His body still vibrated inside from witnessing Rosa’s body’s reaction when she orgasmed. He’d never had sex with another woman who had been so receptive to his touch. Perhaps because he and Rosa loved one another made all the difference between casual sex and intimate sex. He smiled now, remembering the look on her face when she wanted to reciprocate and her surprise when he said there would be time later. It made him wonder if she’d been with assholes in the past, and they expected her to blow them on command.
Never again. When Rosa finally gave herself to him in that way, he wanted her to initiate it and not do it because she felt obligated. Never obligated.
Snuggling in closer to her body, he nuzzled her hair and inhaled the scent of her shampoo, which his hair no doubt smelled like. The aroma relaxed him, and he enjoyed this time holding her in sleep. It seemed as she was always hurrying from one task to the next and never fully relaxed and just letting herself be. He listened to her breathe and wondered if she dreamed about him? Since when do I have a big ego?
Before long, his breathing evened out, his body became heavy as his mind conjured up Rosa and he naked on a boat, making love beneath a midnight sky with stars, moon and planets illuminating their naked bodies and the water surrounding the boat.
The weight of an arm across her stomach was the first thing alerting Rosa to the fact that Marco didn’t let her go even in sleep. Which had her insides fluttering with joy. She’d only woken up in his arms two times before, and to her way of thinking it would never be enough. She would never tire of being held safely and securely in his arms. This man who surprised her with his handling of Serena. He could have thrown her out of his home when he found out she’d been lying about the divorce. But no, his compassionate side won over, and he invited her to stay. Rosa should have felt, or still felt some jealousy. Try as she might, she couldn’t dig up those feelings.
What did that say about her? That she was a push-over when she swore after the American she’d never be taken advantage of again? Somehow, this was different. She knew in her heart and soul, Marco loved her and would do nothing on purpose to hurt her. Not now. Not ever. The same went for her.
Lying there now, she wished they could find a hidden cave, make it their home, and never have to deal with the outside world. Love and live off the land and each other. Too bad life didn’t work that way anymore. If it ever did. She liked to believe it did once upon a time thousands of years previously.
“You seem lost in thought. Care to share?” Marco kissed the back of her neck with his moist, warm lips, transferring some wetness and heat onto her skin.”
“Daydreaming about us living in a deserted cave far away from civilization.”
“Hmmm, sounds like heaven.” His lips trailed a line of kisses down her neck and across her shoulder, and her skin savored the attention.
“Since we can’t possibly live in a cave, will my bedroom do?” A gasp escaped her lips when his teeth skimmed across her shoulder. “Today at least we can stay in bed, order room service, and hide from real life until I need to go back to work tomorrow. You can stay right here tomorrow and be my sex slave while I bring home the bacon.”
He chuckled. “Do you realize you use American euphemisms a lot? You and Mia spent too much time together growing up.”
She laughed. “We did. And I like how I talk, thank you very much.”
He rolled on top of her, pushed his erection against her core and said, “Me too, love.”
The day spent lounging in bed, making love, watching television, and ordering room service was like a dream. She told her staff under no circumstances was she to be disturbed. And they listened. Not interrupting her even once during the day and night. Tomorrow would come soon enough for her to be back at the helm of the hotel. Today made her realize it had been forever, and she really meant forever, since she’d had real time off to enjoy life. Well, if you didn’t count last year, before she met Marco, when she took off with the race-car driver. She’d been back in Italy in no time. She didn’t count that as time off. She’d been heading up the hotel in Venice at the time. She missed some things about Venice. However, the Amalfi Coast was just as breathtaking and beautiful in a different way.
This day with Marco meant the world to her. Every time she got overly emotional and her eyes teared up, she concentrated and forced the moisture away. She didn’t want Marco to think something was wrong. Quite the opposite. The threatening tears were passionate, happy, and euphoric tears. How did most men not shed tears when emotions ran high? Rosa had respect and admiration for men who weren’t afraid to shed a tear or two. She may not have known Marco long, but she’d bet a week’s pay he cried when emotions escalated that nothing else would do but tears. Sometimes it was the only way to display one’s true feelings.
Rosa’s alarm went off in the morning, startling her awake. How could it be tomorrow already? Marco stirred and reached for her as she tried to slip out of the warm bed undetected. So much for trying not to wake him. “Go back to sleep. It’s early. I’ll send a breakfast tray up in about two hours.”
She dressed in a stylish navy blue pantsuit with pops of yellow from her tank top, print scarf, and killer pumps. Her dark thick hair in a casual up do, Rosa made her way down the elevator to the lobby, acknowledging guests and employees before ducking into her office. Her feet froze in place, her heart escalated, and sweat broke out on her palms at the sight of the man sitting, as though he had every right to be there, at her desk, in her chair, grinning at her. It took self-control not to whip off her pump and fling it at his face. Oh how she would like to damage that smirking face. The face of a liar and a cheat…and rapist. A defiler of women who trusted him. Thank goodness she’d seen the real man behind the mask. If only she’d seen it sooner to save herself.
“What the hell are you doing in my office? And how did you get in here?” She forced the words through the lump lodged inside her throat. Don’t panic. I can handle this asshole. He can’t hurt me anymore. Not if I don’t let him. She tried to play it casual, not let him see her fear. Which wasn’t easy as her body visibly trembled from the inside out. She couldn’t let this man see her discomfort. Predators thrived on weakness. “That wasn’t very gracious of me. How have you been, Chad? I haven’t seen you in years. You look well.” Liar. He looked tired, older, and not in the distinguished way some men aged. His once, way too handsome face, part of the past.
