‘This is my local Italian,’ said Rory as they neared the restaurant, ‘and, in my opinion, it serves the best Italian food in London.’ Fantoni’s was written in large italic script across the dark green door. Dark wooden tables and chairs were scattered about inside, with bunches of flowers and candles on every surface. The smell of freshly baked pizza wafted from the open pizza oven, where a chef stood shovelling round discs of dough into the mouth of the fire, pulling them out a few minutes later, risen and bubbling. Lucy’s mouth watered.
Lorenzo, the owner, greeted Rory warmly, chatting to him with a heavy Italian accent, asking him how he was and what was new in his life. He gave Lucy the once-over, smiling his approval at Rory and congratulating him on his beautiful choice of companion, before ushering them to a little table towards the back. Lucy ordered a Diet Coke, Rory ordered a Peroni and they both pounced hungrily on the basket of warm ciabatta, drizzling olive oil and balsamic vinegar all over it before biting into the chewy dough.
Lorenzo brought the menus over. After several minutes’ perusal, they both decided to get pizzas, they just looked too tempting to resist.
‘Oh how IloveItalian food,’ said Lucy. ‘I could have ordered anything on that menu!’
‘I can never decide between pizza and pasta, it’s really the food of the gods!’ agreed Rory.
‘Have you been to Italy and eaten real Italian food?’ asked Lucy.
‘I’ve been a couple of times.’
‘Whereabouts?’
‘Venice and Florence, both beautiful cities. What about you?’ asked Rory.
‘Well I did a history of art degree; one of my modules was on the Sistine Chapel so I managed to go to Rome to get an up-close and personal look at the place as part of my course! I ended up doing my dissertation on the Baroque period in Italian art, Caravaggio is my favourite artist, so I travelled around Italy one summer, exploring and visiting lots of art galleries and churches,’ explained Lucy. ‘I’ve actually visited quite a lot of Italy, and Rome is definitely the best city.’
‘I’m ashamed to admit that I have never been to Rome,’ confessed Rory.
‘Shameful indeed for an architect,’ agreed Lucy, teasing him. ‘You should go!’
‘Maybe you can give me the grand tour?’ suggested Rory, smiling at Lucy with a cheeky look in his eyes.
She knew that he was joking, they had only met twice after all, but she was encouraged nonetheless that he would even make such a suggestion. Could it mean that he thought they might see more of each other, that he might like to? She wondered if he was feeling as deeply drawn to her as she was to him. She crossed her fingers and toes and said, ‘Yeah, maybe, if you’re lucky!’ laughing it off with a shrug.
‘Anyway, Rome isn’t the most beautiful place in Italy; there is somewhere else that wins hands down. Do you know the Amalfi coast?’ asked Lucy.
‘I’ve heard of it but I’ve never actually been, I think Dermot might have been there when he went inter-railing as a young lad. Is it near Naples?’
‘It’s about an hour and a half from Naples; you can catch the ferry the whole way there, following the coastline. It’s such a stunning journey. Anyway, there’s a little town called Positano, it’s just a cluster of pastel houses scattered on a steep hillside across a cut-away valley. The sea is bright turquoise and crystal-clear, the whole place looks like it has been dreamt up for a fairy tale, it’s just the most breathtakingly beautiful place on earth.’ Lucy reminisced about her time there as a student, she had taken the train to Naples with another friend from her course and stayed in a little hostel with magnificent views of the town beneath them.
‘I’m sold!’ said Rory. ‘It sounds amazing… I can’t imagine how there are people in this day and age who have never left their own country, or worse, their own county! There’s such an incredible world out there to explore.’
Lucy nodded in agreement, loving Rory’s enthusiasm for just about everything.
Just then their pizzas arrived, piping hot. Strings of melting cheese stretched from slice to slice as they pulled them apart. They devoured them hungrily, chatting happily about all the places they had visited and making a wish list of top destinations still to explore. It was such a happy evening.
