AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘I didn’t think you would, Miss Cherry Gibbs from England. Not for a moment. You think Sophia is hard done by?’
The overt mockery was galling. He was galling, with his to-die-for body and filmstar good-looks. Horrified such a thought had entered her mind, Cherry said crisply, ‘I would just say that I consider your treatment of your sister archaic at best and stupid at worst.’
> The smile hovering about his mouth disappeared. ‘Stupid?’ he ground out. Clearly ‘archaic’ was permissible, but ‘stupid’ had most definitely touched a nerve.
He sat up on the sun-bed, the subtle sensual odour of his brown skin overlaid with the tang of the swimmingpool water filling her senses as he leant closer. ‘Why stupid?’ he murmured, his eyes like cold steel. ‘Explain yourself.’
He had asked. ‘I happen to think Sophia is far more emotionally mature than you intimated,’ she said carefully, ‘but when all is said and done she is still a sixteen-year-old girl. I’ve been that age, and if there is one thing absolutely set in concrete it’s that you do whatever the older generation says it’s foolish to do. Call it rebellion, finding your own feet, whatever, but it’s guaranteed you’ll go against the grain. And that is what Sophia is doing.’
‘Santo?’ he said flatly.
‘Santo.’ Cherry nodded. ‘You are driving her into his arms by trying to keep them apart.’
‘The problema romantico?’ The hard, autocratic face was thoughtful. ‘Si, maybe. Perhaps you have a point.’
‘Yes, definitely.’ Her voice was cool. ‘It’s Romeo and Juliet all over again.’
‘An exaggeration, but I get your drift,’ he drawled mockingly.
Hateful man. ‘Of course it’s none of my business,’ she said crisply, sliding out of the hammock and walking towards the swimming pool. ‘And I’m sure a man as well acquainted with the female sex as you obviously are knows exactly what he’s doing.’
She dived into the cool water before he could reply, needing to put some space between them. It didn’t work. When she surfaced he was right there beside her, grey eyes glinting in the baking hot sunlight.
He didn’t mince his words. ‘You think I am a womaniser?’ he asked, treading water by her side. ‘A philanderer?’
Feeling far more vulnerable than she would have liked, Cherry blinked and shook her hair out of her eyes. ‘I’ve no idea what you are,’ she prevaricated. ‘I don’t know you, do I?’
‘This is true, but I do not think it has stopped you forming an opinion.’ As she began to swim, he kept by her side. ‘Are you always so quick to make erroneous judgements?’
His voice was mild, but it didn’t fool her for a moment. She had got under his skin, it was obvious, but any satisfaction she might have felt about denting his giant ego was negated by a feeling of defencelessness. Not that she thought he would hurt her—she didn’t—but…
Forcing a calmness into her voice that was all at odds with her wildly beating heart, she said, ‘I told you. I have no opinion about you one way or the other, OK? You might have a woman for every day of the week or you could live like a monk. You were the one who talked about all those daughters of marriagable age being paraded before you, remember?’
They had reached the shallow end of the pool, where large circular steps led gently into the water. Cherry didn’t know whether to climb out or continue swimming, but in the next moment Vittorio murmured, ‘Ah, here is Margherita. I thought it would be nice to have cocktails by the pool tonight before dinner.’
He seriously expected her to sit half-naked drinking cocktails with him? Worse, the scrap of material posing as swimming trunks which all Italian men seemed to favour left nothing, absolutely nothing, to the imagination. The water was cold but Cherry felt hot all over as she watched the housekeeper’s approach.
Would she be reacting differently to his intimidating masculinity if she’d gone to bed with a man before? she asked herself feverishly as Vittorio stood up, offering his hand to her as he stood on the bottom step leading out of the pool. Possibly because she knew Angela had always slept around, even having two or three boyfriends on the go now and again, Cherry had always determined she would wait for ‘the one’ before she gave herself body and soul. She supposed in hindsight it said a lot for her lack of confidence that she and Liam would actually last, that she hadn’t given in to his constant demands that their lovemaking progress beyond the petting stage. Introducing him to Angela had been the big test. And he’d failed. Spectacularly. But had it really been a surprise?
Realising she couldn’t do anything other than take Vittorio’s hand, she, too, stood up, blessing the fact she was wearing her chaste swimming costume, its colour and cut modest. What she didn’t comprehend was that when the material was wet it clung to her body like a second skin, showing every dip and curve in a way more skimpy bikinis couldn’t hope to achieve. And then she glanced at Vittorio and saw the blazing animal desire turning the grey eyes into hot glittering orbs, before his lids came down and hid their expression from her.
Shocked, she stumbled on the slippery steps, and but for his fingers tightening round hers she would have fallen.
‘Come.’ His voice was cool and controlled as he led her out of the water, letting go of her hand immediately once she was standing safely on the hot marble slabs surrounding the pool area and turning to the housekeeper who was waiting for them. ‘Grazie, Margherita,’ he said, taking the tray holding two large fluted cocktail glasses and little bowls of nuts and other nibbles from the other woman. ‘Sophia is not joining us?’
The housekeeper answered in Italian, and whatever she said caused Vittorio to shrug. ‘Then we will see her at dinner. You will make this clear to her. I will have no more sulking in her room, pleading she is feeling unwell. Not now we have a guest.’
‘Oh, please, don’t make her come and eat dinner on my account,’ Cherry said hastily, wondering how quickly she could get to her sarong and cover herself. She had never felt so embarrassed in her life. Why hadn’t she realised before how positively indecent the swimming costume became when wet? But then Vittorio Carella hadn’t been around before.
Vittorio ignored her as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘You will make it clear,’ he repeated to his housekeeper, who stood stiff and impassive in the golden sunshine like a large black crow. Glancing at Cherry, whose cheeks were scarlet, he nodded in the direction of the hammock and sun-lounger they’d vacated. ‘Shall we?’
He let her precede him, and it was the hardest thing she’d ever done to walk in front of him. She knew his eyes were on her bottom, she could feel their heat burning into her skin, but it was better than if he was facing her because the air on her wet costume had turned her nipples into hard peaks pressing against the thin fabric. She felt as though she was in a porn movie.
It seemed like for ever before she reached the hammock and grabbed the sarong, wrapping it round her and tying it firmly over the top of her breasts so she was covered to her knees.
Vittorio set the tray on a table next to his sun-lounger, his voice lazy when he murmured, ‘Better?’ and glanced at her.
Her colour had just begun to subside. Now it flared into brighter life again at the knowledge he’d sensed her embarrassment and the reason for it. ‘I’m sorry?’ she said icily.
