Italian Affair Read online

  He cursed himself for succumbing to her temptation so readily. The idea had been that he would come to Lipari and start living life on his terms, enjoy himself, and he’d only been here a week and he had screwed up big-time. But when he’d woken up with her in his arms this morning, a deep contentment had filled him.

  For him it was always about more than just the sex, more than friends with benefits. And that’s where he usually came unstuck. If that’s all she was after, fine, she could damn well go without—he was not going to risk getting caught up in an emotional mess. He’d been there and done that before. They’d added the friends with benefits clause to the agreement, but she could run around the house naked for all he cared. He was not interested on those terms.

  “Shit,” he swore as he missed the timber and sliced his finger open on a bent nail.

  Like hell he wasn’t interested, but he was still going to ignore her. No way would he let her know the effect she was having on him. He wasn’t going to risk being hurt again.

  …

  Later that evening, Brianna looked over her wineglass at Tom as they sat on the terrace overlooking the sea, appreciating the aroma of the spaghetti sauce Aunt Maria had left bubbling on the stove. She’d left instructions for adding the seafood from the refrigerator and cooking the spaghetti, which made Brianna feel very clever, having been able to put the simple meal together.

  A fat moon hung low over the ocean and silver trails shimmered on the long, lazy swells that pushed into the shore. The salty tang of the sea breeze mixed with the aroma coming from the kitchen.

  “I’ve never been able to cook, you know,” she said to Tom, determined to engage him in conversation. He had answered each of her questions in monosyllables since he’d arrived home from Lipari late in the afternoon, and he’d not initiated one conversation. He’d disappeared straight into the bathroom and come out half an hour later in clean clothes. Trying to hide how his lack of conversation was bothering her, she prattled on.

  “Aunt Maria left very simple instructions so I hope it turns out.”

  “I’m sure it will.” He raised the glass to his lips and stared out over the sea.

  She couldn’t hold back any longer. “Oh, for pity’s sake, stop acting like a spoiled wee child who can’t get his own way.”

  He raised his eyebrows. For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer. When he swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed, she realized he was trying not to react to her goading.

  “I think you have a bit of growing up to do, speaking of ‘wee’ children,” he said, picking up the carafe and gesturing to her glass. Brianna burned up, not liking the look on his face or the tone of his voice. She ignored his offer.

  “Why?” she asked. “Because I’m honest about my feelings and I know what I want and I go for it?”

  His mouth, the same mouth that had taken her to paradise and back that very morning, turned up in a patient smile.

  “No, because you can’t accept that when I’m being honest about my feelings, I’m entitled to my opinion. I think if we sleep together it’s going to put our arrangement at risk. That’s the way I feel and you’ll have to accept it, because you won’t change my mind.”

  The warmth of a flush burned its way up her neck and she blessed her olive complexion. How dare he try to make her feel bad about seducing him this morning?

  “I don’t recall you thinking that way earlier,” she said coldly. “In fact, I recall you were a more-than-willing participant.” She locked her gaze with his and was pleased to see that a pulse flicked in his cheek and twin spots of color darkened his skin. “And you added the friends with benefits bit to the agreement.”

  “So we’ve got all bases covered then,” he said. “If you’re happy for me to keep living here, I’ll be most grateful. I’ll sort out the finances, you can write your book, and when the right time comes, I’ll head back to Australia or wherever the mood takes me. You’ll have your villa and we’ll both be happy.”

  “Fine.” She tossed her head. “That suits me fine too.” She was still a bit unnerved, never having felt so connected with anyone before. He’d ignored her mention of the benefits, but she’d be damned if she’d bring up the sex again.

  They both sat there glaring at each other until a bubble of mirth escaped from Brianna’s mouth.

  “I’m sorry.” She put her hand up to her quivering lips. “I’ve never been able to stay mad. I always lose an argument. My brothers and sister always won and I had to do their chores because they would bet me I couldn’t keep a straight face.”

