Page 27 of Chasing Caine
Our room sat high on the cliffs of southeastern Capri, looking down over the Faraglioni rock formations far below. The night before, we shared a romantic dinner at sunset on our private balcony, as the sun dipped into the ocean. This morning, we woke in each other's arms and made love. Called for breakfast. Made love again.
She stroked my chest, still straddling me as I softened. Scrunching her nose, she said, “Sorry about that.”
I wrapped an arm around her waist to sit up and kissed her gently. Her fingers raked through my hair and down my back, sending jolts through my happily exhausted body. There was no getting enough of this woman.
She slid a leg off me, breaking our contact. I crossed the room to the mirror and inspected the red marks on my chest, eyeing her in the reflection. She’d snuck into a silk negligee while I was guiding room service out to the balcony with our breakfast, which was surely cold by now.
“Don’t worry, bella, I don’t think it will bruise.” I prodded where she had dug her fingers into my flesh and pretended to wince. “Much.”
“I’m so sorry!”
I crossed to the bed and nudged her, eliciting a yelp of laughter as she fell back onto the tangle of sheets.
“I’m teasing. You’re not the only tough one in this relationship, you know.”
She shook her head and cleared the hair covering her face. As she sat up, she smoothed a hand over the slip. “Good surprise?”
“The best. I had no idea you packed it.”
The corner of her mouth lifted as she sat up. “Chiara has good taste.”
“Speaking of things which taste good.” I raised an eyebrow, rewarded by her widened eyes, and I extended a hand to her. “Breakfast?”
She frowned at me, flicking her eyes down my body. “You should put some clothes on if we’re going to eat outside.”
I considered heading for the patio doors anyway to see her reaction but thought it smarter to retrieve a pair of shorts from my suitcase. “Probably.”
She got off the bed and came closer, rubbing a hand along my back while I dressed. “So, we did the Blue Grotto, the funicular, and Anacapri yesterday. What’s the schedule for today?”
I turned and wrapped my arms around her. “Shopping, beach, lunch, and back to Sorrento this afternoon.”
“Ugh, you and your shopping.” She rolled her eyes and spun out of my grasp, plucking a robe from a nearby chair and heading toward the food.
I grabbed her hand, pulling her back to me. “I promise not to buy anything for you.”
She smirked, running her fingers over the deep red marks on my chest. “How generous of you.”
“Intentionally not generous, you mean.”
She turned to the balcony, a playful sway to her hips which I’d never seen from her before. My plan was working. Her nerves around me were calming and she was growing more confident in herself. I’d found it remarkable, from the first night we truly met, how in control she seemed with everything but her heart. Being near me had once made her apprehensive, sweaty palms and all. A woman as strong and fiery as her, nervous to look at me, scared to touch me. Before she left Napoli, she’d have to be comfortable enough to carry us through four months apart.
“However, if I buy something for myself and it happens to fall into your bag, I can’t be held responsible.”
She shot a disapproving glare over her shoulder. “Do I need to put a restraining device on you?”
I held my wrists together toward her, waggling my eyebrows. “If you insist, bella.”
“Grazie,Mario.”Ihungup the phone and headed to our table at the beach club restaurant. The exposed beams of the roof were covered in raffia, providing shade to the few dozen tables on the patio. Our table was at the edge, with an unobstructed view of the cliffs rising above us and the sea below.
Samantha wore a long flowered periwinkle wrap dress over her small white bikini. Her wide-brimmed hat sat on the table next to her, and her eyes were fixed on the Faraglioni, the tremendous sea stacks jutting out of the water. Mezzo, the shortest, with the hole at its base, stood over two hundred and fifty feet, while Stella and Fuori stood another hundred feet taller.
Her long caramel-colored hair hung in loose waves, dancing in the gentle breeze. She took in the view, her soft smile telling me she’d found at least some measure of serenity. Surrounded by the sounds of water splashing on the rocks below the restaurant’s deck, the buzz of voices in a variety of languages, and the scents of grilled seafood, we were in paradise. I’d been there several times before, but with her, it was different. Wonderful.
When I reached the table, I took her hand and kissed it. Her gaze turned to meet mine and the contented smile grew. Four days ago, I thought I’d lost her, but here she was with me. The love of my life.
“What did he say?” Her brain never stopped. It was likely still on the missing fresco from Pompeii, and she no doubt meant Mario.
“That we’ve paid the bill and may go down to the beach now. Our sun beds are reserved.”