A Dark Beginning: A China Dark Novel (19 page)

Before their meal arrived China was about to reach across and clasp Philip’s hand and tell him that he could relax when there was a familiar roar from the car park. Her eyes rolled back in her head. Such perfect timing. As they did yesterday, all heads turned to see the rocket shaped car arrive and the handsome man make his grand entrance. He looked suitably and irritatingly satisfied with the response. Smug, was the immediate word that came to China’s mind.

Yet again he locked eyes with China and she defiantly returned his stare. She saw his eyes slowly assess her body, a lingering look that contained not one iota of embarrassment on his part. She wanted Philip to object, but he just sat there quietly opposite her. When she turned to look at him, willing him to say something, to tell the arrogant bastard to stop staring at his wife, she could see she was wasting her time. Philip’s eyes flicked backward and forward between the car and the man. She wasn’t sure which one he was in love with more. All of last night’s frustration flooded back, and she started to seethe.

“Let’s see how you really like it then,” she said between clenched teeth, throwing her white linen napkin onto the table and taking her wine glass to the bar. She stood next to the man, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of her while she walked haughtily, and quite elegantly she believed, across the dining room floor.

“Have you quite finished staring at me?” she asked the man. She almost faltered as she saw his eyes up close for the first time. They were hazel, flecked with coffee and chocolate shades, and with highlights of flecked gold. Too light for his olive skin, she thought, but she couldn’t deny the hypnotic effect. As she stood close to him she could smell lemons, herbs and expensive leather.

His Italian accent instantly melted her heart. “Not quite. I may never finish.”

She glanced nervously back and saw to her horror that the whole restaurant were watching them. A few of the guests looked over at Philip to see his reaction, but his face was impossible to read. He was intently studying what his wife was doing, neither smiling nor frowning. Just watching.

“Well, it’s very rude,” she said turning back to him.

“A real man should not send his wife over to do his dirty work. If he wanted me to stop staring at his wife, why wouldn’t he tell me himself?”

“He doesn’t want you to stop staring. I do.”

“In which case I apologise,” he said. Instantly the arrogance left his face and it softened into pure handsomeness. His eyes sparkled, almost magically, golden fireflies in liquid caramel. “We have got off on the wrong foot. My fault. I am a natural show off I’m afraid. I am Leandro.” He held out a slender hand which she took and shook once, not caring about the open mouths and staring eyes from the surrounding tables. His elegantly manicured fingers held her and she was surprised that his hands were actually quite rough in texture. His eyes asked the question before he finally did. “And your name?”

“I’m China,” she said confidently, relishing the sound of her own name and the impact its uniqueness had on others. His eyes smiled as he heard the name.

“Indeed,” he said, still holding her hand. “Very pleased to meet you. I would buy you a proper drink.” He waved dismissively at the wine in her hand. He spoke to the waiter in quick Italian, who scuttled off and came back after a few moments with a bottle of champagne. China realized that Leandro was still holding her hand so she quickly withdrew it.

Carefully studying the label on the bottle, Leandro nodded. “A Boërl & Kroff ninety-six,” he told her. “My favourite. I thought a rosé would be preferred.”

The delicate pink glass of bubbles was divine. She was not enough of a connoisseur to know anything much about champagne vintages but she knew what she liked and she liked this a lot. “It’s nice,” she said.

Leandro grimaced slightly and raised his eyebrows in an almost comical way. “Nice?” he said, his eyes glimmering with a certain menace that China actually found very exciting. “One of the most expensive champagnes in the world, and one of the best vintages of that champagne. Is nice.” He nodded and sighed.

Feeling defensive, China injected her response with more spike than was really needed, given that this handsome Italian had just treated her to the most expensive drink she had ever had. “We can’t all afford to drink this every day. Or drive stupidly expensive toys.”

His laughter was like a song. An Italian crooner’s laugh. A rat-pack laugh. Rich and full of charm. “Bravo, China. It is, indeed, a toy. But a rather fun one. Maybe you would like a ride on my toy.”

