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Only being closer scared her more than the thought of having sex with him. Her heart gave a leap as though it too wanted to escape. If only she could crawl under the table and hide. But she could tell simply by looking at the set of his jaw that running away would only prolong her agony.
‘I don’t,’ she said flatly.
He frowned. ‘So it could happen again? That’s a little worrying, don’t you think?’ The corners of his mouth twitched. ‘I mean, what if you lose control and try and take advantage of me?’
She lifted her face to his and he saw the fear and the longing in her eyes, and in the shake of her head, and the fluttering pulse at the base of her throat. She wanted him. But she was going to fight him every inch of the way. The thought both exasperated and excited him unbearably.
Licking her lips, she stared at him confusedly. The sudden shift of his mood from tormenting to teasing made her insides lurch. And then slowly he smiled, his blue eyes flickering over her skin like a naked flame, cutting off her breath in her throat.
Around her the pastel-coloured stuccoed buildings began to waver in the sunlight. Desperately, she clutched the table like a lifebelt, and then her heart gave a quivering lurch as he reached over and took her hand.
‘Why don’t we stop this, cara? We’re both adults. And we both want the same thing. So let’s stop playing games—’
His hand was warm and light on hers. His thumb moving gently, caressing her skin like a warm tide.
Her head was spinning. It would be so easy to surrender to the golden glow of his touch. Taking a small, shallow breath, she glanced helplessly around the cafe. An elderly man and his wife were smiling at her, their lined faces soft with approval. No doubt they thought she and Massimo were some young couple—a pair of newlyweds, maybe. She breathed out sharply. Whatever they thought they were seeing, they were wrong. And she must have absolutely no sense of self-preservation if she was going to let that beautiful, lethal smile blind her to the perils of getting involved with him any more than she already had.
For where would that involvement end? Probably he would grow bored with her the minute she surrendered her body to his. And that would be humiliating. But humiliation was the most positive outcome here. What would happen if she fell in love? Her stomach twisted. A memory of her father slid into her head: hunched, shrunken on a sofa, clutching her mother’s cardigan, his face wet with tears. Her face tightened. Then her pain would be infinitesimal and immutable.
She shivered.
Love! She’d read the poems and listened to the songs on the radio. But love wasn’t just about devotion or even passion. It was about sacrifice too. And if you had that sort of love—a love that exploded inside you and sent shock waves to the tips of your fingers—then at some point you would end up paying. And it would take everything you had. Your strength, your health, your happiness, your sanity.
She bit her lip and abruptly withdrew her hand from his. ‘You’re right. We do want the same thing. But the difference between us is that I know that’s not enough of a reason to have sex.’ She spoke quickly, her desire to be gone giving force to her words.
Beckoning for the waiter, she pushed back her chair and threw a handful of coins onto the table.
His face hardened. ‘Why are you fighting this?’
‘Because it’s wrong,’ she shot back. ‘Wrong. And stupid.’
‘You didn’t think that yesterday!’
His voice was filled with frustration, but it was the chill in his eyes that whipped the breath from her throat.
‘That was then—’ she said hotly.
‘Oh, please!’ His scorn, sharp-edged, sliced through her denial. ‘If I kissed you now you’d kiss me right back.’
The truth felt like a blast of cold air. She took a deep breath. Why was she fighting it? Would it really matter if she took his arm and led him to some anonymous hotel in the town? For a moment, she could almost feel the weight of the door key in her hand. Could feel the shimmering heat between their naked bodies—
She straightened her shoulders. Sex made everything seem so simple. All it required was some bodies and the right mix of hormones. But no matter how much she ached to feel the weight of his body on hers she wasn’t going to give in. No amount of ecstasy was worth risking the pain and loss her father felt.
She breathed out slowly as, behind her, a bus pulled noisily into the square. ‘Yes. I kissed you,’ she said defiantly. ‘And I’m not going to pretend I didn’t enjoy it or that I don’t find you attractive. Only it’s not enough. Not enough for me to sleep with you. It might have been if we felt the same way. But we both know your motives have nothing to do with passion and everything to do with paying me back for getting in your way.’
Massimo stared at her, caught between anger and admiration. She was right to question his motives although she was also wrong: he didn’t want to pay her back. Maybe at first he’d simply intended to exploit their powerful sexual attraction and thereby make her more malleable. But now his motives seemed to be growing more complex and confused. Just as the ache in his groin grew ever more intense and painful.
Watching his face harden, she felt her heart beat high in her throat—and then the tension seemed to drop inside her. Suddenly, for the first time in days, she felt calm. Wanting sex for its own sake wasn’t wrong. But she knew deep down that Massimo’s desire for her was motivated more by power than lust. Her refusal to move out had simply fuelled his desire to have his own way: if he couldn’t have the palazzo he would have her instead. And that was wrong.
Her heart was thumping painfully hard and, feeling almost light-headed, she came to a sudden decision.
‘Like I said, it’s not a reason to stay but it is a reason for me to move out.’ Snatching her handbag from the table, she stood up abruptly. ‘I’ll send someone to pick up my stuff. Congratulations. You’ve got what you wanted!’
She heard Massimo swear softly, saw his hand reach out to stop her, and then she turned and darted across the pavement towards the bus, slipping between the doors as it started to rumble away from the square.
* * *
Switching off the shower, Flora wrapped herself up in the towel provided by the pensione and stared glumly at herself in the small chipped mirror above the sink. Last night she’d been on a high, but now things felt slightly different. Her elation had dissipated, leaving behind the miserable realisation that, while she might have succeeded in having the last word, she had made herself homeless in the process.
