‘Are you mad to go with them? They’re all hot for you.’
‘Don’t worry,’ she chuckled, ‘there’s safety in numbers. If any one of them gets too near me the others will toss him into the canal. Goodnight.’
Waving over her shoulder, she sauntered off, pursued by an eager crowd.
As she’d predicted, her admirers behaved themselves, and once in the hotel she rewarded them by sharing a drink in the downstairs bar before retiring to her room, adamantly refusing
An orchestra was playing in St Mark’s Piazza, just out of sight. It was a sweet, aching tune and she listened to it with a faint smile, wondering how long Salvatore would be.
Exactly an hour later the bell on her door rang as though someone was leaning against it. She opened to find Salvatore, his shirt wrenched open, his hair awry. He was through the crack in a moment, locking the door behind him.
‘I take it you knew I’d be coming,’ he grated.
‘I had a feeling you might be dropping in.’
‘What the hell did you think you were doing?’
‘Being a good guest, entering into the spirit of things, having a good time.’
‘You had a good time all right, and so did everyone else, with you putting it all on display.’
‘If you mean that as an insult, Salvatore, you’re way off the mark. It’s my trade. It’s how I earn my living,
That drove him mad, she was glad to see. She might be taking a risk, provoking him, but she didn’t care. She was high on excitement, dizzy with power, desperate to provoke him further and then further. It had been too long.
‘Of course,’ she added, nudging him on, ‘you have to know exactly how to do it-subtly is best.’
She was pulling at the fastening of her skirt, which was separate from the top. It came away easily and she tossed it aside-perhaps it had been designed that way. Salvatore was watching her, breathing hard. She backed further, reaching for her top.
But he beat her to it, reaching out to grasp the black silk and yank it away. A ripping sound, and it was gone. Then he was throwing off his own clothes, seizing her and tossing her down onto the bed.
‘Suppose I asked you to leave?’ she demanded.
His fingers were working at her black slip, tearing it off, revealing the naked breasts. Her delicate panties went the same way and at last he was there, between her legs, inside her, not seeking permission, just entering, completing her, owning her.
Something that had been raging inside her during the days apart came up to meet him, exploded then yielded, melting but ready again at once. Later she would regain her independence, challenge him, defy him. For now this was all that mattered.
‘So now,’ he growled in her ear, ‘now what do you say?’
Slowly she turned her head on the pillow, meeting his eyes, her own full of mocking humour, murmuring, ‘I say-what took you so long?’
CHAPTER TEN
‘HOW did you get away so soon?’ she murmured. ‘I thought it would take you much longer.’
‘One of my aunts took pity on me and told me to clear off because I was useless.’
They were lying in the dark. It was almost dawn and they had loved each other to exhaustion. Now they simply lay together, naked, resting.
‘I’ll have to go back soon,’ he groaned, ‘and spend today being a host. But the last of them will leave early tomorrow, and then I’ll come straight here. I want to be alone with you.’
‘That sounds lovely,’ she said. ‘But is it possible to be alone in Venice?’
‘It is where I’m going to take you.’
‘Where’s that?’
He grinned. ‘Wait and see. All I’ll tell you is-wear sensible clothes.’
‘Define sensible.’
‘Shirt and trousers.’
Reluctantly he got out of bed and began picking up his clothes from the floor. When he’d finished dressing he sat on the bed and took her hand, gazing down at it.
‘What I said about “your cut,”’ he said awkwardly. ‘You know I-’
‘I know,’ she said gently.
‘I’d have said anything to hurt you. I’m afraid I’m like that.’
‘So am I,’ she admitted.
‘I don’t believe that. But sometimes a cruel devil comes over me and I give in to it.’
She sat up and rested her cheek against his shoulder.
‘Sometimes the urge to make a dramatic effect is just too strong,’ she offered.
‘Thank you. That’s very generous.’
She chuckled. ‘Let me give you a tip about making an effect. When you get home, don’t creep in. Make sure everyone knows that you were away for hours.’
He stared at her, his eyes gleaming.
‘You mean-?’
‘Then those eager young lads will know that you achieved what they couldn’t,’ she finished triumphantly.
‘You’re a wicked, wicked woman,’ he said fervently, kissing her.
‘I know. Isn’t it fun? Now be off. I need lots of sleep before I can be wicked again.’
She spent most of that day dozing in perfect contentment. Next morning there was a message from Salvatore to be ready on the dot of ten. He was there promptly, driving a large white motor boat. His eyebrows rose when he saw her attire.
‘You said trousers,’ she defended herself.
‘I also said sensible, not trousers that hug your waist and hips so tightly that-well-’
‘They’re the only ones I have.’
‘Yes, I suppose they are. Get in, and I’ll try to keep my mind on my driving. It won’t be easy but I’ll try.’
It was a glorious day, full of the sparkling delight of early summer. As the boat headed out over the lagoon she stood beside him, rejoicing in the feel of the wind in her hair.
‘Where are we going?’ she yelled above the noise of the engine.
‘To one of the islands.’
She knew there were about a dozen small islands in the lagoon, places so small that nobody lived there, and as they went further out she guessed they were heading for one of these. Even so she had a surprise when Salvatore finally drew into a tiny cove. There was a small landing stage and a post with a metal ring to which he tethered the boat.
‘It’s so tiny,’ she said, astonished. ‘At least, what I can see of it is tiny.’
‘That’s right. It’s about half a mile in one direction, and three quarters of a mile in another. When we’ve gone through those trees at the edge of the beach you’ll be able to see the whole place.’
The ground sloped up so that as they emerged from the trees Helena found that she did indeed have a perfect view of the tiny island, including how the shore curved away on each side, until it enclosed the island in the distance. Looking around, she discovered that she could just make out Venice far away across the lagoon.
She stood for a moment, revelling in the perfect peace of this little place, where the only sound was birdsong, and the soft lapping of the waves.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she murmured. ‘Is it yours?’
‘Yes. It used to belong to my mother. She brought me here when I was a child, and promised that one day it
