Rosamanti (11 page)

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Authors: Noelle Clark

Tags: #contemporary romance

BOOK: Rosamanti
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The old man took out a bunch of keys and inserted one into an ignition hole. Twisting the right hand grip, a motor hummed, sending the back wheel revolving around all on its own. She looked at his deeply wrinkled face, his big toothy grin widening even further.

“Electric, signora. When you want to, you can pedal. On hills, you sit and relax.” He shrugged, his hands spread out. “Easy.”

Sarah inspected the shiny little bike. She loved the little basket on the handlebars. It had a headlight and another carry tray behind the saddle.

“Look.” He turned on the light and pressed a little button on the handlebars. “Very necessary to have horn in Italy, signora.”

Sarah laughed at the high-pitched beep and nodded her head. “Si.”

She had been thinking about getting a bicycle, but the hilly terrain would make it too hard—even for a mountain bike. This was the cutest, most appropriate bike. This way she’d get some exercise when she wanted to, whereas with a moped or Vespa, she’d get none.

“Which hotel are you staying at, signora?”

“No hotel. I’m in Signora Lombardi’s villa—Rosamanti.”

His face changed—softened. Lifting one hand, he made a sign of the cross, touching his finger tips to his forehead, his chest, then crossing from one side to the other.

“You take it now. Try it, and if you like it, you bring me the money. Si?”

“But you don’t know me. You don’t even know my name.”

She was astonished to see his eyes well with tears. “Signora Lombardi was my friend. When you get to my age, signora, you learn whom to trust.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “I trust you—and besides—I know now that you are the new girlfriend of Pietro. Si?” His grin returned as he winked at her.

For a moment, Sarah couldn’t speak.

“Signor. I would be honored to try out the little bicycle.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Thank you.”

“Luigi.” He held out his gnarled and bony hand to shake. Grasping it, she let out an unsteady laugh.

“I’m Sarah.”

He handed her the key, showed her how to use the hand brakes at the same time as the foot brake, and helped her on. His hand clapped her shoulder.


Andare!
Go!”

When she took off, she wobbled wildly, but as the little bike picked up speed, she handled it much better. She rode carefully, but once out of the narrow laneways and heading up the hill toward Lo Capo, her hair flew in the breeze. She marveled at how quiet the little bike was, just a quiet hum, and when she wasn’t peddling, it was totally silent.

Entering the lane to Rosamanti, she lost her nerve. “Oh my God! What if I can’t stop!”
The villa loomed before her, and Pietro’s old, pale blue Vespa stood in its usual spot under the wisteria arch. She braked too hard, the back wheel locking. The bike slid in the gravel. With her heart pounding, she quickly put both feet down onto the ground as she came to a complete, yet violent, stop.

She heard someone clapping. Looking up, she saw Pietro grinning at her.

“Don’t just stand there! Help me off this bloody thing.” She was shaking all over.

A strong arm wrapped around her.

“OK, I’ve got you. I’m holding the bike. You swing your legs through there.” He nodded at the step through area. Shakily, she climbed off. Pietro easily lifted the shiny red bike up onto its rear stand. Then he turned to her and wrapped her in his arms, hugging her tightly.

“Ah, you’re still shaking. I think you did well. How brave is my girl?”

“I can’t believe I went from being in bliss, riding along like a pro, and then could hardly stop
.
” She was breathless from fright. “I forgot to stop gradually. Luigi told me to pull on the front and rear brakes together.”

“Luigi?”

“Yes, the old man at the bike shop. He said I could take it and try it first.” She shuddered. “And I very nearly crashed it on my maiden voyage.”

He pulled his head back and looked into her face. “So, you have won over Luigi. High praise, bella.”

“I didn’t ask him. He sort of insisted. Said he was a friend of Nonna’s.”

“Yes.” His voice was tender. “I am touched that so many people were Nonna’s friend.” He glanced down at the ground. When he looked up, she saw his eyes were moist. “Forgive me, bella
,
but it is still so soon since I lost Nonna. I am still—in mourning.”

Sarah put both her palms on his cheeks and kissed him on the lips. “I know.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, let me look at your new wheels!” He ran a hand over the glittering red paintwork, played with the horn, and looked at the battery under the seat. “What a racy bike. Did you enjoy riding it?”

Her laugh rang out across the little courtyard.

