Italian Passion Read Online Free PDF Page A

she did not mention the exact circumstances of her
holiday. “It’s wonderful, I can’t believe I’ve never managed to get here
before. I’ll certainly be back.”
    Marco smiled, his gaze locking with
hers. “I hope you will too.”
    Vanessa suddenly felt a little short
of breath, as if she had been running. The pasta was delicious but she was so
overcome by a rush of desire for the man sitting opposite her that she could
have been eating sawdust for all she cared.
    Careful, Vanessa , warned a
niggling voice within her. You’re falling for a complete stranger .
Ignoring the voice, Vanessa held Marco’s gaze. She had never felt like this; it
was as if she had just taken a powerful drug. She felt dizzy with lust. If they
had not been in a public place she would have thrown herself across the table
into his arms.
    “So,” Vanessa took a deep breath and
forced her gaze away from his, “tell me about your life. Are you from Florence?
Do you like it here?”
    “I’m from a town called Lucca, not
far from Florence,” Marco explained. “I came here for work ten years ago and
never left. Yes, I do like it here, and I love my job, even if it’s exhausting
at times.”
    “The hours must be a killer,” Vanessa
sympathised. “You’re working while everyone else is out enjoying themselves.”
    Marco nodded, taking a sip of wine.
“Yes, that’s one of the downsides of my job – but not tonight.” He gave her
another smile and Vanessa’s breath caught once more.
    Careful Vanessa , the voice
warned once more. Once you take this path there’s no way back.
    Suddenly, she did not care.
    They ate slowly, taking bites
in-between a steady stream of conversation. They talked about everything –
nearly everything, for Vanessa avoided any mention of her love-life. In
contrast, Marco told her that his last girlfriend had been nearly a year
earlier. They had been together for nearly five years but their relationship
ended once she moved away for work and they ended up growing apart. Since then,
Marco had thrown himself into work, taking extra shifts to fill up his suddenly
empty weekends.
    Eventually, the trattoria closed for
the evening, and they were forced to move on. When Marco hesitantly suggested
that they have a nightcap at his place, Vanessa agreed.
    You should be playing this
cool, the voice returned to torment her. You shouldn’t be going back to his flat
on the first date.
    Shut-up , Vanessa
pushed her conscience aside and followed Marco up the two flights of stairs to
his flat. When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.
    Marco lived in a tidy, if spartan,
studio flat. Vanessa could see, at a glance, that he loved cooking. Although
the living space was functional, with a sofa-bed, a small table, chairs and a
bookcase; the small kitchenette was packed – wall to ceiling – with cooking
utensils and ingredients.
    “Sorry about the mess,” Marco scooped
a pile of washing off the floor and dumped it into the hamper next to the
bathroom door, before giving Vanessa a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t expecting a
guest.”
    He poured them tiny glasses of limoncello – the delicious lemon liqueur from the Amalfi coast. Vanessa had
heard of the liqueur, but never tasted it.
    “It’s like a dose of sunshine in a
glass,” she enthused. “Delicious!”
    They finished their liqueurs and sat
chatting on the sofa. All the while, Vanessa was aware of his proximity, his
heat, and the faint spice of his aftershave. She had never felt this attracted
to Richard, not even in the beginning. It was as if a magnet, powerful and
irresistible, was pulling her towards Marco. She did not have the will to fight
it.
    One moment they were talking, the
next she was in his arms and his mouth was devouring hers.
    Moments later, they were both naked.
    Marco gently pushed her back on the
sofa and lay against her. She could feel him trembling, such was his need for
her. Vanessa entwined her body with his, her fingers tangling in his hair,
their