Roman Holiday Page 27

  Nick raised an eyebrow. “Are you playing matchmaker?”

  “Somebody needs to, don’t you think? Byrney’s had a pretty tough life, I believe, and deserves some happiness. And it’s never too late to fall in love.” Caro could feel herself blush the second the words were out.

  “Are you speaking from experience then, Caroline?” Nick nudged her slightly. “With regards to the tough part and the falling in love?”

  “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I appear to know very little of anything any more. And what I think I know, I’ve learned not to trust.” She sighed.

  Nick put his glass on the floor next to the couch and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. He pulled out some folded pages and handed them to her.

  “Here. I thought you might like these. I know you didn’t finish Toni’s journal, but I did. I photocopied the last week’s entries and also discovered that several pages had been ripped out, pages from the early part of September. This lot ends on the day you leave for Ireland. It’s . . . quite affecting.”

  Caro unclasped her hands, reached out and took them from him. As she unfolded them and began scanning the black ink, Nick leaned forwards and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Reading Toni’s words, hearing his voice in my head as I read, was . . . difficult. I can’t imagine what it must mean to you. So many memories came flooding back from that summer. So many things I’d simply forgotten – things he’d told me that I’d listened to with half an ear. There they were, in black and white.” He cleared his throat. “I owe you another apology, Caroline,” he said quietly and waited till her gaze lifted from the page to meet his.

  “Oh?”

  “Indeed.” He paused, uncomfortable. “I should have believed you when you told us you two were in love. Oh, I knew weeks ago Toby was definitely Toni’s son, but because Toni was married so quickly to Marianna, your story didn’t really ring true. These pages, Toni’s thoughts and feelings, make it very clear he was deeply in love. With you.”

  Caro blinked back sudden tears. Her eyes moved swiftly over the pages. She didn’t really need to read them – she’d lived them. She knew how Toni felt as the day of her departure had drawn closer; she’d felt it, too. His words on paper echoed deep in her memory. The last entry detailed how when he got back from the airport, he’d thrown himself on his bed and bawled like a baby. Not the actions of a young man secretly having an affair with another woman.

  She just didn’t understand.

  “This doesn’t make sense, Nick,” she said. “How could he have cheated on me? I mean, you’ve read this. Does it sound like he’s lying?”

  If her voice sounded a little desperate she didn’t care. She was so frustrated.

  “I know another reason why I didn’t really believe you, about that summer.” Nick interrupted her musings. “I remembered, when reading the diary, how he told me about his amazing new girlfriend, CeeCee. I didn’t put two and two together. I’m sorry.”

  CeeCee. Oh, God.

  A fistful of pain clutched at her chest. Toni’s pet name for her, almost from day one. He’d laughed when she’d told him her name was Caro and had promptly nicknamed her caro-Caro or dear-Caro, but very quickly that became CeeCee. It’s how he’d always referred to her. Funnily enough, it made Nick naturally calling her Caroline so much easier to hear.

  “Why do you never call me Caro?” she asked, curious.

  “It’s never occurred to me. Caroline’s such a lovely name and I think it suits you. Do you mind?”

  No, she didn’t, she realised, not at all. In some ways it separated her relationship with Toni into a different compartment than her relationship with Nick, whatever that was. It felt better this way.

  “What about the missing pages?” Caro asked. “Any idea where they might be?”

  “Actually, I might have.”

  Nick stood and reached out a hand to pull Caro up from the couch. When they were both standing and she felt herself shiver slightly, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

  “But right now I really feel the need to hold you close and short of ravishing you here, I think the dance floor is where we ought to be.”

  He took the folded papers from her hands and slipped them into his trouser pocket. He looked, Caro thought, unbelievably dashing in his snowy-white shirt and dark navy trousers, a slightly loosened navy-and-grey striped tie about his neck, his dark hair brushed effortlessly back from that strong forehead.

  Damn, but she wanted to hold him close, too. But nothing was settled. Not really. But she did know that they both needed the comfort of each other right now. They both missed Toni, yes, and they both had their own demons to deal with. But, they were also alive and badly in need of some physical contact.

