‘I think we should get some ice on it, just to be sure, and get it raised,’ I say. I was a first-aider back in my swimming days. Lifeguard duty at weekends was a great way to bring in extra pennies and, looking at her swollen foot, ice is definitely a good idea. But I sense nothing happens without Nonna’s buy-in. ‘What do you think, Greta?’
‘Si, buon’idea.’
Or Rafael’s buy-in, it seems, as his deep baritone fills the space and he comes up alongside us, so close I can breathe in his scent, and it makes me remember everything we did this morning. Me, naked. His mouth between my...
‘Ah, Raf...’ Dani beams. ‘I hear you’ve already met Faye.’
Our eyes meet and his mouth twitches.
‘I have. Though I didn’t realise you speak Italian.’
I give a sheepish smile. I know he’s remembering how I questioned the meaning of cara mia. But the query was genuine. It’s hardly the kind of vocab I’m accustomed to hearing when touring the globe conducting pharmaceutical sales.
‘I speak a little. I travel a lot with work.’
Or I used to...
‘Work?’
‘Pharmaceutical sales. Though I’m more UK-based these days.’
His brows lift marginally and I feel not only Nonna’s eyes, but Dani’s and Tyler’s flitting between us. No one speaks. Not even Dani, who speaks enough for the entire population of Italy. And I feel the heat creeping ever more into my cheeks, along with the carnal recollections that seem desperate to clamber up into my sex-starved mind.
‘About that ice...’ I say, needing to break the silence and the burn of being caught out, even though we haven’t been. Not even close.
‘Si, why don’t you give me a hand?’ Rafael suggests. Is it my imagination or has his voice dropped an octave or two? And is he seriously suggesting we go off together? He must sense the series of questions searing my brain as he smiles encouragingly, his eyes too suggestive. And again, is that my mind putting that suggestion there? And do I even care when it means we can be alone again?
‘You sound like you know what you’re talking about,’ he continues.
‘I was a first-aider—lifeguard duty in my teens.’
‘Is that so?’ I feel the appreciative burn of his gaze all the way to my toes. Surely everyone else can read it too? ‘Well, in that case, I’ll point you in the direction of the first-aid kit. I’m sure we can fashion together some sort of compress.’
I swallow. ‘Great.’
‘It’s just in the pool house. This way...’
Us. In the pool house. Alone. Won’t Dani suspect?
But Raf is already heading that way.
Dani nudges me in the side. ‘That’s my brother all over, issuing a command and not waiting for a response.’
I look to her, my own eyes wide behind my glasses, but hers are laughing. She looks happy, not suspicious. Not suspicious at all. My own conscience is doing the guilt thing for me.
‘Right.’ I clear my throat. ‘Okay. One cold compress coming up.’
I follow his luscious rear and don’t look back. I sense Dani’s eyes following us, and I’m not entirely sure we’ve escaped undetected after all, but I’m already being sucked into the impending heat, high on what’s to come...
The pool house is a stone building with a terracotta roof and a stunning pink rose rambling over its walls. It’s pretty and unassuming, the little cobbled path that leads up to it dainty and cute. But, as he opens the door and stands back to let me enter, my heart rate soars, my blood zinging with the look in his eyes. It’s no innocent structure now.
I enter and remove my sunglasses, slipping them into my bag as I scan the walls, the racks of towels and what look like laundry bins, a fridge, a freezer...
I hear the door click shut behind me and start to turn. ‘The first aid—’
I don’t finish. He’s upon me. My hat and bag hit the deck, our lips mash together and I’m pressed up against the wall, my entire body covered in the hot, hard heat of his.
He growls low in his throat. Hungry, fierce. ‘Cazzo, Faye! This outfit. This swimsuit.’ He drags in a breath, his forehead pressing into mine. ‘Are you trying to kill me?’