The Italian, page 36
“That’s it.” I get out of bed, pick up my pillow and blanket, and I storm past him to make my way to the other room.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from you.” I walk into the spare bedroom and slam the door behind me.
I get under the covers and I hear him coming up the hall again. The door bangs open and he throws shopping bags onto the bed.
I sit up in a rush. “What are you doing?”
“Your unopened presents are not staying in the room with me.” He turns and disappears again.
I roll my eyes at his dramatics and lie back down.
He comes bursting through the door again with another armful of bags and throws them over me. “Give these away. It is obvious that you don’t want them.”
“That’s right. I don’t fucking want them.”
His eyes look like they are about to pop out of his head. “Three-carat diamond fucking earrings are not good enough for you?” He hurls the small black box that he bought to my office as hard as he can at the wall above my head and it dents the plaster.
“I don’t want your fucking presents, Enrico.” I get out of bed and walk out of the room in a rush.
“What do you fucking want, Olivia?” he yells as he follows me.
I arrive in the kitchen. “I want you.” I shake my head as I try to articulate my feelings. “I want you to be sentimental and to think about me and my feelings.”
He screws up his face, and I think he’s about to explode… literally.
“Pensi che non sia sentimentale?”
I narrow my eyes. He knows I can’t fucking understand him.
“You think I’m not sentimental, Olivia,” he sneers. “I remember every fucking word that leaves your lips. I know every curve on your body.” He disappears up the hall and into his office. I peer after him. What’s he doing now?
He reappears, carrying a wineglass and holding it up toward me. “What is this?” he yells in an outrage.
I frown in confusion.
“What is this?” He repeats.
“It’s a glass,” I say.
“Not just a glass.” He holds it higher. “This is the glass that you drank out of on the first night in my apartment in Roma.” He spins the glass so I can see the red lipstick marks on it. “I kept this for two years because it had your lips on it. I couldn’t wash it because I knew if I did, I would have lost the only mark you left with me.”
My eyes hold his.
“You think I’m not sentimental?” he yells like a madman. “Explain to me why the hell I couldn’t orgasm for two years without imagining I was with you.”
My heart drops.
“Two fucking years I lived a lie with every other woman, while my heart ached for only you!”
He turns and hurls the glass into the kitchen sink so hard that it smashes. He storms up the hall, and I hear the bedroom door slam.
I hear something hit the wall with force.
I stare at the broken glass in the sink, and my eyes fill with tears.
God, I’m a bitch.
I sit at the kitchen counter and exhale heavily. I knew we were going to have a fight tonight. I knew before we even left home.
I walk into the spare bedroom and take a long, hot shower. Half an hour later, I make my way up to our bedroom to find Enrico in bed. The blankets are pooled around his waist, and his forearm is over his eyes.
“Can I sleep in here?” I whisper.
“No.”
“I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Too late.”
I get into bed beside him and snuggle up against his large, naked body. “I didn’t open your presents because I want you to know that money doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t care about gifts. I care about your safety.”
He stays silent.
“I’m scared, Rici,” I whisper.
More silence.
“What good are gifts if I have to live without you?”
“You’re talking about the key?”
“Yes, I’m talking about the key. It freaked me out.”
He closes his eyes. “I can’t help this, Olivia. It is just a precaution.”
“Yes, you can.” I kiss his chest. “This business that you lead, this life that you live… it isn’t your dream, Rici.”
His eyes find mine.
“I’m scared you’re going to be murdered for fighting someone else’s battle.”
He exhales heavily, puts his arm around me and pulls me close. We lie in silence together for a moment, and I look up at him. “Can you promise me something?”
“What’s that?”
“Promise me that we will die on the same day.”
He frowns. “Don’t say that, bella,” he whispers. “I couldn’t bear it.”
My eyes fill with tears. “I don’t want to live in a world without you in it. Don’t leave me behind.”
He kisses my temple as he holds me close. “Nobody is going to die, my love.”
“Promise me… we go together,” I whisper through a lump in my throat.
“Shh, baby.” He rolls me onto my back. His lips drop down my neck, and the emotion coming out of him tears my heart wide open.
I love this man.
With all of my heart I love this man.
We made it through our first fight.
* * *
Roma. What a beautiful place.
I’m reminded why it’s so special to me.
It’s Friday night, and Rici has bought me here for the weekend. We’ve just had dinner at the restaurant where we met. It feels so long ago now. So much has happened, and I’ve never felt closer to anyone in my life. Something about our fight on Wednesday cemented something. The energy has shifted between us. Him telling me that he couldn’t orgasm with another woman has calmed my insecurities. I have completely given myself over to him.
I’ve been in Italy for three months now, and my time with him has been the happiest of my life.
And I was deadly serious; I don’t want to live in a world without Rici Ferrara. He promised me that everything is all right and that he was just taking precautions.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he leads me through the crowds of people by the hand.