  A dance.

  Yes. She’d dance with him. Nothing more, nothing less.

  She shivered beneath the silk lining of his warm wool jacket. In just a few moments she’d be in his arms and that would have to do.

  For now.

  Nick paced the length of his suite’s living area. Back and forth. His hands were balled and shoved into his trouser pockets. He wanted to down a bottle of Scotch or, fuck, anything from the stylish drinks cabinet in his room, but he refused to resort to oblivion via alcohol. He needed to face facts and deal.

  Just as he always did.

  There was no way around it and, he believed, no way out. His heart had finally caught up with his head, or maybe it was the other way around. Did it even matter?

  Wedding bands can really make or break the mood, and no expense had been spared on this one – they were superb. The music that filled the ballroom when he and Caroline had walked back in had got them grinning like teenagers as they strutted their stuff with the rest of the guests. Then the music had slowed and Nick had pulled Caroline to his chest, wrapping one arm tightly about her and holding one of her hands close to his heart. She’d lifted her other arm about his neck and he’d felt her fingers slide gently across his skin. That simple touch had scorched him. His body on fire for her. He knew she felt him pressed to her belly and as she’d moved very slightly to and fro against him, he was pretty sure she liked what she felt. In her wedding heels, her head had rested on his shoulder, her mouth mere inches from his as he kept his own bent so he could inhale her fragrance.

  It was an exquisite moment.

  He’d whispered in her ear, all the things he wanted to do to her, with her. And her body had responded in breathy gasps when his tongue had discreetly circled her ear, the hand at her back following her curves in slow, sensual sweeps. The floor had been packed and they’d been interrupted so many times with well-wishers and Caroline’s family members.

  He’d met her parents while they waltzed past – not what he’d hoped as a first introduction, but they seemed fine with it, her father winking broadly as his daughter’s head lifted abruptly from its resting place when he called to her. Nick watched her family watch her and he was amused. A tap on his shoulder had been Toby, a wide grin on his face as they shook hands. Toby had then elbowed him away and stepped in to dance with his mother.

  Nick smiled to himself as he recalled the laughing antics of the pair, trying to do an old-fashioned rock and roll number they’d obviously done before. The other Fitzgeralds quickly joined in and it became even more apparent it was a family “thing”. An older brother and younger sister with a mass of wavy hair, not the second bridesmaid, danced together, while Francesca and her husband – how odd that sounded – the parents and then the spikey blonde dragged a very tall, broad dark man onto the floor who, it turned out, had serious grace and rhythm. All the guests stood around clapping as the hosts completed their routine. It was hard not to grin and cheer along with everyone else, as their enjoyment was infectious. As the music slowed again, Toby took hold of his grandmother and began waltzing with her.

  Nick blinked at the sight. It was Toni right there, Toni as a young man with that exact same huge love in his heart f
or his family. Caroline appeared next to Nick, holding out her arms to him in invitation. He didn’t need another one. He held her close, a sudden tightness in his throat when he saw Toby look over and catch his mother’s eye then give a beautiful wide smile.

  God. It was a kick to the belly.

  This was not Toni – this young man belonged to the gorgeous woman held fast in his own arms. He needed to stop thinking of him as just Toni’s son and really see him as the special, unique boy he was. And what a combination he’d turned out to be. Without doubt, the very best of both of his parents, despite the lack of fatherly influence. Though that probably wasn’t fair. A glance at the Fitzgerald men, each one unsurprisingly watching Toby and his grandma, showed him a tight-knit network of strong guidance had Caroline ever needed it. She’d leaned on these men, he knew, and they’d stood up where his own cousin hadn’t.

  “Your boy is some dancer,” he said quietly in Caroline’s ear.

  “He’s a natural, isn’t he? My dad was actually a ballroom champion back in the day, so we kinda grew up with it, without the usual embarrassment most kids have with their parents foxtrotting about the kitchen. Mum isn’t as natural at it, but they give it a go.”

