The Italian’s Bride On Paper by Kim Lawrence

CHAPTER SEVEN

SHETENSEDAT the tentative tap on the door, but only slightly. She didn’t associate Samuele with tentative, so it was unlikely to be him. She had thought this morning might be awkward after their kiss, actually she had thought of spending the day in her bathroom, but it wasn’t, because he didn’t put in an appearance, and she ate her breakfast alone.

It had been a solitary sort of day. Maya had spent most of it in the nursery suite, although she had walked around a section of garden with Mattio in a pushchair, longingly eyeing up the extensive parkland and the oak woods beyond. She knew they were oak trees because she’d asked a gardener who was working outside. Their conversation had involved a lot of hand gestures, his English being only slightly better than her Italian, but she thought he’d understood her when she’d said she’d like to walk in the woods. There had been a moment when the communication had broken down and he had been particularly emphatic, saying cinghiale, and getting quite agitated, repeating it until in the end she’d nodded simply to soothe him.

Her visitor was Rosa, who would have been the babysitter of choice last night. Her English was excellent and Maya would have quite enjoyed a chat, but the girl was here to relieve her from baby duties. It was not presented as an option and the instructions had come directly from Samuele.

‘Rafael will show you to the leisure suite. Do you swim?’ Rosa asked.

‘I don’t have a costume.’

The girl gave a little giggle. ‘There will be no one else there, but of course there are costumes available for when there are...guests, you understand.’

Maya did understand, of course she did, and she was instantly determined not to wear a swimsuit that had previously been worn by one of Samuele’s female guests.

‘You are not like them. I mean...’

Maya took pity on her confusion. ‘I wouldn’t mind an hour or so’s break,’ she admitted. ‘But Mattio hasn’t had a nap yet or—’

The girl dropped down beside the chair where the baby kicked his legs and continued to chew on a teething ring. ‘Me and the bambino will be fine, you go, or I will be in trouble.’

Maya nodded and Rosa beamed. ‘Shall I call Rafael?’

‘No, it’s fine, I’ll find my own way.’

The girl looked doubtful. ‘It is in the below part of the castello, in the cellar. There are lifts, which are quite well hidden.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Maya promised.

Had she actually intended to take advantage of the pool she would have accepted the services of a guide. The castello was a warren of rooms and corridors and even making her way to the dining room for breakfast she had got turned around twice, but she intended to head outside to explore the oak woods and maybe even the vineyards beyond.

As she made her way through the parkland heading towards the wooded area she saw the elderly gardener in the distance and waved cheerily at him as he waved back enthusiastically.

It was good to be outside. She might have escaped the luxury of the castello, but the thoughts in her head were less easy to escape. She speeded up, ignoring the jeering voice in her head that was playing on a loop... You can run but you can’t hide.

She didn’t slow until she reached the trees. To her relief there was a definite pathway and she felt confident that she wouldn’t get lost. The confidence began to ebb as the trees got denser and began to close in on her, but the path was still clear even though it was darker here, so she pushed on, breathing in the pungent scent of warm earth underfoot. Several times she imagined she heard rustling, and once a flicker of movement in the periphery of her vision but, peering through the branches, she saw nothing.

She was actually on the point of turning back when the trees began to thin and the path opened up into a small clearing. She let out a small cry of delight, and had crouched down to examine the tiny flowers that carpeted the floor when she heard a snap of twigs and a snuffling sound.

She froze, this time knowing it was definitely not her imagination. She wasn’t alone.

‘Is somebody there?’ What are you going to do if someone says yes? that voice jeered again.

Run!

She huffed out a laugh of sheer relief when out of the undergrowth a little pig appeared, furry and ginger with stripes down its back. Utterly charmed, she rose to her feetand approached it slowly so as not to frighten it. ‘Hello there, little one, are you lost? Ooh, hello there as well,’ she added, moving forward, her hand outstretched as three more of the cute creatures appeared, making little whining noises.

She reached into her pocket to find her phone, as she had to have a photo of these, when a loud grunting and squealing behind her made her jump. She almost dropped the phone as she spun around expecting to see more piglets.

She froze. This was not a cute creature, though it might once have been. She knew she was looking at the adult version, and a prickle of fear made the hairs on the nape of her neck stand on end. The tiny eyes gave it a mean look as it stared at her past its long, hard snout, and the piglets started squealing even louder. The parent—mother?—started forward, letting out another angry snorting noise.

