“Just accept them. But if you really want to repay me, you could smile. You never give me enough of those.” Michael brushes aside a strand of hair that’s escaped from my bun, and when he touches my forehead, I feel dizzy again.
I stop to look at Michael and realize Giada wasn’t wrong. Even though I’d like to think of myself as being indifferent to what others say, I’m flattered by Michael’s attention. And I find myself shamefully hungry for compliments.
Vanity is a sin, but no one has ever come back from hell to say how bad it is, so I’m willing to take the risk. I don’t need anyone to noticemy looks or my skills, something like “You have such a natural talent for breathing” would do the trick at this point.
Damn this wine!
“Is everything okay?” Michael asks me. “You seem like you’re somewhere else.”
“I’m fine!” I hasten to say, before he manages to read my thoughts. “I think I’m just a little tired, between the ride, the sun, and the wine on an empty stomach.”
“Why don’t you take a little nap? Here in the shade, with this breeze, it’s so nice.”
“Maybe ...” I lie down on the mat, with my head resting on the knotty root of the olive tree, which is anything but comfortable.
“You can lie on me,” Michael invites me to move my head onto his shoulder.
I could act tough, as usual, but what would it cost me to say yes just this one time?
Human beings are defined by their propensity for mistakes, and even though I know a polite but firm no is the correct answer, I feel irresistibly attracted to the wrong one.
Besides, it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong ... It’s just an innocent nap; nothing to see here.
I wake after a deep sleep that’s lasted for who knows how long.
I squint and notice that the light has changed, so it was a little more than just a nap.
I’m still lying on Michael’s shoulder, but my face is burrowed in the crook of his neck, the tip of my nose against his skin, and, when I inhale, his scent intoxicates me more than the wine at lunch.
He wraps his left arm around me and rests his hand lightly on my waist.
My hand, however, has risen to his chest, as if I were clinging to him, and is moving up and down to the slow rhythm of his breathing.Michael is also sleeping, and I notice the sinfully sensual profile of his parted lips.
I squeeze my eyes shut so I can force my thoughts off the slippery road they’re starting to take.
However, with my eyes closed, the scent of Michael’s skin grows even stronger. It’s fresh and masculine, and my nose, trained to recognize the bouquets of wines, is delighting in torturing me: notes of rosemary, anise, orange blossom ...
The ringing of my phone interrupts my conscience from its orgy of senses.
Still dazed, I stretch out my hand on the mat until I find the infernal device, which with its ring has also awakened Michael, and I answer.
“Elisa, where are you? Are you okay?” Foliero asks me in a panicked voice.
“Yeah, why? Has something happened?”
“You tell me: Soldatino came back to the stable on his own. When I couldn’t find you, I thought something had happened to you.”
“What? Soldatino?” Still confused, I scramble to my knees and notice there’s an empty space next to D’Artagnan. I rewind the mental film of our arrival and see it again: I was hot, I was thirsty, and I was hungry. I unhooked the picnic basket in a hurry and ... “I didn’t tie him up. I forgot to secure Soldatino’s reins to the tree.”
“Thank goodness. We were all so worried.”
“It’s okay. I was just a little careless. In any case, we’re in the olive grove; we’ll be back soon,” I reassure him.
“Everything okay?” Michael asks, stretching in a way that lifts his polo shirt an inch, revealing the grooves of his obliques that continue down beyond the waistband of his riding trousers, which I only now notice are tight enough to revealeverything.
God or whoever’s up there, make me blind ... or at least not completely dazed.
I slap a hand over my eyes in a last-ditch attempt to end the hormonal surge. “I didn’t tie up Soldatino, and he went back to the stable,” I say in a voice that comes out higher than I intended.