  “They do indeed. Caroline.” He paused till she met his eyes. “I try to be honest with myself as much as is possible. And because of that I need to be honest with you, too.” They stopped moving, arms still entangled, his hand splayed across her lower back, holding her in place. “I want to tell you two things.”

  She held his gaze, a pulse beating rapidly in her throat.

  “I want to make love to you so badly that I ache with it.” Her gasp had him break off and she simply leaned into him further in an instinctive response, her hips to his. “And I . . . ” He paused, chickening out on what he’d been going to say, a fear he wasn’t used to clamouring in his chest. “I want you to come to my room later.”

  She’d demurred. Not actually answered and probably, in her own mind, been saved by the bell, as several guests had bumped into them as they’d performed the conga around the room. And that had been that. He didn’t get another opportunity to speak to her alone and eventually, as soon as the bride and groom had left the ballroom, Nick had found his jacket on the back of a chair, thrown it over his shoulder and headed to the stairwell. He’d seen Caroline in the midst of a group of laughing women and caught her eye briefly. The tiny shake of her head had been his answer, unseen by anyone else.

  The gut-wrenching disappointment had been replaced by relief that he hadn’t blurted out his heart to her. Told her he was falling in love. Even now he kicked the bottom of the chair leg as he paced past. Who was he fooling? He wasn’t falling. He was felled. Like a sturdy oak uprooted in the forest, Nick felt all his ties to what he once knew exposed and vulnerable, and he didn’t like it one bit. Yes, she was gorgeous, he’d known that since the first morning at the café when she’d caught his eye. Her natural way and simple style had attracted him instantly. Then again when he discovered her at the Accademia and saw a couple of different sides to her – the funny, almost clumsy side and the smart, professional side – both also damned attractive.

  And then they’d slept together. He knew now she didn’t normally do hook-ups. In truth, he wasn’t much for one-night stands himself. But that night had been pure sex. Was it that they’d thought they’d never see each other again and so could be exactly who they wanted? He didn’t know, but he did know he’d absolutely wanted to do it again. And thank the gods they had. Several times. And not nearly enough. And then the shit had hit the proverbial fan and all bets had been off.

  So how had he fallen? When had he fallen? Nick braced his hands on the window sill, the curtains open as he looked out, unseeing, into the dark winter night.

  Was there one particular event or time or moment when his heart just knew? Several obvious ones flashed into his mind, causing sudden discomfort in the front of his trousers. Caroline arching beneath him as he moved deep inside her, her moans and sexy noises driving him wild. And when she’d look at him from beneath her lashes as she tasted him and he was the one moaning. Or was it simply the conversations that were endlessly amusing and intelligent in equal amounts? Or her bravery in standing up to the whole bloody lot of them in defence of her son? Yeah, that one was a front-runner, for sure.

  No matter how good the sex and how sexy the woman, a man wants his wife to be infused with integrity, with innate honesty, with . . . a fierce love. He hoped a woman would want the same thing from her husband. And where the hell did all this husband-and-wife stuff come from? Easy to say it was because he was at a wedding, but Nick knew himself better than that. He was serious about Caroline. Serious about making a life with Toby and her. How? Mere details. Problems to solve, and God knows he liked a problem or . . .

  He turned his head at a sudden sharp knock on the door. Almost 2.30 a.m. He hadn’t ordered room service. He strode over and pulled open the door.

  Caroline stood there, her heels dangling from one hand, the other clutching her small beaded purse to her chest.

  “Can I change my mind?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  Nick reached forwards and hauled Caro through the doorway. He kicked it closed and she found herself back to the door, shoes and purse tossed aside and his mouth on hers. Both of his hands were braced on either side of her head and he was holding her in position with the sheer force of his mouth.

  Yes. Yes, yes-yes-yes! This was what she needed. What she craved. Caro had tried to be sensible, tried to listen to her “mummy” role and think things through, but damn, this was Nick we were talking about – Nick with the divine body, amazing hands, velvet hot mouth and all the moves. God, yes! She’d been an idiot downstairs telling him no when every pulsing, breathing part of her was screaming yes.

