novelraw Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
Simone stepped out of the shower, feeling almost human. After a very thorough cup of tea and a tower of cookies, a makeshift lunch, and lots of time spent with Carlo and Sarah on the carpet in the lounge, some of the knots and creases in her stomach had ironed out. Sarah had been all over Carlo like an entire nest of ants, but he’d taken to it as if she was water, and he the desert.
Eventually, she’d relaxed enough to leave Sarah with Carlo while she took a shower. The shower wasn’t exactly solo, with Sarah barging into the en suite bathroom every two minutes to ask her something. Could she show Daddy this? Could they play that? Could she paint his nails?
She rubbed her hair dry, then wrapped the towel around her breasts and knotted it in place. As she strolled out of the bathroom her ears pricked. Sarah’s chatter echoed in the lounge. She took a quick peek out of the bedroom door, down the short corridor to the lounge.
Carlo sat with Sarah, the picture books she’d left them with discarded, his fingers outstretched. Sarah held the red nail polish in her hand.
A smile played around Carlo’s mouth, his eyes not shifting away from his daughter.
Simone watched, smothering a chuckle, as Sarah twisted the bottle open.
“Hold still!” Sarah’s excited voice filled the lounge, and Simone bit her lip to stop a giggle. Carlo would learn soon enough how to defend himself.
She went back to the room to rummage for some fresh clothes in her closet. She envied Sarah, who had taken to Carlo with enthusiasm and unquestioning trust. Sarah had warmed to him within minutes…but children were like that, especially when trust had never been broken. Carlo had been completely into Sarah from the first moment and had looked into her eyes like she was the most precious child in the world. Who could resist that, never mind a little girl who wanted nothing more than to have a father?
She took a pair of cut-off jean shorts and a strappy top and tossed them on the bed. Hopefully, there was more to Sarah’s immediate infatuation and adoration. Maybe it was those eyes that were so similar to her own, which gave Sarah no doubts about where she came from or belonged. Maybe it was Carlo’s voice, which had taken on a gentle, warm tone she’d never heard him speak in before.
Her hand hovered over her underwear drawer. Her boring basics stared back at her. At the back of the drawer was one lost pair of lacy underwear—washed once, never worn.
Maybe it was the fact that there had been no other men in her life, no constant flow of male strangers that had ousted Sarah from first place. She’d never exposed Sarah to unstable or uncertain relationships, making it easier for Sarah to accept Carlo for who he was. Three and a half years was a hell of a long time to wait for a knight in shining armor. For Sarah it might seem shorter, the equivalent of a couple of weeks.
She no longer needed to find excuses for Carlo’s absence from Sarah’s life and the relief was almost palpable.
Her fingers caressed the soft edge of the lace and she had to bite her lip. She was all sexed up inside, melting, hot and contracting with longing. Because he was here, in her personal space, being more than she’d ever hoped he would be to Sarah. It had only been a few hours, and yet it was as if everything had fallen into perfect harmony, leaving her craving the one last thing that would spin her world into an orbit of bliss.
There was no way she’d say no if he made the first move.
She plucked the seductive underwear from the drawer. She wasn’t going to prance about in them, giving him a catwalk show. They’d been wasting away long enough and her other underwear were gray from too many washes. She really needed to do some shopping. What did other women call it? Me time.
Laughing at the notion, she stepped into the satin knickers, the soft touch of the fabric a pleasant caress against her skin. She dropped the towel and strapped on the bra, her nipples hardening against the delicate lace. She glanced at herself in the full-length mirror. One baby down she’d managed to keep her figure, but the sheer triangle of lace in the front revealed a shade too much pubic hair. Ugh. She should have made better work of that, but with Sarah popping around like a champagne cork on speed…it would have to do.
She paused. Who the hell was she trying to fool? Shaved and scrubbed and all but begging for Carlo Carlevaro. Just like day one, all those years ago. Sure as hell no other man had ever been able to do this to her.