  Finally, Tom smiled back at her. “It’s not such a bad thing. I was always the serious one in our family. Must be a personality type I inherited.”

  He stood and came and kneeled beside her chair, and picked up her hand. A frisson of warmth ran up her arm. “You bring out the worst in me, Brianna. Do you think you can put up with me and my hang-ups for a few months?”

  “Oh, Tom, you don’t have any hang-ups. And there’s nothing to put up with. There’s not a lot you don’t know about me.” Brianna looked down at his hand and ran her thumb over a cut on his finger. “Look, I’ll be honest. I don’t do emotion well. I do sex, I am a loyal friend, but I don’t do emotion.” She laughed when she saw the expression of his face. “It’s okay, I have a very happy life, and I live it on my terms. Now, let’s make a new deal.”

  “Agreement version three? Let me go and get the piece of paper.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Forget the paper. Stay living here with me. I need to convince that cantankerous old grandfather of mine that I really am his granddaughter and this house is mine. I want it and I’m going to keep it. I want to find out as much as I can about my mother and why she gave me up. There’s all that stuff of hers I haven’t even looked at yet.” She squeezed his hand. “And I’ll help you chill out and we’ll work on your list and have a great time together, and then you can pay me back.” She burst out laughing at the skeptical look on his face. “You are so easy to read. Don’t worry, there’s no sex in my equation.”

  “I’ll need to pay you back for giving me a roof over my head.”

  “Help me get organized so I can finish my book and make the deadline.”

  “But I’m no writer. I have no idea how to go about writing a book.”

  “I can do the writing…it’s the time management, and as much as I hate to admit it to you, some list-making would speed up my output. I tend to waste time and miss most of my deadlines. This is my last chance before I’m in breach of my contract.” She dropped her head. “And I’ve already spent the advance.”

  He nodded. “Is it a psychology textbook?”

  “You could say that.” She avoided a direct answer. He wasn’t quite ready for the subject matter of her book. She didn’t want him running away yet; she needed him to stay around until her grandfather accepted her and she was sure she could keep the villa. Plus, she was getting quite used to having him around.

  “And Tom, one more wee favor?” She reached up and ran her fingers down the side of his face. “You know, I really, really want this house. You don’t know how much it means to me to have the opportunity to find out about my real mother. So when we see my grandfather, would you keep up the ‘loving husband, so much in love with me, you can’t keep your hands off me’ act?”

  He let go of her hand and stood and moved away to the edge of the balcony.

  “As long as you keep your side of the bargain. No more early-morning visits to make it real.”

  “I promise. No more friends with benefits.” She tipped her head to the side. “I’ll wait until you ask.”

  He rolled his eyes at her.

  “You, madame, are incorrigible, and I can smell burning sauce.”

  With a squeal, she ran into the kitchen and whipped the saucepan off the stove before it boiled over.

  …

  Tom sat back and wiped his mouth with the linen napkin. Brianna had set up a small dining table out on the balcony and
they made plans for her writing routine while they ate the spaghetti marinara.

  “Now that we’ve got your writing space organized, do you think you might need to get Internet access here?”

  She shook her head. “No, too much temptation to chat instead of writing. I’ll come to Lipari with you to the Internet café when I need to contact my publisher.”

  He was surprised at her self-discipline. She tipped her head forward and flicked her thick braid over her shoulder. It was less tempting for him with her hair tied back, but he still remembered how the tendrils had brushed against his bare skin. As it was, he was having a hard enough time forgetting how her skin felt, the taste of her, and how she’d pulsed around him. He swallowed and desperately tried to think of something other than reaching for her and kissing her exposed neck. He grasped at the first thing that came into his mind.

  “Oh, by the way, your aunt sent a message to the marina and said someone will pick us up here on Sunday for the dinner at your grandfather’s place.”

