Her hand reached for one of the dresses Patrizio had bought her when they had gone to Paris for a week during the first few months of their marriage. She pressed her face against it, her eyes closing as she felt the soft brush of chiffon against her cheek, the faint hint of his aftershave clinging to the fabric making her feel an unbearable aching emptiness.
She heard a sound behind her and came face to face with Marietta, who was carrying a bundle of Patrizio’s neatly ironed casual clothes.
‘Signora Trelini,’ she said with a smile. ‘It is good to see you again. I am so glad you are returning to Signor Trelini. He has not been happy since you left.’
‘Hello, Marietta,’ Keira said shyly, still clutching the dress to her chest. ‘I haven’t been happy since I left either.’
The housekeeper beamed. ‘I knew it would all work out in the end,’ she said. ‘You and Signor Trelini are…how you say…soul mates, sì?’
‘Sì,’ Keira agreed, hoping she sounded convincing.
Marietta put the clothes she was carrying on the shelves before turning back to her. ‘I will leave you to get dressed,’ she said. ‘Your husband told me you are going out to dinner to celebrate your reconciliation.’
‘Er…yes…we are,’ Keira said.
‘I have left towels in the en suite for you,’ Marietta informed her. ‘I thought you might like to freshen up.’
‘Thank you, Marietta,’ Keira said, grimacing as she looked down at her jeans. ‘A shower would be lovely.’
The stinging spray did much to wash away the stickiness of the day, the creamy shampoo and conditioner she used on her hair leaving it bouncing with springy curls.
She looked at her reflection and bit her lip. There were shadows beneath her violet-blue eyes and her face looked even paler than it usually was. She leaned closer and frowned when she saw the dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Her small supply of make-up was at her poky little flat in St Kilda; all she had was a tub of lip-gloss in her purse.
She smoothed down the black dress and, slipping her feet into the high-heeled sandals she’d chosen, she went back downstairs.
Patrizio was waiting for her in the large open-plan lounge, a small measure of spirits in his hand. ‘Would you care for a drink before we leave?’ he asked.
Keira wondered what he would say if she told him she no longer touched alcohol. She hadn’t dared after what had happened with Garth. ‘No, thank you,’ she said. ‘I had some water upstairs.’
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His eyes ran over her. ‘You look very beautiful, cara,’ he said.
She shifted nervously. ‘Thank you…’
He closed the distance between them and lifted her chin, his eyes burning into hers. ‘Marietta and Salvatore have not yet left,’ he said in a low deep undertone. ‘We are in love again, no?’
‘No…I mean yes…’ Keira answered, her heart beginning to thump as his thumb moved over her bottom lip, back and forth as if rediscovering the cushioned contours.
He pressed his mouth to hers for a nanosecond before lifting his head, his tongue sweeping over his lips where she could see a faint imprint of her lip-gloss shining.
‘Mmm,’ he said, running his tongue over his lips. ‘You taste of strawberries, or is it cherries?’
Keira felt her belly tremble with desire as he bent his head once more. Her lashes came down over her eyes as his mouth covered hers, the barely there touch of his lips sending her senses into a frenzy. She felt the slight rasp of his tongue as it pushed against the seam of her mouth, her stomach giving a swift hard kick of excitement as the pressure subtly increased. Her lips parted to accommodate him, the smooth gliding entry of his tongue making every hair on her head stand to attention as it flicked against hers.
That first erotic thrust sent all thought of control out of her head. Her hands clung to him unashamedly, her fingers curling into the front of his shirt, her mouth locked on his, her tongue dancing with his in a sexy tango that mimicked the most intimate union of all.
She could feel the heavy pulse of desire beating deep and low in her body, every nerve tightening in tingling awareness as his mouth worked its magic on hers. She felt the hard ridge of his erection swelling against her belly, the heady reminder of all they had shared in the past.
Keira vaguely registered the sound of the front door closing and her eyes sprang open when Patrizio ended the kiss with an abruptness she found totally disorienting.
‘Marietta and Salvatore have gone,’ he said, stepping back from her. ‘I was expecting one or both of them to come in and say good evening. The kiss was for their benefit, not mine.’
Keira ran her tongue over her still tingling lips. ‘I see…’
He sent her one of his inscrutable looks. ‘We will have to perform from time to time,’ he said. ‘I would not want you to misinterpret anything in such physical exchanges.’
She swallowed back her pain. ‘I understand…’