It Takes Two (Italian Summer Book 1) (13 page)

“You don’t switch off when I tell you about my work?” He sounded impressed.

“I find it interesting when you tell me about some of the managers who sign off the big sale without being too sure what they’ve bought.”

“They’ve bought the right thing,” he told her. “It’s just that they don’t understand the system, though they will never admit to it. It would be like admitting that they don’t understand why they’re in those high positions.”

This was safe talk and it made her instantly feel at ease.

It was a harmless friendship; dare she say it, a mild bit of flirtation. Even now, knowing that he’d had a haircut, she wondered if the fact that he looked more appealing each time she saw him was the attraction at play or was it because he had made an effort to look good for her?

Or was it both?

“What are you thinking?” he asked, breaking up the veil of silence that had come between them.

“Tori,” she said. “I was wondering if she was okay.” Far better to tell him that than to admit the truth.

“She’ll be fine. Otherwise, you would never have left her.”

True.

“You say your sister and her fiancé are away for a few days? Maybe that’s why you’re doubly worried this evening.”

“Maybe.”

“The wedding is next month?”

“Yes, in the middle of August.”

He paused then, before asking her, “When will you return to Denver?”

“She asked if I could stay until she returns from her honeymoon—at the beginning of September.”

Wanting to gauge his reaction she stole a sideways glance at him when he had his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead.

“And what did you say?”

“Of course I’ll help her.”

“You’re staying until then?”

“Yes.”

He glanced at her and she caught the sparkle in his eyes before he looked away again; the barest hint of a smile played on his lips.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage and a feeling of warmth and light infused her body.

From where he parked the car they had to walk a small distance to get to the new restaurant he had in mind. She followed him along a row of cobbled streets and down an alleyway with no idea where she was going and trusting him implicitly. A few times as they walked along the narrow cobbled streets she stumbled in her heels, almost falling against him.

“I’ll wear sneakers next time,” she said, jokingly. But it was only to hide the way her heart was beating uncontrollably under her shirt.

At last he stopped outside a darkly lit restaurant. Bright red and green lanterns hung outside and when they walked in it was a welcome relief not to be greeted by Gioberti for a change. The place was busy and full of people.

Small and intimate,
she thought. She looked around her at the candlelit tables close to one another with their classic chequered red and white fabric tablecloths and thin bottles of oils.

Wringing her hands together, she suddenly felt unsure. The fact that the place was so intimate and discreet both bothered and excited her. Gioberti’s was safe—it was brightly lit and loud, full of chatter, and with Gioberti interrupting them every now and then, they didn’t feel so cloistered, as though they were the only people in the restaurant. This place was entirely different. There was an undercurrent of secrets and suspense here. It was the sort of place where people who shouldn’t be together would come to be together.

A waiter seated them, and then left them, and she could only stare across the table at him.

“You like it?” he asked, eager for her response.

She stared at the candles, at the wick all melted and loose, falling in clumsy rivulets clustered at its base. “It’s charming,” she replied, “It’s very…”
Very sensual,
she wanted to say but she dared not use that word. “Nice,” she said instead. “Did you bring Celeste here?” It wasn’t the ideal question, perhaps but she had to break the spell. And it worked. Her reply hadn’t been the response he’d been looking for.

“She loved it.” Fire flashed in his eyes.

“I can see why.” She picked up the menu and pretended to look through it.

They ate and because the food was so good, and made a change from Gioberti’s menu, their conversation began to flow as easily and as comfortably as it had in the past. She soon forgot her initial unease and began to relax though she kept her cell on the table just in case Lizzi rang.

“Why don’t you call her?” Ruben suggested after she’d eyed her phone for the millionth time that evening.

“I don’t want to disturb them. Lizzi might be putting Tori to bed, or playing. She’d call me if there was a problem.”

“Yet you still worry when she doesn’t,” he said, studying her face.

“You never stop worrying about your child from the moment you become a parent.”