“I think you mean ‘in your toy’,” she answered, but maybe he was being lascivious. She flushed pinker than the champagne. “No thank you. I don’t get into cars with strange men.”

“I am no stranger. You know my name. I know yours. We are sharing a rather ‘nice’ drink. And it appears I have your husband’s approval.”

At the mention of Philip, she looked guiltily over at her husband, suddenly remembering for the first time that he was even in the same room. He was still watching them closely, and there appeared to be a slight smile playing around his lips and a dreamy look in his eyes. The other patrons of the restaurant had now politely turned their attention away, but she caught a couple of them stealing glances at the charade playing out at the bar.

“I still don’t want to get in that thing. It’s really quite ugly.” She couldn’t work out the attraction with the car. With most cars really. She had to admit that a few were nice to look at, an Aston Martin maybe, or a Jaguar, but the extended Italian penises that most men lusted over did nothing for her. She flushed red again as the thought of Italian penises raced through her mind. Her newly liberated imagination exasperated her sometimes, especially as she still hadn’t learnt to fully control her blush reflex yet.

Leandro shrugged acceptance of her verdict and gulped his drink down. He poured himself another glass and topped up China, who was surprised to notice that she had drunk most of the first glass already.

“So tell me China, why does your husband let you talk to strange men in bars?” There was a teasing smile on his face as he asked the question.

“He has no choice,” she said. It was a part truth at least. “I do what I want and he just has to put up with it.” Now wasn’t the time to be sharing the intimate details of her husband’s fantasies. And for some reason, she felt as if she wanted to, no needed to, come across as fully in control with this man. Something told her that she dare not show him any sign of weakness.

Leandro laughed again, shaking his thick black locks. “I like you China. I like you a lot. You are a woman after my own heart.”

She smiled at him, enjoying the flirting. She leaned in close. “Besides,” she whispered. “A woman sometimes needs a change.” She could see Philip desperately trying to listen in on their conversation.

“Ha,” Leandro said. “So I am a distraction. An amuse bouche. A palette cleanser between familiar dishes.”

“If you’re lucky, you may be.” She was already being more forward than she was fully comfortable with. She scolded herself. There was no point in being too easy. She wondered if Philip was regretting his earlier comments now. That old adage, be careful what you wish for, might well be ringing in his head. The only way to slay this particular demon was to play this act through to its natural conclusion and then hopefully Philip would let it go. He would soon realise his mistake in wanting his fantasies made reality. She had no doubt he would forgive her, he had no choice really given that he had ‘pushed’ her into this. She was briefly concerned with the thought that it didn’t take much pushing on his part, but her lack of reluctance was beside the point. If she went through with this tonight, the first time of being unfaithful with Philip’s full knowledge, she suspected that a few tears might result but that Philip would come to his senses and their marriage could resume the more romantic nature which had been enough for them both before.

By the time they had finished the bottle of pink champagne, Leandro and China were talking comfortably. She now knew that he came from a poor background in a village in Southern Italy, near Naples, but had moved to Rome when sixteen and there he had made his fortune through many diverse business deals. He was reticent on the exact details, but there were enough hints in the conversation that some of them may have been rather less than fully legitimate. He was staying in this hotel as it was one of his favourites in the region. Whenever he needed a break from his busy lifestyle, he would come here to relax. It was his retreat. His parents had long since died, but he seemed ok with that so she suspected that the relationship had not been particularly good. He had no other relatives that he shared details of with her. She didn’t need telling, but he told her anyway, that he liked the good things in life that only large amounts of money could buy. He admitted, again unnecessarily, to an immature liking for ostentatious displays of his wealth, and she deduced that this was a reaction to his destitute past, a denial of the shame of his background and, at the same time, a brazen announcement to the world that he had succeeded in digging himself out of the mire of poverty.

