An Italian Dream

Stella snorted. ‘There have been two waste-of-space husbands, but not any longer. It’s just me, Chloe, of course, and I have a thirteen-year-old son too.’

‘So you deserve to not worry.’ He looked at her with a gleam in his eyes.

‘What about you?’ She wanted to turn the conversation away from herself. ‘No wife, girlfriend, kids?’

‘I have never been married, no.’ He looked away from her for a moment, gazing across the deck to where Chloe and Amber were laughing with the other three guys. ‘I have a four-year-old son with an ex-girlfriend. We weren’t serious, but it happened and I support them.’

‘You’re not in their lives?’

‘She moved back to Milano to be close to her family. I spend most of my time in Roma – it’s where the business is, where I work.’

‘When you’re not sailing along the Amalfi Coast.’ She gave him a sly grin.

‘Ha, si. That is true.’ He shifted on the daybed and rested his arm along the back of the cushions behind her. ‘I like my life,’ he continued smoothly. ‘I don’t want to settle down. She knew that from the beginning, before she got pregnant. Not that I regret that happening either.’

‘You see your son?’

‘I’m in his life, yes.’

His fingers brushed her shoulder. She snuggled back into him, resting into the warm crook of his chest. He smelt delicious, which made her glad that she’d spritzed on the Fiori di Capri perfume she’d bought from Carthusia. The amount of money she’d spent since arriving on Capri was more than she’d ever spent on anything apart from her car and her house. But this was all luxury stuff, wonderful but unnecessary, unlike an MOT or getting the boiler fixed.

Stella stretched her legs out. She sensed Luca watching. Goodness, she loved flirting; she loved the way he was paying her attention. It briefly crossed her mind what her daughter would think, but then Chloe was still at an age where she believed the world revolved around her. Stella was pretty sure she’d either be oblivious or would choose to completely ignore it. She was living her best life too. Eighteen years old and her mum had won the Lottery, and here they were living it up on a yacht. It was quite different from her own teen years with Friday evenings out in Bristol, snogging a bloke in Ritzy’s and ending the night eating chips from a kebab shop outside the Hippodrome.

‘I know I’m treating Chloe with this holiday, but my worry with the money is I’m going to be doing everything for me. I don’t want to be selfish. I need to think about the kids.’

‘But Chloe is grown up, no?’

Stella snorted. ‘As grown up as an eighteen-year-old who still relies on me doing her washing when she comes back from uni can be.’

Luca laughed, but Stella wondered if he actually understood. She imagined he’d never done his own washing in his life. They were floating on a luxury yacht with a crew of sixteen at their beck and call. It was quite the existence. No wonder he didn’t want to give it up for the restrictions of family life.

‘Where’s your son now?’ Luca asked.

‘With his dad. It’s a school holiday and they’re coming out next week for the last couple of days to celebrate my birthday.’

‘Ah, happy birthday for next week.’ He snuggled closer until his hand was dangling tantalisingly close to her bikini-clad breast. ‘The money will give you freedom if you don’t let it worry you.’ His breath tickled her ear. He was so close, so warm against her.

‘It’s not so much having the money that worries me, although it’s a huge adjustment, and besides coming here I haven’t really done much with it yet. It’s more what other people will think and how they will behave, that’s my concern. I’ve told very few people. Not even my exes know yet.’

‘I am in a different situation to you. I’ve always had money, but I understand it could be stressful. And it’s not selfish to think of yourself for once.’

‘It feels like that’s all I’m doing at the moment.’

His fingers connected with her skin, caressing the curve of her breast. ‘Do you want to go to the jacuzzi?’ Luca’s deep voice was soft and sensuous in her ear. ‘It’ll be quieter.’

The fluttering in her chest and the warmth spreading through her intensified as they took their drinks and wandered through the inside lounge area to the top deck at the stern. The attention of a good-looking guy just wanting fun was what she craved.

They swapped the view of Positano for the glittering Tyrrhenian Sea dotted with boats and yachts anchored on the azure water. Somewhere out there was Capri and Fern. As she took Luca’s hand and stepped down into the warm water of the jacuzzi, she got another wave of guilt that she’d left Fern on her own. At least from her text this morning, it sounded as if she was enjoying herself.

Luca kissing her stopped her thoughts in their tracks. She slid her arms around his waist, tugging him closer and kissing him back. The water was warm, almost as delicious as the feeling of his hands caressing her skin, gliding across her hips, her waist, up her sides, only slowing when they reached her bikini top… When they’d been lounging on the daybed she’d been thinking how wonderful that initial spark with someone was, the thrill of the first kiss and where that would lead. This was what she’d wanted; the excitement of a blossoming relationship, one that she knew wouldn’t go beyond her time in Capri. He’d been honest with her – he was a player, with no desire to settle down. He was young, good-looking and rich. He probably picked up a woman in each marina. She knew the score and yet she didn’t care one little bit…

He took her hand and led her from the jacuzzi towards the lower deck and the bedrooms. She knew she wasn’t going to say no. She didn’t want to. Right now she didn’t even care if the girls found out. She was hardly ancient. God, was Fern missing out. She had given up all of this because she was married and worried about what it would look like to Paul. Well, fuck Paul. She’d make that whole mess right. But not now. Right that moment, nothing else mattered.

They didn’t make it as far as the bed. Her wet bikini and his shorts landed on the soft-pile carpet. He pulled her down with him on the sofa. The blinds were open and it briefly crossed her mind as she slid on top of him that the view on to the deck towards the Amalfi Coast was utterly spectacular.