“Where are we going?” Colette inquired, as she and Luca drove along the coast in the dusk, the lights of the buildings twinkling below them like a group of fireflies swirling around the mouth of a cave.
He smiled mysteriously. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”
She smiled as she leaned back in her seat and looked out the window. The smile broadened when she felt Luca’s hand move over hers.
She was grateful that he hadn’t pushed her the other night, but had been certain that her reticence would be the end of his attentions. In fact, it had seemed to make him even keener.
“Nicely played.” Annie had high-fived her, when, mortified, Colette had told the others all about what she’d thought was a disastrous night out. “This Italian stallion has obviously met his match in you.”
She seemed to think that Colette was playing some kind of game but truly she wouldn’t even know where to start.
She just hoped Luca didn’t think the same. She was nothing if not honest and she didn’t believe in, or tolerate, deception of any kind.
But she was pleased her resistance hadn’t put him off and this time she decided if Luca tried to kiss her tonight she wasn’t going to stop him.
“The restaurant at the pier again?” she guessed, when he parked the car in the same location as before.
“Something like that,” he mumbled, as he got out and came around to open the door for her. He linked her arm in his. “Your chariot awaits.”
“Chariot?” she repeated, laughing, as he led her down to the water to where, this time, a small sailboat waited at the end of the pier. “What’s this?”
“Your chariot,” Luca said. He stepped on board and then held out his hand to her.
Colette giggled, amazed, as she joined him on deck. “Can you really drive this?” she asked dubiously.
He winked. “I would think so. She’s mine.”
“You have a boat? Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“I just did.”
She watched as Luca cast off and stood in front of the wheel on the upper deck, guiding them out of port. Then she moved to stand beside him as the twilight spread out before them.
“It’s getting dark out there,” she commented as they pulled away from the reflections below the bay and further into the open waters.
“That’s what’s so wonderful about it,” Luca replied. “Out here the sky and the water become one. You can’t tell where one begins and one ends. It’s as if there is nothing at all but you and the universe.”
“You’re something of a philosopher, aren’t you?”
“Nothing of the sort at all,” Luca replied. “I just know what I like and I spend my time doing it. That’s why I brought you out here. Someone I like, to share in something I like.” His gaze turned on her as he spoke, and Colette felt a familiar flush rise from the tips of her toes all the way up her body.
“Can I take a look around?” she mumbled, keen to change the subject even though she was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to spot her embarrassment in the darkness.
He smiled. “Please—go ahead.”
The boat, though relatively small, was rather spacious on the inside. A small galley kitchen was to the immediate left as Colette descended the stairs, and a food storage area on the right.
Further inside the cabin was a compact lounge area with a table and some banquette seating, a toilet to the side of that, and further in, a double bed occupied the bow area. A nervous lump formed in Colette’s throat the moment she saw that, but then the boat jerked in the water so she headed back up.
It was about half an hour before Luca dropped anchor, and once the boat was moored and all was calm, he invited her downstairs once again.
“Have a seat,” he requested as he began to roll up his sleeves. “Dinner will be served soon.”
He was cooking for her again, but this time Colette would get to watch him work. Luca truly had magnificent hands. The way they flew across the food as he prepared it. He had obviously learned a lot from his aunt. He had everything perfect, from preparation to plating, and Colette was enthralled by it. He could have been a professional. He should have been.
“You’re really good at that,” she commented as she watched him chop vegetables with deft skill and precision.
“Thank you. I will teach you, if you like. Come here.”
She moved into the tiny kitchen space. He handed her the knife and positioned himself directly behind her.
“It’s all in the placement of your fingers,” he said, his voice low in her ear and sending automatic tingles up her spine. “You must move them like this,” he stated as he curled his fingers over hers. “Then the knife is used in a rocking motion, the tip acting as your pivot point.”
There was something unashamedly sensual in what he was doing and Colette listened distractedly as she allowed his hands to guide her.
She wasn’t trying nearly as much as she was listening to how melodious that accent could make anything sound, and the way he spoke about food with such passion.
She could only begin to imagine what it would be like to feel those hands moving across her bare skin, and realized with a start that she badly wanted to.
Colette swallowed hard.