Samuele was petrified. ‘Do not run, Maya,’ he said as quietly as he could, struggling with the image in his head of her being run down within seconds.

Maya was frozen to the spot.

‘I can’t.’

‘Oh, cara, you can,’ he insisted softly, cold sweat slicking his skin as he watched her poised like a gazelle about to run. ‘Now, don’t make any sudden noise but start to back away from her very slowly.’

She began to turn her head to look at him. ‘No!’ His voice dropped back to a low, soft, soothing monotone as he emphasised, ‘Do not turn around or look at me, just keep moving backwards, perfect, perfect...very slowly...’

She clung to his voice like a lifeline, each calm yet emphatic syllable stopping her succumbing to total panic.

‘Samuele...’

‘You will be fine, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you, but be careful and do not fall over.’ He had seen the damage a female wild boar could do in defence of her young; she might lack the tusks of the male, but she was fast and those teeth could inflict some wicked wounds. The idea of them tearing into Maya’s flesh filled him with a fear that was visceral in its intensity.

One of the piglets rushed towards Maya and he clenched his teeth against a groan as the mother’s angry squeals intensified—she was going to charge.

Without taking his eyes from the animal he reached down for the fallen branch his boot was balanced on.

‘Maya.’

She was shaking, her chalk-white pale face dotted with beads of cold sweat. Being paralyzed with fear had taken on an entirely new meaning.

‘Can you hear me?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered.

‘You are going to do what I tell you, when I tell you and not before...do you understand?’

She nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Good girl. There is a track behind you and to the left—it goes uphill. I want you to run, but not until I say. Run and don’t look back, don’t stop until you reach the observatory.’

‘The what?’

‘You will know when you’re there.’

‘What about you?’

‘I will be fine if you do what I ask you to.’ The rustle as he tightened his hand over the branch turned the boar’s mean red eyes his way, and she began to move away from Maya. ‘That’s it, come over here, Mama Boar. Now get ready, Maya.’ He lifted the branch and banged the ground, yelling like a banshee, the infuriated animal charged and he shouted, ‘Now, Maya! Run, cara, run!’ He waited just long enough to see that she had taken off before he hit the ground running, still yelling as he did so.

There was no way he could outrun an enraged boar who, despite her bulk, could really move, and he knew that his only chance was getting high enough up...once he was sure that Maya was far enough away from those teeth.

Maya ran, her heart pumping, self-preservation giving her feet wings as she ran, instinct rather than a recollection of his instructions putting her on the right path. Panting tears sliding down her cheeks, she ran on uphill, stumbling over roots but knowing that she could not fall... She barely noticed when a stray overhanging branch delivered a glancing blow to her cheek. More tears blurred her vision as she refused to look back—don’t look back, and don’t fall.

Her lungs felt as though they would burst when the trees cleared quite abruptly and she saw her goal. The small, square stone building with the domed roof of glass was an incongruous sight, but she wasn’t asking why it was there. She was only focused on the sanctuary offered by the metal-banded doors, thinking...Not locked, please, not locked!

It wasn’t.

One side of the double doors opened without any effort on her part as she slipped inside the sanctuary and closed it fast behind her. She leaned against it, eyes closed and shaking with reaction, her laboured breathing gradually slowing.

Oh, God...Samuele!

Her eyes flew wide and she turned and pushed the doors she had just closed open again. She was sobbing again, loudly, but she didn’t hear as she was seeing him banging the ground with his stick, deliberately drawing the vicious animal to him... She had left him, deserted him, abandoned him; she was that person, the person she despised.

If he was harmed she would never forgive herself.

Self-disgust settled over her like a black cloud as she waited, her eyes trained on the woods, alert to any sign of sound or movement. If he was hurt or worse it was on her.

He could be lying out there slashed and bleeding, needing help. She became so convinced by the lurid images in her head that she had just made the decision to go out and find him when he appeared.

She didn’t immediately see him, just a movement in the periphery of her vision. She had been willing him to appear, but he came from a totally different direction.

The relief was so intense she thought she was going to faint, then she realised the faintness was probably associated with the fact she was hyperventilating.

Consciously slowing her breathing, she took a step towards him.

‘You’re not dead!’ Even as she spoke it crossed her mind that she had never seen anyone look more alive. His eyes were burning bright, the glitter in them almost incandescent, though one leg of his trousers was ripped from the ankle almost to the thigh, revealing olive-tanned hair-roughened skin and long slabs of muscle.