“I loved it. Oh, except for having to stop.”

His big booming chuckle made her laugh even more. He put an arm across her shoulders, and together they went inside to the cool of the kitchen. No sooner were they in the door, than Pietro took her in his arms and kissed her fervently.

“I am so happy to see you again.” His eyes twinkled. “Did you miss me?”

“Not at all. I barely realized you had gone.” Her eyebrows rose, and she lifted her chin. “I was too busy to miss you.” She flung her shoulder length hair, trying hard to appear cool.

“Really?”

“Most certainly.”

“And today? You didn’t miss me today?”

“Hey, I was flat out all day. I even took a bus to Anacapri.”

“Oh, I know.”

She turned to face him, the game was heating up.

“You can’t possibly know, you were in Naples.”

“Allora. That is so very true, bella. I was in Napoli.”

So, round one to me then,” she said smugly, a triumphant smile breaking across her face.

He let out a big sigh. “Si, you win.” He looked dejected. “So I won’t bother to tell you about how you got off the bus at Castella Barbarossa and took photos, and how you had to hurry to get back on before it took off. I won’t need to tell you that you ate lemon cake at
Café Lisa—
with a glass of limoncello. And I certainly will not even mention that you missed me so much that you went down to Marina Grande looking for me.”

Her eyes widened and she drew in a big breath.

“You rat! You cheated. Who told you, eh?” Attempting a rugby crash tackle, she went to grab him, only managing to trip over one of the cats, who let out a loud meow
,
causing Pietro to break into uncontrollable laughter.

His merriment was contagious. He fell to the floor with a crash. Still holding her tight, he lay flat on his back on the slate tiles. A tangle of arms and legs, she ended up straddled across him awkwardly, jammed between the legs of the solid wooden table and the combustion stove. Together they laughed until they cried, still holding each other, their faces close. Eventually, the amusement settled, but Sarah felt the happiness increase.

“Bella, I missed you.” His whisper was barely audible, his black eyes burning with fervor.

Their lips met hungrily. Passion-fuelled kisses blazed like a fire between them. Pietro’s strong arms held her so tightly she thought she wouldn’t be able to breathe, but she didn’t want to stop. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, seeking hers. She touched hers to his, her head feeling dizzy at the sheer pleasure. He cupped her ass with firm hands. They slid upward to her waist, then underneath her T-shirt. Effortlessly, he undid her bra strap, and his hands slipped around and inside her bra, releasing her breasts. She let out a small yelp of pleasure as he rubbed her nipples with his thumbs. She swore she could see smoke coming from his dark eyes. Reaching down, she grabbed the hem of her T-shirt, pulling it quickly over her head. She slipped her bra off both arms and threw it. He fondled her breasts, caressed them.

She kissed him enthusiastically, enjoying the feel of his hands on her breasts. She ran her hands through his thick hair, then kissed his neck. Grabbing the collar of his shirt with both hands, she tugged, popping the buttons—one by one—in her quest to get to his chest. Ripping it open, she revealed his muscular torso and ran her hands through the soft, silky, black hair covering his chest. She moaned as his mouth found her breasts, sucking her nipples, his hardness throbbing beneath her as she sat on his lap.

Like a drug, desire flowed through her veins, rushing through her system with an injection of urgency. Sitting up, she undid her jeans. In the confined space, she had trouble getting them off, her hands shaking with the effort. Silently, Pietro grabbed the waistband and lowered her jeans. She knelt as he drew them lower, revealing her briefs. His hand slid between her legs, feeling her through her knickers. She moaned and arched her back. Her breath coming in gasps, she reached down and flicked off both her sandals, then quickly stood up, one foot either side of him. She pushed her jeans off and kicked them from her legs. In a flash, she removed her underwear. Then, with tightening pulsating within her, she sat down on him and unzipped his jeans. Feeling inside, she had no trouble locating him.

He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet, fumbling inside it awkwardly with trembling hands. With a soft groan, he pulled her down to him and kissed passionately, his arms encircling her, caressing her back, then her breasts. Electricity shot through her. She reached down to touch his erection.