  Brianna sat with her chin propped in her hands gazing out over the water, her eyes reflecting the moonlight, and she spoke softly. “I’m a bit nervous about meeting him again, you know. He is such a sad man.” Her body was outlined in the soft moonlight, and the gentle swell of her breast under the loose T-shirt drew his gaze.

  Tom stood suddenly and dropped his napkin to the table, fighting the surge of desire pulsing through him.

  “I’m going to bed.” His chair scraped on the tiled balcony. If he didn’t leave now, he was going to do something he’d regret and break every damn promise he’d made to himself. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Tom.”

  He lay on his back for a long time, watching the moonlight play across the ceiling, angry at himself and frustrated, wondering what sort of a fool he was. He’d never been so fascinated by a woman. She’d breathed life into every minute of the day. She was willing and had made her position as clear as day, so why was he hesitating?

  He didn’t need that emotional stuff. It sounded too much like commitment to him, and he wasn’t going anywhere near that.

  …

  “You can have the bathroom first,” Brianna called out from the room she’d set up with a table and her laptop. Tom stripped off his sweat-soaked work shirt and threw it into the old stone tub in the laundry room off the back balcony. In less than a week they had settled into a routine, and there’d been no major fireworks between them. And he’d managed to keep his hands off her.

  Aunt Carmen was still in Naples, and he’d spent the past four days working on the boats. Instead of catching the old bus back to Canneto today, he’d left early and walked along the cliff path between the villages. The view was spectacular, and he’d promised himself a trip to climb the volcano, which puffed out white smoke all day. Another one off the list.

  “Thanks,” he called back. “I’ll be quick. Maria said we’ll get picked up about five.”

  He stripped off, surprised by the deep tan he’d acquired in a few days. He shaved for the first time in a week. Brianna had been quieter than usual the past couple of nights, and he suspected she was nervous about meeting her grandfather again. Either that or it was sexual frustration. He knew all about that. He couldn’t get her out of his mind, and knowing she was just through the wall in the next room each night was killing him.

  He turned the water off in the shower and jumped as the door opened before he could reach for a towel. And then he realized there were no towels hanging on the rail.

  “Sorry, I took the towels out this morning and washed them.” Brianna stepped into the bathroom and handed him a clean towel, and broke into a huge grin when he grabbed it and wrapped it around his hips.

  “Wow, great tan.” She turned and headed for the door. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’ve seen it all before.” Gently closing the door, she laughed. “I’ve got brothers, remember.”

  Tom shook his head. She was so confident and so full of the joy of life, he had no doubt she would have her grandfather and the rest of her family under her spell before the night was out.

  Christ knows, she’s got me sucked right in.

  The most explosive sex of his life had left him wanting more. Once he finally got to sleep each night, he dreamed about her and those magic hands. It took all his willpower to stop himself from knocking on her door, climbing into bed with her, and taking up where his imagination had left off.

  Earlier in the week she’d shared some of her work with him, and he’d seen another side of her. He’d wandered over to her desk to help her with a printer jam and read the chapter list on a piece of paper stuck in the printer.

  This giggly, free-spirited girl was writing a textbook on sex therapy. He shook his head and smiled. A couple of weeks ago he would have run a mile, but their conversations had shown him a different side to her and he’d developed a respect for her knowledge and her obvious clinical experience. Her exuberance for her subject had impressed him, and she’d challenged him with some questionnaires and shown him the fun side of being psychoanalyzed. It had gotten him thinking and he’d mulled over the couple of failed relationships in his past as he’d worked out in the fresh air this week. Like everything he did, he’d focused on them too much before they had developed. His total approach was wrong.

  No more.

  Half an hour later, Tom and Brianna waited together on the balcony for the promised lift. A small crescent moon hung low over the horizon. The pungent aroma of herbs surrounded them, crushed underfoot when they crossed the stone path.

