Текст книги "Semper Fi"

Автор книги: Jane Harvey-Berrick

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

“And Amy,” Caro said, her voice teasing.

I groaned. “Yeah, and she’s thrilled about that.”

“Well, she’ll be much happier when we show her the new, improved Sebastian Hunter. I could tell her that I’ve tamed you.”

I threw her a look.

“You’re treading on dangerous ground there, Venzi.”

She sat back and smiled at me. “You’re so masterful when you talk like that, Sebastian.”

I knew she was just yanking my chain, but there’d be payback for that.

I leaned forward and stared at her. “Yeah, well, if we can find a fucking pharmacy, you’ll find out just how ‘masterful’ I can be.”

“Looking forward to it,” she smiled.

“You know what we should do, Caro?” I said, as we sat in the warm Mediterranean sunshine, a huge fucking relief after the grayness of Geneva. “We should drive up to Amalfi. The coast road has some gnarly mean bends—see what the bike can really do. There should be some great views, too.”

“That sounds fun,” she said, although her face told me she was less than thrilled with the idea.

“That’s my girl!” I grinned, winking at her.

After I paid for our drinks, we walked through the town, on the lookout for Via Roma. It turned out to be a wide avenue running alongside the harbor. Better still, it had a farmacia.

I pushed the door open, finding an old fashioned mom and pop type of place. The preservativi had a shelf high up all to themselves. I chose Trojans—a brand I knew and trusted. I didn’t care if Caro got knocked up, but she obviously did. So I’d play by her rules—for now.

Caro was at the makeup counter, which surprised me as I hadn’t seen her wear makeup so far. She paid for mascara and a dark red lipstick which she slid into her pocket.

“Looking forward to tasting that lipstick on you later,” I whispered.

“Looking forward to tasting you later,” she whispered back.

Fuck me, game on! I was so getting laid tonight.

Signora Carello’s villa was amazing and it overlooked the water. I wouldn’t have cared if it was a shed with no roof because it put a smile on Caro’s face.

I rang the bell and a woman opened the door almost immediately. She must have been pushing 70, but I could tell she’d been a knock-out in her day. She was thin and very upright for her age, with piled-up hair that was still black and looked natural.

“Ah, the young travelers Aberto mentioned,” she said in accented English. “Welcome to my home. Please, come in. Let me show you the room. My name is Signora Carello.”

She led us up a flight of shallow steps and opened the door into a large room with a balcony facing the sea.

The bed had curtains, like in a movie, and Caro glowed with happiness.

“Oh, this is just lovely!”

“Thank you, signora.”

Caro blushed—it was so damn cute.

“Actually, it’s signorina.”

For some reason her reply annoyed me.

“I’m working on that,” I muttered.

Caro pretended not to hear me but the old lady looked pleased. Damn! Why couldn’t I charm the panties off of Caro? It always worked on other women.

I mentioned the motorcycle, hoping that the signora would have somewhere around back to park it.

“Oh, I used to enjoy riding on a motorcycle in my day!” the old lady said, surprising the hell outta me. “Oh, yes, young man … I was quite fast in my youth.”

My brain immediately decided to go there. Wow, reeeeally didn’t want to know that. And, holy shit, I think I might have been blushing. What the fuck?!

“I’ll go get the bike,” I muttered.

“Sebastian,” Caro said quickly, “would you mind if I stay here and take a bath?”

“No, that’s fine,” I said, as an idea struck me. Her eyes narrowed, but I was already on my way. “I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll walk you out,” said the old lady.

She followed me down the stairs and out into a sunny courtyard.

“You can put your motorcycle there,” she said, pointing to a small paved area. “I hope it doesn’t leak oil—so difficult to clean it off sandstone. My boyfriend had an English motorcycle, a Triumph. It always leaked oil. Very annoying.” Then she smiled at me. “But I did love riding on it.”

Triumph made nice bikes, but she was right about the oil. I shook my head to focus.

“Signora, I wonder if you could help me with something?”

“If I can,” she said. “I had a feeling you wanted to ask me something.”

She may have been seventy, but she was damn observant.

“I want to take Caro somewhere real special—somewhere fancy, you know?”

She gave me a measured look. “Is there a particular reason for this? I’m being nosy, I know, but indulge me, young man.”

“My name’s Sebastian Hunter, ma’am.”

“A lovely name. Piacere! And this special occasion?”

I felt the blush return—what a fuckin’ tool, but I blundered on.

“I’m going to ask Caro to marry me and…”

I didn’t get any further before she flung her arms around my shoulders and kissed me three times.

“Ah, bello, I thought it must be that! You look at her with such love in your eyes. I’m so happy for you. She will say yes, of course.”

