The Commanding Italian's Challenge Page 16
* * *
He continued to ignore that inner voice and they continued to shatter one another in the sun-filled days that followed.
Unsurprisingly, Faye had quickly gathered a clutch of admirers when they’d arrived at the first plantation. Her genuine, almost childlike enthusiasm, her capacity to learn and her unabashed interest in every facet of the production that went into a Casa di Fiorenti confectionery box endeared her to his employees instantly.
Like Pico’s slavish devotion, her fan base only grew with each subsequent encounter and now, on their sixth and last day in St Lucia, he watched from his vantage point on his private beach as she charmed the employees he’d invited to a Caribbean-style barbecue.
Despite the intoxicating reggae beats that epitomised the party mood, Maceo remained...off. He wasn’t in the mood to search for the reason behind his disgruntlement. But, deep inside, he knew the irritant had something to do with the woman who flitted from group to group—barefoot, of course—wearing another concoction of bright clothes that made her blend in perfectly with her exotic surroundings.
At this precise moment she was chasing after the exuberant child of an employee, her unfettered rainbow hair arcing behind her. She disappeared behind a palm leaf cabana, and Maceo dropped his gaze to stare broodingly into his rum punch.
Enough with this cat and mouse game. Until recently he’d been a man who didn’t shy away from challenges. A man who stuck to his vows. Yet here he was, evading emails from his R&D director.
It turned out that, while they’d been exploring St Lucia, Faye had been collating ideas for new products and sending daily reports to Alberto Triento. The man was rapturous over the quality of work Faye had produced. Enough for him to question why Maceo hadn’t offered her a permanent position at Casa di Fiorenti.
What irked Maceo was that he’d contemplated that very idea. Faye had a degree in business, after all. And her social skills were exemplary. So why was she wasting away on a farm?
Which brought him to his next problem...
The discreet investigation he’d initiated the morning after their first night together had already borne fruit. Most of which, while not conclusive, pointed in the direction he’d hoped they wouldn’t.
He tightened his jaw as his demons howled.
More secrets.
He sucked in a grim breath. Faye should be told, of course. But what if it was all a huge coincidence? What if Luigi hadn’t gone to England purposely to seek out Faye’s mother? What if—
His gut tightened as soft, warm fingers slid over his nape. Inhaling sharply at the pulse of pleasure that burst to life inside him, he glanced up.
Faye stepped in front of him, another hesitant smile playing at her lips. ‘Any reason why you’re so grumpy at your own party?’
‘Perhaps because I don’t like parties?’
She tilted her head, her long hair swinging over one shoulder. ‘And yet you keep throwing them...’ she mused.
He shrugged, not quite seeing the point in divulging that she was the reason he was throwing this one in particular, after overhearing her express sadness that she wouldn’t see the plantation workers and their families again. Why her mournful expression had triggered him into having his privacy disrupted for the better part of an afternoon he chose to ignore, in favour of pulling her into his lap.
She came with a willingness that smothered a layer of his disgruntlement. And when she leaned into him he refused to name the sensation powering through him. Although it closely resembled...elation.
‘It’s our last day on the island. I thought it appropriate to mark it in some way,’ he said.
‘There are many ways to celebrate. You picked one that involved all your employees. Are you trying to hide the fact that you like to give back?’
He lowered his head until their foreheads touched. ‘Give me an hour or two and I’ll show you just how much I can give back,’ he suggested gruffly.
She laughed, and the sound transmitted itself straight through his blood into his chest.
She started to rise. His grip tightened on her convulsively.
‘Maceo...?’
Thoughts crowded his head—the uppermost one being the fact that he needed to come clean. About his suspicions over Luigi and Pietro. About his investigations. About the letter.
But until he was absolutely certain, why risk causing her hurt by raking open old wounds? Why alarm her unnecessarily if all this turned out to be false?
‘Go. Enjoy yourself. But be warned that I intend to throw everyone off the beach in an hour. I wish to be alone with you.’
She blushed, and another pulse of pleasure unravelled inside him. She was truly a sublime novelty. Enough for him to silently extend himself a little more time to explore the uniqueness of it all.
‘Okay. I’ll go and warn them, so they’re not completely horrified when it happens.’
‘Grande. Go,’ he instructed, then countered his command by pulling her close and slanting his mouth over hers.
Maceo didn’t care who saw. She was his. For now. Until he did his duty.
Her soft moan brought that peculiar lightness to his chest once more. He tugged her closer, kissed her with a boldness that announced to every male in the vicinity that she was his. When he was thoroughly satisfied that he’d made his point, he released her.
She scrambled away from him with a dazed look. In that moment, temporarily satisfied with his world, and the knowledge that whatever his report brought he would deal with it adequately, Maceo raised his glass to his lips and drained the punch.
* * *
‘You’re brooding again.’
Faye immediately hated herself for blurting out the observation. It wasn’t as if Maceo was ever overly talkative. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d grown increasingly laconic over the last few days, prompting her need to discover why earlier at the party.
