opened the throttle to pass a lorry that was lumbering up the mountain road and just managed to squeeze into the gap between it and an oncoming car. He laughed out loud. Dio, that was closer than he would have liked.
He had ten days to spend with Alice before she returned to the UK and he was going to make the most of them.
The next days were the most exciting of Alice’s life. She met Dante every afternoon after he finished work at the hospital. He showed her a side of Italy, the real Italy, that she’d never seen before, and every day she fell harder for him. If he was puzzled that she always insisted that he drop her off at the high walls shielding the villa where she was staying, he never said anything. He waited until the gates opened in response to her pressing the buzzer before he sped away on his bike. Alice knew she should tell him who she really was, but she wanted the dreamlike state she was in to go on for ever.
Saturday was his day off and that morning, her second last day in Italy, he picked her up from outside the villa on his motorbike. He held out a helmet and as he helped with the straps his fingers brushed her throat. Her skin literally sizzled where he’d touched her.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
His eyes seemed to glow as he looked down at her. ‘I want you to see where I live. Will you come?’
Alice’s heart thumped against her ribs. There was something in those dark eyes that told her that he wasn’t asking her just because he wanted to show her where he lived.
Dry-mouthed, she could only nod. Dante drove his bike as if he were pursued by a hundred devils, overtaking when there was the smallest of gaps.
Eventually, after the scariest but most exhilarating forty minutes of Alice’s life, they drove down a dirt track before stopping next to an olive grove.
Alice eased herself off the motorbike hoping that her shaking legs would hold her. She just about managed to hobble a few steps before Dante pulled her into the crook of his arm. She leant into him, savouring the warmth of his body.
‘This is where I grew up,’ he said, gesturing towards the trees. ‘Behind this is my mother’s house and a little further is the building where I live. It used to be for the shepherds, but now it is my home.’
She turned in his arms, relaxing against his chest. Behind her, he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. In the cocoon of his arms she felt at peace. She had never felt so happy. And she had never felt so sad. Her time with Dante was drawing to an end too quickly. Through the thin material of his T-shirt she could feel his heart beating and knew hers was keeping time with his.
‘Will you come with me to my house?’ he asked. His voice vibrated through her and her heart kicked hard against her ribs. She knew what he was asking.
She 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?’