She forced her legs to move, and she somehow sat in a chair facing him at her desk. As she talked, she fished her cell out of her bag and scrolled her contacts looking for her manager’s number. She hit the button and hoped he’d come running.
Chad’s eyes narrowed dangerously at her. “I’ve been better. Lost almost everything in the divorce to my wife.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Like hell she was. If she wasn’t in a panic, she’d be rejoicing. “How are your children? They must be grown by now?” She didn’t care one bit about his kids. It was all about keeping him talking, stalling for time, and playing nice. Waiting for Alberto to crash through her office door at any moment. Crash through might be a bit optimistic, but he would come.
“One is in college and the other’s in her last year of high school.” His fingers toyed with a pen from her desk. “Why the small talk? Do you think it will put off the inevitable?”
Her heart hit top speed, and she took several easy breaths, trying to calm it. “What inevitable?” Trying to act calm didn’t work. Her voice came out as a squeak.
He pointed from her to him with his hand holding the pen. “You. Me. Us. Why else would I be in Italy? I never stopped craving you.” He spoke with his tone flat, his eyes cold. “I came to collect what you offered me years ago. Your heart and marriage. I believe I can learn to like living here in luxury. I think we’d make a good team running this hotel, or any other your family owns.”
Where on earth was Alberto? “Do I have time to think about it? It’s all so sudden.” She hoped she sounded ditsy.
“No games Rosa. You have an hour to dress for a wedding.” His lips turned up into a sneer. “Our wedding. I made the arrangements several days ago. We wed at ten at the small chapel in town.”
Rosa’s body wouldn’t work. She tried to rise to her feet several times without success while her mind screamed, I will never marry this man. I would rather die.
The door to her office flew open, banging loudly against the wall, startling both Chad and her.
“Rosa, who is this man?”
Silently she thanked God for sending her savior and allowing her body to work as she stood, fighting the natural urge to throw her arms around Marco. Instead, she wrapped her arm around his elbow and motioned to Chad. “Darling, this is an old friend from America, Chad Jones. Chad, this is my fiancé, Marco Romano.” She enjoyed witnessing the shock on Chad’s face. However, not the fury that followed.
Marco held out his hand to Chad who growled and ignored it as he rose to his feet. “It was a pleasure to see you again, Rosa.”
Once Chad vanished, she collapsed into the chair she’d vacated moments ago, leaned forward with her face in her hands as her body trembled and sobs escaped her. Now that the adrenaline and fight-or-flight mentality was over, her body crashed.
Marco dropped to his knees before her, gently cupped her face and lifted it to meet his worried eyes. “Want to tell me about that guy and what happened just now?”
She wanted to. She just needed a minute to get her emotions under control and her thoughts organized. Never had she told anyone about the time when Chad raped her. Confessing her secrets to Marco would be difficult but necessary for them to move forward.
“Several years back Chad and I dated. He led me to believe he was unattached and single when the truth was he was married with two children. When I found out I broke it off. He was beyond angry. Several months passed before he crashed into my life again without warning.” Rosa leaned back against the chair and closed her eyes, seeking courage to go on. “He came out of nowhere, shoved me into my apartment, and proceeded to…to…rape me.”
Marco pulled her forward, wrapped his arms around her and let her cry.
The American was fortunate he’d left, otherwise Marco would have murdered him. On his knees, holding the woman he loved in his arms as she cried her heart out, fractured his heart inside his chest. When the hotel manager, Alberto, called and said something was wrong with Rosa and to come to her office immediately, Marco hadn’t known what to expect. For a moment, he thought her family had shown up. Or at the very least, her three brothers, trying once again to hide from their parents. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected an old flame of Rosa’s sitting in her chair at her desk.
He’d not had a good vibe about the man right off. He’d seemed arrogant and privileged with anger simmering on the surface. Now that he knew the story of his and Rosa’s past, the man was lucky he’d left when he had. When she’d explained her past with the jerk and she’d uttered the words rape, Marco couldn’t breathe. He physically felt his heart crack in two and his soul reach out and try to soothe and take Rosa’s agony away. As though anyone could take away the anguish of being violated in such a violent and physical way. He’d always thought she had hidden scars. Now he knew she did. He vowed to cherish and honor her for the rest of his life. To never cause her doubt or pain or heartache.
“Sweetheart.” He stood, taking her with him. “Why don’t you take today off. We’ll go back to your room, and I’ll draw you a nice hot bath and you can soak away the torment from today. The filth from that man.” Without her answering he led her through the lobby, which was fortunately void of guests, and up the elevator to her floor and into her apartment.
“Gracie.” As the lost sound of her voice traveled to his ears, his gut wrenched. “But I’ll draw my own bath.” In silence, he watched as her feet shuffled toward the bathroom, and he had the sudden urge to throw up. Fighting it, he picked up the phone and ordered a room service tray. Hot tea, coffee, toast, scrambled eggs, and fruit. What did Rosa like to eat when her world turned on its axis?
After three quarters of an hour Marco needed to check on her. He’d been having visions of her falling asleep in the large tub and drowning. He knew he was overreacting. He knocked on the door and opened it to find her soaking in the tub and her eyes closed. Before he could utter a word she did. “I’m awake. I’m sorry if I frightened you. Seeing him again brought back, in vivid color, that horrible night. I’m fine now. And starving.” She laughed, and he recognized it as her nervous laugh.
“I ordered a tray. It should be here in ten minutes.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be right out.”
He left the door open a crack when he exited, and the gripping pain bothering his chest eased. He knew in his heart, Rosa would be fine in time. He expected the rape would stay with her forever, how could it not? But he would do whatever he could to help and be understanding when she needed him to.