She’d walked away with no answers, just a kiss that had left her insides shivery. Hours later, she was no further enlightened.
Was he bored already? Had their chemistry fizzled out so soon for him?
The dismay thickening in her gut didn’t shock her. She’d sensed this coming, but foolishly buried her head in the sand.
‘Tell me about New Paths,’ he said abruptly. ‘How long has your mother been there?’
She froze as tiny ice droplets slid down her spine. ‘Why?’
His stare was level. Almost neutral. ‘You think I shouldn’t be curious about where you come from?’
‘Um...no, I guess not.’ She tamped down her nerves. ‘What do you want to know?’
Their conversation over the past few days had been thrilling and engaging. The kind that effortlessly went on long into the night and kept her rapt, to the extent that she feared how attached she’d become to the time she spent with him.
And that was before their lovemaking. Just thinking about that drove sensations through her being she couldn’t comprehend. Faye understood the basics of chemistry, but this was entirely unfathomable to her. Had Maceo not confessed his uninitiated status she would never have believed it. From that very first time he’d leapt into another stratosphere. To say he was insatiable was an understatement.
Their second day onboard the yacht he’d pulled her into his arms right on the top deck and calmly freed her from her bikini. Her shocked laughter had elicited a dark chuckle in response, followed by, ‘I have more than a decade of sex to make up for. And you, dolce bellissimma, are so very responsive. How can I not have you like this?’
Every touch, every kiss, every wicked look from his flame-filled eyes surged through her, taking her from one peak to another.
‘Am I losing you?’ he murmured now, a knowing tone in his voice.
Heat crept up her neck as she recalled that, while their conversation had skirted the outside edge of personal, it ha
d never strayed this close to her past.
‘Mum’s been at New Paths for over twelve years.’
‘So you grew up there with her?’
She shook her head. ‘I only spent school holidays with her. The rest of the time I was away at boarding school.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘Boarding school?’
‘Yes. The school I attended had a special programme. Every year they picked five students to attend a top boarding school. I was lucky enough to get a place.’
‘Perhaps luck had nothing to do with it,’ he murmured, that pensive look in his eyes again.
‘What do you mean?’
He shrugged. ‘Your intelligence is exceptional. I’m willing to bet that alone earned you a place.’
Faye wasn’t sure why the compliment didn’t quite hit the sweet spot. Why it made the back of her neck tingle.
In the next moment he relaxed in his seat again. ‘Alberto has been singing your praises.’
Her heart leapt with delight, her befuddlement fading. ‘Really? He’s been alarmingly quiet about the emails I sent him.’
‘To me, he’s been positively exuberant,’ Maceo retorted drily.
Delight ballooned and she laughed. ‘Sneaky man.’
‘Si...’ Maceo responded indulgently. He set down his glass, his eyes resting on her with that intensity that made her aware of every inch of her body. ‘He even suggested I should give you a permanent position in the company.’
Her insides somersaulted in a mixture of alarm and something else she wasn’t ready to name. ‘I... Why would he do that?’
He shrugged. ‘Your contribution has made an impact. Perhaps he sees an asset that will benefit the company.’
Asset. Benefit.
Being discussed in such cold business terms should put her off. And yet... ‘And you? Do you concur?’ she asked, despite her glaring recognition that the question bordered on the personal zone.
Having sex with him because she wanted to was one thing. Casually inviting him to give a verdict on her worthiness to his business, when her future couldn’t include him, was an open invitation to pain and misery.
It terrified her enough to say, ‘You don’t need to answer that.’
‘I don’t? Why not?’ he invited.
His eyes bored into her, as if trying to divine her thoughts.
‘Because I’m leaving in a few weeks.’
‘And if I took Alberto Triento’s advice and offered you a job? What would you do, Faye?’ he queried softly, in direct opposition to the fire burning in his eyes.
Faye was stunned by how much she wanted to say yes. To rearrange every silly dream she’d harboured for the sake of remaining by this man’s side for a little longer.
The power of it robbed her of breath, before she forced common sense in. ‘I’d say don’t let him influence you into making a hasty decision.’
Several seconds passed as he stared at her, his eyes darkening several shades. The brief flaring of his nostrils signalled his displeasure, but in the next moment he shrugged.
‘Perhaps you’re right. I shouldn’t rearrange my life for a novelty.’
The words stung, as they were meant to, reminding her of other words.
‘I made a vow...’
He’d said those words just a handful of days ago. She’d blinded herself to them, and to the contemplative looks he’d slanted her way since, when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.
Faye fiddled with her water glass, growing anguish twisting her insides.
She started when he abruptly rose from the dinner table beneath the pavilion in the villa. Tonight he wore dark trousers, paired with a midnight-blue linen shirt that did wonderful things for his olive complexion. Two strides and he was before her. Her body clenched in anticipation as she stared into his eyes, acknowledged the ferocious passion etched into his face.
When he grasped her elbows and tugged her up, she rose to join him. There was a sizzling edge to his passion that intensified his lovemaking, she’d discovered to her delight and dismay, and she was very partial to it.