  “Do you know who’s picking us up? Do you think it will be him?” She ran her fingers through her loose curls, a sure sign she was nervous. “My grandfather…Nonno, I mean.”

  “I don’t know. Maria said to be ready at five.”

  She smoothed her dress down with nervous hands. A deep plunging back left her tanned skin bare. Tom put his arm around her and tried to ignore the jolt that went straight to his groin when he touched her warm, satiny skin. Her loose curls tumbled over her bare shoulders, and she smelled of coconut. “It’ll be fine. I’ll be the loving husband and I’ll watch out for you. If he gets nasty, we’ll come home early, even if we have to walk.”

  She snuggled into him. “You are a good man, Tom Richards.”

  The purring of a car motor coming slowly up the hill caught Tom’s attention and he whistled in appreciation. He gently turned her around and pointed to the car silhouetted by the setting sun.

  “Not bad,” he said. “Not bad at all.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “A C-Class Mercedes-Benz coupe. Very nice.” He had considered one of them before purchasing his latest BMW back home.

  She shrugged. “A car’s a car.”

  “Oh, you philistine. It’s a thing of beauty.” He laughed. “I can see I need to educate you. Just because I’ve been depending on that old rattletrap of a bus to get around, I still appreciate a fine motor, and you and I are about to have a ride in one of the best.”

  The large white car drew to a halt beside them, and Tom glanced across at Brianna. She choked back a laugh when a middle-aged man wearing a chauffeur’s uniform and a cap with a gold insignia stepped out of the car and bowed to them.

  “Signore, signora.” He opened the door and gestured for them to enter. Brianna slid in, and Tom joined her and placed his arm around her.

  “You never know, the hired help may have been sent to spy on you, too,” he whispered with a smile. Besides, it was an innocent opportunity to touch her.

  “Why would my nonno send a hired car to pick us up?” she whispered back.

  “I’m not so sure it’s a hired car. I think we may be in for some surprises tonight, so best prepare yourself.” He squeezed her shoulder, appreciating the way she tucked in under his arm. A warm contentment filled him. The driver turned the car around in the drive and headed down the hill toward Lipari. They cruised through the town and climbed the hill to the west, where a large villa on top of the rid
ge was bathed in light.

  “Holy Moses, don’t tell me that’s my grandfather’s house.”

  “I think it’s more than a house.”

  Brianna reached over and gripped his hand. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “You’ll be fine. Remember how sweet Aunt Maria is…and I’ll be with you to look out for you.”

  The car turned through a large set of ornate gates that opened automatically when they approached, and then down a sweeping driveway flanked by a low hedge. Bright spotlights highlighted ornate statues of gods and goddesses placed at regular intervals.

  The car drew to a halt in front of a small fountain, and the chauffeur opened the door on the passenger side. Brianna slid across the black leather seat, hitching her dress down over her long, bare legs. Tom followed, pleased she’d discarded her usual garb of khaki cargo pants and T-shirts. Apart from their wedding it was only the second time he’d seen her in a dress. With legs like that, legs that went forever, she should wear dresses every day.

  “Quit gawking and be a good husband.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him closer just as Aunt Maria came running down the steps to greet them.

  “Benvenuto.” She clutched at Tom’s arm and pulled him down and kissed both his cheeks.

  “And my cara nipote.” Aunt Maria looped her arm through Brianna’s. “Now you come and meet your famiglia.”

  Tom hurried to catch up to them and took Brianna’s other arm. He straightened his back, stiffening his resolve to protect his “wife” from any unpleasantness that might ensue. Maria led them through a marble foyer with a massive chandelier hanging from a domed ceiling.

  “Close your mouth, Bri.” He leaned over and jabbed her in the ribs.

  They followed Maria and passed through whitewashed arches and over cool ceramic floors until they reached the back of the house. The view looked out over the mountainous interior of the volcanic island. A solarium, a tennis court, and a lawn for playing bocce were surrounded by a large garden of citrus and olive trees.