I rubbed my neck nervously. “I sure hope so, ma’am, but she’s kind of off marriage so…”

“No, you are wrong. You she loves. I know this. Yes, let me see … somewhere special … ah, I have it! If you drive along the Amalfi coast for 20 minutes, you will see Capri on your left. The road is very beautiful—perfect for your motorcycle. At the top is a mountain pass: you must stop there for the view—it is a perfect place to propose and…”

“Um, well, we’re going to visit the place where her father was born tomorrow. Capezzano Inferiore, you know it?”

The signora sighed. “Yes, I know it. That is very romantic. I have high hopes for you, Sebastian Hunter. Romance is much needed in our lives, no?”

“I guess I agree with that, ma’am!”

“I know just the place you must take her—Il Saraceno. It is a very fine hotel with wonderful views of Capri. It is the perfect place to make love all night.”

I shifted uncomfortably and tugged at the collar of my t-shirt. “Um, yes, ma’am. Um, we’ll need some fancy clothes to go with the fancy hotel. I want to buy Caro a dress—something amazing. I guess I’ll need a tux, but renting is fine.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Si, I can think of one or two places you could try.” Then she sighed again. “Young love—it sweeps all before it. L’amore mantiene giovani.”

It took a moment to translate the second half of her sentence: The heart that loves is always young. Her smile was wistful, but then she squeezed my hand and rushed into the house to write down the addresses I was going to need.

I leaned against the wall while I waited for her. I was trying to look casual, but my heart was racing. I’d said it out loud; I’d admitted that I wanted Caro to marry me. I tried to imagine it happening, saying the words.

Fuck, I really needed to think about this.

First stop was a fancy-looking woman’s dress shop, and I felt as conspicuous as a hippy at Boot Camp.

The moment I stepped through the doorway, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled as I felt eyes on me. At least they weren’t hostile—in fact I’d go as far as to say they were very … welcoming.

A skinny, well-dressed woman with pulled-back hair and no tits sauntered toward me, putting so much extra swing into her walk that I half-expected her to dislocate a hip.

“Signore,” she purred, “welcome to Camilla’s. How may I help you?”

This I could handle. I’d been ‘handling’ women like her for the last six years.

“I’m looking for a special dress for a very beautiful woman—I can see that I’ve come to the right place.”

The turmoil that flashed across her face was too fucking funny, but I gave her my best polite smile, and she had no option but to return it.

“For your wife, signore?”

“I hope so. I’m going to ask my girlfriend to marry me. And if she says yes, I’m going to take her to Il Saraceno for the night.”

“She will say yes, signore, I have no doubt.”

She helped me pick out a silky dress in dark blue that I knew would look amazing against Caro’s clear, tan skin. The matching shoes cost me more than a month’s wages, but it was going to be so worth it. Because despite what the saleswoman said, I was still nervous about what Caro was going to say. She’d made it pretty damn plain that she wasn’t planning on marrying a guy in the military again. I hoped I’d done enough to make her change her mind, but a small voice of doubt was growing louder. What the fuck would she want with a dumb grunt who’s only got a high school diploma? And if I left the Marines, an unemployed dumb grunt, too.

I wanted to believe that we’d been given our second chance for a reason, but maybe that was wishful thinking. It was making my brain hurt just thinking about it. The sooner I asked Caro and knew the score, the better.

The saleswoman also talked me into buying something cute but more casual for this evening, and picked out a short skirt and a pair of those round-toed flat shoes that chicks seem to like. If I had my way, Caro would be in nothing but a pair of fuckin’ sexy high heels that made her legs look endless—especially wrapped around my waist. A man can dream. I’d go for the short skirt as second best. She looked amazing whatever she wore, but I wanted to see her in something other than jeans for a change.

I also got talked into buying some sexy-as-fuck panties and bra for Caro. They cost about the same as a new kidney, but I looked on it as an investment. Trying to describe the size of Caro’s tits was … interesting.

Next stop was an upscale men’s shop where I rented a tux; even that was a pain in my ass finding something that fit right. And the guy measuring me up was entirely too hands-on for my taste. But I think he knew he was pissing me the fuck off, because he backed down when I told him he’d end up losing a few teeth if his tape measure went near my junk again—although my Italian might have been kinda off, because he looked scared.

Next and final stop was a motorcycle rental place a short way up the coast road. After a brief discussion, the owner agreed to buy the Honda. I had to take a hit on the deal because I was in a hurry to sell, but what the hell—I’d gotten a lot of fun out of the beast, and I could always buy another—maybe a Ducati next time … wherever the fuck I landed up. I hope it would be on the East Coast with Caro.

But selling the Honda would be easier than trying to get it shipped back to the US—well, easier than the damn paperwork.

I was hot and sweaty by the time I got back to Signora Carello’s villa, and I’d been without my Caro fix for way too long.