We come to an opening, and I see The Pantheon come into view. Its lit up with an aura around it.
“Oh, it’s so magical,” I whisper.
“Our special place.” He smiles softly and takes me into his arms.
“Thank you.” I kiss his lips. “This is the perfect date.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the secret side door. Once there, he calls someone. The man in the suit comes and opens the door. “Enrico, my child. Welcome. We have been waiting.”
We walk through and the man leaves us alone. I look around and my heart stops.
There is a small round table with candles, a bottle of champagne, and two crystal glasses on it. It’s sitting right near the spot where we spoke our truths all that time ago.
“Rici,” I whisper. “You are perfect.” We kiss softly, our lips linger over each other’s.
“Olivia, non posso vivere senza di te. Ti amo con tutto il cuore. Vuoi sposarmi, amore mio?” He goes straight into the translation. “Olivia,” he whispers. “I cannot live without you. I love you with all of my heart. Will you marry me, my love?”
He drops to his knee and pulls a ring from his pocket.
My hands fly to mouth in shock. “Rici,” I whisper.
He slides the ring on my finger and then presses my hand to his face. “Answer me, my love.”
I smile through tears. “Si.” I drop to my knee beside him and kiss him softly. “A million times, si.”
27
Olivia
Enrico’s eyes search mine making my heart constrict at the overwhelming love passing between us.
It’s emotion overload, and my own eyes well with tears.
Marriage.
“Are you sure?” I whisper up at him. “We’ve only just found each other. It’s so soon.”
“Bella, I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.” His lips brush mine. “Why should we wait? I know what I want.”
This is insane, but somehow I know it’s right, and I smile softly.
Marriage.
“We have to get up.” I wince.
He pulls me up and takes me into his arms to kiss me once more. It’s not hurried or sexual. This is a kiss from the heart, and a promise of a life together.
Our life.
“Ti amo,” I whisper up at him.
“I love you, too.” He takes my face in his hands, and I smile against his lips, unable to believe what’s transpired here tonight.
We’ve developed this quirky habit of declaring our love for each other in our opposing languages. I always say it in Italian. He says it in English.
However it comes out, it’s perfect every time, and it means so much.
“Do you like your ring?” Enrico asks.
I hold my hand out and look down at it. Is this really happening? The ring isn’t fancy and showy. It’s a gold band with a single solitaire diamond—a big diamond, but simple all the same.
“It’s perfect.”
It feels heavy on my finger and is going to take some time getting used to. I smile as I stare at it.
“I love it and I love you.” He breaks out into a big, beautiful smile. “Finally, a present you like.”
God. What must it be like to be with me? “It’s the only present that matters.”
I throw my arms around his neck, and he squeezes me so tight as he lifts me up. “Let’s go home.”
* * *
The bar is empty but our hearts are full.
Fairy lights hang over us in the garden’s courtyard. It’s drawing to the end of our perfect night.
I smile up at my handsome dance partner. He was determined to recreate our first date. We’ve been to the exact same bars and danced on the same dancefloors.
The songs are different now, though—not that I remember the originals, to be honest. My brain was high on Enrico Ferrara, and still is.
Although it’s a different kind of high now. The kind that lasts a lifetime.
Out of all the woman in the world, he picked me to fall in love with, and I’m so incredibly grateful that things have worked out the way that they have between us.
He’s sweet, sexy, dominant, caring, and he listens to every damn word that I say.
I smile as I listen to the lyrics of “Lover” by Taylor Swift, and we sway side to side.
“This song is better than the last song you liked,” he tells me.
“What song?” I frown.
“The…” He frowns as he tries to remember the name of it. “The used to being loved song.”
“Huh?” I try to think back.
“Something about used to being someone you loved.”
“Oh.” I smile. “’Someone You Love’ by Lewis Capaldi.”
“The sad song about a girl leaving her man.”
“I remember. Although I think it’s more about death.”
His face falls. “Well, I hope you never get to play it.”
I giggle and rise up on my toes to kiss him. “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For being my lover… and becoming my best friend.”
He stops moving. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“What?” I frown. “Why?”
“Anybody can fall in love.” His eyes search mine. “But it takes a lot to be someone’s best friend.”
We begin to sway to the beat again, which, by the way, has now gone down in the history books as my favorite song ever. “Take me home, lover.”
“Maybe we should just get married tonight?”
“Find somewhere and we will.”
He chuckles, steps back, and tugs on my hand. “Don’t tempt me. Home time.”
* * *
He lifts my dress over my head, tosses it aside, and his lips dust my neck. We are back at the apartment in Roma—the one where we spent our first weekend together in.
His wife. Mrs Ferrara.
Suddenly, I’m desperate. Desperate to have him naked. I tear his shirt over his shoulders and throw it to the side. He gives me a slow, sexy smile and holds his hands out wide. “I’m all yours, my love.”
