‘Of course, we could always go sight-seeing in Rome. There are some really interesting historical buildings.’
‘The sea, the sea,’ she begged faintly.
He laughed. ‘The sea it is, then. Let’s go.’
A few hours’ driving brought them to the Lido di Ostia, the beach resort about fifteen miles from Rome. It was a sunny place of level, pale-yellow sands that were adorned not only with umbrellas and loungers but the other trappings of civilization: wine bars and cafés.
Their hotel was close to the sea with a view over the ocean.
‘They’ve got single and double rooms available,’ Dante told her after a talk at the desk. ‘A double room’s cheaper.’ In reply to her raised eyebrows, he said, ‘How long can a man behave perfectly?’
‘I think I can afford a single room.’
‘You don’t give an inch, do you?’
‘You’d better believe it,’ she said, laughing.
Not for the world would she have admitted her relief that his defences were finally crumbling.
The hotel had a shop that sold beach items. She lingered over a bikini that—for a bikini—was relatively modest, and a respectable one-piece. Dante eyed her hopefully as she hovered between them.
‘Why don’t you try it?’ he suggested, indicating the one-piece.
She was slightly surprised that he urged her to try the modest garment rather than the revealing one. Afterwards, she realised that she should have been more suspicious.
In the dressing-room she donned the costume, regarded herself in the mirror and sighed. It was elegant and showed off her figure, but didn’t do her total justice. No one-piece could have done that. But, until she was sure how far along this road she was going to let Dante whirl her, she couldn’t risk being a tease. That wouldn’t be fair to him.
Nor was it fair on her, she realised, trying to calm the pleasure that fizzed through her as she thought of his eyes dwelling on her nearly naked body. It wasn’t the only pleasure she was denying herself right now, and soon she must decide why.
She dressed again and went out, handing the costume to the assistant for wrapping. ‘I’ll take this.’
‘I’ve already paid for it,’ Dante said, whisking it out of her hand and putting it into a bag he was carrying. ‘Now, let’s be off.’
‘I can’t let you pay for my clothes,’ she said as they crossed the road to the beach. ‘It wouldn’t be proper.’
‘If we’re going to have another discussion about propriety, I’d rather do it later over champagne.’
‘Oh, all right.’
The sand was glorious, soft and welcoming. He hired a hut, two loungers and a huge umbrella, then handed her the bag with her purchase and stood back to let her enter the hut first.
When she opened the bag, she was reminded that this man was a talented schemer.
‘They’ve given me the wrong costume,’ she said, going outside again. ‘Look.’ She held up the bikini. ‘But I don’t see how it happened. I saw you put the other one into the bag.’
‘I guess this one must have already been in there,’ he said, eyes wide and innocent.
‘But how…?’ Light dawned and she stared at him indignantly. ‘You didn’t?’
‘If you’ve learned anything about me, you know that I did,’ he said unanswerably. ‘I bought the bikini while you were in the changing room.’
‘But how dare you?’
‘A case of necessity. You were going to buy that middle-aged thing that doesn’t do you justice, so I paid for them both and slipped the bikini into the bag before you came out.’
‘But what about the one I chose? Where is it?’
‘No idea. It must have escaped.’
‘You—you devious—’
‘No such thing. Just a man who doesn’t like wasting time. Now, are you going to get in there and change, or are you going to stand here all day talking about it?’
‘I’m going to get in there and change,’ she said promptly. And vanished.
It might not have been modern and liberated to let a man make her decisions, but that was a small sacrifice in return for the look in his eyes. He’d behaved disgracefully, of course, but all things considered she would forgive him.
The mirror in the hut promised everything to the beauty who gazed back, wearing just enough to be decent. Restrained as the bikini was, it didn’t hide the way her tiny waist developed into curved hips, or the fact that her skin was perfect. Turning, she studied her rear view over her shoulder, noting that perhaps her behind was a fraction too generous.
Or, then again, perhaps not.
At last she was ready to make her grand entrance. Throwing open the door, she stepped out into the sunlight, only just resisting the temptation to say, ‘Ta-Da!’
He was nowhere to be seen.
Oh, great!
‘Ah, there you are,’ he said, appearing with cans of liquid. ‘I’ve been stocking up on something to drink. We can keep these in the hut until we’re ready.’
‘Do I look all right?’ she asked edgily.
‘Very nice,’ he said in a courteous voice that made her want to thump him.
But his smile as he studied her told another story, so she forgave him.
While she waited for him to emerge, she let her eyes drift over the other men on the beach. Sandor had once told her that there were few men who appeared at an advantage in bathing trunks. He’d spoken with self-conscious grandeur, from the lofty heights of physical perfection.
But when Dante appeared she forgot everything else. He didn’t show off; he didn’t need to. His tall, lean figure was muscular without being obvious, and he seemed to have the tensile strength of whipcord.
Ferne’s brief contacts with his body had hinted at power, not flaunted but always in reserve. Now she saw the reality and it pleased her, especially the long legs that moved with a masculine grace that hinted at his ability as a dancer.
For a moment she was back in his arms as they danced across the floor, feet between feet, spinning and twirling with never an inch out of place, because his control had been perfect. Watching him now, his body almost naked, she felt again the excitement of that night begin in the pit of her stomach and stream out to her fingertips.
‘Shall we go in?’ he asked, reaching out.
She took his hand and together they ran down the beach, splashing into the surf. She yelled aloud with ecstasy as the water laved her, and joined him in a race out to the horizon.
‘Careful,’ he said. ‘Don’t go too deep.’
But she was beyond caring. The feel of the water was so good that she wanted more and more.
‘Yee-haa!’ she cried up to the sky.
He laughed and plunged after her, keeping close, ready for the moment when she pulled up, treading water and puffing.
‘All right now?’ he called. ‘Got it out of your system?’
‘No way. Here goes!’
Kicking hard, she projected herself up as high as she could go, then dropped down deep into the water, down, down, until at last she kicked to start rising again.
But she was deeper than she’d guessed, and she didn’t