Page 42 of The Island of Hopes and Dreams

Lola clasping the side of his face and tugging him close so they were pressed together shut down any further thought. Her breath caressed his lips and sent his heart skittering; her perfume was sweet and seductive, her lips on his an addiction he knew he wouldn’t be able to give up.

The breeze curling in through the window did little to slay the heat rushing through him. His senses were on fire: hot skin and tickling breath, teasing touches and heady laughter, their lips as eager as their hands.

He and Lola were now the ones making a noise. He was acutely aware of each creak of the bed and the breathy moan that escaped Lola when his hand slid upwards to cup her breast. His joy was only outdone by his surprise at just how eager she was: passionate kisses and unrestrained exploration.

Damn, was this good.

The last time they’d been in bed together had all been for show for Freddie and Zoe. Now the sensation of sweeping his fingers across Lola’s bare skin was achingly real and he was trying to rein in his own moan, fully aware of the paper-thin walls between the rooms.

Before he knew it, his T-shirt had been discarded, and he was wriggling Lola’s top off up and over her head. In the subtle glow from the street light, her breasts were barely contained by a lacy bra. He planted a kiss right between them, extracting another moan from Lola that sent his pulse racing. Lola’s breath hitched as he began to tug down her skirt, while her hands caressed his back, dipping lower so they teased inside the waistband of his jeans.

From the other side of the wall, a phone started ringing.

Lola managed to kick away her skirt, then her fingers started work on the buttons of his jeans. Rhys traced his fingers up her smooth thigh, his heart pounding faster with every inch.

A muffled voice started speaking in the next room.

Their lips found each other’s again and he was lost in her taste and the feel of her as his hand slid even higher.

Fabs was talking, louder now.

Lola’s hands stilled on his bare chest. Rhys’s fingers paused just a breath away from where he wanted them to be. She pulled away from their kiss. ‘Do you think something’s going on?’

Despite Rhys having heard Fabs answering his phone, his attention had solely been on Lola in just a lacy bra and knickers. The subtle glow from the street light caught her curves and he could barely think straight as they remained quiet for a moment, still entwined on the bed.

A thud sounded, as if someone was getting out of bed. Two voices now; Fabs and Mirabel talking.

Rhys’s heart sank further as a door opened and footsteps strode along the hallway.

‘Shit.’ Lola entangled herself from him and scooped up her top from the floor.

A knock on their bedroom door.

‘Rhys, Lola?’ Fabs’s voice was just-woken-up-rough. ‘We need to leave, now. Mamma’s been taken to hospital.’

* * *

Being interrupted by Fabs at gone midnight to drive back to Villa Sereno was not how Rhys had envisaged the rest of the night going, not after being in bed with a nearly naked Lola.

Fabs was focused on the road, his hands clutching the steering wheel, while Mirabel was quiet in the passenger seat. Rhys and Lola sat in the back in silence as they zoomed along the dark roads past forested countryside shrouded in darkness. The imprint of her lips remained and the delicious smell of her lingered, yet he was unsatisfied and once again felt awkward around her. The heady delight had been shattered by having to stop so abruptly. How far would they have taken things if Fabs hadn’t interrupted?

Rhys silently berated himself for such a selfish thought. They were heading back because Giada had been taken ill with a suspected heart attack. Of course they needed to return. Whatever had been happening between him and Lola was less important when his best friend was understandably distraught.

Chaos reigned back at the villa. Everyone was up and lights blazed. They were greeted by a chorus of voices, multiple people weighing in on what had happened – or what they believed had happened – over the last couple of hours. Mirabel rushed to her parents and was swept up in their arms. Both sides of the family had gathered in the living room in pyjamas, nightdresses and dressing gowns. Rhys did wonder if the drama had been embellished, but by the time Fabs decided to drive to the hospital with his eldest sister to find out how his mamma was for himself, it had become clear that she’d woken with chest pain and the moment she’d mentioned feeling faint, an ambulance had been called.

‘Look after Mirabel, will you?’ Fabs clapped a hand on Rhys’s shoulder and planted a kiss on Mirabel’s forehead. Hisnonnaand aunt shouted a barrage of instructions at him in Italian as he left.

Mirabel’s escape from the family tension had been short-lived. Her earlier happiness had been wiped from her face now she was back in the house.

With tears in her eyes, Mirabel grabbed Lola’s hand. ‘Keep me company.’

‘What about Rhys?’ Lola glanced towards him. ‘We can get a taxi back to?—’

‘Please stay.’ Mirabel’s tone was pleading and Rhys knew there was no way Lola would refuse her. Picking up where they’d left off would have to wait for another time, he realised with dismay.

A warm hand landed on his shoulder. ‘I make bed for you in study,’ Fabs’s ninety-year-oldnonnasaid with a sharp nod of her head.

‘I’ll help you.’ Mirabel’s mum took hold of him and, before he knew it, he was being swept one way, Lola the other.

---