“Literally.” I undo his jeans and slide them down his legs to reveal his perfectly thick cock that’s hanging heavily between his legs. Thick veins run down the length of it.
He is one beautiful man.
Mine.
Unable to help it, and with a new sense of urgency, I drop to the floor in front of him and take him in my mouth.
This is it. This man and this body will be mine for life.
He hisses as he strokes my hair. “Yes, Bella,” he whispers darkly.
I keep going and going, and then he drags me to my feet and throws me on the bed. He moves over me, and in one swift motion, he slides in deep.
“Ah,” he hisses. “I love you, Olivia.” His dark eyes are locked on mine, and his hands trace my face, as if he’s memorizing every inch. His knees are wide to give him traction, and I lift my legs higher around his body, encasing his perfection.
“I want you deep,” I moan. God, I don’t think he can get deep enough today. I want every inch of him.
He inhales sharply and slams in hard, and I throw my head back with a laugh.
We can’t make gentle love if our lives depended on it.
This man makes me bad to the bone… and I fucking love it.
It’s been the most romantic night of our lives, and I can already see we are going to fuck like animals.
“Are you going to fuck me like this when we are married?” I tease.
He slams in hard. “Forever.”
* * *
Rici is wrapped around me like a blanket. My head is on his chest, and his lips rest on my forehead. We’ve made sweet, tender love well into the morning. I’m on an all-time high. I think way back to the two occasions I have been hurt when he left me. It all seems so long ago now, but even with all that devastation and heartbreak, I would do it all again to get where we are today. This is a closeness that we’ve earned, and I think the hard times have only made us a stronger unit.
“Where do you want to get married?” he asks.
I look up at him, surprised at the question. “Here, in Italy.” He frowns down at me. “Really?”
I shrug. “I’m not into big fancy things like your family are. If we got married in Australia, half of Italy would have to travel, whereas I have, like, twenty people I would want there.”
“Thank you. It would kill my mother if I didn’t marry here.”
“What do you think she’s going to say when you tell her?”
We decided not to call anyone tonight. We wanted to bask in the excitement alone for the weekend. Secretly, I think that Rici didn’t want anyone spoiling our excitement with the ‘you barely know each other’ talk.
We don’t care what they think. We know what this is.
“I shall look into next month then,” he says casually.
“Oh, you want the engagement party that soon?”
“No. I want the wedding that soon.” “A month.” I scoff. “We can’t organize a wedding in a month, Enrico. I have so much to do. I need at least… I don’t know… three months.”
He rolls his eyes. “We’ll have the engagement party in two weeks.”
“Two weeks,” I squeak. “Are you mad?”
“It will be easy to plan. My mother will do it all. This is her thing.”
I get a vision of her taking over the entire day. “No, that’s okay,” I tell him. “I want to handle this.”
He pulls me closer and inhales with a sleepy smile. “I am happy, my love.”
I kiss his broad chest. “Me too, baby.”
* * *
“Hi, Liv. How are you, lovely girl?”
“Hi, Mum.”
“How was the weekend in Rome?”
“Perfect.” I glance over to Enrico who is lying on the lounge listening, and I scrunch my face up. “Guess what happened?”
“What?”
“Enrico proposed.”
There’s silence for a while, until she eventually whispers, “What?”
“I’m getting married, Mum.”
“Liv, you hardly know this man.”
“I know him. He’s the one. He got down on one knee and proposed to me in The Pantheon. Mum, I’m so happy.”
Enrico’s eyes twinkle with a certain something as he watches me.
“Honey,” she sighs.
“Can’t you just be happy for us?” I ask. “We know what we’re doing. We’re not kids, Mum. I’m twenty-nine. I’m pretty sure I know what I’m doing.”
“I just worry.”
“You don’t need to worry. I’ve got this.”
She stays silent for a moment before she speaks again. “What’s your ring like?”
“Gorgeous.” I smile. “It’s a simple gold band with a stunning two-carat diamond.”
“Wow!” She gasps.
I laugh at her reaction. “Will you come over for a holiday so we can pick my wedding dress?” I ask hopefully.
“Darling, yes, of course. I’ll have to save for a while though. My car needed major repairs that cleaned out my bank account.”
“Okay.” I smile knowing she’s coming around. This is really happening. “I can show you around Italy. It’s so beautiful here. You’ll love it.”
“Olivia, I can’t believe this. I’m so shocked.”
I giggle. “I know. Me, too.”
“I have to go to work. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Okay, I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
She hangs up, and I turn to the sexy man on the couch. He taps his knee for me to go to him. When I do, he wraps me in his arms. “Was she okay?”
“A little worried about how quickly it’s all happened. She’ll come around as soon as she meets you.” I run my fingers through his curls. “Are you going to call your mother?”
“I’m going to see her today. I’ll tell her then.”