There were scratches on his face, some oozing blood, but he looked totally relaxed as he drew level with her and he wasn’t even breathing hard. It struck her that he looked more dangerous than the boar.

A danger that anyone with a pinch of sense would run away from, but his hands lay heavy on her shoulders and she couldn’t have run even if she had wanted to, which she didn’t.

‘Dead?’He laughed and shook his head. ‘The cinghiale rarely kill but they can cause some serious damage and ugly scars. Some hunters say boars are more dangerous than bears, though we don’t have any of those here.’ His white grin appeared. ‘Just wolves.’

He was giving her a natural history lesson! She had been half out of her mind and he was telling her it wasn’t so very bad...cinghiale...why was that Italian word ringing bells?

Sam’s eyes moved swiftly across her face, noting the bruise developing on her cheek, his jaw quivering as he felt a twisting sensation in his chest, a tenderness that he was reluctant to name.

‘You did good,’ he said roughly, releasing her.

‘I did,’ she agreed breathlessly.

Her eyes widened, and she stood there visibly trembling as he reached out again. She stayed statue-still, her eyes connected with his, swaying slightly as his fingers pushed into her hair, lightly grazing her scalp.

He felt her shiver and watched the pupils of her eyes dilate, the longing in her eyes... It was hard to not see danger when it was literally staring you in the face.

It was just seeing her here safe and sound, the relief, the elation after the not knowing, the nightmare scenarios that had been going through his head while, Madre di Dios, he’d been trapped up a tree until that damned boar had finally given up the hunt.

They were all good reasons for the way he was feeling but not excuses... Control...he needed control.

‘Got it! Did you leave any forest out there?’ he asked, opening his hand to reveal the twig he’d gently pulled out of her hair before he dropped it and ground it underfoot, his eyelashes lowering to hide the burning desire in his eyes.

The anticlimax was as shocking as a slap, and the subsequent mood change as dramatic as it was intense. She wanted to cry again, and she could actually feel the tears pressing at the backs of her eyes. You’re in shock, she told herself, glad to put a name to the roller coaster of emotions and her heightened mood.

‘You found it, then.’

He was looking past her, and she turned her head, not even pretending an interest as her glance moved through the open doors of the observatory to the interior. She was seeing the cedar-lined walls within for the first time, hung round with bookcases and with a sumptuous day bed just to the right of the spiral staircase. From where they stood, she could see just make out the glass dome above the telescope set in a mezzanine observation platform.

‘My grandfather was a stargazer. Actually, he was quite a well-respected amateur astronomer, so he restored the observatory and—’

‘You enjoyed it, didn’t you?’ Maya interrupted ruthlessly. She could feel the emotions building up inside her, feel the pounding in her temples like a hammer hitting a crumbling wall...each thud destroying more of the mortar and her self-control.

He recognised the antagonism shining in her eyes, but he didn’t really understand it. He hadn’t exactly enjoyed the heart-pumping run here, seeing as every step had been burdened by the not knowing, the fear eating away at him that she might have been hurt. Every second he’d had to spend up that damn tree not knowing if she was all right had felt like a century, so when he’d seen her standing there unharmed it had felt like... He actually had nothing to compare the feeling to, it was way more complex than anything he could imagine, but perhaps akin to the sheer elation you felt when you emerged from the icy water after wild swimming.

‘Well, it’s always good to get the better of a boar,’ he responded calmly, sticking to facts, not feelings. ‘The thing to remember is you can’t outrun them, so don’t try. Your best bet is to climb a tree. I did,’ he admitted, working on the theory that while he was talking he couldn’t be kissing her, and he wanted to, he really wanted to... He needed to taste her, and the greedy need was hampering his ability to frame coherent sentences. ‘They are incredibly destructive beasts. They cause total havoc. Last year they took over a thousand gallons of grapes and it’s virtually impossible to keep them out. We put down miles of electric fences around the vineyards but they just jump them, and I’d take the tusks of a male over the protective instincts of a female any day.’

‘You think I want a natural history lesson?’

He bent in, struggling to catch her quiet words, but a second later he was leaning back out again, because he had no problem hearing the next thing she said—they probably heard her in the village five miles away.

‘You were enjoying yourself beating the piglets in some macho game while I,’ she shouted, stabbing a straight finger hard into his chest, ‘I,’ she repeated with another stab into his muscular chest, ‘I thought you were dead!’ she shrieked. ‘And it was my fault.’

The fight left her without warning; her legs sagged and she would have slid to the floor had the arm wrapped around her ribs not taken the weight. She looked up at him through the overflow of luminous tears that started to seep out from the corners of her eyes.