I parked the bike and ran up to our room, taking the stairs two at a time. She must have heard me because she called out as soon as I put the key in the door.

“You missed a great bath. I’ve been sitting here enjoying the view—naked, except for a towel.”

I walked up behind her, kissing her damp hair and running my hands over the towel that was wrapped around her. I was so consumed by touching her that I completely forgot she’d spoken.

“You’ve been gone ages,” she murmured. “I was beginning to think you got lost.”

“Had some business to take care of, baby.”

She twisted around to look at me, narrowing her eyes, the journalist in her demanding to know what I’d been doing; the woman in her excited as well as curious.

“Come on, Hunter, spill. What business?”

I grinned, giving her enough information to throw her off the scent.

“Signora Carello told me somewhere I can rent a tux, so it’s game on for tomorrow night. We’re going upscale, baby.”

“Really?” she said excitedly. “Where?”

She wasn’t getting that piece of intel.

“Can’t tell you. Not even if you torture me.”

“Are you sure about that? Because I think it can be arranged, Sebastian,” she smiled, running her hand over my hip.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

I picked her up out of the chair, carrying her into the bedroom while she fastened her arms around my neck, kissing me hungrily.

“Ugh, you’re all sweaty!” she pretended to complain.

“Yeah? Any objections if I get you all sweaty, too?”

“None whatsoever.”

And those were almost the last words we spoke for the next two hours, although she screamed my name several times. We got through three condoms and had seven orgasms between us. Guess we’d been saving up.

Caro was splayed out across the bed, limp and flushed from our long-delayed fuckathon. Yeah, and she was going to need another shower.

“Oh my God, I can’t move!” she gasped.

I was trying hard to pull it together, but that woman had wrung me out dry—for now.

“Fuck!” I muttered, trying to force my legs to move.

Eventually, I managed to roll over, enjoying the view of her long dark hair spread across the pillow. Although her eyes were closed, her kiss-swollen lips curved upward in a smile.

“I know you’re looking at me, Sebastian, but whatever you have in mind you can just forget it. I admit it all: you’re an animal in bed, and I will never, ever question your virility again.”

I laughed quietly.

“You can question it as often as you like, baby, because that just means I have to prove it to you.”

I dragged the sheet over us, and pulled her into my arms.

“Do you want to go find something to eat?” I asked, nuzzling her neck.

“Go? As in, leave the room?” she mumbled. “No, no. Bad, bad idea. Call takeout.”

“I don’t think they deliver to naked people in hotel rooms, Caro.”

She groaned.

“Come on, baby, time to get up,” I said encouragingly.

“I can’t,” she whined.

I plastered a kiss onto her pouting lips, then left her in bed while I showered.

She was nearly asleep by the time I returned. I dressed quickly and took a moment to rummage through Caro’s overnight bag. Then I went and sat on the bed next to her.

She cracked one eye, frowning at the pink t-shirt I held in my hands.

“Not your color, Sebastian,” she mumbled.

“No, baby. I want you to wear it.”

“Why?”

“You look cute in pink.” She looked at me uncertainly. “And I got you something while I was out.”

She sat up slowly, combing hair away from her face with her fingers.

“You got me something?”

I handed her the bag from Camilla’s.

“You bought me clothes?”

“Just look in the goddam bag, Caro!” I said impatiently.

She pulled out the skirt, studying it closely before turning her shocked eyes to mine.

“Don’t you like it?” I questioned uncertainly.

“Sebastian, I … it’s very pretty, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s not really me,” she said, biting her lip. “I’m more a jeans and t-shirt sort of person these days. Besides, I don’t have any shoes—I’ve only got my walking boots.”

Oh. If that was the problem ... I pulled the shoe bag out from under the bed and passed it to her. She still didn’t look happy and I was beginning to get worried.

“Do you like them?” I asked quietly

She swallowed several times, then slipped them onto her bare feet, holding them out for me to look at. She didn’t seem mad—just sort of dazed.

“So, you’ll wear them—and the skirt?” I asked hopefully.

She nodded and smiled a little reluctantly.

“Yes, tesoro, I’ll wear the skirt.”

She disappeared into the bathroom with the clothes, and I took the time to check my phone. There was another message from Cardozo, changing the pickup time to half-an-hour earlier, but that was all.

I couldn’t help staring when Caro walked out of the bathroom. I was right about the skirt: it made her legs look ultra long and so fucking hot. The term ‘sex on legs’ could have been made for her. She’d left her long hair loose, and was even wearing a little makeup.

“Wow! I mean … wow! You look awesome, Caro. Really fucking sexy!”

I ran my hand up her bare thigh and cupped her ass appreciatively.

“Mmm, this skirt is great: it’s making me horny.”

“Thank you for my presents,” she said, her voice cool and amused. “But right now, I need food more than I need your body, Sebastian.”