“Here, cara mia.” She took the little packet and ripped it open with her teeth. The condom rolled on easily. She sat down on him, gasping as he slid into her. Bright lights exploded in front of her eyes as she rocked gently back and forward on him, conscious of his hands on her breasts. She bent down and kissed him, still maintaining her momentum. Their tongues brushed together with the rhythm of her movement. His breathing was coming in ragged gasps, getting faster and faster. He slid his hands down her body and cupped her buttocks, drawing her down tighter and tighter.

Sarah felt the pulse within her quickening, making her moan.


Vengo!
” He pulled her tightly to him, his body stiffening.

“Oh God!” She felt the rush of the oncoming orgasm. It exploded within her. They held each other, letting their bodies jerk and writhe together in the exquisite pain. She held her breath. Pietro’s tense torso was as hard as a rock.

Eventually the spasms within her faded. She let out the breath she had been holding, whooshing it out with the release of tension. She lifted her head from Pietro’s neck and looked at him. His face was shiny with sweat, his eyes still smoldering and his lips parted in a smile, revealing his white teeth. Tenderness welled within her. Her heart flooded with love, she smiled back at him.


Mia tesoro. Mia amore
.” His chest rose and fell rapidly, and the tenderness in his eyes threatened to melt her heart. She lay down on top of him, nuzzling her face into his neck. The warmth of his embrace flowed through her, making her feel safe, loved.

 

* * *

 

 

They walked hand in hand to milk Geraldina. A fresh sea breeze had sprung up, cooling down the late afternoon. As always, Geraldina was delighted to see Pietro and ran over to him when he approached. Sarah sat in the shade of the pine next to the goat pen, watching as he stroked and cooed Italian words of love to Geraldina. The goat reciprocated, rubbing her nose on him and leaning her fat belly against his legs. She looked as though she was in heaven when he milked her, her eyes staring off into the far distance, her pink lips curled up at the corners of her mouth. Soon, the milking was over and, as Pietro stood up, Geraldina gently head-butted him on his thigh. He held out his hand, and the two had a game of push and shove, Pietro laughing and cajoling the goat playfully.

He looked over. “She loves to play this game. When she was younger, I used my head and we would push, forehead to forehead. But then she grew horns, and although she is gentle, I now prefer to use the palm of my hand.”

They walked back up to Rosamanti via the chicken coop, filling bowls with water and spreading corn. Sarah, content to watch on, loved to see the gentleness in Pietro. Even the chickens are excited to see him, she thought.

They ate dinner outside under the pergola again. The mild, balmy weather was perfect, the air sweetly perfumed by the jasmine.

“So, what would you like to do tomorrow?”

She cocked her head to one side. “Tomorrow?”

“I have two days off work, and I am at your service. Where would you like to go?”

She thought for a moment. “Would you take me to see the Blue Grotto?”

He smiled. It was obviously a good choice. “I will check the tides and then in the morning I will get the wind forecast. If it’s calm enough, I will take you.”

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

She awoke to a hand roughly shaking her shoulder. Opening one eye, she peered into the playful eyes of Pietro.

“Rise and shine, sleepy head.”

Opening the other eye, she looked around the small bedroom. It was barely light enough to see.

“What time is it?”

“Time to head off. If we don’t go early, we’ll not be able to enter Grotta Azzurra. Only the tour operator boats are allowed in—and besides, it’s very crowded in there once the ferries arrive from the mainland.”

While Pietro packed a picnic lunch, she showered and dressed quickly, wearing her swimmers under her shorts and blouse. She gathered together a couple of beach towels and hats. Stowing everything in her backpack, they set off on his Vespa, down the winding road to Capri, and then across the amazing roadway to Anacapri. The poor little Vespa struggled on the steepest sections, but it gave Sarah a chance to appreciate the engineering feat of the roadway. In the most spectacular section, solid rock face was carved into a narrow road, and massive concrete pylons supported an extra width, suspended out over the cliff edge. Every so often, a faster vehicle came up behind them, tooting their horn relentlessly. Pietro, always gracious, would move as far to the right as he could to let them past.

They entered the town of Anacapri just as the sun peeped over the horizon. She recognized Piazza Vittoria and a few other places, as they continued through the town. Turning on to
via Pagliaro
, they wound sluggishly up steep, winding roads, through villas and hotels perched on the steep incline, affording them sweeping views of the Mediterranean. They passed citrus orchards full of lemon and blood orange trees. Under the trees grew grape vines, protected from the intense heat by the lush foliage.

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