“I can believe that,” he said. “I think you are an excellent mother.”

“I do my best. I can’t say I always am. But I try to be.”

“She’s very lucky to have you.”

“I’m the lucky one.” She believed it with all her heart. Maybe she was ready for another baby? A brother or sister for Tori to play with.

“I’m away next week on a training course.” He told her.

“I thought you knew everything there was to know about selling?” She asked, mischievously.

“Apparently I don’t know everything,” he grinned. “This course is about reading body language and second guessing your client’s refusal to buy.”

“You learn how to force them into buying something they don’t want?” She angled her head, puzzled.

“Force might be too strong a word,” he said, raising his eyebrows and smiling.

“But you’ll overcome their resistance to buy without them even knowing they were resisting?”

“Something like that. It sounds interesting.”

“It sounds amazing.” She said and let him refill her wine glass.

“But I won’t be here.” He didn’t need to say anymore. It simply meant that they wouldn’t be able to meet up next week. It was just as well she’d called him tonight.

“But after that, I’ll be back and maybe next time we could try somewhere else.” She knew that by then the wedding would dominate and Carlos and Elsa would be over. Her time with Ruben was fast coming to a close but she chose not to mention that right now and spoil the evening.

“I like our evenings, Rona.”

“I do too,” she murmured, then grinned, so as to lighten the tone. “I hope they help.”

“Help?”

“Help you forget Celeste,”

“Celeste?” he laughed. “See, you’ve already made me forget her.”

“I’m glad to be of assistance.”

“What was your therapy?” he asked. “Mine was to get over Celeste. What was yours?”

He had her then. “No therapy,” she said, evasively. “It was good to feel appreciated.” She closed her eyes and winced. That wasn’t what she’d meant.

“Your husband doesn’t appreciate you?”

She shook her head. “No, that’s not what I meant.” She suddenly felt wrong discussing her relationship with Carlos with anyone, especially Ruben. “I don’t want to stay out too late,” she told him, all too aware that it was past nine o’clock and that Lizzi had yet to get home. She left her full glass of wine on the table.

“I understand,” he said and put his hand out to get the bill.

Had it been a short evening, or was it that each time she saw him time flew past quickly? She seemed to lose track of it and everything around her whenever she saw Ruben. With him she was in her own golden bubble, protected from the harshness of reality, cocooned, content and happier than she’d been in a while. She imagined this was what it must have been like for Ava, finding Nico at a time when things with Connor had turned sour.

Ava had walked free because she’d had no ties. But, thought Rona…her case was different.

Why was she thinking these thoughts? This wasn’t reality; she managed to suspend reality each time she saw him. When they talked she felt the emotional connection that she’d lost with Carlos. With Ruben she had the undivided attention of a person who made her feel as though she mattered.

This evening had seemed more serious. There was an intensity about it that hadn’t been there before. Gone was the fluffiness, the lightness and playfulness of their previous rendezvous. Their conversations, while still on safe ground, seemed deeper. He would hold her gaze for a little too long, or she would say something and watch his face for a reaction. It was like falling in love again, but in slow motion: unsure, unsteady and unable to resist the pull.

It felt as though she was taking the first slow, scary and tentative steps into the unknown.

She wasn’t sure she liked it.

Chapter 19

They walked back along the small little alleyway and sometimes his fingers brushed against hers for a heartbeat. He would move them away then, and she would pretend not to notice.

She hadn’t felt a thrill so sweet, so painful, since the first time she had kissed a boy.

They turned the corner to the street where his car was parked under the light of a lamp and she breathed an easy sigh. They walked towards the car, neither of them saying a word. But instead of walking over to his side of the car, he stopped and stood still and, caught off-guard, she did too. It was only when he looked at her that she became aware of the crazy, chaotic feelings that seared her insides.