Resigned that Sarah’s presence wasn’t going to kill her body’s needs, she pulled on her shorts. She put on the tight top but on seeing every trace of lace embossed on her breasts, she hesitated. He couldn’t have it that easy.
She pulled another top from a hanger and dressed in what could only be called a demure, loose-fitting T-shirt. She was far from battle fit, not that it mattered. Her body begged to surrender to invasion, occupation, and annexation by what used to be, just days ago, the enemy forces.
****
Carlo glanced up from where Sarah was busy painting his thumb. Simone had walked into the lounge and leaned against the kitchen counter. Laughter sparkled in her eyes, and she suppressed it by chewing her lip. Seeing her in something other than the Carlevaro pilot’s uniform made heat spread through his chest and lower. He had to peel his gaze from the sexy shorts she wore, jeans cut off close to her groin, her legs tanned and endless as they stretched to her bare feet. He longed to run his hand down those legs and up her inner thigh, feeling her shudder at the touch, the goosebumps on her skin prickling his fingertips.
His gaze shot back to his hands. It was a slaughter. Sarah’s tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she worked on his thumb. It was the last of his fingers that still needed a blotching; the rest looked as if they’d had a rough meeting with a cheese grater.
“That’s lovely, darling,” Simone said, then coughed a laugh as she shifted to switch the kettle on.
He stared at Simone openly, which was much easier when she had her back to him. Her butt was something in those shorts and the T-shirt was just the right fit to allow copious free roaming of his hands. Dio. He wanted to press her hips to that counter, trap her with his body and let his hands tease her breasts until she begged him to touch her sex.
“All done!” Sarah called out and shot him a gorgeous smile.
His pulse slowed as he inspected his manicure. “I love it,” he announced. Geez, can one even get this stuff off? He could live with it for now if it kept that smile on Sarah’s face.
Sarah shoved the little paintbrush back into the bottle with a severe thrust, then gave the cap a twist and dropped it on the couch. “Don’t touch nothing,” Sarah said. “Smudges.”
“Okay,” he nodded, then burst out laughing. “This is a first.”
Sarah clambered over him and he automatically shot his hands into the air to keep her from touching his wet nails. She took up a half-eaten cookie on the side table, took a bite and offered him the other half. He opened wide, and she popped the cookie into his mouth.
“Yummy,” Sarah said, crumbs on her lips as they chewed together.
Carlo looked at her and leaned back on the sofa with a grin. She was the most vibrant little person in the world. He might have missed much, but he sure was going to make up for it. Something in Sarah reminded him of Julia, of Angelo, when they were little and their mom had still been around. Life had had no jabs then.
It was good to be away from his family. Sometimes the responsibility he felt toward Julia and Angelo seemed weightier than the whole of Carlevaro International. It wasn’t something he could divide and entrust to other people. His family didn’t come with a board of directors.
Simone opened the fridge and he watched as she rearranged some things in it, shaking a milk box and sniffing at something in a plastic container.
“Do you want to go out for dinner?” he asked. Outside the sun was setting, and its warm glare filtered in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, turning everything a shade of diluted gold.
Her hands stilled when she didn’t answer him. Had he crossed some line? “We don’t have to. I just thought it might be easier for you?”
She closed the fridge and turned. “Sarah missed her nap, and I don’t want her to get cranky in a restaurant.”
He didn’t believe that was the whole truth. From what he had read in her eyes, he sensed she wasn’t ready to be seen with him and Sarah together in the outside world.
He couldn’t blame her. Most of their expatriate staff lived on the Peninsula; the pilots’ digs were two blocks away. Someone would be bound to recognize them if they had dinner in one of the local joints. He’d subjected her to enough in his years of absence; he couldn’t open the field for more speculation by being suddenly present. Not until they’d figured this out. “I’ll go get take out.”
“Pizza?” Sarah chirped. She’d made herself comfortable, head on the armrest of the couch, using his thigh as a footstool.
He brushed a curl from her forehead with his forefinger. “I would love to think that’s your Italian blood speaking, sweetie.”
Sarah yawned.
