The Mysterious Italian Houseguest

Nothing felt wrong. Everything felt right. For the first time since Aldo had died Javier finally had some peace. He could finally contemplate a future. And he knew exactly who he wanted to contemplate it with. Her breath was quickening, their kisses becoming more fevered, and he reluctantly pulled his lips from hers and pressed his forehead against hers.

‘Ms Marlowe?’ he said hoarsely.

She looked up through thick lashes. ‘Yes?’ Her voice was shaking.

He held out his hand to take her gloved one. ‘Let me introduce you to the magic of opera. Let me introduce you to The Marriage of Figaro.’

* * *

It was as if she were in her own movie.

She was the heroine. And he was the hero.

In some ways she felt as if it were all unreal. As if at any moment she’d wake up from this wonderful dream.

The limousine whisked them to the Teatro di San Carlo. As soon as they stepped outside it was like being on the red carpet. Javier was recognised instantly. She could feel the electricity in the air around them. His hand stayed firmly at her back.

Cameras flashed intermittently. Javier shook hands with people and charmed his way along the row of staff who were standing outside the opera house.

As soon as they stepped inside her nerves increased. There were many hushed voices and glances in their direction. What a fool. She hadn’t given this enough thought.

She’d got used to the anonymity of L’Isola dei Fiori. Of not looking over her shoulder and worrying about what she looked like. It was odd. The thought had flitted through her mind when they were on the ferry. But since they’d arrived in the hotel it had been like their own private world, and when she’d stepped outside the room and seen Javier’s face, all she’d been able to think about was him and her.

Another glass of champagne was placed in her hand and she gathered Sofia’s dress in one hand as they walked up the stairs.

Walking into the teatro was like entering another world.

It was breathtaking. The whole theatre was circular, set around the large stage. Red plush seats filled the stalls and sweeping around the walls were five tiers of individual boxes. White and gold gilt decorated the walls with sweeping red velvet curtains at each of the boxes.

Javier smiled at her and led her up a set of private stairs. A staff member held the door open for her and she stepped inside. And then stopped.

They were directly facing the stage. The box had large sumptuous seats and gold gilt decoration all around. ‘What is this?’ she whispered.

He smiled. ‘We’re in the royal box.’

‘The what?’ It was almost as if the air had been sucked from her chest. Maybe this dress was tighter than she thought.

He gestured to her to sit down. The chair was almost like a throne, possibly the grandest chair she’d ever seen. She perched gingerly on the edge while an amused Javier watched. More champagne was waiting for them in the box along with strawberries. ‘I thought you might be hungry.’ he said with a shrug. Javier settled next to her as the lights started to dim around them.

‘Do you know the story of The Marriage of Figaro?’

She nodded. ‘I’ve never seen it though.’

He smiled and rested back in his chair as he clasped her hand. ‘Then sit back and enjoy, let the magic begin.’

From the first beat of the music it was like a spell being weaved around her. Figaro, Susanna and the Count gripped her attention. Every one of Mozart’s notes, every harmony, every element of comedy had her enthralled. The music from the opera filled every part of the huge theatre, reverberating around them.

In the dark of the theatre their box seemed ultimately private. So when Javier nuzzled at her neck she didn’t object. He fed her strawberries, which trickled down her chin. The champagne made her hiccup, which set her off in a fit of giggles.

And he didn’t let go of her hand the whole night.

She stopped worrying about her work and her life in Hollywood. Javier only had eyes for her. His attention was mesmerising. They whispered to each other. They kissed. She’d never been so connected.

Her heart was swelling so much it felt as though it would fill her chest. When the last beat of music had finished she leapt to her feet and applauded as loudly as she could.

Javier was at her side. ‘Did you like it?’

She couldn’t hold back the enthusiasm that was bubbling inside. She threw her arms around his neck. ‘I didn’t like it, I loved it.’

He looked so amused, but she felt safe around him, assured in his arms. That glint in his eye sent little shockwaves all around her body. No one had ever made her feel like this. No one had ever made her feel so special, and so loved.

She forgot about everyone else around them as they walked hand in hand to the limousine. She only had eyes for Javier. And it seemed he only had eyes for her.

By the time they’d reached the hotel she was breathless with anticipation.

The journey in the lift only took a few seconds and she held her breath the whole way.

Javier was quiet. Maybe he was feeling the same way. As the doors slid open she could see candles flickering all around the suite. Gentle music was playing in the background. It was magical.

But for some reason her feet couldn’t move.

Javier stepped out of the lift and turned and held his hand out towards her. ‘Ms Marlowe...’ he bowed before her ‘...will you be my guest?’

Every part of her was trembling. But it wasn’t nerves. It was excitement.

She’d never wanted anything more.

‘I’d love to,’ she answered as she put her hand in his.

Javier pulled her up against him. They’d never danced together before and this felt exactly how it should.

She slid her arms up to his shoulders and pressed her body against his, moving in time with the music. Javier’s mouth trailed kisses down the side of her face and along her shoulder and neck. His touch so light, it was like butterfly wings against her skin.

Her skin was on fire. Every sense aching for his touch. His fingers traced a line down her closed eyes, past her mouth and over the delicate skin at her decoupage, stopping tantalisingly at the mound of her breasts. He moved it across her chest and down the length of one arm, spinning her around so she had her back to him and peeling her glove, oh, so slowly, so temptingly down her arm. It was like being part of an exotic and extremely private striptease. The next glove followed just as slowly. She could feel the planes of his chest and abdomen pressed against her back. She sucked in a breath as his hand slid between their bodies and rested in the arch between her shoulder blades. The noise of the slide of the zipper was achingly teasing. As the pressure of the dress released around her, she spun around, letting it fall on the floor at her feet and leaving her standing in only her underwear in front of him.

She didn’t feel embarrassed. She didn’t feel exposed. She just lifted her hands and started slowly pulling his bow tie apart. He stood still, not moving as she took charge. Instead, she relished him watching the candlelight dance over her body as she slowly undid each button on his shirt. Once she’d pulled it apart she slid her hands over the planes of his chest as he let out a groan. He pulled her bare breasts against his now bare chest.

‘Do you know what you’re doing to me, Portia Marlowe?’

She licked her lips as she lowered her gaze. ‘Pretty much the same as you’re doing to me, Mr Russo. How about we see where this takes us?’

She let out a whimper as his hands slid over the curves of her bottom. ‘Let’s see indeed,’ he groaned as he lowered her to the floor.

CHAPTER SEVEN

HE WOKE UP with the sheets tangled around him and her bare body pressed against his.

In previous circumstances he’d always known there would be an end poi

nt in the relationship. He’d never been sworn on forever.

But with Portia he just couldn’t picture how things would come to a natural end.

He didn’t want to.

She smiled as she turned around, still sleeping, and reached out to press her head against his chest. He ran his fingertip down her nose. ‘Hey, sleepyhead. We need to wake up at some point. We need to get back to our own private paradise.’

She let out a groan, still not opening her eyes. ‘I like the sound of that.’

But she wasn’t finished. She stretched, then swung one leg over his body, sitting astride him and brushing her lips against his. ‘I love Villa Rosa, but I’m kind of liking it here too. Why don’t we stay another night? Do a tour of the city like you said?’

He hesitated, trying to find the words. But they didn’t come quickly enough. His mind was blank. Everything had gone well yesterday. But he was anxious to finish at Villa Rosa and get back to the real world. Get back to where he felt he could make a difference. He just hadn’t had a chance to talk to Portia about it yet.