Lorenzo brought over huge bowls of gooey tiramisu for pudding accompanied with little shots of limoncello, the sharp sweetness the perfect digestif after the richness of the cream and coffee. Lucy felt so full and so content; her cheeks were glowing with a combination of flirtation, good food and drink. She knew that Rory must be feeling the same way too, they hadn’t run out of conversation even for a moment and they seemed to have the same views on all sorts of unexpected subjects.
As the last customers trickled out of the restaurant, Rory asked for the bill and insisted on paying for Lucy’s meal. As they walked down the road, Rory took Lucy’s hand in his, it felt like a perfect fit and she felt energy coursing through her at the physical contact. Her heart felt like it was skipping every other beat. They didn’t speak, they just walked along in silence, their breath like little clouds of mist in the cold air. She thought about stopping to flag down a taxi to take her home, but every atom of her body refused to leave his company, all she wanted to do was talk to him more, look at him more and memorize every gorgeous part of him. She had never felt like this before; she was amazed at the strength of her attraction towards him.
Before she knew it they were back outside his house. Her heart was hammering in her chest like a stampede of wildebeest. He turned to face her, his hand still holding hers, staring with those mesmerizing blue eyes into hers. She opened her mouth, about to thank him for dinner, her breath coming in shallow gulps of air; she couldn’t believe the physical reaction her body was having to him. The chemistry was palpable. And then his face was nearing hers, as if in slow motion. His lips brushed against hers, the lightest graze, sending shivers of electricity through her body. She dared not move, willing him to kiss her again, unable to breathe. He stroked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, smiled tenderly at her, and then kissed her again, still barely brushing her lips with his. He repeated the exquisite torture a few more times, each time pressing his lips a little harder against hers, each kiss lasting a little longer. The heady smell of his musky aftershave was having a dizzying effect on her.
Suddenly, it was as if he could resist the temptation no longer; he put one hand behind her head and the other around her shoulders and kissed her properly, pressing his body firmly against her. She almost fainted with the rush of blood from her head down to her pelvis; it was as though her libido had been jumpstarted with an electric shock from the National Grid. Lucy kissed him back, wrapping her arms around him, running her hands through his thick, brown hair, oblivious to any passers-by. She knew that every rule book ever written would tell her to go home right this second, to end it now before he got what he wanted and completely lost interest, but there was no way she could stop.
Pausing for breath, he held her face in his hands, brushing her cheek with his huge thumb. She felt so tiny and fragile in comparison to him, like a dainty porcelain doll. Looking tenderly into her eyes, he whispered, ‘You are the most beautiful, intriguing woman I have met in a long, long time. You have no idea…’ he muttered, his eyes shining with emotion.
Lucy felt overwhelmed looking at him, she felt so fond of him already as though they had been in each other’s lives for years. Unable to speak, she kissed him again, lightly on the lips, as he had done, despite the huge, beaming smile that was spreading across her lips.
Brushing her blonde fringe away from her eyes, cupping her face in his hand, Rory leant closer to her ear and whispered, ‘Do you want to come in?’
Hesitating for a moment, but only for a moment, Lucy nodded her head, knowing exactly what she was agreeing to. Rory unlocked the door. Both he and Lucy were greeted rapturously by Rufus, who, having been alone for several hours, was desperate for company. Poor Rufus’s audience was far too distracted by each other to pay much attention to him, so he retreated to his bed with his tail between his legs, back to the still glowing embers of the fire.
Rory took off his jacket and hung it on the peg by the door then took Lucy by the hand and led her upstairs. Her whole body was trembling with desire, her knees felt weak underneath her and she used her free hand to clutch the banister as she climbed the stairs.
In his bedroom, a huge four-poster bed awaited them, clean white sheets beckoned invitingly. The enormous full moon shimmered just outside the window. Lucy stood by the glass looking at the night sky as Rory closed the bedroom door behind them. Suddenly, she felt his warm body press against the length of her back as he wrapped his arms around her, she could feel his breath hot against her neck, his breathing heavy. He kissed her softly on the side of her neck, again and again; spine-tingling tremors ran down her body with each kiss. Unable to bear it a second longer, she turned around to face him. They fell onto the bed, removing their clothes, kissing and exploring each other’s bodies, devouring each other hungrily, losing themselves with complete abandon.