She probably hadn’t understood a word he’d said. “Pizza it is, if Mommy says yes.”
“Yes, please, Mommy.” Sarah struggled up and slipped to the floor, clutching her groin.
“Go to the toilet, Sarah,” Simone said, “before it’s too late.”
Sarah pattered down the corridor and disappeared into the bathroom.
Simone met his gaze and folded her arms over her chest.
“Pizza?” He didn’t want her to dash his hopes of having dinner with them. At least dinner. Only dinner. He’d take whatever she wanted right now.
“Pizza Margarita for Sarah. No green stuff, like basil or rocket, otherwise she won’t eat it.”
He nodded. No green stuff.
She dropped her gaze, first to his lips, then lower. “You know what I like.” She was perusing him, her gaze wandering, and a soft blush tinged her cheeks. “Nothing’s changed in that department.”
Her words could go two ways, and inside him the heat glowed. He let go of a slow, inaudible breath. She looked up again and they stared at each other for a moment. Simone glanced toward his suitcase and laptop bag that stood in the corner of the lounge.
He was welcome, but possibly not that welcome. He suppressed a sigh. “I’ll go check in at the hotel. Take a shower. Fetch the pizza.” He wanted to give her a last chance to opt out. She could tell him now that he needn’t go stay somewhere else that night.
“You can take my car, no need to bother with a taxi. For now.” She didn’t move away from the counter but reached to pick a key from a row of hooks on the kitchen wall.
He went to her. “Thank you.”
She held out the keys. “First parking bay on your right when you walk out of the lobby.”
He aimed for the key, but instead took her hand in his. She didn’t twist her hand to drop the keys in his, or pull away, but held still. He unwrapped her fingers one by one, until the keys lay flat on her palm. Her skin was warm, her fingers so willing to uncurl at his quiet command. He took the key, but kept a hand on hers, tracing circles on her palm with his thumb, then running his fingertips over the back of her hand, slowly, back and forth, determined, lengthening the distance with each feather-light stroke. He leaned toward her, the soft brush of her breaths that had become shallower, faster, flowing over his skin. “Is there anything else you need, besides the pizza?” he murmured. “Milk? Wine? Condoms?”
He was moving in for the kill, but had never feared a rebuff more. If she showed him the door now…the way the tension had been burning in him for the past few days, he’d combust. When he looked into her eyes she appeared dazed; her mouth had opened slightly and he wanted to melt those lips further, in a languid kiss.
“All of the above,” she whispered, her focus on his mouth. “For what it’s worth, with our track record.”
He chuckled softly, but didn’t let her sobering words overshadow the moment. Instead he let his fingers trace all the way to her elbow, which he cupped in his hand, and drew her toward him. He bent over to kiss her, and her lips met his without hesitation, willing, wanting and opening in time with his. He deepened the kiss, and she softened against him.
“I pooped.” Sarah’s voice rose like smoke between them. “Wipe my bottom.”
He pulled away but caught Simone’s fingers in his, staring down at Sarah. “This is surreal.” He chuckled, the heat that the kiss had ignited cooling.
“You’ve no idea.” Simone let go of his hand, and took Sarah’s in hers. “Daddy is going to fetch pizza.”
“You come back?” Sarah gawked at him with eyes wide.
“Always, sweetie.” He jingled the car keys. “Won’t be another minute if I could help it.”
Simone took another key off the hook. “House keys, just in case.”
He took them from her with a slow grin. A band of triumph jammed in his chest. “Thank you.”
“Buy some nail polish remover too, if you know what that is.” She shot him an innocent grin as they ambled off to the bathroom.
“Do you think the hotel’s spa will know how to deal with it?” he called after her. He honestly had no clue.
“Deal with what?” Sarah asked. “Dragons?”
“Nothing serious, darling,” Simone said. She paused at the bathroom’s door. “Sure, that would be better, because I’m not dealing with that.”
He strode out of the apartment with a chuckle and with a new concern for his fingers. He stuffed them in his pockets and took the stairs, not sure he wanted to look at them either.