Cinderella In The Sicilian's World

ad felt all his resolve slipping away.

‘I don’t want to go. I want you to teach me,’ she had whispered.

‘Teach you what?’ he remembered whispering back, even though the silken caress of her fingers around the hard jerk of his erection had told him exactly what form her proposed lessons should take.

‘About pleasure,’ she’d purred.

And he had. God forgive him, but he’d done exactly that. Maybe it had been the heady combination of innocence and appetite which had completely blown his mind. Or the fact that she’d been so eager to learn the things which pleased him. Whatever the reason, he had been suckered in—losing himself in her amazing body, over and over again—until the rose and saffron light of dawn had begun to glimmer on the horizon.

He looked across the room at her as she sat framed against the white pillows, like some fallen Madonna. Her blue-black curls were wild and a rosy flush emphasised the angled slant of her cheekbones and suddenly he wanted her all over again. ‘Won’t anyone notice that you’ve gone?’ he questioned as, abruptly, he moved a little further away from the temptation of the bed. ‘Won’t they care that you didn’t bother going home last night?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m safe. I sent a text to my friend Rosa in the neighbouring village, asking her to cover for me if my mother rang up.’

‘Well, you’d better go and shower. Maybe do something with your hair,’ he offered critically. ‘And then I’ll arrange to have your scooter loaded up onto one of the trucks. I can drop you off on the outskirts of your village so you don’t have to drive the whole way back.’

‘No, really. There’s no need. I’m perfectly capable of making my own way home.’

His eyes narrowed, as if he was unused to having his wishes overturned, and Lina managed a thin smile as she pushed aside the rumpled sheets and got out of bed. But her bravado only lasted as long as it took her to get to the bathroom, where she leaned against the door, her heart thumping as she thought: What have I done? She stood beneath a terrifyingly efficient shower while powerful jets of water briefly lessened the aching of her body, but nothing could eradicate the painful clench of her heart as she realised that last night hadn’t been as straightforward as she had imagined. It was supposed to be about sex and only sex. So why had it felt like something more? Why, when Salvatore had kissed her and stroked and caressed her, had she felt more cherished than she’d ever done before? And it was dangerous to feel that way. She knew that. He’d spelt out word by brutal word that he wasn’t looking for anything more.

Raking her fingers through her curls and scrambling into last night’s clothes, she returned to the bedroom to find that a tray of coffee had magically appeared. Was his housekeeper back on the premises? she wondered awkwardly as she recalled the unmistakable look of disapproval she’d seen clouding the woman’s watchful eyes when she’d arrived.

‘Sit down. Have some of this before you go,’ Salvatore said as he handed her a delicate cup of the inky brew.

She didn’t want to sit down, but she took the coffee and it was delicious. Lina drank down the strong and reviving liquid before picking up her rucksack, and as she straightened up she knew she had to put on the performance of a lifetime.

‘Right.’ Her smile was bright. ‘I think that’s everything. It’s time I was on my way.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Lina—’

‘No.’ She would never know where she got the nerve to cut off what sounded like words of regret, but Lina realised it was imperative she didn’t slink away, acting as if she’d committed some sort of shameful crime. Because she hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d had sex—amazing sex—with a man who had turned out to be a skilled and considerate lover. Surely that was something to rejoice about? He hadn’t promised her the stars and she hadn’t asked for them. ‘You don’t have to say anything, because it isn’t necessary,’ she continued. ‘I enjoyed it. More than I ever imagined I would. I’ve never done anything like this before and I doubt I ever will again. So I’ll just say goodbye and let you get on with your day.’

She wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t enjoyed the very real sense of discomfiture which briefly darkened his features—as if her words were confusing him. As if he was the one who always called the shots and resented anyone else for daring to take on that role. But what could he say? He certainly couldn’t object to her dignified departure, could he? She was liberating him from all responsibility and, as a result, Lina felt an unfamiliar sense of liberation herself.

‘I’ll see you out.’

‘Honestly, there’s no need. I can find my own way out.’

Some of his steeliness returned as he gritted out his next words. ‘I said, I’ll see you out.’

It felt weird to retrace her steps of the previous night and even weirder to see her little scooter sitting outside the grand villa, with the helmet hung neatly over the handle, looking so sparkly that she guessed the chauffeur must have polished it. But she guessed that was what happened when you were as rich as Salvatore...you just turned your back for a moment or two, and some underling was busy making your world look all perfect and shiny.

‘Lina.’

She looked up into his rugged features and saw the sudden darkening of his eyes and for a moment she thought he was about to kiss her goodbye—as if he were offering her some kind of small consolation prize. And something told her that if she allowed him to do that, then all her newfound bravado might just crumble and disappear. Because wasn’t her dignity vital at a time like this? Quickly, she took a step back and saw his brow knit together in a frown.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Your housekeeper is standing behind the shutters watching and she can see everything.’

‘I don’t care what she can see.’

She thought about the things he’d said. About her having squandered her virginity. Why would she want to kiss a man who had delivered such a damning assessment of their night together? Lina crammed her crash helmet down over her curls. ‘Well, maybe I do.’

With a feeling close to disbelief, Salvatore watched her walk towards her bike. He’d expected her to hang around until they’d exchanged phone numbers, at least. But instead Lina Vitale was buckling up her helmet as if she couldn’t wait to put as much distance between them as possible and, as a consequence, that made him reluctant to see her go, because he was a man who always liked to do the leaving.

He watched as she swung one shapely leg over her little moped and although the denim shorts could in no way be described as revealing, he knew all too well the soft and velvety flesh which lay beneath. Flesh which had been soft and full, like an overripe damson before it dropped to the ground, weighted down by all that sweet, dark juice. He told himself he should be grateful that she had accepted the limitations of their night together with such grace.

But as she twisted the hand-grip of her little scooter and the engine spluttered into life, he could feel the renewed heat of his blood. And a frustrated beat of longing washed over him as she drove away down the drive, the streaming banner of her hair shining blue-black in the bright Sicilian morning.