turned in his arms until she was looking directly into his eyes.
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Via,’ he said. He wasn’t smiling any longer. His dark eyes were intense, almost black.
He took her hand and led her down a path through the olive trees.
Once they were hidden from any passing cars, he pulled her back into his arms. For one long moment they looked into each other’s eyes and then he was kissing her. His mouth tasted of tomatoes and sunshine. A pool of liquid lust spread from her belly downwards and upwards until every part of her body felt as if it was on fire. If he carried on kissing her like this she would surely spontaneously combust. Even as he was kissing her she was smiling.
Dante pulled his head back while keeping her body pressed close into his. She could feel every inch of him along the length of her body.
‘What is funny?’ Although he half smiled, his eyes were glittering.
‘Nothing. Everything. I’m happy,’ she said simply.
‘Amore, I have never met someone as honest as you before. I like it,’ Dante said, and then he was kissing her again. Until she had met him, she had never been kissed like that before. She had never been held like this before. She had never felt like this before.
He pushed her gently against a tree and gathered her hands in his, pinning them above her head. She couldn’t stop this. Not if her life depended on it.
His eyes raked across her body, lingering on her breasts. He kissed her throat at the point where her pulse was beating wildly. Still holding her wrists with one hand, he dropped his other hand to the buttons of her blouse. Alice could dimly hear the sounds of cars passing on the nearby road but as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse, all awareness of the outside world left her. ‘Tesoro mio,’ he murmured, dropping kisses ever lower.
She arched her neck and raked her hands through his thick, dark hair. Each of his kisses was sending hot flames through her body. She almost couldn’t bear it. She felt as if she was going to lose control. She had to stop this. He’d called her honest. She needed to tell him the truth.
But she couldn’t call a halt. The only thing that mattered was the here and now.
Dante had pushed her blouse aside and was kissing her breasts. He circled her nipples with his tongue and ripples of pure, exquisite pleasure throbbed through her aching body.
Suddenly, to her dismay, he stopped. She moaned and tried to draw his head back down but Dante shook his head and slowly, reluctantly released her arms. His eyes were black with desire.
He buttoned up her blouse. Dazed, she could only watch.
‘Not here,’ he said hoarsely.
She knew what he was saying and she was powerless to resist. In a couple of days she would be home, back to being Lady Alice. Right now, all she wanted to do, all she ached for was to be back in his arms. She would tell him the truth. If whatever this thing was that was between them had a chance, she had to be as honest as he thought she was.
As they walked towards Dante’s house, Alice thought her heart would break. Two more nights, then she’d be returning to her life in London. The thought of leaving was tearing her in two.
The air was rich with the scent of olives as he led her by the hand through the orchard. Within a few minutes they arrived at a small whitewashed building with an ochre roof standing on its own in a little oasis of green.
Still holding her by the hand, Dante opened the door and pulled her inside. Alice only had a fleeting glimpse of a double bed before Dante was kissing her again.
Later, much later she lay with her head on his chest. He stroked her hair and murmured to her in Italian.
She traced the scar on his shoulder with the tip of her finger.
‘How did this happen?’ she asked.
‘An accident with my motorbike. Two years ago. A lorry came round on the wrong side of the road. I had to go into a ditch to miss it.’
‘You could have been killed!’ Alice said, alarmed.
‘But I wasn’t. I was hurt. A few days in hospital. It wasn’t so bad. My girlfriend at that time wasn’t happy.’
‘Have there been lots of women?’ she asked. She could have bitten her tongue the moment the words were out. Of course there had been lots of women. She could tell that from the way Dante had made love to her. As if she was precious, but also with passion and an uncanny sense of what she needed and when.
His hands paused in her hair.
‘A few. But they were not important—’ He broke off. ‘I’ve never met anyone quite like you.’
The warm glow of happiness she’d experienced since they’d made love deepened. But under the glow she felt a shiver of unease. What would he think of her when he found out she hadn’t been honest with him? She wasn’t who he thought she was. Reluctant to spoil the mood, Alice raised herself on her elbow and looked down at him. ‘Why did you decide to become a doctor?’ she asked.
He sat up and pulled her head against his chest where she could hear the strong beat of his heart. One of his hands was in her hair, the other softly caressing her neck. Everywhere he touched her sent stabs of desire coursing through her body. She hadn’t known that a simple touch on her skin could drive her wild with longing.
When his answer came his voice was deeper than ever.
‘A few years ago, I had a friend. A girl, Rosa. We had played with each other since we were children.’ His hands paused on her skin and he took a deep breath.
‘Her house was next to mine. We were always together. At school. After school. While we were growing up. Soon she was no longer a little girl but a beautiful woman.’
A stab of jealousy so strong it took her breath away ripped through Alice.
‘Did you love her?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.
Dante laughed. ‘Sì, I loved her, but we were never lovers. She was like a sister to me.’ His voice grew sombre again. ‘I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, but she always knew what she wanted to do. To be a nurse.’ He paused and Alice knew he was remembering. ‘I stayed on the farm and she went to university. The first holiday she came back, it was as if we had never been parted. She was so excited with what she was learning. She was lit up inside. But after a few days she got sick.’
Dante’s voice was like sandpaper. Alice held her breath and waited for him to go on.
‘Everyone thought it was flu. No one was worried. Her mother phoned the doctor. He told her it wasn’t a problem, to give Rosa painkillers for the headache and fever. By the time she came out in a rash, it was too late.’
‘Meningitis?’ Alice whispered.
‘Sì. It was before the time they vaccinated against it. We called the ambulance. I knew it would take too long. I didn’t want to wait. We were losing her.’
He