‘You’ve spent the day charming my employees. Now I think it’s time for you to shower me with your attention.’
He swung her into his arms and strode away from the pavilion, through the villa—mercifully devoid of staff—and up the grand staircase into his suite. There, he took his time to slide her down his body, ensuring she felt her full effect on him.
Before her feet had fully touched the floor he was winding her long hair around his wrist, a practice he’d grown rabidly attached to. The act triggered an equally visceral reaction within her, and before the coil of hair was fully wrapped around his wrist her core had shamelessly dampened, throbbing with a needy drumbeat that made her breathless.
Maceo didn’t kiss her immediately. He simply examined her with quiet intensity. Gripped by an urge she couldn’t fathom, she hooked her fingers into the space at the top of his open-necked shirt and pulled it apart.
‘Santo cielo!’ he swore under his breath, his nose flaring with wicked arousal, right before he lowered his head and bit her bottom lip. ‘More,’ he demanded gruffly.
She kissed his throat, trailed caresses down his sculpted chest, and then, growing bolder, nipped his firm skin. His breath hissed and he shuddered.
‘More?’
‘Si...’ he growled thickly.
Faye lost all sense of time and self. She devoured him as if it was their last time. As if he was the last meal she would ever consume. Something had happened during their conversation and it had slid a layer of edgy unease between them. She couldn’t pinpoint the cause, yet she felt it. It fed her urgency, and when Maceo stumbled back against the wall she fell on him, a ravenous creature she didn’t recognise.
Thick, provocative words fell from his lips as her eager hands undressed him. When he was completely naked, a virile god arrogantly demanding worship, she fell to her knees. A glance up showed his rapt, savage expression.
Vibrating with feminine power, she took him in her hand and wrapped her lips around him. A tortured groan rumbled from his throat, fuelling the fire of her passion. With her tongue and her lips and her hands she feasted on him until his knees buckled. Until he pulled away with a tortured, ‘Basta, per favore.’
One hand urged her up. The moment she stood he reversed their positions and pinned her against the wall, a formidable, virile male in control. One thick arm wrapped around her waist, he settled himself between her thighs, his eyes fixed heatedly on hers, and thrust into her.
Her primal scream bounced off the bedroom walls. It was followed by a series of needy cries, which he answered with overwhelming vigour. Locked together, they feasted on each other until sweat slicked their skin, until their breaths were fused into one life sustaining stream, until it all culminated in a mind-melting release that shook her very soul.
Maceo followed swiftly behind, his powerful body shuddering in her arms as he let go.
She was still floating when he carried her to his bed, when he slid them both between the sheets and pulled her close. But, as much as she wished for oblivion, Faye found herself awake long after his breath had evened out in deep sleep.
Her eyes darted in the darkness as she struggled to rationalise what was happening.
Dismay deepened as the answers she’d held at bay smashed through her barriers.
Everything that had happened between them from the moment she’d arrived in Italy was beginning to make a devastating sort of sense. This was never going to be an emotionless interlude. Even without the sex, Maceo had affected her on a deep, visceral level.
Gradually, that irritating little niggle she’d felt at the dinner table unveiled itself.
She didn’t want to leave Italy. Not just yet. And it had nothing to do with her stepfather or Carlotta or anything she’d learned so far.
The thought terrified her more than anything had terrified her in a long time. And yet still she stayed in his arms. And when he woke an hour later and slanted her that brooding look in the dark she melted straight into him.
Because her foolish heart didn’t know any better.
* * *
Ghana was sublime. A sprawling metropolis in parts. A verdant jungle paradise within half an hour of leaving the capital, Accra. Sitting just above the equator, it was humid during the day and cool in the evening. But what took Faye’s breath away was the sudden majesty of its thunderstorms. They arrived with tremendous force, shook the world and drenched everything in sight within seconds.
From her vantage point in the world’s most spectacular tree house, in the middle of the Ashanti Region’s jungle, she marvelled at the green lushness around her. Everywhere she looked cocoa trees swayed with gentle grandeur for miles, in the rich landscape she’d explored twice over since their arrival two days ago.
Faye had learned every little thing about the precious cocoa bean—especially the new variety of rose-pink bean that was setting the confectionery world alight. But, more than that, she’d collected samples of the indigenous fruits of Ghana and intended to add them to Alberto’s collection.
Thoughts of returning to Naples brought apprehension. Somewhere between St Lucia and Ghana, Faye had talked herself into letting this thing ride out in its own time. It might end tomorrow. It might end the day she left Italy. The only certainty was that it would end.
Maceo hadn’t mentioned the job offer again. And, as much as she told herself she was fine with that, her chest tightened every time she contemplated her inevitable departure.
In other ways, her emotions had been soothed. Maceo’s insistence on Luigi’s integrity had left her with the belief that her stepfather hadn’t forgotten about her. She only wished he’d found time to explain his desertion in the years before his death.
But dwelling in the past was futile. She didn’t begrudge him the happiness he’d found.