She pondered on the fact that she already knew far more about Leandro, from less than an hour’s conversation, than she did about the ever mysterious Mark. The fact that she had hardly thought of Mark since arriving in Italy secured in her mind the fact that Mark had been a lot of fun but little more. She was grateful that he had shepherded her quite skilfully through the opening of her eyes to a new and more stimulating world, but she did not, and never would, look upon him with anything more than lustful affection.

Leandro knew very little about China as he didn’t ask her much after the first few questions. He seemed much happier talking about himself, which suited China just fine. He was not going to be a part of her life for long. Probably just this evening. So she was happy that he was not interested in the details of her world, as he would have no part in it after tonight. He was just a vehicle to boost her over this particular hurdle. Philip would be taught a lesson, and this handsome dark man would leave the classroom. End of lecture.

Leandro was still talking when she took a deep breath, the expensive alcohol spurring her to a new and almost frightening level of confidence, grabbed his hand to interrupt him and said firmly, “Let’s go upstairs. To your room.”

For the first time he looked truly shocked, which gratified China. She was taking charge again. She felt a flood of adrenalin rush through her bloodstream, and a familiar tingling sensation low in her belly. Leandro didn’t say a word, he just led her out of the dining area. China barely noticed that all eyes were on her again, as she was smiling coyly at Philip who looked on aghast. “You asked for it,” she mouthed silently.

When they arrived at Leandro’s room China was impressed. This was obviously the finest room in the hotel. It was more like an apartment than a hotel room. There was a main lounge, luxuriously decorated with rich hued material and antique Italian furniture. There were several doors leading off the main living area that she suspected led to at least one bedroom and a bathroom. Huge double doors led out onto the balcony, the view from which was so vast that it could be enjoyed from any point in the room. At this late hour all China could see out there was a sprinkling of lights from the villages that cascaded down the cliffs along the coastline, and a large, silver white, sharply crescent moon.

“Come see the stars,” he said enthusiastically. China appreciated the patience the man was showing, especially as she was now wondering if Philip had been taught enough of a lesson just by her demonstration of leaving him alone for another man. A pause for thought was most welcome. What did she really want to do next? Her irresponsible body was in no doubt, her married mind rather more uncertain.

As they stood on the balcony the spectacular tract of stars stretched translucent above them, a highway of uncountable pinpricks of light arcing through the velvet sky and over the inky black sea.

Leandro pointed to various constellations that China half recognized, and described them with a childish delight. It became obvious that Astronomy was a passion of his. The facts he presented to her were fascinating as he eagerly described the wonders of the sky, and China couldn’t help but be caught up in his enthusiasm. “So what is that?” she asked pointing to a bluish cluster of stars above them.

“That is The Pleiades,” he said, his voice lyrical and whispering. “It is an open star cluster, almost four hundred and fifty light years away. You are seeing it as it really looked when your first Queen Elizabeth was ruling England. Each of the seven stars, although it is difficult to see more than six, was a daughter of the god Atlas. My favourite is the brightest one, Halcyone. She was a queen who was able to ward off evil.”

She shivered as she thought of the vast distances between here and the cold light of those distant stars. Mythical gods a universe away from the tiny world which described the full arc of her life. Leandro put his arms around her and pulled her into an embrace, an irresistible force of strength and passion. She didn’t resist him as he kissed her for the first time. She could smell his cologne and there was a sharp sweetness to his lips from the earlier champagne. His kisses were tentative, tender, brushing her glossy lips, tasting her, sending shivers through her with this first intimate touch. He delicately pecked both corners of her mouth. She stayed perfectly still, allowing him to set the pace as he traced his full lips back along the line of her mouth, barely touching her, in delightful tickling strokes. His strong fingers pressed into her back and her skin was aware of each fingertip through the fine material of her dress. She could feel her nipples hardening and sensitizing as his body pressed against hers. She felt herself melt against him, her soft contours moulding against his.