Bride By Choice

His whispered ‘Goodnight,’ was almost inaudible, but it stopped her. She stood for long moment, her head lowered, looking at his hand, resting in hers. She stepped backwards, still holding him, enticing him to follow her. He took a step, then paused, watching her face until she drew him after her and closed the door.

He reached a tentative hand to the light switch but she stopped him, and they stood in the semi darkness, listening to each other’s soft breathing.

‘Elena,’ he said again, and she didn’t try to make him say Helen. At this moment it seemed quite natural to be Elena, feeling her fierce Sicilian blood pounding in her veins and all her senses leaping towards him.

When he laid his lips on hers she leaned close, and suddenly the barriers were down and they were kissing each other with all the urgency they had tried to deny. It seemed such a long time since their meeting, and yet this kiss was only a continuation of that first one, as though they had been kissing ever since.

‘We said we mustn’t do this,’ he murmured.

‘We were wrong-so wrong-’ She was kissing him madly, already wrought to an unbearable pitch of excitement just by touching him. ‘This is something we-must-do-’

‘Yes,’ he said as his lips moved down her neck. ‘I guess-we always knew that.’

She was distantly aware that his hands were moving, causing her clothes to slip away, one by one. She didn’t know where her dress went, but without it she was wearing hardly anything.

‘I must have been crazy asking you to wear that thing,’ he gasped. ‘It’s been torturing me all evening.’ He was tearing off his clothes.

She could barely see him in the semi dark, but she knew the width of his shoulders, and she enjoyed drawing her fingers over the hard muscles. ‘Life guard,’ Dilys had called him, making a joke of it, but as Helen savoured his power and beauty all laughter died in her, replaced by thrilling anticipation.

She had been so full of doubt, but now her doubts were fading to nothing, overcome by the magic of his caresses. This was Lorenzo, whose touch excited her as no other man’s had ever done.

He drew her down onto the bed and eased off her panties, then looked at her for a long time, his eyes full of delight, a little smile of appreciation on his lips. Slowly he drew his fingertips down the side of her face and across her lips. It was the lightest movement but it filled her with fire, and she let out her breath slowly, relishing the feelings that were taking possession of her. He dropped his head to let his lips take over, touching her mouth softly, teasing it with intent.

Thus distracted, she didn’t realise at first that his hands were on the move again, finding her breasts, caressing them with skilful movements that sent the warmth rushing through her. When he laid his lips against them it was almost a gesture of reverence, but it set off a tempest within her that blew away the last of her caution. She opened her mouth, luring him in and challenging him so that his own excitement mounted.

Her mouth, her face, her breasts all came to new life under his kisses, and she responded eagerly to the demands of his lips and hands. He had the body of a man who lived an active outdoor life, lean, muscular, honed to vigorous perfection. She could feel his strength but also his control and tenderness, his consideration and generosity, and her love flowed out to encompass him. This was right. This was how it was always meant to be.

She knew that at any moment he would move over her, and she was ready for him, eager. Wanting him with all her being, she reached for him…

The bedside phone shrilled.

‘Oh, no!’ she cried. ‘Let’s ignore it, until it stops.’

‘Cara, I’m not a man of iron,’ Lorenzo groaned. ‘You’ll have to answer it.’

‘But who could want me at this hour?’ she wailed in frustration.

‘Find out, and get rid of them quickly.’

Helen snatched up the phone. ‘Hello.’

‘I must speak to Lorenzo Martelli urgently,’ said a female voice. ‘He’s not in his room. Please, do you know where he is?’

‘He’s here,’ Helen said reluctantly, and passed the receiver to Lorenzo while she slid off the bed.

She took her silk wrap from the wardrobe, pulled it on and went into the bathroom to give him some privacy. But she couldn’t avoid hearing him say ‘Carissima!’ into the phone. She closed the door, muttering Sicilian curses under her breath, mostly directed at the receptionist who had seen them together earlier, and must have directed the caller to her room.

As she splashed water on her face and tried to calm her shattered nerves Helen thought of the voice on the phone, with its soft, feminine vibrancy. It was a sweet, charming voice, and Lorenzo had said ‘Carissima!’ with an affectionate urgency that revealed a lot. One moment he’d been tense at the interruption to his love-making. The next instant this strange woman had claimed all his attention.

‘Stop this!’ she told her reflection firmly. ‘You’re thinking nonsense!’

But her blood was still pounding in her veins with the heated anticipation that his touch had induced. Her whole body wanted him wildly, and ‘Carissima’ had come between them.

When she heard the click of the receiver being replaced she went out, and what she saw wiped her own problems from her mind.

‘Darling, what is it?’ she asked anxiously, taking hold of his arms. ‘Whatever’s happened to make you like this?’

She would never have believed that Lorenzo could look so distraught, so ill. When he spoke he sounded as though he were forcing the words out through a daze of shock.

‘That was Heather, my sister-in-law. Mamma has been taken ill.’

‘Oh, no! How?’

‘She has a weak heart and she’s had a bad turn. She’s had them before, but they’re worried about this one. I have to go home.’

He shook his head as though trying to clear it, and Helen put her arms right around him, holding him in a wordless message of comfort. He held her back, very tightly.

‘She’s been frail for years,’ he said, ‘but somehow she always came through, and you get to take it for granted that she always will. But Heather’s worried. She’s so old-’

‘Then the sooner you get home, the better. Get packed while I arrange your flight.’

‘Helen,’ he said suddenly, ‘come with me.’

‘What?’

He looked searchingly into her face. ‘Come to Sicily with me. I’ll need you there if-’

‘Hush, it won’t happen.’ She kissed him lightly. ‘But of course I’ll come.’

He began to pull on his clothes while she picked up the phone to call the desk. But before she could speak Lorenzo reached out and cut her off.

‘No,’ he said, ‘you mustn’t come. Forget I said it?’

She looked at him in shock. ‘You don’t want me?’

‘Of course I want you, but you have your job to get back to. What was I thinking of, asking you go half way around the world just to suit me? Forgive me.’

‘What are you talking about?’ she demanded. ‘If you want me with you, that’s where I’m going to be.’

‘But your job, you’ve worked so hard and this is no time to be taking risks-’

‘To hell with the risk. I’ll talk to Erik, he’ll help us.’

‘You’re wonderful,’ he said simply.

Irrationally she felt tears start to her eyes. She brushed them away and called the reception desk. In a few minutes they were booked to New York, where they would connect with a flight to Sicily. Then she called Erik. As she had hoped, he was glad to help her.

‘You’ll need your passport,’ he said. ‘I’ll get Dilys to take it to JFK.’

When she’d finished the call Helen sat still, trying to understand what had happened to her. Lorenzo was right. She should be concentrating on the job that had always been so vital to her. But all she could think of was him, and the anguished look on his face, and her need to comfort him.