‘You’re crying...’ Samuele really didn’t know how to deal with the protective surge he felt as he watched the tears silently slide down her cheeks.

‘No, I’m not,’ she denied fiercely, as though he had insulted her by caring.

Fine, he thought, adopting a heart-of-stone expression, although it was incredibly hard when she looked so fragile...so sexy. ‘You’re in shock.’

Maya wanted to lash back and tell him he had no idea what she was feeling, only neither did she.

The beginnings of a bewildered frown froze in place as he reached out and cupped her face, his fingers cool on her skin. His expression was fierce his concentration total as he followed the path of his thumb as he slid it across the red mark that stood out against the smooth skin of her cheek.

‘Sorry,’ he said, clearly misinterpreting her shiver. ‘You were very stupid—’

She could not in all honesty deny this.

‘And very, very brave...’ He brought his face in close, his nose grazing hers, his breath warm on her cheek. ‘You are driving me totally crazy, you know,’ he rasped, ignoring the voice in his head that told him he was finally losing control of the situation, losing control of himself.

Why bother fighting?said that wicked voice of temptation in his head. Just relax, enjoy it while you can...

His face was so close Maya couldn’t focus, so she closed her eyes and felt his lips against her eyelids.

‘Look at me!’

She responded to the fierce command at the same moment he settled his mouth on hers, the sensuous pressure drawing a whimper from her throat, then, when his tongue slid across the outline of her lips, she grabbed hold of his shirt in handfuls just to stop from sliding to the ground. His lips were cool but she could feel the primal heat coming off him in waves, smell the musky scent of arousal.

Shocked by the fist of need in her belly and the surge of desire that was tangled in with a mess of emotions, she reached up instinctively, her arms curling around his neck, pulling him down to her while arching upwards, wanting...wanting more... Reacting with a fierce little gasp of shock to the very explicit proof of his arousal as she felt the imprint of his erection grinding into her belly.

She was plastered against him, but then with no warning at all the sensual connection was broken and the heat was gone as he physically put her away from him, the only warmth his big hands that still spanned her waist.

‘You understand that this is just sex, right, Maya?’ He’d never slept with a woman where the warning had been needed, because they’d always understood the game; he’d never needed to hear the words to give himself permission to continue, either. It was just sex, he reiterated to himself, panic bolting through him as he imagined her saying no to his question, because she wanted more from him. Because he couldn’t give her more.

The more she totally deserves, taunted the voice of guilt pricking at his conscience.

His eyes were dark and smoky, his skin when she placed a hand flat on his chest was hot too... This was not a rejection, she understood that; it was just him laying out the rules before they started.

As she had never had sex before, she doubted she would notice the difference between that and...anything more. Just sex, he’d called it. But it wasn’t as though she’d asked him for more, was it?

Not as if she deserved more!

Not as if she deserved love.

No wonder your biological mother rejected you...

‘What is it?’he asked, watching the expressions flicker across her lovely face and feeling a rush of protective emotion that was so intense he felt as though someone had reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart.

She shook her head and smiled, feeling suddenly liberated. She would not allow Edward to spoil this moment or any other moment for her. She was not a child any longer with no self-esteem and Samuele was not trying to diminish her, he was only being honest.

‘I was just remembering something someone used to say to me.’

Her stepfather had been so clever at locating a weak spot and exploiting it. He’d clawed at the one tiny shadow inside her heart that still grieved because she’d been abandoned by her own mother, and by the time he’d finished with her, she had carried an echo of that fear into adulthood. It had prevented her having any intimate relationships because she was afraid of being rejected, for being made to feel like that little girl who didn’t deserve love.

‘I will make you forget him, cara.’

She smiled. ‘I’ve already forgotten. I want you, Samuele, you are exactly what I need right now.’

A low growl was released from his throat as the last shreds of control he had placed himself under snapped.

It felt as though she were being swept away by a fast-flowing river as his mouth came crashing down on hers; his grip on her waist tightened as he lifted her up against his tense, hard length. Not thinking through her actions, because she was deep in instinct territory now, she wound her arms around his neck, sinking her fingers into the hair on his nape and kissing him back hard as her legs wrapped tightly around his waist to hold herself there.

He broke off the kiss long enough to give a fierce grin as he slid his hands beneath her bottom and they stumbled the few steps to the stone building.

