Once Is Not Enough Read Online Free PDF Page A

.” It was a plea mixed with a moan. “Oh, God, no. Not like this . . .”
    He looked bewildered. Then he looked toward the bedroom. “You mean because of bed? Look. I never made love on those sheets. I just slept on them.”
    “Please! Please let me go!” Tears were blurring her vision. She hugged herself protectively and tried not to look at him. Suddenly he stared at her closely and reached out and touched her cheek as if he could not believe her tears. A curious expression came on his face. “January . . . you have made love before?” he asked quietly.
    She shook her head.
    For a moment he was silent. Then he came to her, smoothed her dress, and brushed the tears off her face. “I am sorry,” he whispered. “I had no idea. You are what . . . twenty-one . . . twenty-two?”
    “Seventeen and a half.”
    “Mama mial” He slapped his forehead. “You look so . . . so filled with knowing . . . so . . . like the Americans say . . . so cool. Mike Wayne’s daughter a virgin.” Again he slapped his forehead.
    “Please take me home.”
    “Right away.” He got into his pants, grabbed his shirt and jacket, and opened the door. He took her arm and led her through the garden to his car. They drove in silence through the deserted streets. He didn’t speak until they reached the Via Veneto. Then he said, “There is someone you care about in the States.”
    “No.”
    He turned to her. “Then let me . . . oh, not tonight . . . not tomorrow . . . not until you want me. I won’t touch you until you ask me. I promise.” When she didn’t answer, he said, “You do not trust me?”
    “No.”
    He laughed. “Listen, little beautiful American virgin. In Roma there are much beautiful Italian girls. Actresses, models, married women. All want Franco. They even make my bed, cook for me, bring me wine. Know why? Because Franco is good lover. So when Franco asks to see you and says nothing will happen, you must believe. Hah! I do not have to fight to have love. It is all around. But I want to apologize. We start fresh. Like this never happened.”
    She was silent. She didn’t want to say anything to make him angry; they were close to the hotel. She just wanted to get out of that car and get away from him.
    “It is very sad that you do not want me,” he said quietly. “Especially because you are a virgin. You see, my little January, the first time a girl gives herself to a man it is not always enjoyable . . . to her or to the man. Unless the man is expert and gentle. I would be very tender. I would take you so carefully. Make you very happy. I will even get you the pills.”
    He was so serious that her fear began to dissolve. And the wild part was he actually felt he had done nothing wrong.
    “I upset things tonight,” he went on. “I fight you because I think maybe it is part of your game. One American lady I met—she made me chase her around her suite at the Hassler and then she lock bedroom door. I start to leave and she holler, ‘No, Franco, you must break down door and tear off my clothes.’” Again he slapped his forehead, but he was grinning. “Ever try breaking down door in Italian hotel? Like iron. She finallyopen it and I chase her again and then I tear off her clothes. Whooey . . . buttons . . . lace . . . stocking pants ripped . . . everything torn . . . and it was crazy . . . we make love all night. She married to very big American star so I don’t tell you her name. But he like to do it that way too. But see . . . I am gentleman . . . I never tell who I sleep with. Not right. Yes?”
    She found herself smiling. Then she caught herself and stared ahead. It was insane. This man had just torn at her clothes, tried to rape her, and now he was asking for approval of his past exploits. Obviously he sensed her mood, because he smiled and patted her hand almost condescendingly. “You will ask me to make love to you. I know. Even now I can see your nipples harden through your dress. You have much sexual