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Well, he thought defiantly, he was enjoying both right now.
Then a frown creased his brow, his eyes shifting to Connie, lying basking in the heat on her sun lounger beside him, face-down, the sculpted line of her back bared courtesy of her undone bikini top. How very lovely she looked...
And she was noinamorata, was she?
His gaze flickered. Connie was the woman he’d undergone a brief, hurried wedding ceremony with—the woman who had made it possible for him to claim his inheritance.
‘Inamorata’ was not the correct term to apply to her. She was far more than that.
His former flingshad never lasted long. But why? He remembered telling Raf that because his grandfather had worked him so hard he’d never damn well had time to build a relationship with anyone. Was that why any affair he’d started had never lasted?
Or was it because I never wanted them to last?
And if that was so, then why?
His expression tightened. A shrink might say it was because of his parents...the fact that they’d been killed when he was only a boy. But how did that tie in—if it even did? Or was it because he had bought into his grandfather’s obsession with work? Leaving no time for anything else? Or was it because it had been bad enough that his grandfather had controlled his life, and letting a woman do that too would have been intolerable?
There was a shadow in his eyes now, and a memory plucked at him of how fiercely he’d rejected the idea of picking one of his exes to marry to meet the terms of the will, on the grounds that no female he knew would be prepared to make so temporary a marriage. They’d have wanted to tie him down...curb the freedom he’d never even had the chance to enjoy...
That, after all, was what had made Connie so ideal as his wife. She had no interest in a permanent marriage. Not then, when he’d married her, and not now either.
He felt a sense of relief go through him. This was exactly why he and Connie got on so well. And what was happening between them now—amazing as it was—didn’t change any of that.
We’re just enjoying ourselves...having a wonderful time. Friends who have quite unexpectedly become lovers—for now.
Yes, that was the way to look at it—that made sense. And now that it did his expression changed, became lighter. He could put his concerns aside and just get on with enjoying this time with Connie while it lasted. There were several months ahead still to enjoy. That was good—very good.
A feeling of intense satisfaction filled him. He reached his hand across to her as he put all complicated thoughts out of his head. He didn’t want complications. He wanted what he was having now.
A holiday. Relaxation. An easy time.
And Connie.
Oh, he most definitely wanted Connie...
In bed and out. By day and by night.
And right now, too.
He gave a wry smile. Though they wouldn’t be up for anything too passionate in this heat...
He let his fingers run lazily down the length of her spine. She stirred at his touch, stretching languorously.
‘Time for a cool-down swim,’ Dante said. ‘Then lunch.’
‘Sounds good,’ she said, retying her bikini top.
‘You could always try going topless,’ Dante remarked. His eyes glinted hopefully.
He got an old-fashioned look as his reward, and laughed, contenting himself with helping her lever herself up from the lounger and head down to the water’s edge.
The swim have them an appetite, and they ateal frescoon the villa’s shady terrace, tucking into fresh bread, ham, cheese, tomatoes and peaches. Simple, but delicious. Tonight they were going to stroll into town and try out another of the restaurants along the seafront...
Over dinner, washed down with a local wine, tasty and robust, listening to the lapping of the sea against the harbour wall, they discussed the next day’s delights.
‘How about crossing over to Elba tomorrow?’ Dante ventured, glancing at Connie. ‘Giving ourselves a dose of Napoleonic history?’
Connie’s face lit up. ‘Oh, yes, let’s! Is there a ferry, or shall we take the motorboat across? Can you manage that distance?’