  Wising up, she’d said her goodnights to all the family still loitering and the last few stragglers of guests and had taken the stairs slowly. She wanted to feel everything, the anticipation and the purpose. This was her decision. She was choosing him. This wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment fling like that first night at the Accademia. This, this was deliberate. Knowing all the facts, all the complications, all the issues that had to be faced in tomorrow’s cold light of day, this, now, was for her.

  “I want to taste every sweet inch of you,” he’d whispered in her ear.

  “To feel every hitch of breath as I bring you closer and closer to release,” he’d said, continuing in Italian.

  “I need to feel you tighten about me as you come,” had almost had his wish come true right there on the dance floor – the her “coming” part, anyway.

  This would be the first time they’d be together properly since . . . well, since. They’d have sex, make love, knowing exactly who they were and what they wanted, despite the knowing.

  “Caroline.” Rough and raspy, he spoke against her neck as he bit and licked his way down her angled throat. “Are you sure? Say it now, if you must, but I won’t stop, won’t be able to stop, later.”

  She reached up to the buttons of his dress shirt and undid them one by one, parting the material and skimming her fingers over his chest as she moved down the row. He quivered beneath her touch. She leaned forwards, kissing each spot where her fingers had been.

  “Oh, yes. I’m sure.”

  And she didn’t for one second believe he wouldn’t stop if she did change her mind later. She knew him now.

  “Thank God!”

  His groan was followed by a whoop from her as he scooped her up in his arms and strode into the bedroom.

  He slid her down his body slowly to rest her feet on the floor, one hand unzipping her dress as he looked deeply into her eyes. He used both hands to shove the heavy fabric down her shoulders and she assisted by wriggling her arms free. Unencumbered, she did some undressing of her own – on him. His shirt had to go and she practically tore it from his broad chest and muscular arms.

  She couldn’t resist running her hands back up from wrist to where h
is wide shoulders joined his neck. His skin is a beautiful colour, Caro thought absently, his biceps flexing and catching the dusky light from the outer room. He felt amazing and she dragged her palms down his chest, her fingers tangling in the dark smattering of hair. She leant in and flipped her tongue over his nipple, eliciting a growl, a sound that went straight to her gut.

  Within seconds they were both naked on the bed, Nick’s body covering hers almost completely. Never had the weight of a human felt so welcome, so right. Caro slid her arms around Nick’s body, holding him as close as she could, her hands stroking his hard, chiselled back muscles as they rippled beneath her fingers.

  He lifted from her slightly, resting on his elbows as he dipped his mouth to capture her lips in a hot, searing kiss. He used his tongue and his teeth and his lips to give and take, to savour and devour in equal measures. She squirmed under his hips, hoping to ease the throb that was building. She wanted more and she wanted it now, but, oh, his mouth felt so, so good, and every time he dragged his tongue over the roof of her mouth or entwined it with her own, her belly dropped and shattered a little more.

  “Please, Nick,” she begged, “I can’t wait.”

  Magic words.

  He rolled and opened the wallet on his nightstand, pulled out a foil wrapper and within seconds was sheathed and ready.

  “Impressive,” she said, smiling. “A regular Boy Scout, all prepared.”

  “This’ll be quick, I’m sorry. But I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

  “Jesus, Nick, if you don’t hurry up I’ll explode without you!”

  His grin was devastating in its charm offence. God! he was gorgeous. And he was hers.

  A quick learner, Nick got busy. He opened her legs and, bending forwards, licked his way down her sensitive lips. Caro practically lifted from the bed as his tongue pressed and rasped across her most sensitive spots. And although amazing, it was as if they both knew that for now, he needed to be buried inside her and she needed him there too, connecting in a new and intimate way. Intimacy in all the ways, with all the feels. Oh! sweet Jesus. He slid in, retreated, returned and pushed in farther.