Matthew’s hands searched for the warmth of her skin, pulling at her clothing until he allowed himself to explore underneath. He felt her middle quiver in reply to his touch, accented by the hitch of her breath. The fingers he interlaced around her waist pulled her close. Finally, she pressed against him. Tight. Intimate. Matthew gnawed on his inner-cheek to fight his longing as she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck.
Then, they were there – her hands in his hair, down the back of his neck. As her nails grazed the skin that disappeared under his collar, he exhaled through the expectant pulse that kept time with his heartbeat.
‘Sarah . . .’ he started, and the sound of Matthew uttering her name in that low guttural voice tore her apart.
‘Yes?’ She coyly brushed her lips against his. The familiarity of his sweet wine-scented breath made her close her eyes in anticipation.
Matthew’s left hand crept up the small of her back, while his right caught her bottom and held it securely. ‘You . . .’ he panted, relishing the yearning that burned at his core with each caress of her lips.
But before he was able to succumb, to allow himself the pleasure of Sarah’s taste, a wail in a language indecipherable to both of them split the air.
The crowd quickly turned. A distressed woman’s shrieks were directed squarely at a hooded figure darting its way through the masses. As the energy eventually subsided, and the people gathered around the woman in support, Matthew turned back to Sarah.
The closeness. The warmth. The moment. It was gone.
Just like the woman’s handbag.
‘I should be getting you back to the hotel,’ he said, clearing his throat, trying his best not to sound deflated.
She nodded apprehensively.
On the return journey, in between short bursts of manufactured conversation, both questioned not where the moment had gone, but rather, where it had come from.
Standing at the door to Sarah’s room, Matthew politely refused her attempts to invite him inside. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he assured her. The tether had returned, and his legs felt heavy and steadfast.
‘You’re going to drive home now? It’s ten o’clock.’
‘I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. Google Maps will get me home.’
‘I don’t like this at all. It’s not safe out on those open roads at night.’
He was touched by her concern, but insisted. ‘It’s best I go. You need to finish your special day. Time to yourself.’
Sarah shook her head in frustration. ‘Fine, but just be c—’
‘I will.’ He smiled and went to turn, but stopped short. ‘I just wanted to make sure you were ok today. Here. That’s why I came.’ He gave her a sheepish smile before he turned and left. The energy of his flight response gave his feet renewed pace.
As soon as he was out of sight, Sarah closed the door to her room and collapsed against the back of it, exasperated. Sliding down to the carpet, she allowed her legs to splay out in front of her, fidgety with unease.
Meanwhile, Matthew boarded the lift and as the doors closed, he dropped his head into his hands.You had one job, Matthew: not to complicate things. You fucking idiot.
diciannove
Despite the relaxing and truly indulgent day – which did well to mask Sarah’s increasingly unsettled nature – returning to Convento delle Viole the following day brought it all back. And then some.
The kiss.
Thealmostkiss.
It took a long solo bike ride into town on Bianca to distract her momentarily from the questions mounting in her heart. Not even the waves of rippling violets flowing in the breeze down the valley could hold her attention for more than a moment.
After the Umbrian sun had finally retreated behind Fiorellino, the unease and tension that had afflicted Sarah over the previous week had returned with a vengeance.
Her hands fidgeted and her mind wandered to unhelpful thoughts. Matthew’s lips. His chest. His familiar musk. Though she tried her best to bury the feelings, they soon came to a head.
Matthew emerged from the en suite, towel-drying his hair, and saw her stood at a loss in the middle of their bedroom. ‘Areyou ok?’
Exhaling, Sarah turned to look at him, dropping her arms by her sides. ‘Honestly, no. I’m not ok.’
