“Eyes on me, strega,” he rumbled softly.
The wickedness in his eyes were gone, replaced by something. Hunger. It was the word that popped into her mind as sensations raced and it was all she could do to keep her lids open and obey him. His fingers worked faster. Luca’s jaw was clenched and his neck corded with tension. Sabrina’s breathing grew shallow, labored. She grasped his arms, hanging on for dear life as she readied herself for what was coming. The impact of her staggering release arched her neck, pulled her muscles taut, and then dropped her limp like a puppet with its strings suddenly cut.
When she had reassembled herself, she found his piercing gaze was still on her. The blue of his eyes had gone several degrees darker.
“Bellisima,” he said gruffly, his throat working.
This time Sabrina had to look away. She didn’t want to make more of what she could see on his face. Like she was the most precious thing he had ever seen. Silly, she scoffed, shutting the lid on her imaginary box of emotions lest she allowed the butterfly of hope to escape. When she was a little girl and she felt bereft whenever her mother left her after one of her rare visits to go back to her real family, Sabrina had cried uncontrollably. Great, racking sobs that disturbed the neighbors next door. Her grandmother feared they would complain to the landlord. They were always late with the rent, and it would take little for him to kick them out. Her grandmother would take out an old shoe box. “Put your sadness in here, Sabrina, so you’ll be able to sleep for the night. You have to wake up early for school tomorrow.”
“Can I take it out again tomorrow, Grandma?”
“You can. After you’ve done your homework and helped me with the chores.”
Grandmother made sure she had plenty of chores so by the time she hit the bed, she was too tired to peer inside the box. But she didn’t know that sometimes Sabrina would wake up in the middle of the night and open it. She had learned to muffle her sobs so she didn’t disturb anyone.
That look of almost tenderness Luca had given her? How would she know something like it? She’d never stowed it inside her box. Her grandmother was always tired and gruff with her. Her mother rarely looked her in the eye. In the rare times Sabrina caught her staring at her, it felt as if her mother was trying to figure her out, as if she was a changeling child. She’d always smile effusively when caught, but Sabrina detected the guilt in them.
Shit. Why did being physically close to Luca always make her feel so maudlin? It’s because you haven’t had sex in years, Sabrina. You’re just confusing lust with intimacy.
She shifted, drawing her thighs together, until she realized his hand was still between them. He pulled it out after a beat. Sabrina’s face heated at the sight of his moist fingers. It practically scorched when he drew it to his nose.
Shit!
“I had a whiff before,” he rasped, and Sabrina realized he was talking about her panties, “but this, this is your essence. And your scent here drives me crazy.”
Sabrina bit back a whimper. His raw words were starting to make her ache all over again. He pulled out a handkerchief from the pocket of his white chinos, wiped his fingers, and jammed it inside his pocket again in precise movements.
The vehicle stopped. Dazed, Sabrina realized nothing had registered of their surroundings on the way to their present location.
“We’re here, sir,” the driver’s voice intoned respectfully.
Sabrina blushed, aware that the driver had probably chosen to announce their arrival to make sure the fact registered on his otherwise preoccupied passengers.
“So we are,” Luca drawled sardonically, leaning away from her to look out from his side of the window.
Sabrina sat up straight and discovered they were at a marina. Several gleaming yachts were moored in neat rows, forming a picturesque view of the harbor. The winds whipped the sails of the smaller boats and here, the brine odor of the sea stronger than in the central part of the island.
They disembarked in front of a modern, three-level structure with signage that read Seirenada Yacht Club.
“We can have breakfast here while the crew does last-minute checks.”
“The crew?”
“We’re riding on a yacht to access the beach I’d like to show you.”
“I thought the beach you were going to show me was on Seirenada.”
“Technically the beach is on Seirenadian territory, but it’s separate from the mainland.”
The warm greeting from the receptionist prevented Sabrina from saying anything else, especially as she rather thought it bordered on the too warm for her taste. It cooled when the mocha-skinned woman saw she was with Luca.