On the receiving end of Samuele’s deep, drugging, sense-shredding kisses, she barely registered him kicking the door closed behind them, but she knew that they were alone and common sense, along with the rest of the world, was locked outside.

Samuele pushed aside all the plump scatter cushions on the day bed with one sweep of his hand. He sat down on the upholstered edge and Maya, with her legs still around his waist, landed sitting on his lap.

Her head had slid to his shoulder and he hooked a thumb beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his. He could see that her eyes were big and unfocused, the velvety pansy-brown glazed with passion.

With an almost feral groan he kissed her hard, lowering her back onto the day bed, which was wide enough to accommodate them both side by side, but he fell on top of her, a knee braced either side of her body. He pulled himself up just far enough to free his shirt from his jeans and fumbled with the belt. Clenching his teeth with frustration at the delay, he tore at the buttons on his shirt, before tugging at his zip, giving only partial relief from the painful constriction.

Maya placed her hand flat against the ridges of his belly. Simultaneously shocked and excited by the hardness and heat of his skin, she grabbed the loose ends of his belt and tugged. He resisted, drawing a cry of protest from her aching throat that faded into a whimper as he took the edges of the long-sleeved T-shirt she wore and pulled it over her head.

She didn’t have the strength or the will to move her hands, so they still lay splayed above her head in an attitude of submission. Her breath, coming as a series of uneven shallow gasps, snagged on a moan as he slid the straps of her bra over her shoulders, massaging and kissing the skin stretched across the angle of her collarbones before he traced a moist path down the valley between her breasts with his tongue.

He lifted himself off her just enough to fight his way clear of his shirt, and she came up on her knees to help him, kissing his chest as it was revealed, tasting the salt in his sweat as she slid her hands over his golden skin.

Her bra of tartan satin followed his abandoned shirt, sailing somewhere over her head as he threw it away.

‘Dio!’

The peaks of her breasts hardened and tingled under his scrutiny. She arched at the first touch of his hand and fell back onto the day bed, gasping, at this, their first intimate, skin-to-skin contact. She twisted and squirmed against him as her small hands went to the half-open zip of his jeans. She struggled with it until he rolled away and, lifting his hips off the bed, peeled the jeans off along with his boxers. He snatched his wallet from his jeans pocket, before kicking his clothes away until they fell with a thud and clatter on the other side of the room.

Maya swung her legs over the side of the bed and unfastened her cotton pedal pushers. She stood up for a moment to pull them down over her hips and step out of them.

Turning, she reached up to find Samuele’s hands curling around her upper arms, knowing as he found his eyes on her, devouring the abandoned look of her, that it was an image that would stay with him for ever. Her skin was like silk, her body as beautiful as her face, and he knew she was a perfect fit for him.

She was perfect and utterly oblivious to the fact, too. There was nothing feigned about her natural sensuality that made her every move provoking and exciting to Samuele.

She made him feel utterly insatiable... He drew her to him, greedy to touch her everywhere, feel her, explore the smooth softness of her slender, toned body, unable to imagine ever having enough of her.

Lying on top of him, Maya could feel the deep ripples of his muscles as she touched him, exploring the hard counters of his body. Surrendering to the urgency that was burning her up from the inside out, she revelled in the freedom he was giving her to express herself, the lack of any boundaries, as his hands and mouth were everywhere, drawing gasps and moans from her.

When he asked her what she liked she told him with breathless honesty.

‘Everything...every part of you.’

His control broke and then she was beneath him, her legs parted, as he teased her with the pressure of his erection against her damp mound until finally he couldn’t hold out any longer. Grabbing a packet from his wallet, he sheathed himself quickly and surged smoothly into her.

The pleasure that rushed through her as he entered her drew a deep moan of ecstasy from her lips. Gasping and trembling with an overload of feeling, she reached up and kissed him on his mouth before trailing her tongue along the damp corded skin of his throat.

Then it began in earnest, the slow delicious torment of his fluid, sensuous advance and retreat. The intimacy of being joined with him was like nothing she had imagined it could be; she could literally feel the thudding of his heart against her own. Having him inside her felt so incredibly right, and with each thrust he touched a part of her that no one had ever touched before, winding her tighter and tighter until she felt as if she were going to explode into a million stars.

She opened her eyes and saw the raw naked need in his eyes; it was like looking into a mirror and seeing exactly what she felt on someone else’s face.

The sudden intensity of her release was shocking, like free falling without a parachute but with no impact, just waves and waves of bone-deep drowning pleasure that was better than even the most vivid of her dreams...