arms wrapped tight around her waist. They absolutely adored her. And Payton was so good with them. She was firm and yet fun at the same time. She knew how to handle Gia’s high spirits and Liv’s sensitive nature.
Please, God, don’t let anything happen to Payton.
She was heading his way now and he admired her casual yet chic elegance. She was wearing a beaded camisole—tiny black beaded flowers over delicate white silk—and black velvet slacks that sat low on her hips, the pant legs slightly flared. Her pale shoulders were bare and she wore high strappy sandals. It was a great look for her.
She had incredible style. Marilena knew how to dress, he thought, but Payton had fire.
Yet as Payton reached the taxi he saw her blue eyes were wet and her black lashes stuck together black and spikey.
He put his hand on her back. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”
Payton looked at him, and tried to smile yet her full lips quivered and she couldn’t mask her emotion. “It’s nothing. I’m just thinking too much.”
She caught a glimpse of the girls still standing Pietra on the villa’s front steps with Pietra and she lifted her hand in a final wave. “I want to have forever with them,” she said, struggling to hold back fresh tears. “I want to be well and strong and a good mother always.”
He drew her against him, held her in his arms. “We’ll get you well, I promise.”
“But what if chemo doesn’t work?” Her voice came out muffled. “What if I’m not there for them as they grow up? I can’t bear it, Marco, I can’t.”
She shuddered and then drew a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” Lifting her head she forced a watery smile. “We better go before I really scare the girls.”
Marco was silent in the car and Payton felt worn out before the night had even begun. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and he looked very grave and preoccupied.
“I don’t know why I fell apart,” she said, her voice still husky. “Everything was fine. I was actually feeling very happy.”
“You’re going to beat this, Payton,” he said, reaching over and taking her hand. “You’re strong. Much stronger than you think.”
“But if I don’t, I know the girls will be fine with you.”
His hand squeezed hers. “No. They need you. They’ll always need you. So dammit, fight, Payton. Beat this. You have to.”
“I intend to.”
The restaurant was in the middle of town, flanking the charming Piazzetta. They were seated at an outside table in the colonnaded courtyard and strands of white lights were strung above the courtyard and candles glowed on each table.
The menu made Payton’s mouth water. Ravioloi all’ Annibale—ricotta and herb stuffed ravilois served with butter, sage and parmesan cheese. Penne alla Cantinella—pasta with aubergines, tomato and mozzarella.
“I’m really hungry tonight,” she said, closing the menu. “I want one of everything!”
“Go ahead.”
She laughed. “You’d have to roll me out of here.”
“So what? At least you would have had a good time.”
The warmth and intensity in his eyes made her breath catch. If only it had been like this when they were married. If only they could have been friends before they were lovers. “Thank you, Marco.”
He set his menu aside. “And what have I done?”
Her hands lifted. “This,” she said, gesturing to the night, the pretty lights, the festive atmosphere around them. “This is wonderful, Marco. This is really special. This time with you, with the girls, it helps more tha
n you know.”
“I think you’re wonderful—”
“No.”
“You are. You’ve an amazing attitude, Payton. You’ve a beautiful heart. And somehow you still manage to look sensational, too.”
A knot formed in Payton’s throat. When he complimented her, and looked at her with such warmth in his eyes, she felt fizzy on the insides. Felt ridiculously giddy and happy, almost like the night at the Trussardi’s when he asked her to dance.
The night at the Trussardis had been just as magical. After dancing they’d gone outside to have a drink and they talked for an hour straight. When he offered her a ride home, she accepted without a second thought. It had never crossed her mind to seduce him. It hadn’t crossed her mind that they’d even kiss.
But he did kiss her, he kissed her on her doorstep after he’d walked her to the entry of her pension. The small light above their heads attracted moths and the moths flit and flickered and Marco bent his head and covered her mouth with his and—magic