This wasn’t like being in the bar back in Denver where easy put downs were part of her DNA. She was used to being the sassy one who always had the answers, the one with the acerbic remarks and the put downs. When it came to the all too eager eyes of strangers, she knew how to handle herself but here, tonight, under the stars and the sky, in the warm, heady night filled with wine and longing, Rona felt powerless. It was an emotion she wasn’t used to.

They’d shared so much of themselves that for the first time ever she felt vulnerable. Her pulse sprinted and desire flickered in his eyes. Her blood raced around her body, intoxicating her with the idea of lust and attraction that were so wrong and the lines blurred between what was allowed and what could only be imagined.

He stroked her arm, his thumb pressing gently around her wrists while his fingers encircled them slowly, gently, pulling her towards him until nothing but an inch of air separated them. Under the light of the lamppost, his eyes were dewy, his skin shiny. She felt her heart trying to leapfrog its way out of her throat.

“I’m glad you liked the new place,” he murmured while still stroking her wrists. She didn’t recall ever knowing that her wrists were an erogenous zone. The way Ruben looked at her made her skin tingle all over as if all of her was now an erogenous zone.

He left her speechless and all she could do was nod. She wanted to tell him that she had a great time tonight, but some part deep down inside her told her that he already knew. The subtlest hint of his cologne seeped into her senses. It was a scent she had become used to and her body warmed and longed for his closeness. Prickly heat kissed her arms, neck, and chest.

Long before his lips touched hers.

His smile turned serious and in the next moment—the moment where each of them should have walked to their respective car doors, climbed in and driven away—he moved in slowly and pressed his lips on hers. She remembered that sensation, of new lips, a different feel and texture to the ones imprinted on her soul for so many years. It was sweet, and new, his kiss, mixed up with red wine and lust. Gentle, probing, controlled lust and desire mixed in with raw wanting. He didn’t move any closer, their bodies didn’t touch, just his fingers around her wrists and his lips on hers—for the gentlest and sweetest of kisses.

Lips pressed for the longest, most bittersweet moment.

Her heartbeat clattered like the lid of a trashcan rolling around the ground. He moved away and examined her face, checking for her mood, her reaction.

In one moment what had been imagined had become real. He left her breathless, speechless, and less. Less of her, and less sure of what it was she really wanted.

She tried to smile, but she was a myriad of conflicted emotions—confused and unsure.

Who had she been kidding? It had been destined to happen from the start. The attraction had always been there, no matter how much she had convinced herself otherwise, and her heart had known, long before her mind had caught up, that this was where it had all been heading.

This wasn’t Carlos.
Guilt pricked at her and she pulled away and walked over to the passenger door. He moved too and the only sound in the silky silence was the beep and thud of car locks opening.

No words were spoken during the journey home. She was unsure of everything, and in the darkness, felt the relief that her nakedness would not be exposed.

When he finally reached her pensione he parked outside and kept the engine running. The outside light had come on and she was able to see his face in the dim light.

“Thank you,” she said and grabbed her purse.

“I’m sorry if I—”

“Don’t be,” she said quickly. She didn’t want him to be sorry about anything. Her emotions were a whirlpool of confusion, and she needed time to sift through the debris and see what was left behind. But she would not have him apologize for the evening, which had been lovely. For the most part. Up until the end. It was everything she’d imagined, for she
had
thought of it, yet it was also not what she’d imagined.

She needed to sleep on it. “I have to go, Ruben.”

“I know,” he said. “I understand. I also understand if you don’t ever want to see me—”

“Shhhhh,” she said and almost put a finger to his lips but moved it away quickly as though the idea had singed her skin.

“I should go.”

“Goodnight, Rona,” he said, and when she opened the door and the car light came on, they glanced at one another like strangers who had suddenly become something more.

As he drove off she walked up the driveway fumbling for her keys and her heart nearly dropped when she heard the ringtone of her cell blasting out in the dead quiet of the night. Immediately thinking the worst—that something had happened to Tori—she grabbed the phone without looking as she continued to search for the keys.