I smiled, kissed her quickly, then walked over to hold open the door for her.

“After you, baby.”

The evening air was still warm and I tugged at the neck of my t-shirt. The label was rubbing across a set of scratches where Caro had marked me. I kinda liked it. But we hadn’t gone more than a few yards before some bastards had their eyeballs all over Caro.

“Vieni qui e baciami!”

Caro ignored the rude fucking comment, but I felt a murderous rage bubbling up as the other one called out, “Il tuo corpo è bellissimo,” his eyes glued to her legs.

Yeah, I might not have thought through the whole buying-my-woman-sexy-clothes scenario. But when the first guy muttered as he passed Caro, “Voglio scopare,” I turned around to punch that fucking leer off his face.

Caro caught hold of my arm.

“Oh no, eyes front, Hunter. You bought this skirt, and now you’re suffering the consequences: suck it up.”

I opened my mouth to argue but the look she gave me wasn’t impressed, so I threw the guy a hard stare and let Caro lead me away. When we arrived at a restaurant that Caro liked the look of, I made sure she was seated in a corner so that her legs were hidden by the tablecloth. My skin itched having my back to the room, but at least Caro was protected.

She pretended not to notice my caveman behavior.

“What do you want to do tomorrow, Sebastian? Apart from spring your surprise?”

I took a deep breath and focused on the woman in front of me.

“I thought we could walk up to Capezzano Inferiore, take a look around. Even if there aren’t any Venzis there, it would be kinda cool to see where your dad grew up, wouldn’t it?”

She gave me a sweet smile, and I relaxed for the first time since leaving Signora Carello’s villa.

Our food arrived and I dug in. Hot sex with Caro was currently replacing my daily work-out. Gotta say it rocked.

It suddenly occurred to me that I really didn’t know what a normal day was like for her—in fact I didn’t know that much about her life. We’d spent so much energy just reconnecting, I hadn’t had a chance to ask her before.

“Tell me about your place in Long Beach, Caro,” I suggested.

“Oh! Sure, okay. Well, it’s small; a bungalow in an area called the West End. It was built about 90 years ago, and it was pretty beaten up when I bought it. I restored the porch at the front so I can sit out and watch the ocean, and in the winter the windows get covered in salt from the wind coming off the Atlantic. I have some really great neighbors, and they look after the place while I’m away. My friends like to come out from Manhattan on the weekends. You spoke to Nicole, she works in merchant banking; and then there’s Jenna, who’s a bitch-on-wheels attorney, but actually she’s really lovely; and Alice, she’s a Professor of literature at NYU. I met her when I was going to school there…”

Fuck me! Bankers, lawyers and professors? I was so out of my fucking league.

I should have known—I should have realized.

What the fuck was she doing with me?

She must have seen something on my face, because she stopped suddenly.

“What’s the matter, Sebastian?”

The food felt like sand in my mouth, and I struggled to swallow.

“How am I going to fit in with your life there, Caro? All your friends have these amazing careers … and I’ll just be a jobless grunt with a high school diploma.”

“Sebastian, no!”

“You know what they’ll think. Marine: Muscles Are Required Intelligence Not Essential.”

“Hey! No one will think that, and you know what? I don’t give a shit anyway. Sebastian, haven’t we had to listen to enough crap in the past to care less what anyone else thinks now? Isn’t that what you’ve been telling me?”

Yeah, well, not sounding so convincing now.

“Sebastian, do you love me?”

My eyes fixed on hers.

“You know I do, Caro. Sempre.”

She reached across the table and took my hand.

“Then whatever happens, we’ll deal. I vaguely remember someone saying that to me. Oh, wait, that was you a couple of days ago. Sebastian, the only thing my friends will care about is that I’m happy.”

It was hard to believe.

“What about your plans to be a personal fitness trainer?” she went on. “And, jeez, Sebastian, we’ll be in New York: you could do something amazing with your language skills. Don’t go and get all shy on me now, Hunter!”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to relax. If she believed it, why the fuck couldn’t I?

“Yeah, okay. Sorry. I just kinda freaked for a moment there.”

“I know and I understand. It’s weird for me, too, and we haven’t been doing this for very long. I guess you could say we’re out of practice with the whole dating thing. I feel very un-me sitting here in this shockingly short miniskirt, but I tried it, for you.”

“Shockingly short?” I said, smiling despite myself.

She pulled my hand under the table and let me run my fingers up her bare thigh.

“Yeah,” I agreed, raising one eyebrow. “Shockingly short.”

Her hand clamped down on mine, stopping my ascent.

“Okay, Columbus, you’ve discovered enough for one evening,” she said, laughing at my chagrined expression.

Then her smile softened.

“Come, tesoro, take me home.”